LL cont’

[markofkaine]

[Bad ideas. That’s what Rafael was famous for. Sometimes those bad ideas would pan out into groundbreaking technologies. Other times it would blow up spectacularly in his face - and by extension, all faces adjacent. Not that it ever stopped him from coming up with more.

This one, though. A bridge too far.

Aracha - if that really could be called his name anymore - sat, hunched over, cycling a trinket between his fingers as though in a trance. It felt like the slow, tactile motion was the only thing still keeping him grounded to reality (again, questionable). His mind was… far, far away, in a place that might not even exist anymore, lost. But more than that, alone, in a vast, empty field of deaf, silent rage. And that cold silence seeped into every crack in his brain, filling the folds of his thoughts, the hollow space in his bones, the pockets in his lungs.

He wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. None of this was real. He knew that now.

At some point, his fiance was going to walk through the door and find him sitting at the foot of their his bed. And one way or another, this lie would be shattered.]

Comments

[otherspiderman]

Yeah. Together.

[ There's a pipe here that seems large enough for two people, and looks dry... which means they might not drown in pee water if someone up above flushes. But it also might mean the exit... doesn't exist.

He hums thoughtfully for a second, then turns back to "Aracha".

He can tell the guy doesn't want to let go of him, so... ]

I have an idea, but you're going to have to climb onto my back so I can use both hands.

[markofkaine]

[Climbing, he knows how to do that. Though it is with great reluctance, Aracha lets go and climbs onto Miguel's back - not the conventional way of course. He's just crouching on him with his molecular adhesion stickyhands and stickyfeets.]

Like this?

[otherspiderman]

...





Sure. Just watch your head like that.

[ Time to start climbing into the tunnel... his hands make scritch-scratch noises against the metal, don't worry about it. ]

[markofkaine]

Mmn.

[Amazing that your tiny little claws can hold both their weight. At least Kaine hadn't gone through his growth spurt yet, he's still mostly Peter-sized. He ducks as small as a cowering sad clone can manage.

...hey is that a tiny crack of light?]

[otherspiderman]

[ Please let it be a tiny crack of light. ]

We're almost there.

[ PLEASE LET US ALMOST BE THERE. ]

[markofkaine]

[WHOA THE TINY CRACK OF LIGHT IS BECOMING A MEDIUM SIZED CRACK OF LIGHT. WHICH IS THEN BECOMING A LARGE ONE. Funny how that works

As Miguel pulls them both through, clawing through the crevice, what greets them is... softness. The threadcount of luxury bedsheets, and the dimness of an unlit bedroom. And each other's face, with furrowed brows, as though suffering from a bad dream. And in the case of one of them, a hangover.]

[otherspiderman]

[ Holy shock it's good enough that it worked!

Once in the state of "very groggily waking up" Miguel is mumbling something horrible. Something dire. ]

Together...

[ And clapping an arm over the warm body near him before sticking his face right into his shoulder. Maybe he'll go back to sleep. He can avoid reality that way. ]

[markofkaine]

[It almost felt like one dream had ebbed into the next - that he was Aracha again, indulging in another sleepy morning curled up against the man he loved. The warmth was the same, the scent, the softness of the sheets.

Then... the ache. That dry brained throbbing in his head. The vaguely nauseous, exhausted feeling that no amount of sleep had replenished him. This kind of sucks? It sucked bad enough that it actually resembled the sinking weight of reality...

...

And that's when Miguel got shoved off the bed to the sound of screaming.]

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?

[otherspiderman]

[ From his dignified place on the floor: ]

what the shock... just happened...

[markofkaine]

[shrieking continues as Kaine bolts for the ceiling-- only for the hangover to rear its ugly head, causing him to lose his grip and drop down onto the bed again.]

WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED-- nghhk!

[We're all dignified here]

[otherspiderman]

[ He's cracked an eye open just in time to half-see the guy fall from the ceiling.

Really, really, really trying hard not to laugh right now. It'll get him killed. ]

Ugh. God, I don't know. I was bringing your drunk butt back and then... passed out?

