TDM 005

[etrayamods]

⏵ arrival ⏴ Arrival goes as anticipated. Characters awaken in a sterile hospital bed in a clean, white room to the hum of machines under the unnatural lighting common to well-kept institutions. Every bit was designed to be comforting and calming, even with the jarring undercurrent of this situation. The first face they see is Aurora's: her smile appears to be warm, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. She might offer a quick explanation, or leave characters to figure it out for themselves depending on their approach. The door to the room swings open, revealing a hallway that stretches out ahead of them. There’s noise from outside and strong pumpkin spice scents coming from the lobby. Ah, muffins and tea. Grab one and head into the crisp, sunny fall morning ahead. ⏵ potluck ⏴ Cutthroat Iron Etrayan Bake-Off As you step out of the arrival holding area into the main thoroughfare, the entire street has been turned into tents and chef stations to accommodate the activities of thirty people at once. There’s seats, trailers, and robots bustling about to make sure everyone is ready. A couple of cheerful robots in aprons and colorful sweaters approach and redirect you as you step towards the cooking area. There’s gas ranges, ovens, grills, blast chillers, mixers, and set walk-ins and pantries with just about every ingredient you can imagine. There are cameramen (also robots) patrolling the area to capture all your best moments and to broadcast them directly to your fellow citizens’ devices. Your instruction? “Make your signature dish. You have one hour, chef.” It can’t just be straightforward, can it? The land itself is held together with pure chaotic energy. If you’re lucky, all goes as planned. If you aren’t… well… Roll a Die 1 Your leg is now tied to another chef’s 2 Your meal is continually un-cooking itself. 3 All of your ingredients are pickled now 4 The longer you touch an ingredient, the bigger it gets. 5 Every time you lift your pot lid, a component changes. 6 The aromatics are glowing and flashing like LED lights. 7 Your knife has been replaced with a cheese grater. 8 The ingredients are now magnetically stuck together. 9 Your meal is becoming deep fried. 10 Kittens are multiplying out of the cupboard. * 11 All of your ingredients have become incredibly heavy. 12 Your cook pot moves burners whenever you turn around. 13 Eggs scream when you crack them 14 The kitchen has become incredibly slippery. 15 It’s soup now. 16 All utensils have been replaced with crustaceans. ** 17 Your knife has a mind of its own. Watch out! 18 Your fridge catches fire. 19 Your pasta is trying to escape. Go get it. 20 Any ingredient not in the pot starts to float away. * All kittens disappear at the end. ** These however, stay. ⏵ share a meal ⏴ As all the cooking concludes, you will be invited to plate your meal into one of many casserole dishes, regardless of what was made. A ladle will be tucked into the corner and placed on the table with a folded bit of cardstock declaring the chef’s name and the name of the dish. A helper camerabot will come around to each participant and ask for their thinking and their process. Even if you got away without having to cook, even looking towards the table of dishes will spur a helper bot to start making you a plate with one of everything. The helperbot will insist that it is rude to not at least try what their peers have made. In fact, if you are to fill out the score card for each person, you really must taste everything! The robots can’t try the food, so it’s up to you. The cards look like so. The grading system is opaque. Is it meant to be numbers? Stars? Letter grades? Well, you’re the judge. You figure it out. Chef: ___________ Dish:_____________ Judge:___________ Overall Rating:_______ Flavor Presentation Stackability Wet Originality Rizz ⏵ tummy ache survivor ⏴ No matter how well your compatriots cooked or baked their dishes, there are… factors. You see that carrot? It’s really just condensed chaos in the shape of a carrot. No matter how powerful you are, these particular ingredients may not mesh with your being. …And even if it is truly a carrot, do all the chefs know the proper cooking temperature of chicken? Even chickens are aliens to many. (Optional) Roll a Die 1 Tummy Ache. Go lay in bed. Complaining alleviates symptoms. 2 That plate of food has energized you. You feel compelled to race or spar. 3 The food has reminded you of home. You must tell someone a detail of your childhood. 4 That food was so horrible that it simply must be washed out somehow. Spicy peppers? Booze? Gravel??? You’re going to over do it. 5 You have now discovered your new favorite dish. Make them teach it to you or you’ll lose sleep over it. This is all you want to eat for the next week. 6 The oddity of the ingredients has transferred to you. You start floating away. 7 The range of food and textures have inspired you. Acquire an annoying new hobby or habit. 8 You are now haunted by the digital souls of chickens. ⏵ NOTES ⏴ Please direct all questions to our mod queries comment! ⏵FULL NAVIGATION⏴

