[log] meeting madness [closed]

[armoured]

Characters: Tim and Al
Location: Building 122
Date: 423, night
Summary: Al comes to babysit Masky
Warnings: Nothing yet, anything that crops up will go in the subject lines

[Al has travelled as fast as he could to get here, but even so it's still taken him three full days and he's cutting it pretty close to lockdown when he does eventually get there. He skids in the door and nearly slips on the floor thanks to wet metal feet, only keeping his balance by some very ungainly windmilling of his arms.

Once he has his balance, he's back on the alert again. He's so worried that Tim won't be here any more, or that he will be here but he won't have bothered to take care of himself at all.]

Hello? Is anyone here? Tim?

Comments

[maskintape]

[ Man, it sure would be nice if Tim was here, wouldn't it. Tim really should be here, since it's pretty rare for Masky to be in the driving seat for more than a day or so lately.

Should, schmould. Not-Tim is sitting in a particularly shadowy corner, masked, and with a nail-studded chair leg tucked under one arm. It'd probably be pretty spooky if not for the whole thing where they're also eating a bag of pretzels by shoving handfuls of them under the mask and munching away noisily.

They look up at Al, stare for a few seconds, and shake their head. Nope. No Tim. Just them.

I HOPE AL IS READY FOR SOME INFURIATING BULLSHIT TODAY, ]

[armoured]

[Al isn't even annoyed by the response, because he's just so relieved to see Tim there in any incarnation. He's actually eating, too, which allays another one of his worries right away.]

Okay... not Tim, then.

[Apparently.]

What would you like me to call you?

[maskintape]

[ Oh, neat! This is the opposite of being ordered around. Looks like Brian's worries were unnecessary.

The question is a little confusing, though, and Masky just shrugs awkwardly. Are they supposed to have a preference? ]

No name. We do not have.

[ It's Tim's voice, obviously, but it's muffled and monotonous and quiet and honestly just kind of off all round. Still better than them not speaking at all, right? Sort of? Maybe?? ]

[armoured]

[He's known Tim a long time at this point, even if he's been dead for a lot of it, and Al has seen Masky before. It's not something he understands, but he can appreciate that fighting against it in some regards won't be helpful.]

Then what should I call you?

[Gently and carefully does it.]

[maskintape]

[ EVEN MORE CONFUSING. They tilt their head to one side in a very Brianesque movement while they consider the options. How do people choose names? Is that a thing? Is Hollow Metal Child trying to do something sinister here??

Well. There is that one thing Tim calls them when he's talking about them to Jay. Maybe that would work? It seems like as good a choice as any. ]

...That creepy masked fucker.

[ You're welcome. ]

[armoured]

Oh.

[That's... a bit not good, and he's not going to call this version of Tim that even if he wants it.]

That doesn't seem very kind, would you like to be called something else?

[maskintape]

[ Huh. This name business really is difficult. And frustrating. Masky thoughtfully scrunches up the now-empty bag of pretzels, tosses it on the ground - LITTERING!! - and looks about as thoughtful as a weirdo in a mask can. ]

 

 

No.

[ And they just kind of. Stare. Blankly. WHAT A STUNNING CONVERSATIONALIST. IS AL REGRETTING HIS LIFE CHOICES YET ]

[armoured]

[Al regrets a lot of his life choices, but never ones that have to do with helping friends in need. Even if those friends are currently monosyllabic and wearing creepy masks.]

Okay.

[Okay. Now what? He thinks for a moment and then takes a seat a small distance away from Other Tim.]

You know, when you were gone I used to call you every few weeks. Just to tell you things, so you knew that you were being missed.

[maskintape]

Missed Tim?

[ The monotone makes it sound more like a statement than a question, and the ensuing silence could easily be interpreted as judgey, but oh well. What even are manners, anyway?? ]

Back soon. Maybe. Not gone.

