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: (fact: gopher)
All in all, it was a good thing that Alec didn't seem to be around this week, because it allowed for Topher the gopher to sit on his bed, contentedly destroying his pillowcase.

Wait, maybe that meant that it wasn't such a good thing. But Topher appreciated it, at least. He had paws and claws and was appreciating the chance to get to use them before they went away. In fact, he was working kind of hard on using his claws to scratch up Alec's pillow in the shape of the helmet from the bad guy from Space Battles. Once he thought he had it for the most part, he squeaked for Victor's attention to show off his handiwork, tilting his little gopher head as if to ask Nice, right?

Still. He was becoming pretty bored with being a gopher. Was this going to be over soon?

[[for guess-who!]]
dollpocalypse: (meh: HUH.)
All things considered, there had been worse weeks on this island than just being monochromatic and really really boring. However, most of the other weeks hadn't involved being so mean to Billy (and Topher did realize that he'd been mean to Billy, whether it'd been intentional on other!him's part or not), so this one pretty much ranked as an awkward one.

Plus he was pretty damn sore from all the jogging other!him had been doing, so. There was that as well.

He mulled it over for a moment or two, decided that it was almost definitely excusable in the long run, then settled on his bed with Broca II in his lap and put on a movie on one of his laptops. Meanwhile, he took out his iPad and idly coded while the movie was playing. He wasn't sure what he was doing yet, but so far it had 'this island is batshit' written in binary, so that was a good start.

[[open!]]
dollpocalypse: (neg: sit here & angst till he texts back)
When Topher had snapped back to reality yesterday, he'd been in a closet up at the school, and after a few hours had finally managed to get up to trudge back to his room. There, he'd proceeded to gather up the Space Battles sheets from his bed and drag them into his own closet, and... well, hide.

That was where he woke up this morning (not that he'd gotten very much sleep), and with everything going on in his head (Victor Kate Elle Stephanie Billy Victor) he thought he might just... stay that way. For a long time. Here there wasn't anything going on besides his thoughts, but there also wasn't anyone who could hate him for what he'd done (and he couldn't stop hearing Tony's voice in his head calling him a monster), and... he'd done some pretty horrible things.

Like with Peter.

Oh fuck, Peter.

[[establishy]]
dollpocalypse: (awk: bye now)
"Yeah, but you can't just go to bars like that," Topher was in the middle of explaining to Maria over a breakfast of Mountain Dew and Doritos. "They're... I don't know. For grown-ups or whatever."

"Not always," Maria informed him almost a little sharply, though she didn't look like she had an interest in elaborating on that. "And it's not as though I drank. Which I don't, for the record. I just met your friend Kenzi and some Jedi who knows you guys and learned all about the time you shrunk some girl's laundry."

Topher made a face. "You heard about that?" he groused.

"Yep," Maria confirmed. "And did Dad really punch Peter at a dance? Don't get me wrong, it's seriously badass and I'd do it if I went to school with him too, but it doesn't sound like high school-dad."

Topher winced. "Yeah... maybe don't mention that one to him," he suggested. "Just. Eat your breakfast, okay?"

"Then can I look at your computer?"

Topher sighed. "Be my guest."

[[door and post open! yeah, i really freaking love this kid, why do you ask?]]
dollpocalypse: (neu: crumbling around me)
Topher did not wish to leave the lab. Really. He was perfectly content to stay there for a good long while. Maybe get a hamster or something. He and Warren could live there forever and grow beards and learn pizza delivery guys by name (if the world didn't end and wipe out pizza delivery guys forever) and he'd learn all about wings and bunnies and hamsters and probably sleep in Tony's suit or something.

However. Supposedly there were things around town that were trying to eat people. So Peter wanted him to move.

And plus, it was probably a good idea to get a change of underwear at some point. And pizza delivery guys didn't get that stuff for you. Not that he'd asked, or anything.

But... lab. Cozy. Comfy. Full of tech that could possibly save the world. And it smelled comforting, like engine grease and Tony. And Warren was here, and and and...

Okay. Yeah. Topher definitely wasn't leaving anytime soon. He was just going to take two steps outside in the direction of the dorms so he could tell Peter he'd tried, then probably hurry back into the lab. That was the best possible plan, right? Right.

[[For them whose services are getting have been requested, and then that girl who knows who she is.]]
dollpocalypse: (neu: crumbling around me)
Topher did not wish to leave the lab. Really. He was perfectly content to stay there for a good long while. Maybe get a hamster or something. He and Warren could live there forever and grow beards and learn pizza delivery guys by name (if the world didn't end and wipe out pizza delivery guys forever) and he'd learn all about wings and bunnies and hamsters and probably sleep in Tony's suit or something.