Comments

Tommy Shepherd | Marvel Comics (616) | OTA

[slowmotionbuscrash]

Roll a die - 16, 10, and 1

[ Tommy is a connoisseur of restaurants. He can cook, somewhat, but his cooking skills largely consist of a "boil this in the bag", "place on a tray and put it in the oven", and if he has to, "fry it until it's brown". He's great at following recipes; he just needs a small army of timers to keep him on track.

All of this mean nothing when presented with a huge array of completely raw, totally unprepared ingredients and zero recipes. It also doesn't help that his only motivation is to make the damn robots leave him the hell alone. When complaining, berating, and threatening the robots doesn't accomplish that - fine, fuck it, he'll cook. He's hungry anyway.

He's doing his best, he thinks, grabbing carrots, onion, celery, chicken and noodles. Those things go together. He's seen them together, he knows what "done" tastes like. He can do this. Green stuff. Herbs. Yeah. Needs at least one of those.

And here he hits the first brick wall, because he can't tell the difference between parsley and thyme or indeed any fresh herb. The delay is apparently too long. He doesn't know it, but that's why the tongs he's using to pick up ingredients turns into a king crab, which immediately tries to take a chunk out of his arm.

Tommy swears and wrenches the thing off him, chucking it at the nearest robot. ]

Here's your dinner? Can I GO? Ijustwantfuckinggarlic.

[ That one. That's dill. He can smell it. He's had dill in chicken soup from delis. Dill goes with chicken. Great. Fuck.

The robot follows him into his cooking area, depositing the crab on the counter. Tommy swears and starts searching the kitchen for a mallet to take care of the crustecean.

Five minutes later, the kitchen is a mess with nothing so much as chopped, because he's still playing whack-a-mole with the crabs that came pouring out of every drawer he's open. Whack-a-mole with a cast iron frying pan, because there's nothing in the kitchen resembling a meat tenderizer, potato masher, or knife. Not even a fancy little fork.

Naturally, that is precisely when the universe decided that kittens should rain from the cabinets to encourage him along in his endeavors. Ten minutes into the competition finds him sweaty, furious, and covered in any number of healing scratches from claws of both sea and land. Maybe a sous chef, to keep him on track?

A rope snakes around his entire leg, pulling fast when he tries to get out. Staying there when he tries to vibrate his leg free and screw this he is going to blow those robots up if he gets his hands on them. They're dead. They're so dead. When he sees the person on the other end of the rope, well, he snaps. He's at the end of his rope here. It's not personal. ]

I swear if you don't DO SOMETHING about this -

[ Tommy waves a hand at the general chaos. ]

I am going to hold you responsible for whatever I do!

Tummy Ache Survivor - 6

[ Tommy Shepherd is a lot of things. All of which are ground-dwelling and very fond of personal freedom. Flying, no matter what anyone claims, is not freeing. It is, in fact, terrifying when it's not under your own power or the power of something that you can see and know. Like a plane. Or wings.

Casually drifting up and away with no real control over where and how fast - no thank you. No thank you. Tommy tries to swim back down. Nothing. He only succeeds in getting lightheaded from being upside down.

He reaches his hand out towards a passerby and tries to be cool about it - he does this all the time. Who doesn't? ]

Yo! Help a guy out?