[ He's squinting (with one eye) at the ceiling while he's trying to figure out how that happened. ]

[markofkaine]

[I ALREADY WANT TO KILL YOU

Holding his head, doubled over with brain agony, he allows himself a modicum of writhing (but angrily) (and while glaring)]

And somehow you were all over me again!

[With your sexy arms and your comforting body heat! You monster!!]

[otherspiderman]

[ Okay. That's fair. Even if he was lulled to sleep from an unknown source of spider magic, this guy doesn't deserve to wake up in emotional turmoil because he got one-sided cuddled in their old room.

He sighs and starts sitting up, rubbing his eyes. ]

Sorry.

[markofkaine]

[He is definitely not sulking. And even if he were sulking it was for the totally normal reason, like someone he didn't like invading his space. And even if it wasn't someone he didn't like, he was still surprised by it and that's upsetting on its own.

Either way, his voice is seething. Just let him suffer in peace! Alone, like God intended!]

Get out.

[otherspiderman]

Yeah, yeah. I'm going.

[ He is, now that he is startlingly aware that he just had the most vivid dream ever, and then got shunted out of bed by his ex, who starred in the dream. ]

Try to make it back here before you get wasted next time.

[markofkaine]

Whatever.

[He's too miserable to even look at Miguel as he leaves. But knowing that he's driving the only love he's known away... inside, Kaine can't help but wail, trapped in his thoughts as a pure cry of loneliness and despair.

Don't! Come back! Stay with me! I need you!]

[otherspiderman]

[ On pure instinct, spurred on by the sudden voice in his thoughts, he's knocking on the door back to their room.

Knocking is a kind word to use; he's pounding on it with a sort of desperation that matches the upset in his mind.

What is he doing? Holy shock why did he come back? Why didn't he just leave? He's surely just imagining that he's being called back—if he wants ?Aracha? to answer the door or not...

...he's not sure.

BANG BANG BANG again. ]

[markofkaine]

[The thoughts still, if only in surprise. Why is he coming back. Why so aggressively?

Kaine is on the defensive again, at least partially because the noise is hell on his head right now]

Wh-what do you want!!

[otherspiderman]

[ Inhales. Swallows. Inhales again. Christ, he feels like an idiot. He is an idiot. But in his defence... who else would know what to do in this situation?

Are you supposed to know what to do when you're rewired to have a second life and you have to reconcile that with your first life? ]

I'll bring you a painkiller if you talk to me.

[markofkaine]

That's blackmail.

[It's not a no....... he's desperate]

[otherspiderman]

Yeah, it is. I know you're in pain. I have a lot of memories of you getting drunk and regretting it.

[markofkaine]

[YOU GOT HIM THERE. With a groan, he falls face first into his pillow and privately bemoans every god that might exist.]

You're a @#$&. Gimme the goddamn painkillers.

[otherspiderman]

[ But he's a WINNING @#$&.

After a minute, he's back with a bottle of pills and a water bottle. He doesn't knock (furi: bang) on the door this time, he just lets himself back in.

And though he wants to sit on the bed... he swings an armchair closer and sits in that, holding out the goods. ]

Here.

[ He's putting on the gentlest tone he has, which isn't very gentle, but he's doing his best here. ]

[markofkaine]

[What sucks is Kaine recognizing it as his gentle voice. A fact he tries very hard to ignore as he reaches out to snatch the water and pills like a guarded stray animal. He knocks back two pills and chugs half the water bottle while he's at it, pointedly not saying anything the whole time.

It's only with a considerable amount of inner turmoil that he even manages to force out a single terse word. He's certainly unhappy about it. No eye contact continues.]

...thanks.

[otherspiderman]

Yeah. No problem.

[ A not-so-insignificant part of him feels relief; finally, he's doing something to help his... well, he's not his anymore.

Leaning back in the chair, Miguel gazes back at the ceiling he was forcibly admiring before. He's spent a lot of hours in this room, staring at this same ceiling. Only before, he was always with Aracha. ]

Will you tell me your name?