[ He should be back soon, anyway. It's been much longer than usual, and Masky isn't really sure how to feel about that beyond uncomfortable. Being in control all the time would be almost as awful as being in control none of the time. There's supposed to be two of them! Anything else would be wrong and bad and oh dear they're getting kind of agitated now. Oops. ]

Soon.

[armoured]

Yeah, I hope so.

[He reaches out very carefully making sure to telegraph the move so that Tim can move away if he wants, aiming to touch him on the shoulder.]

Not that you're not nice, but I think it would be better if Tim did come back soon. Is there something we can do to help that?

[maskintape]

[ NNNNOPE. No touchy. They scoot a few feet away, chair leg at the ready just in case Al is insistent about it, and watch him warily for a few seconds. When Al fails to try and chase Masky down for Mandatory Touchy Shoulder Times, they relax pretty quickly and start digging around in their backpack.

It doesn't take long for them to pull out a tattered, heavily defaced Dick and Jane book. The cover shows the titular characters' faces crossed out and a tall, faceless stickman drawn behind them in black sharpie.

ART!!

Instead of answering verbally, Masky just kind of. Points at the spooky faceless person. An encounter with that guy usually ends in unconsciousness, and most of the time that brings Tim back! So. HEY BUDDY, SEEN ANY INTERNET CRYPTIDS LATELY?? ]

[armoured]

[That's horrendously creepy and Al just stares at the stick figure drawing for a few moments trying to figure out why it unnerves him so much.]

Are you saying that you've seen this guy? It's an anomaly here?

[maskintape]

[ They shake their head. Nope. Not an anomaly. Or here, even, as far as they know. Which is another thing to feel intensely uncomfortable about! They tap at the image once more - ]

Operator.

[ - before giving up on that line of thought and handing over the chair leg instead. Well. There are other ways to induce unconsciousness, right? Even to people who might happen to be suffering mild manic effects from MN poisoning. ]

Hit. Head, and then. Sleep.

[armoured]

What?!

[That drives the drawing right out of his mind, and he looks down at the chair leg in consternation and distress.]

I'm not going to hit you so you can sleep. Can't you sleep without that? Just close your eyes and try and relax.

[maskintape]

[ They just shake their head. NOPE. They've been trying, okay, and things just get kind of fidgety and it sort of sucks?

They nudge the chair leg closer to Al and tap their own head again. That's Maskylish for DO IT. DO IT DO IT DO IT. BLUDGEON THE HUSK OF YOUR FRIEND, BRO. JUST GIVE IT A WHACK. DO IT.

I mean it probably loses a little in translation, but what can you do. ]

[armoured]

I said no.

[He takes the chair leg and very firmly sets it out of the way, before pointing at the rather broken sofa in the corner of the room.]

Get on there and close your eyes, you'll be asleep in no time if you just try.

[maskintape]

[ Uh-oh. Is this what Brian warned them about? The empty child sure does seem to be trying to tell them what to do, so. It has to be, right?

NOT TODAY, AL. NOT TODAY.

Without any warning whatsoever, Masky launches themself at Al in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. Because surely that will get them what they want. SURELY. ]

 

 

[ why are they the way that they are, ]

[armoured]

[Damn it, Tim, this is NOT OKAY.

Al lets out a small yelp of surprise and then rallies quickly, pushing back against the tackle and trying to sweep his legs out from underneath him.]

Hey! what are you doing?! Quit it!

[maskintape]

[ Masky is scrappy, but Al is made of metal and an Absolute Unit and actually knows what he's doing, so. DOWN MASKY GOES. RIGHT ON THEIR ASS. At least this isn't being filmed and/or posted to youtube. Like, that's always a plus.

Despite the mask covering their face, they somehow manage to look sulky and put out for a moment before attempting a scrambledash towards the discarded chair leg. If Al won't thwap them over the head with it, they'll just do it themselves. GENIUS! ]

[armoured]

[NO! BAD FRIEND!

Al assumes that Tim is going for the chair leg to try and use it against him in the fight, not against himself, and so he's bracing for an attack that probably isn't even about to come.]

Stop it, we don't have to fight.