[ OOC: Wildcards are welcome or hit me up on seemarierun. ]

Tummy Ache Survivor

[restitui]

[ He's starting to think that he's gotten off easy with the just having the zoomies (which is funny since, in any universe, he's not the twin who you'd describe "with the zoomies"). He feels like an anxious bundle of nerves one second away from going into a full sprint which is.... honestly sometimes not that different from normal, but usually he doesn't get to the actual "and sprint" phase. ]

[ He feels overloaded, so maybe it's precisely this reason he doesn't see the other kid swimming towards him immediately until he hears the voice and he just... proverbially jumps out of his skin in panic as he turns around, ]

What?

[ It's half a yelp, half a word before he catches sight of the older teenager. ] Oh, god. Yeah.

Here, hold on.

[ He shifts to climb onto a nearby chair and reach a hand out in his direction. ]

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ Sure, take your time with fussing over standing on a chair. He can wait. He has no other choice, really, and the dark-haired teen is the first person he's drifted by in what feels like hours.

So like two minutes. Still, it's two minutes that he doesn't want to go through again. Tommy keeps his sarcasm to himself rather than find out how long it takes to slowly float to the top of the dome, and he grabs onto the offered hand as soon as he can get two fingers on it. ]

Yeah no, I'm not letting go until I've got both feet back on the ground. But you pull, OK? I don't know how this works and I'd rather not us both be enjoying the gravity free lifestyle.

[restitui]

[ WOW. He is not that slow Tommy? Maybe it just feels this slow because you're usually the speedy one and he is currently all on the high energy radar. Which is to say, it's really a good thing he moves as he does. ]

Maybe it's one of those as long as we hold hands you stay on the ground things?

[ He's really not thinking about the logistics of the part through, because the reasonable answer would be they're either both grounded or do start both floating away. Instead, he pulls so his hand can take the other boy's hand firmly in hand until he can grasp it into both of his hands. Pulling and stepping back (down) until he's closer to the ground. ]

What ingredients can make someone float? Are you sure you didn't swallow a whole potion?

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ Yeah, he’s that slow. Or Tommy’s that fast, but he’s not inclined to blame himself for something that he can’t help. There’s a few people that get a pass on slow though: Billy, David, Kate, Teddy, other Young Avengers when they’re not being uptight. And random dudes helping him with his little buoyancy problem.

Tommy manages to flip himself around when he’s tugged down towards the ground. His feet are technically on the ground now, but something’s off about it. He doesn’t feel weighted to it, like the motion hasn’t stopped. ]

Something doesn’t feel ri- ugh. Noitsokay. I’m good.

[ There was a split second where his equilibrium reoriented and the world spun. His face tinged green, but it cleared in a blink. He shook his head and let go of his new best friend’s hand.

Immediately started drifting away. Tommy was half a foot off the ground when he gave up on trying to stay on tiptoe and snagged the hand back. ]

I didn’t have any potions! I had robot tuna casserole like everybody else. This sucks.

[ It’s the closest he can get to an apology. He needs help and doesn’t expect from a stranger. ]

Can you - this is gonna sound stupid. Can you get me over to a tree or…

[ His question tails off, but abruptly. The gap between the confusion and the hard right turn of a tangent is quick, and Tommy’s staring at Billy with a sharper look in his eyes. He looks - not unfamiliar. ]

Who are you?

just sending it but lemme know if it doesn't work :')

[restitui]

[ One can only go up and one can only go zoom, they sure are a pair. It takes a lot of concentration not to think about that or the whirling feeling of weightlessness that's an emotion (thought) of about to be sick that can... Well, he only usually hears (feels) the thoughts of people he's close to so this is weird. ]

Dude, you are so not good, don't give me that.

[ It's said in the speed up way of needing to be in motion that he tries to shake off and doesn't quite. Especially not when the other teenager lets go and is already back in motion so he's also really quick to clasp hand, one hand moving to his arm to ensure his safety as he huffs a laugh, ]

Tell me about it. I feel like I'm a second away from sprinting halfway across the platform if someone looks me in the eye. I'm not even a sprinter. Not close.

