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[heatmetal]

[ his voicemail greeting is just a guitar riff ]

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[heatmetal]

Jesus Christ.
Where are you, B?

action.

[heatmetal]

[ Luckily for Eddie Munson, lover of fake magic and loather of real stuff, he's not there to witness the portal and to experience some fucky PTSD style flashbacks of seeing a hole in space time open up where he's not expecting it.

But, okay. A scruffy looking metal head pops the door open. The old weed stank clings to his clothes. ]

Sorcerer Stranger! [ he steps aside, gesturing for him to enter. ] Uh, come in, come in. I'm - Eddie, Eddie Munson.

[rehandle]

[ ... what has he signed himself up for. ]

Dr Strange is fine. Thanks.

[ But he does enter in as invited, doing his best to keep the dubiousness from his face as he passes Eddie and takes in their new home. Every house in Sunset Falls has its one unique feeling, and he can't help the outside trace of a smile as he takes his first good look at this one. ]

I assume this isn't a rental.

[heatmetal]

Nah. Billy, one of us here, struck gold on the internet and had enough cold hard cash to snatch this sucker up. [ or like, got a mortgage.

the living room is kind of in order. the couch is in, at least. the decor clashes a little with the victorian era aesthetic. posters of 80s metal bands have been put up. ]

I, uh... been meaning to hit you up since I got here, actually.

[rehandle]

[ Damn. Struck gold indeed. He takes in all that's in view with an assessing eye, takes in all that isn't with an unseen outward reach, and both earn a more solid hitch to that smile. He turns it on Eddie to reply. ]

I know. [ OurPowers is one thing he's guaranteed to check, and that day's output was no different - not all of it, but enough. Though it wasn't Eddie driving the bulk of the conversation. His half-smile drops a little. ] Sorry, by the way. About your friend.

[heatmetal]

Thanks.

[ Steve's... probably glad to be back home. With the kids. Better that he doesn't remember him, really.

It doesn't make it hurt any less. ]

That's why I wanted to talk. [ he licks his lips, rubs his hands together and then stuffs them in his pockets. full of nervous, anxious energy. ] Steve was working on a way for all of us to go back, but... three quarters of our remaining party is dead back home - yours truly included in that dismal percentage - and we don't know what's going to happen to us. If we disappear from here. Or... If we try to go back home.

[camarod]

Fuck my life. In my room. Why are you making this proper sentences jesus fucking christ.

Bring me a cigarette? That wasn't a god damn question Eddie I hate technology.

[rehandle]

[ Ah. Stephen's expression sobers entirely. Three quarters dead, and judging by the two he's already seen are living here they're all still kids or close enough. It's a big question to have to ask at any age. He can't help but to resent that they have to grapple with it at this one.

He nods his understanding, glances toward the couch in the living room. ]

Shall we sit?

[ Best achieve some comfort before his answers fail to provide any more. And maybe best to make that clear before making himself at home. ]

To warn you, I can't answer definitively. But I do have some insight, some previous adjacent experience. We can discuss theories.

[heatmetal]

My casa is your casa.

[ he gestures towards the couch with a deep bow and a flourish, popping back up and looking vaguely uneasy. ]

Theories are a lot more than I got right now. Everything in my head just says, "dying a painful death all over again".

[rehandle]

[ He doesn't bother with a thanks, helps himself to the couch. There's not a lot of need for niceties when dying a painful death is the last thing on the table.

There's also not a lot of need to sugar coat. ]

You were all dead before arriving here, to each of your knowledge? Not in the process of dying - you'd died.

[ It's an important detail to lock in before he starts on more. ]

[heatmetal]

Not totally dead, I think. But most of us were pretty near it. We're talking milliseconds.

[ eddie rakes his fingers through his hair, fwumping gracelessly down on the armchair. ]

[rehandle]

[ Brink of death, death almost inevitable. Alright. ]

Have you all had your deaths confirmed by one another, or did you come from same point in the timeline?

[heatmetal]

[ he picks at his threadbare jeans. decides keeping names off it isnt doing any good. ]

Yeah. Chrissy died in front of me. Hargrove died in front of a bunch of people... I was the last one to bite it, and its been double confirmed it wasn't a fake out.

[rehandle]

[ A pause while he digests that, insult added to the injury of early, violent deaths. There's one particular conclusion he doesn't like having to come to, and it has him watching Eddie pick at his jeans for a second or two before speaking up again. ]

I've got a worst case and some better cases. Where do you want to start?

[heatmetal]

Let's start at rock bottom and move our way up.

[rehandle]

Alright. Worst case, you vanish from here and go home, arriving back at the exact point you left like a spirit re-entering the body. You live your last milliseconds and you die as you were going to.

[ He doesn't hesitate to let it sink in, it's close enough to Eddie's personal theory that dwelling won't make it any better. Besides. It's the worst case, not the only case, and the faster they move on the faster he can get to the rest. ]

The only precedent I have is previous experience in an entirely different multiversal displacement situation. I can't speak to how accurate it'll be to the way things work here, but it's a possibility in the case of spontaneous disappearance, perhaps also voluntary return to your timeline. [ A realisation - ] Actually, somebody from my neck of the multiverse recently returned after disappearing. I haven't spoken to him about it, but you might want to reach out to him. I can put you in contact later.

[heatmetal]

Okay.

[ exactly what he feared. eddie brings his thumb up to his mouth, chomping nervously on the nail. he doesn't want to die. didn't want to die. but its seeming more and more inevitable that he will. ]

So that's... worst case. [ a shaky exhale. those big brown eyes flick up to stephen's. ] Are we only working with worst case, like - the timelines trying to right themselves so we don't end up causing some kinda fucked up paradox by knocking our world off its intended axis?

[rehandle]

No.

[ Immediate, and definite, eye contact unwavering. ]

Timelines don't have course correct. There's no right ending that the universe will fight to see reached, only our collective actions and their consequences.

b. hargrove | text

[camarod]

so. christmas.
chrissy.
we can help her out:

IMG472837.jpg

crismas

[camarod]

[Most of Eddie’s gifts are left in their most used room. It’s an unhinged mixture: some jewellery that’s real tacky, new CD’s, a view finder that exclusively only flicks through a series of nudes Billy took for it specifically. Dumb stuff to make Eddie laugh.

Then there’s a bigger box and a smaller one: the smaller one has Billy’s mother mary and the spare key for the bike. The larger has a brand new custom electric guitar, deep black and accented in silver. On the neck, Munson’s Wife is engraved.

The card isn’t enveloped - it just reads: B, ❤️. ]

b.hargrove, text

[camarod]

there's commies here
i always thought my dad and harrington were full of shit but they're here