However. Supposedly there were things around town that were trying to eat people. So Peter wanted him to move.

And plus, it was probably a good idea to get a change of underwear at some point. And pizza delivery guys didn't get that stuff for you. Not that he'd asked, or anything.

But... lab. Cozy. Comfy. Full of tech that could possibly save the world. And it smelled comforting, like engine grease and Tony. And Warren was here, and and and...

Okay. Yeah. Topher definitely wasn't leaving anytime soon. He was just going to take two steps outside in the direction of the dorms so he could tell Peter he'd tried, then probably hurry back into the lab. That was the best possible plan, right? Right.

[[For them whose services are getting have been requested, and then that girl who knows who she is.]]
dollpocalypse: (neg: might weep)
Topher flung the door open with more force than he'd ever realized he was capable of, his heart pounding. That was partially from having run all the way here while crying, though the helpless grief and rage battling inside him was also a close second. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this before -- like he'd just lost something completely irreplacable and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't fix it with science or programming or anything without at least a scan of Tony's brain and a wildly undeserved medical degree. It was just... just the worst thing ever.

He kicked the floor, and then, finding that unhelpful, threw the phone and that stupid orb he was still holding onto the ground and hurled a hard punch at the wall.

Fuck, that hurt.

But it did kill some of the helpless feeling, at least. Now there was just... grief.

With a choked sob, Topher collapsed down to the floor with his back to the wall, cradling his bleeding hand and just hating everything.

[[I'M SORRY. HE JUST HAS A LOT OF FEELINGS. for two, and NFB.]]
dollpocalypse: (neg: might weep)
Topher flung the door open with more force than he'd ever realized he was capable of, his heart pounding. That was partially from having run all the way here while crying, though the helpless grief and rage battling inside him was also a close second. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this before -- like he'd just lost something completely irreplacable and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't fix it with science or programming or anything without at least a scan of Tony's brain and a wildly undeserved medical degree. It was just... just the worst thing ever.

He kicked the floor, and then, finding that unhelpful, threw the phone and that stupid orb he was still holding onto the ground and hurled a hard punch at the wall.

Fuck, that hurt.

But it did kill some of the helpless feeling, at least. Now there was just... grief.

With a choked sob, Topher collapsed down to the floor with his back to the wall, cradling his bleeding hand and just hating everything.

[[I'M SORRY. HE JUST HAS A LOT OF FEELINGS. for two, and NFB.]]
dollpocalypse: (!?: oh HELL no)
For the first time since that time last week in Tony's room, Topher woke up naked.

Which... was the least of his problems once his memories flooded back. Tony. Ben. Nate. All of the anonymous "clients" from his past. It was completely horrifying, and the memory alone gave him what appeared to be a nervous tic of the neck spasm variety.

He didn't think he'd actually... followed through. He remembered flirting and -- oh god, KISSING, but then it got fuzzy and he remembered things like Kotex and Bounty. Did that mean he had... used those things? That didn't seem to make sense. But that hardly mattered, did it, when he had DONE THINGS! Things with -- guys!

"Oh, god," he muttered. "I was in love with Tony!"

Yeah, he was going to hide in bed today. ALONE.

[[OOC: Door is closed, post is open. I'm actually moving today, holycrapwtf, so expect extreeeeme SP.]]
dollpocalypse: (!?: oh HELL no)
For the first time since that time last week in Tony's room, Topher woke up naked.

Which... was the least of his problems once his memories flooded back. Tony. Ben. Nate. All of the anonymous "clients" from his past. It was completely horrifying, and the memory alone gave him what appeared to be a nervous tic of the neck spasm variety.

He didn't think he'd actually... followed through. He remembered flirting and -- oh god, KISSING, but then it got fuzzy and he remembered things like Kotex and Bounty. Did that mean he had... used those things? That didn't seem to make sense. But that hardly mattered, did it, when he had DONE THINGS! Things with -- guys!

"Oh, god," he muttered. "I was in love with Tony!"

Yeah, he was going to hide in bed today. ALONE.

[[OOC: Door is closed, post is open. I'm actually moving today, holycrapwtf, so expect extreeeeme SP.]]
dollpocalypse: (tech: screen)
Topher had a brand-new video game and absolutely no further patience for outdoor shenanigans, so as soon as he'd talked to the people who bore talking to (and Kenzi), he made his way to his room to set it up.

It was probably best not to ask where he'd gotten the giant screen or the makeshift console that didn't seem to have a brand name on it. The answer to that came from the enormous mountain of wires and various other pieces of orphaned tech equipment on the floor.

After hooking up two controllers and setting up a giant bowl of food that he'd unceremoniously stolen from the picnic, he flopped down on his bed and started booting up the game. This was way better than meeting newbies, he decided. Unless the newbies were zombies, but he doubted that.