[ He's an investigator. That's what he is, there's not a physical bone in his body (that probably all went to another twin....) He swallows: ]

Or a trash can-like object? Yeah.

[ He tries to smile helpfully, encouragingly, but before he can move another step the other is looking at him and something in him feels... Seen. No, that's not quite right. It's something else. It's why he starts: ]

I'm - [ A beat, like he isn't sure how to answer. Like it's a question for himself as well (it is) and then answers: ] William Kaplan.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ Tommy can think as fast as he can run, and Billy has his brain going in what would feel like thirteen different directions. For the speedster, it’s linear. For anyone else, it’s flashes of what Tommy spends any real amount of time on. Bullshit - perm? - fucking what - a mental image of himself with curly hair -

The “trash-can like object” joke clicks and he barks out a laugh. ]

I promise not to puke in your direction. I got over it.

[ His thoughts shift from inner narration to visualization. Aurora explaining the alternate universes - the first time he saw Wanda Maximoff - the curve of her jawline. His jawline. This Billy’s jawline. Well at least Uncle Pietro didn’t have another kid. A cute guy at a party, with a straight-haired Billy in a starry shirt in the background of the memory.

Fuck. Why? How? Where’s the right one? What if it’s “Mother” that everyone was babbling about?

It’s not a happy train of thought, but there’s a desperate undercurrent of wanting it to be happy. The sort of self-squashing hope someone struggles with when they’ve been kicked in the teeth too much. He settles on sardonically amused. ]

Nah I’m the sprinter.

Billy.

[restitui]

[ The boy is used to being overwhelmed by certain intense thoughts. This is different: It's like he's swimming a marathon upstream. Of a total stranger. It doesn't make sense. His sass is therefore, mild at best when it emerges: ]

Say that when I let go of your hands and you float away again.

[ The sass is there, but overlapped and overwhelmed by flashes of thoughts he can't begin to fully understand. Wanda Maximoff. Pietro. Those are the only names he can cling to in the wave of someone else's understanding - of an unhappiness that premeates it all. Even when he settles on something else, even when he seems to catch up to the present... The younger teenager blinks, confused and processing. ]

I don't understand.

[ What he's thinking. What it all means. Nah, I'm the sprinter, he says and it's really all he needs. The speedster and his mindreading brother, Mister Bohnerific had said. He swallows and before he can thinks about it, before he can stop himself (which means, yes, letting go of his hand thanks diceroll 2/20). William - Billy? - is breathing out: ]

You're Tommy.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

Uh, yeah? Last time I checked.

[ He has to ask? Tommy’s almost insulted and doesn’t try to anchor himself a third time. Sure, he had to convince himself too; that’s different. Billy’s a nerd. He’s supposed to figure it out. Maybe not quicker, but with less steps, and come up with a plan to wish them both where they belong.

He folds his arm over his chest as he gently bobs, slowly gaining altitude. Tries and fails to wait his twin (?) out. No, not twin. This Billy didn’t steal his face. ]

I’m not going to barf on you. See I can still say it when you let go. So do I pass whatever test that’s supposed to be? I don’t care how sick I am, I can turn my head before you get Exorcisted. Is this about me not staying at your parents’ place? It was too weird, okay? They were always there with bagel bites and sweater vests trying to not be concerned.

[ Which was great - legitimately, truly great - for Billy, who needed that kind of support. But it wasn’t real. They had no reason to give a shit about Tommy, and he felt like he was on eggshells the whole time. Families like the Kaplans existed in Hallmark movies and the Upper West Side.

