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Date: 2025-04-04 04:50 pm (UTC)
gutterbound: (024)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
[man how does he even get by without magic, what the hell. This is incredible. The rest of magic kinda sucks but the healing specifically is great.]

Yes, the worm.

[Waits out this explanation with tidy bites of his eggs and bacon.]

So you really don't have a choice but to run straight back. [Emotionshare is not thrilled. This sounds like a much bigger deal than she's making it out to be, especially considering the big ugly bastard in the memory.

What other choice was there gonna be? Everybody piles into one big Bed & Breakfast? Richie tries his best to squash the feeling, knowing it's gonna drift over whether he likes it or not. Fear, for her. A tragic little crack inching across his ticker, dreading the end. We'll always have Paris, as old Bogey once said. He pats at his mouth with his napkin and sorts his thoughts carefully.]


No chance there's a buddy here who can zap the little fucker out of your skull, huh?

Date: 2025-04-05 01:58 am (UTC)
gutterbound: (028)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
Oh — I hadn't considered that.

[a wee worm with a wee halo and chao...imagine we just had an ic profile for it the whole time]

So, what I'm hearing is that killing it off is very conditional on you continuing to have it. Is that right? [His mouth quirks. He keeps his tone light, even if his gut is very slowly sinking. He's weathered through testier conversations with women he's known longer, sure. Maybe not crazier ones. Maybe none that were literal life and death. But she's taking the lead on tone and he hopes he can keep matching it, no matter how much the idea of yet another damn thing infesting her mind scares him.

No matter how much it hurts to know he can't help now, and he can't help later. Not even if he knew how.

The last part gets him good though. Richie grimaces.]


...You know, I had a funny feeling about that. After our trip to the funhouse and all. [Didn't travel further down that road, but the implications were heavy-handed as could be.] You gotta. No question about it. You've got too many loose ends to tie up, baby, I only wish I could help put a knot in a few of them with you.

[He reaches across the table and takes her hand in his. Smiling, even if it hurts.]

Did you think of a way to skirt around the death trap they put you in? Let's start there.

cw: implied suicide

Date: 2025-04-05 02:47 am (UTC)
gutterbound: (057)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
[He blinks a little. He at least expected an answer first. Hold a moment, let him reroute.]

Ah — well. [His eyes flick down to their conjoined hands.] I think the simplest way to go about it is to make sure we've got as close to a full number as we can, without rewinding the clock back too far.

[No saving Stan, I don't think. Can't show up as a stranger on his doorstep begging him to put down the razor several days early. He'd just look crazy. Maybe push him quicker to it.

And there's a funny way the world kept twisting itself around them. All those coincidences, laid in place by whatever mildly gracious force guided them and by Pennywise himself. Derry would reorder itself so It might better its odds. Best to keep it simple. Best to keep the timeline tight.]


Which means I'll go back a few hours, at best. Stick it out with Mike at the library, so he doesn't get cut up like a Christmas turkey before he gets the chance to join the team. Maybe kill old Henry on the spot. Keep him from making it to the hotel in the first place.

[He feels a bit shameful, bringing up that detail again. But at least it's a detail she'd get, now. Could see the logic in, feel sound about his workaround.]

I mean, hell, if nothing else, at least now I've gotten some practice at it. Think I could grab a sword to go? I was quite handy with it last Thursday.

[For better or worse.]

Date: 2025-04-05 04:17 am (UTC)
gutterbound: (104)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
[Yeah, he's getting the sense she's about as pleased to hear of his plans as he is to hear of hers. To her credit he gets no impression that it's a lack of faith. Just watching someone treading a razor thin edge between happy endings and hell on earth.

His thumb brushes over her knuckles. Useless affirmations.]


I know. Ditto for me and your big bad mess, too. [For all the good he'd do her. As much fun as it's been learning about the wide wondrous universe, he imagines he'd be nothing but a liability as a tagalong. And perhaps a miserable, lonely one at that. Fish out of water in all the worst ways, same as she would be in his neighbourhood.

More than that, though, his gaze flicks away and his mouth goes a bit dry. He can't quite explain it, but he feels that he must. Might as well, if nothing else but to get it off his chest.]


It might not work, if anyone else comes. Things...as much as I wanted to believe It was the only unusual thing about my world, there was something else kicking around, I think. Something that...oh, I suppose gave us a little push. Spooky things that worked in our favour. Hand selected us, even.

[A beat.]

I remember if other kids came around to play with a few of us, they felt less there somehow. Less important. And there were tiny coincidences — little magic tricks we pulled off. But only when the moment was right. When something else flowed through you. Sometimes we just knew things. Said and did things that didn't make sense, but saved our asses.

Even when we left town and all the memories drained clean out of our heads, it's like we got moved around on a chessboard. All six of us that split became wealthy. Pursued things that tied us to those childhood obsessions that saved our necks back in the day, instead of picking up new hobbies. A few of us married but not a one of us had kids. And not for lack of trying. The scars we picked up back then faded to nothing. Then when we heard we should go back, they faded in again. Same as the memories.

...But if something was throwing us a bone from beyond, then Derry itself was trying to undercut it. People...things would arrange themselves to trap you, too. Isolate you. Make people look the other way, or get in your way if you were cutting too close to It.

[Richie tapers off, frowning.]

All that to say, I'm just not sure that bringing along a surprise guest wouldn't tip things too far one way or the other. It feels a lot like things got preordained. I just don't know by how or who.