[[Door is cracked, post is open, thread with Tony is chronologically last!]]
dollpocalypse: (tech: screen)
Topher had a brand-new video game and absolutely no further patience for outdoor shenanigans, so as soon as he'd talked to the people who bore talking to (and Kenzi), he made his way to his room to set it up.

It was probably best not to ask where he'd gotten the giant screen or the makeshift console that didn't seem to have a brand name on it. The answer to that came from the enormous mountain of wires and various other pieces of orphaned tech equipment on the floor.

After hooking up two controllers and setting up a giant bowl of food that he'd unceremoniously stolen from the picnic, he flopped down on his bed and started booting up the game. This was way better than meeting newbies, he decided. Unless the newbies were zombies, but he doubted that.

[[Door is cracked, post is open, thread with Tony is chronologically last!]]
dollpocalypse: (fact: getting into bed)
Okay, it was official. Fandom hated him. Not only was Topher's face now a mess of bruises and the occasional nosebleed, but it was also gray. As in fully, entirely gray. And his eyes? Black. His whole body was sore, up to and including the part on his lower back where there was now a tail beginning to grow, and worst of all, his hands (or more accurately, claws) were now fully incapable of typing.

DAMN IT, FANDOM.

Frustrated, Topher kicked at the bottom of his bed. When he didn't immediately feel the usual pain that came from hitting or kicking just about anything, he kicked it again and again, hurling his feet at the bed frame until a long, jagged crack appeared in the smooth wood.

That was... oddly satisfying.

Suddenly, thoughts of science or staying in the room -- which had grown fainter and fainter over the past few days -- were gone. He had anger and cruelty inside of him, and he wanted to do something.

Something... outside. The deer didn't seem so scary anymore. He was just as powerful as they were.

[[Open door for before he runs outside, but mainly establishy!]]
dollpocalypse: (fact: getting into bed)
Okay, it was official. Fandom hated him. Not only was Topher's face now a mess of bruises and the occasional nosebleed, but it was also gray. As in fully, entirely gray. And his eyes? Black. His whole body was sore, up to and including the part on his lower back where there was now a tail beginning to grow, and worst of all, his hands (or more accurately, claws) were now fully incapable of typing.

DAMN IT, FANDOM.

Frustrated, Topher kicked at the bottom of his bed. When he didn't immediately feel the usual pain that came from hitting or kicking just about anything, he kicked it again and again, hurling his feet at the bed frame until a long, jagged crack appeared in the smooth wood.

That was... oddly satisfying.

Suddenly, thoughts of science or staying in the room -- which had grown fainter and fainter over the past few days -- were gone. He had anger and cruelty inside of him, and he wanted to do something.

Something... outside. The deer didn't seem so scary anymore. He was just as powerful as they were.

[[Open door for before he runs outside, but mainly establishy!]]
dollpocalypse: (riley: superior)
For all the complaints that people were making about the weather, there were at least two Fandom students who seemed oblivious to the snow on this particular Saturday.

Of course, they weren’t quite aware that they were Fandom students at this particular moment, because they were far too busy battling pythons and alligators.

“What, are you stupid? Hit its jaws with the thing!” yelled Dr. Nikki Riley, gesturing to an invisible (but very menacing) alligator snapping at her cohort’s feet. At the same time, Nikki whacked a large python with what appeared to be a large woolly mammoth bone she’d found in the snow. The python hissed and slithered off.

The invisible, invisible python.

Park Ranger Terry O'Hara knew this entire mess was Riley's overly blond fault and wasn't about to let her make things worse! She had a duty to uphold. A duty to the parks. Sure, she'd given alligators some steroids, but that was all in the course of her duty!

"This is all your fault!" Terry let her know. Because it needed to be done.

[[Oh god, so open. And horrible.]]
dollpocalypse: (riley: superior)
For all the complaints that people were making about the weather, there were at least two Fandom students who seemed oblivious to the snow on this particular Saturday.

Of course, they weren’t quite aware that they were Fandom students at this particular moment, because they were far too busy battling pythons and alligators.

“What, are you stupid? Hit its jaws with the thing!” yelled Dr. Nikki Riley, gesturing to an invisible (but very menacing) alligator snapping at her cohort’s feet. At the same time, Nikki whacked a large python with what appeared to be a large woolly mammoth bone she’d found in the snow. The python hissed and slithered off.

The invisible, invisible python.

Park Ranger Terry O'Hara knew this entire mess was Riley's overly blond fault and wasn't about to let her make things worse! She had a duty to uphold. A duty to the parks. Sure, she'd given alligators some steroids, but that was all in the course of her duty!

"This is all your fault!" Terry let her know. Because it needed to be done.

[[Oh god, so open. And horrible.]]

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