If this - fuck it, if Billy doesn’t want to help him, he’ll find somebody else. ]

tw for body disphoria, just in case

[restitui]

[ Last time I checked, the other teenager says and he looks down. This time, it's not the thoughts of the speedster that have him in a whirlwind. His own thoughts feel like they temper his own need for momentum, as if his investigative spirit is suddenly spiraling to come to an answer. To - what? ]

[ He knows he's Billy Maximoff. He knows because there's such a large part of him that has felt wrong and out of place and like this body isn't his own. That woke up in an ambulance three years ago staring at a stranger, living a stranger's life. That knew something was wrong and that Tommy was missing. But he's also William Kaplan. The past three years is all he knows. Right now, he feels a lot more like William than he does Billy. ]

[ The fact the other can say it so easily I'm Tommy, feels like he's being pulled into an undercurrent. ]

I don't - [ He swallows something down. ] It's not a test.

[ Finally, looking back up, there's a spark of concern and panic as he realizes that yes Tommy is floating again and that outweighs (momentarily) the confusion at his words that knit his brows. A hand goes to grab him in the same, too quick and without thinking way, trying to ground Tommy once more if he let him. ]

[ But there's something heavy and confused settling in his stomach. There's a wishfulness in his heart: He wants this to be real even if it doesn't make sense. Something in him tells him it's Tommy in the same way he's known he was always out there even if the words the other speaks feel wrong, they're not about him. ]

[ The other boy's thoughts, his own thoughts, the experiences of the last few hours - days? - on the Road are enough to set his emotions on edge. His eyes sting and he doesn't know what to say for a few moments before he starts: ]

I don't know what you're talking about. I - I barely know who I am? William or Billy. Three years ago I died and I came back —


[ A pause as he forces out: ] I don't remember anything. I'm learning now, but -

[ It's the truth. The only other person in the world who he willingly told this truth was Eddie. He wouldn't normally speak about it, not this way. Not with anyone. Not even when Agatha bombarded him. But it spills out as he falters a moment. Closes his eyes and then looks up at him earnestly: ]

One of the only things I knew for certain was that Tommy was out there and I had to find him. [ He swallows. ] And that you're my brother.

[ Well, the last part is a newer revelation, but he had been so intrinsically drawn to this being Tommy he knew he must be important. ]

[slowmotionbuscrash]

You died?

[ Too much to unpack and also not enough at all. Billy’s never mentioned dying. Okay, they went to hell. Actually, they went to hell twice, if the first time counts. Tommy thinks it does. Sooo not the point. Point is: they weren’t dead.

Tommy lets himself be towed back down. Doesn’t really move aside from that. More like … reconfigures. What was a show of annoyance folds in on itself, and his arms stay crossed more out of an effort to not hug Billy. The straight line of his shoulders slumps in a curve, chest concaving until he’s almost hugging himself.

Because it hits too close to some of Tommy’s quiet doubts - I barely know who I am. I don’t remember anything. He’s Tommy Shepherd. He’s Tommy Maximoff. Most of his memories are after he turned 13 and blew up his school. He thought that was normal. Little kid memories fade, don’t they? He’s never asked anyone about it, though. They’d think he was nuts.

Besides, he remembers his parents, and he remembers Mephisto.

He’s also the Scarlet Witch’s son, and she made the whole damn world believe something else about themselves. It hurts his head to think about. So he doesn’t. Easy.

But he never has to stand in front of himself and see the pain those doubts cause. And he never died, shit. ]

You know the important part. I’m your brother. It’s like the one thing everyone agrees on. The rest of it - you can’t get stuck on some William or Billy existential divide that doesn’t exist. You’re Billy and that’s short for William. Problem solved: you’re just you. The history of you doesn’t matter, and anyone who says it does only wants to use it against you.

[ Back to what’s important and not Billy overthinking himself into an ulcer. ]

I’m going to need names so I know whose ass I’m kicking. About the… dead thing. I get that you’re okay now. Ish.

[restitui]

[ Tommy repeats and he doesn't respond. His eyes turning downwards as his jaw sets is the only answer. And this, in itself, is really answer enough. His heart hammers and his mind races: with his own thoughts. With the thoughts of a brother who feels like his brother, in the way only some lifeline of magick can, even if the details aren't adding up. Even is thoughts don't line up to the events of Earth or even - ]

You blew up a school?

