WELCOME TO DREAMWIDTH, HERO...

No, God -- bad dog, Terror. Seriously.

[ the camera jostles a bit, like the person holding the communicator is moving around. there might be a quick glimpse of a little white terrier's wagging tail before the feed finally turns onto terry's (unsurprisingly) disgruntled face. ]

Okay. So. I might be having a slight problem here.

[ more jostling as terry tries to catch his dog again -- and gets out-maneuvered again. ]

My stupid dog may or may not have my roommate in his mouth. That roommate may or may not suddenly be the size of a Ken doll. So -- yeah, whoever's dumb powers are acting up right now, screw you, you suck, et cetera, et cetera.

[ being shrunk down to one-sixth of his usual height also appears to have compressed bradbury's voice -- and his temper, if the squeaky, indignant cussing that's audible off-camera is any indication. ]

Fucking hell! Put me down, you little shit--

[ when terror darts into the camera's view again, the problem becomes immediately more visible, as he's holding a much-diminished bradbury around the waist. at least he's dressed, but the miniature pajamas and t-shirt are thoroughly soaked with dog spit. ]

A little help, here?!

I'm trying.

[ and yet the terrier continues to elude him. ]

Look -- on the off chance that anybody knows how to fix this? That'd be great. If not, I guess I can always hope the Porter decides to bring in the Dog Whisperer before Terror feels like burying Mr. B in the backyard.

[ there's a weird low, subtle rumble to his voice when he talks -- and little something unsteady, like someone might sound when they've had too much caffeine or something. uncomfortable, agitated, restless. ]

I really hate this time of year. What a seriously stupid holiday.

[ there's a noise like someone drawing a curtain closed. ]

Nobody around here happens to have a remote cabin in the woods or anything, do they? 'Cause I'm bailing until it's over. I'd rather not run the risk of needing to be shot in the face by my roommate.

Again.


( Private To: Jenny Quantum, Quentin Quire, Brandon Sharpe, & Julian Keller )

( Private To: Abby Boylen )

[ the video comes on, and there's terry ward, sprawled on someone's kitchen floor like he fell there and couldn't be assed to move just yet, not when his entire body is just newly functional again. from the angle, it looks like for some reason -- with the way the fridge door is open and his legs are half in it still -- that he rolled out of someone's refrigerator. his lips are a bit blue. he also has some lettuce sticking to his shirt.

that frown is not just his default face. he is supremely unamused. his totally annoyed expression is only ruined by the way he has to keep sniffling. runny nose. ]

So which douchebag thought it would be a good idea to stick me inside an appliance while I regenerated? I'm just wondering. Because waking up in a cramped, dark, and cold place after being dead for a week is totally not uncomfortable in any way.

At all.

Where's Julian, Jenny, and Alex? Someone tell me they --

[ exasperated, he lifts a hand to run his fingers through his hair --

only to find that two-thirds of it? is gone. the only remnants of his long, sloppy emo hair is a fluffy, floppy fauxhawk.]

-- what the hell.

[ there's an address to a remote, shady part of town. ]

underground.
that's where she's hiding.

hey doc e?
this one's for katurian.

[Aaand the audio cuts in to Tommy cackling and gasping for breath - when the hell did he get his phone?]

Fffffffahahahahahaaa! Okay, okay, dude. Chill. I got this. I - FFFFF-!

[Just. More mad laughter -- interrupted by a fumbling noise which may or may not be an attempt by the crankiest emo roommate to either empty Tommy's hands or strangle him -- one can't ever be sure with those demon types.]

Dude. No.

I swear I'm gonna make it so you won't sleep for a friggin' month --

[It could be both and Tommy also could be shrieking in the next moment.]

Ohmygoddudenogetoffme RELAX. Trust me on this, I'm helping you out!

[If Tommy sounds a bit different it could be because he managed to break away and zip across the room! Damn speedsters. Terry's coming after you, bro!]

I'm not kidding, Tommy.

Oh fu-! Ifanyonegetsthismessage, please teach Terry the ways of love. Heneedsitheneedsitbad-!

[General discordant tomfoolery can be heard what's going on is too horrible to describe.]

I tried. I really tried! Avenge me Kate...!

[No words, just. Tentacles.]

--hhhggh.

[ there's a clatter as the communicator hits the floor, the fitful rustle of sheets and someone's sluggish movements before there's another thud, heavier this time and more solid. breathing is audible, gasping and uneven at first. ]

Hh.

[ his voice sounds rough, from vocal cords unused. his mind is still catching up with consciousness, a return from the cold blackness of the space between life and death. ]

Nngh-- did we... Did we get her?

[ the camera clicks on to a scenic view of a park playground. birds singing, kids playing, joggers running by, elderly people feeding pigeons from park benches-- only obscured by a partial view of terry's black jeans and a weed or two from where the comm sits next to him in the grass.

you can see terry's hand when he reaches out to point at various park-goers. ]

Snakes-- boring. [ he points at a jogger, then her companion. ] Germs. Public restrooms.

[ an exhale, then moving on to gesture at two little kids: ] Monsters in the closet. Under the bed. Jack-in-the-boxes. Vacuum cleaners.

[ now their parents: ] She's scared to gain weight. He's worried she'll find out about the affair.

[ his arm drops. nothing for a few moments, then finally: ]

It's stupid that people spend their whole lives thinking about this trivial crap all day.

[ the feed moves unsteadily at first, like someone is reacquainting themselves with the weight and feel of the device in their hands-- it shows nothing but the dirty sidewalk, dirtier black sneakers.

at length, there's a huff of breath that might be half-annoyed and a tone to match: ]

So, what, was there a shortage of demon daddy issues here, or did the Porter just decide you guys were sleeping too peacefully at night?

[ a brief pause, crossing the street, before he finally turns the camera to face himself. it's the boy named terrance ward, and unsurprisingly, his mouth is pressed into an unimpressed line, eyebrows slightly furrowed. ]

At least tell me someone's been feeding my stupid dog.