Date: 2025-04-05 02:50 pm (UTC)
gutterbound: (105)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
[In spite of the grim situation, he can't help but be touched. It's never been a thing he could speak about with anyone outside their core. Only had mere days to reckon with as a grown man, before death took him out of it and showed him worlds worse and wilder than his own. He doesn't like putting his problems out for other people, especially when he can't define them himself.

Especially when they're practically peanuts compared to what happened to them. To her.]


Neither are you.

[She's been leashed worse than he has. Longer, with more lasting effects. And Richie's own folks hadn't been hurt by the things that lurk in Derry, while Shadowheart's were likely captive, maimed. She's lost damn near everything, and still she's here getting indignant on his behalf.]

But we gotta go play the part, don't we? It's not just our own lives on the line. [He lifts her hand then. Brings it to his lips for small kiss. For luck, maybe. For his nerves. It's not goodbye yet, but they're drifting towards by a matter of days.] If we could chuck a bomb long distance at the sons of bitches and skip off into the sunset, that'd be fine and dandy.

It's all just more complicated than that.
Edited Date: 2025-04-05 02:51 pm (UTC)

Date: 2025-04-06 04:52 pm (UTC)
gutterbound: (015)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
An arcanist? [It's clear he doesn't understand the full implications, but it's obviously some powerful sorcerer shit. Remains ignorant of class descriptions forever.

He chuckles at the thought.]


Sure. We'll be splitting pints and yucking it up over popping out of bloody balloons and giant boxes of chocolates every Thursday. I can see it crystal clear in my mind.

[It would be nice.

But if she's having doubts with firsthand exposure to the fellow, he's having more with secondhand anecdotes. It sounds lovely. A deus ex machina at the last minute, guaranteed to keep them connected. Maybe it'll be as she said, things will work out and they'll look like fools for crying about it. He just can't put all his eggs in that basket. Can't hope too hard and fall flat when she never shows. When no one does.]


Frankly my dear, I don't rightly know. [He purses his lips.] I guess I've come to a point where I feel we'll give it our all and whatever may happen, will. I hope there's a shot at it. Truly, I do.

I'm gonna miss you something fierce if not. [Always such a sap. It's been a matter of weeks in her company, even less for them deciding to make something of it. Knowing they'd be counting down the days. Flipping to the jubilant side of nihilism, as it were.] ...But even if this is all we get? I can't say I regret it. Not one bit.

Date: 2025-04-15 03:09 am (UTC)
gutterbound: (119)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
[He meets the kiss with maybe a bit more tenderness than is needed over a restaurant table. But this wasn't public the way a hot spot on the boulevard was, nor was it the regular clientele. They're the only ones here right now, and even if they weren't it's no secret they're all barrelling to a bitter end. Who'd begrudge them a bit of sentimentality over eggs benedict?

He smiles at the quip thereafter. Heartened but sad all the same.]


God, I hope so. I've had exes tell me quite the opposite.

[Since he got his blues out first. He kisses her again though, lightly, a bit selfishly.]

We're a bit stupid, weren't we? It's hard not to get attached, no matter what we did or didn't know.

Date: 2025-04-06 03:10 am (UTC)
gutterbound: (025)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
[GOD. YES. WE'VE SHOWERED, NO MORE GORE NO MORE SILLY OUTFITS. also ignores mine, time and space must make way for every CR to have chill vibes at endgame.

Or so we assume. Richie is also in loose clothing, sandals. Assigns them sat down on a blanket, something to drink and share between them. He tugs her in with an arm around her shoulder, cheek to her hair. Breathing soft and even.]


I think if they had ruled anything else there'd be a riot on their hands.

Date: 2025-04-06 05:36 am (UTC)
gutterbound: (035)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
No, it ain't. Fitting though, that hell is governed by a spiteful bitch.

[Harsh words for what looks like a teen girl. But he can't be assed to spare an ounce of sympathy for her. Two months of agony and loss all to amuse her sociopathic whims.

Fuck right off.]


I suppose there's little point worrying about the machinations in place here. Not our circus, not our monkeys. Not anymore.

Date: 2025-04-06 03:21 pm (UTC)
gutterbound: (104)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
Mm. No, you really can't.

[It does...tug at him, somewhat. Pull at a thread that he's not sure he's ready to unravel. Richie may have spent two months under direct sway of gods but it doesn't negate thirty-odd years of ditching the concept altogether. These were former mortals elevated to higher positions, not majestic Others, incomprehensible creatures. It's easier to understand why Gabriel might fold. Why their proverbial Satan is an immature ass. It's not easier to forgive, but it's easier to understand.

Shar and Selune, though. Those are like the gods of myth. Petty and callous but with ties to each other, loyalties and moods that extend beyond the grasp of mortals. Then there's whatever it was that guided his own hands, the fates of his friends, a force so unknowable they hesitanted to put a name to it. Its effects so faint and fickle that you were scared to draw attention to it at all. Those are gods he can't understand, and so can't forgive.

It's unfair. But at least this once, they do get something they've asked for.]


...Sorry, what? [She'd introduced the idea earlier, however.] He's blowing himself up?

[what da hael]

Date: 2025-04-15 03:22 am (UTC)
gutterbound: (118)
From: [personal profile] gutterbound
What is with your deities, Shady Lady? That's downright Old Testament.

[Perhaps not so far off his own myths and legends if he cared to consider them. But this fellow on the brink of detonation is far fresher news than say, Prometheus or Jonah.]

What's the alternative you've got in mind? I don't imagine you've got the business card of a stellar brain surgeon...

[If that were even an option. How does a brain parasite work? It's ghastly stuff, but he can't help that streak of morbid curiousity.]
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