[ He breaks out, after a moment, blinking at him. That sounds bizarre, but maybe so does reading your brother's mind out of the blue. There's a lot of weird things going on. Where Tommy tries not to think about it, William (he is still William) cannot stop thinking about it. ]

[ You're Billy and that's short for William. It's right. It's such a laughably easy way to look at it, but his eyes continue to sting. His stomach rolls. He can't describe that William - the original William Kaplan is dead. That whatever happened he - Billy? - took over his body. That he'd built up a facade of who William was and lived as it day after day for his parents, because otherwise he'd have to try do something like... what? He's some bodysnatcher who isn't their son. It'd hurt them, it'd hurt him. ]

[ He only knows how to be William; Billy as he was or who he is was buried for the witchcraft loving fanboy from a good home that was a good kid. He can't say that, even now, even to the person who feels so intrinsically important that he can't look at him. Connecting the pieces of William and Billy being the same simply wasn't where the puzzle was at yet (because this a TDM afterall). ]

I know the important part, you're my brother. [ He agrees out loud, even if he struggles to agree with the rest. He wipes at an eye with his free hand and almost laughs, the small smile tentative as he breathes out: ]

There's no ass to kick. Unfortunately. It was a car crash. Wanda had a town under her control and we were driving home... My parents got distracted watching the spell go in itself and lost control over the car.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ Tommy is naively operating on the idea that Billy is Billy is Billy. That his checking that Tommy was Tommy was in fact the same - similar enough to cause whiplash, different enough to hesitate. Isn’t there anything else Billy could reach for? It has to be that?

Talk about using history against you. Whatever. He owns the risk of bad boy on the team. Tommy huffs quietly, and his voice loses some of the cocksure pride it always carries, but he’s not ashamed. ]

I didn’t mean to. So, yeah, I broke in at night for a dumb prank. Powers don’t come with a manual. I figured out how to go through walls and I thought it’d be funny to mess up the hallways or flood the bathrooms and get a day off. I didn’t know what happened if I sped other stuff up too long. It goes boom.

[ He knows a brave face when he sees it, and maybe the extra detail is a trade. Or a distraction from something worse, with no one to blame. Tommy can’t ask him anything else about his dying. If Billy starts to crumble again, he really will hug him. Tommy’s not sure if that’s…allowed. Or if Billy won’t let him go again, this time with a shove. Honestly, it’s 50/50 that Tommy’d tell him to get off if it was the other way around.

He doesn’t remember Wanda having control over a town, but it’s not like he cared about the news before he went all superhero. Or that he started paying attention to Maximoffs in the news. ]

Why does it matter? It was years ago. I was 13. You know all this. You don’t get to just bring it up whenever it pops in your head.

[restitui]

[ William is not allowed to judge on reckless behaviors given he very recently broke into a lady's house the same night as meeting a man in a dark garage while not telling a single adult what he was doing on either encounter. But he does understand the rest of it: finding out powers without knowing or meaning to. Not quite the same, he hasn't really had the capability to experiment only learning on the fly - so he nods. ]

You can go through stuff? That's so cool. [ Said like a kid who barely knows or can use his own power, but he nods. ] At least it sounds like you didn't get hurt...? Did anybody find out?

[ Eventually, they'll figure out their timelines are different. Probably. Not that it matters, brothers are brothers across universes. Even when there's oddities popping up. I was 13 Tommy says and there's some spark of mental alertness at the similarity but as for the rest... ]

I don't know about it, though. [ He takes a breath. ] I didn't even have a face for a name before I met you five minutes ago.

roll a die — 1

[wundagores]

[in truth, wanda hasn't been doing much better.

every attempt on her part to use magic to assuage the chaos has gone from bad to worse; trying to telekinetically banish the crabs from the kitchen has made even more of them multiply, a desperate effort to conjure ingredients that aren't present has only turned up in kittens. it's these events, and so many more, that have her hands shaking, her breaths short, her hair in disarray, and just generally looking like a deeply frazzled woman who's experienced the worst day of her life —

and that's before the rope snakes around her leg, too, tying her to someone at the next station.

it's not his fault, or the fault of anything he's actually saying, but just the simple nature of someone speaking to her at all in this moment has her on the verge of tears. she manages to blink them back, fortunately, but she can't keep the tremor out of her voice when she says,]

I'm sorry. I'm not — [she gestures vaguely around them with a shaking hand.] I'm not doing this. [or, at least she thinks; at the moment, she's not quite so sure, because it's reminiscent of when everything in westview had started to fall apart around her. slowly, she takes in a steadying breath.] But I can make it better.

