dollpocalypse: (fact: getting into bed)
Topher woke up today with a two-minute coughing fit, which, as far as weird weekend mornings-after went, wasn't as bad as some that he'd experienced over the past few years. It wasn't an epic headache or a still-painful bruise, but it was annoying, as was the lingering smell of weed in the room.

A mental review of the weekend's events revealed that he'd missed work -- possibly his last day of work for this school year, depending on whether he felt like going this week -- but that wasn't a huge problem; on top of that, Topher supposed that if he was ever going to smoke pot, doing it while he was temporarly not asthmatic was probably the way to go, so the only real surprise came when he checked the date on his digital watch and paused.

"Oh, hey," he said aloud, blinking. "I'm seventeen."

Had been for a few days now, actually. Huh. Fancy that.

To celebrate, he got up, cracked the door open to air out the weed smell, and flopped in his desk chair with some celebratory Ding-Dongs. He would have put a candle in one of them, but he only had so much energy for this.

[[door open, post open!]]
dollpocalypse: (citw: puzzled)
Marty was very concerned about this new place. He knew that the government sometimes kidnapped people for testing, and this room was certainly full of enough wires to be a testing center, but there were also posters of Space Battles movies and a robot dog - which seemed out of place in any kidnappee's designated sleeping quarters.

After picking up the robot dog to inspect and checking the rest of the room for hidden cameras, and, of course, furtively peeking into the hallway for passing lab technicians (none, but there was a suspiciously hot person with wind-swept hair that had to have been tampered with somehow), Marty decided that the best way to get answers about where he was would be to do the thing he knew he was most likely being studied for: he took out his prize possession and lit it. Any government facility worth its salt had to have smoke detectors, right? Plus in the meantime, he got to get high. It was a perfect solution.

[[topher is, of course, marty mikalski from the cabin in the woods. link is to drug paraphernalia (of course). i'm leaving for c2e2 in two hours, but i was planning not to play until tomorrow and then i realized i'm up early enough that i still can! just, y'know, expect SP. door is shut, ofc, but post is open.]]
dollpocalypse: (fact: sleeping)
So lately? Topher had been getting a little bit better at getting people. He wasn't great at it or anything, wasn't even really good, and still needed to ask a lot of questions, but at least by now he knew what to ask. And who to ask, and how to ask, and just generally the right way to figure things out.

Which he thought he had, yesterday. Figured stuff out, that was. Because... Billy. There had been Ben's advice and everyone else ever's implications and he'd been pretty sure he was right. Because of, like, the scientific method, where Ben and Kenzi and Tony and Peter and Ender were all test subjects and they'd all given him data to suggest that: yes, Billy was okay, Billy was cleared, he should try this with Billy, because it wasn't like he was ever going to get anywhere with anyone else this kind of thing made people happy, and Billy made Topher happy and maybe it would be a good thing. To try it. And he'd thought he was right. Been pretty sure, as a scientist, that his data proved his hypothesis.

Except he definitely had not been right, because he'd tried to do what everyone else thought he should do and wound up getting laughed at.

So. Fuck that. Fuck talking to people. Fuck going outside, too. Today he was buried under all his blankets and reading a comic and wondering why it wasn't helping him feel better yet.

Any second now.

[[door closed, post open, emo within]]
dollpocalypse: (victor: toyz)
Topher woke up to find his roommate missing and to find himself the proud owner of a killer headache that he suspected had something to do with the coconut-bra antics that had transpired last night. Well, great. He dug one of his laptops out from where he had been storing it under his pillow (shut up) and pulled up some Minecraft.

That would take care of the headache, yes.

The fact that he looked different today? Totally lost on him.

[[door and post are open]]
dollpocalypse: (victor: toyz)
Topher woke up to find his roommate missing and to find himself the proud owner of a killer headache that he suspected had something to do with the coconut-bra antics that had transpired last night. Well, great. He dug one of his laptops out from where he had been storing it under his pillow (shut up) and pulled up some Minecraft.

That would take care of the headache, yes.

The fact that he looked different today? Totally lost on him.

[[door and post are open]]

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