[this time, when she waves her hand, there's a red glow — and in that one sweep, all of the bots fall back at least thirty feet, giving them more space to breathe.

better, right?]

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ Better. Not great, but Tommy feels less like bolting with the close overbearing presence of the robot overloaded with their aprons and their “helpful advice” like they’re not floating around just to keep everyone in line. He can take a second and just be.

Her overt use of powers helps too. That’s basically permission to act freely. Tommy usually does, but even he knows that if you randomly turn up in a place that you absolutely don’t belong, like, the first thing you do shouldn’t be show off that you’re superhuman. People get antsy.

He blurs but goes nowhere, remembering the magic rope before he accidentally drags the lady away. Okay, so he can’t go find a cardboard box. There’s a stock pot. That’ll work.

He starts gathering up the kittens at just above reasonable human speed. They’re only babies, after all. One or two even get a scritch on the way into the pot. ]

I’m not doing “it” either. Kitchen show of my nightmares isn’t my thing. It isn’t anyone’s thing so I don’t know why you’re doing this.

[ The last is loudly, pointedly directed at the nearest robot. ]

We’re stuck together, but you’re okay.

[ He guesses. Hard to tell what’s frizzed from the menagerie and what’s real. Adults always look stressed to a 17 year old. She looks like he feels, which is that a shit day became a great day and then suddenly a bewildering shit day. She might’ve skipped the great part. ]

If you want to try and cook for the droids, I won’t get in your way. But this pot stays away from the stove at all times. F the crabs though.

[wundagores]

[they can, at least, have that breath; she's confident that the bots will be back before long, as is their overeager tendency here in general, but there's a moment. it's enough for the knot to loosen in wanda's chest, for her to recenter and not feel so close to fraying. for the first time in what feels like an eternity (it hasn't actually been that long), there's actual hope of making it out of this intact.

but the thought leaves her mind the instant she watches him form a blur in a way that's achingly familiar — because that's when everything stops. a utensil that she's picked up clatters out of her grip, into the pot by the stove.

her gasp is sharp. tears return to her eyes, stinging in the corners. but that's —

purely a coincidence. among an infinite number of universes, the odds that someone could have a power like that surely aren't so rare.

she has to get it together.

scrunching her eyes tightly shut for a moment, wanda nods furiously to herself, until she's no longer being dragged around, and still on her feet again. by the time the boy looks back, it's possible that he doesn't see anything at all.]

Maybe if we ignore the crabs, they'll just go away? [it sounds unconvincing, even to her own ears. but:] They didn't like it when I tried to send them somewhere else.

[who likes being banished somewhere, wanda

anyway:]

And we'll keep working. Find the — [what are they making here, exactly?] cheese.

[yes. good start.]

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ By the time he looks back? Wanda should know better, with a speedster in the room. Tommy looked back as soon as she gasped. There are crabs and kittens and robots flying around - if she gasps, he's gonna look.

And then he's going to look around, because Tommy can't tell if it's something new or I she's slipping further into crisis over cooking in a Salvador Dali painting.

Did something just happen? Was it the superspeed? Althouh. You you did whip out the telekinesis first. Yeah, you don't get to gasp over that, lady. Because my day so far is hey man welcome what the fuck stop wrecking the hospital cool it! Nobody's gonna hurt you now. This dude Echo stole you to make you champion your world, bet you're sorry you wanted to be a hero, Tommy, but holdup you don't get to fight now and you definitely don't get to meet him. Go do this cooking show! We promise it's helping. How? Reasons. You probably had the same day. So I'm going to find the cheese and you're gonna stay there and be fine because we're on camera.

Actually you're not staying here, you're moving with me cause they tied us together, but you'll still be fine.

[wundagores]

[for a moment, it had looked like they might actually avert the crisis; she'd been looking around, searching for potential utensils and ingredients. but out of all the words coming out of his mouth in a rush, there's one that undoes all that progress in one fell swoop. there's one that has her brain slipping right into a blue screen of death.

a speedster. named —]

Tommy.

[wanda sounds like she's on the verge of fracturing as she repeats. yes, here, among all the cameras and the chaos — that she's all but forgotten about. all that she knows converges on a disbelieving stare, fixated on him as she's frozen. helpless.]

You can't be Tommy. That's not possible.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

That’s not possible.

[ Tommy mimics her churlishly. He can’t be Tommy, but everything else he said is totally plausible and normal? What kind of weird line is that to draw? Who hears a recap about how you landed in Etraya and gets hung up on the name? ]

I think I know my name better than you.

[ It’s not as churlish as it could be. She’s weirdly upset about it, but then they’re both having a day. He gets it. But he is trying to make the best of it here until he can figure out what’s going on, and he’s not about to let her pick on him to make herself feel better. ]

But go ahead. Explain why I can’t be Tommy. Get it out of your system and then I need to nuke a hot dog or boil a crab so the robots let us go and I will be mocking you the entire time.

Tummy Ache Survivor

[kidnappered]

[Between being a doctor and a poisoner he is not very interested in eating random food prepared by random people.

So he had preferred to cook rather than eat, thank you. He's not purposefully giving anyone food poisoning but if he had the choice he'd rather be the one accidentally giving people food poisoning than getting it, thanks.

He turns his head when he ears a voice calling out. Huh.

Well, that's different. Then again, all of this was different and even though he'd listened to all the explanations he still felt off-kilter. He's not going to show it though as he smiled almost serenely.]

What did you need help with?

[It was obvious but he's not in a good mood and teasing people makes him feel better about it. Also, he didn't want to make assumptions: maybe the young man wanted to go higher.]

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ What did you need - really? How is it possible for Tommy to be surrounded with dumbasses at all times!?! Like giving someone a hard time while you're helping them is cool, but while you're helping them. Don't leave them hanging.
Floating. ]

"What did you need help with?" Oh, I don't know. Let me think about this one. There's a dude up in the air - that's me, my guy - and he's reaching out towards you because people aren't supposed to be in the air. I don't know. Forgot what I wanted.

[ Dude can keep walking with his creepy-dazed smile. Tommy doesn't think he's got two brain cells to rub together and would probably make it worse for the stupidity. ]

Roll a die

[justprime]

Look, I understand how aggravating this is. Trust me, I'm mad too.

[He sounds like it too. There is a definite edge of irritation to his otherwise calm and measured voice.]

But while anger can solve a lot of problems? This isn't one of them. It's already chaotic enough as it is.

[slowmotionbuscrash]

[ The ONE YEAR he doesn't have giant-ass robot on his bingo card. The. One. Year.

Tommy doesn't mind the vocal irritation. He minds that the big boy bot isn't helping. ]

Oh. migod. I don't need anger management advice! Wrote the book. Got the mantra tattooed. I'm good. Drink herbalife. CAN YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT THE CRABS.

Tummy Ache Survivor - 6

[talkstoomuch]

[of all the things Ari wasn't expecting, this would go on the list.

a man just kind of floating...flying? like a very awkward Superman.

but she can't not try to help, right? she'd want someone to do the same if it were her in that situation.

so she stands on her tippytoes to try and give herself a little more height and reached her hand up as far as it would go] Take my hand if you want to--no, now's not the time to mess up a Terminator quote, just grab my hand! [she hopped up as high as she could, trying to grasp a hold of him by any body part necessary]