Voice // Nobody's real, everyone go home

[espio]

[Okay so. After wandering around aimlessly for several hours, paying attention to such things as pamphlets and holograms, Espio has decided that this is clearly not a third strange reality he has been tossed into and instead come to the conclusion that unreality is a thing again. ... well, shit.

At least his memory seems correct this time - correct enough for him to realise the place was wrong, anyway. That almost qualifies as a plus! It means he can appreciate the goodness of temporarily having things like hot showers and electricity while he remembered he'd lived for a year without.

Unfortunately, it seems that his nice little self-powered smartphone has been replaced by a clunkier walkie-talkie thing that doesn't even do him the decency of having everyone's contact details. How the hell does one get hold of their favourite idiots like this? Network post?

...network post. By voice!]

Well, I'm lost. And not a soul I know out there, looks like. Unless everyone's just spread out, which'd be just typical.

Has anyone seen Dominic? Or Monty? Or someone else useful?

... this does actually connect to something, I hope...

Comments

[fierybluebird]

"Oh," Marco blinked, letting it sink in. "So this all must seem like an illusion to you," he frowned.

He wanted to pick Espio up and carry him around to show him it was real, and Espio was safe now -- and he didn't know where to begin.

Fuck it.

He picked Espio up to put on his shoulders before remembering the chameleon was no longer a short three foot physical chameleon. "Oh hey, are you stuck like this or can you change back?" It hadn't been that long without Namur and Thatch, though it had been years since he was without the rest of Marco's giant brothers, but still, he suddenly felt small again. All the Minks had always been large, but Espio being so much conveniently smaller was something he hadn't even realized he was taking for granted.

"Either way, I'm going to figure out how to prove to you it's not that place. Not that time. Not my world either, obviously, but still different."

He missed Toby again. Like a weight that was always there and always ignored, but suddenly crushing on his chest in a way he couldn't just pretend away.

Toby was never happy anywhere else but with Marco and Grell and the Garden. Though he'd sent him to a pocket of time to keep him safe until Marco could unlock how to keep everyone safe and together better -- clearly something he hadn't mastered given all that Espio went through.

Still, illusions and doubting the very fabric of reality, was something Marco understood all too well. Sometimes it was easy to just go along with it, but usually his phoenix temper meant he wanted to destroy it just to see what was firm. Which also reminded him of his Pops. But then everything reminded Marco of his Pops.

Still, the only way to snap out of it was what...?

What had convinced him that Thatch was really there at the Garden? It wasn't the smell, memories, familiarity...

No, it'd been the growth. The surprises. That Thatch was suddenly afraid to fly with Marco, the biggest slap in his face he could remember...

But he hadn't done much being here.

"Grell got an apartment that's all robots and high tech. It drives me crazy. It's four thousand flights up," that sounded unrealistic, and Marco wasn't even sure it wasn't exaggerated but -- "So it takes an elevator to get to," which all but caused him panic attacks unless he closed his eyes and hid in her shoulder. "I work at a bar, it's familiar." Oh and he... smuggled and kept books on bets and all sorts of illegal things that Espio would very much NOT APPROVE OF justice blargh blargh. "And Grell does computers again, because of course she does." Marco rolled his eyes. "Also bounty hunting." Which meant he had to NOT get caught and get a bounty, because wife or not, he had the vaguest suspicion his wife might turn him in for a joke. "And Ace... I don't even know what he does. Break laws and fish and hunt wherever he damn well feels like I expect."

Marco rubbed his chin.

"I can't convince him I'm 9 years in the future from him either. So I guess you can both think this is just some crazy illusion island together."

He reached up to lightly rub Espio's head, still walking -- the tea he'd ordered, completely ignored. "Did I ever tell you I think you're pretty strong? I lose one or two people and I feel like my reality's crashed. Your actual reality crashes, more than once, and you keep on surviving." He wanted to give Espio something more reassuring. Something reality-grounding, but he didn't have anything like that. He wished he had the Stetson he'd gotten Espio ages ago. He reached into his wallet and pulled out the picture Toby had drawn him of Espio, his Pops, and his brothers respectively.

"Nam-chan doesn't think Toby has any grit... or even just enough mentally, where it counts. But you're all steel, mate. Even Jozu breaks easier than you."

[espio]

He never said that! He might have implied it a little, but he was quite sure he hadn't. Espio shifted away as Marco went to pick him up, motioning that he'd follow if Marco was gonna just abandon his tea. While Marco picking him up was something worryingly normal (or at least was back when he was less than four foot tall)... yeah. Espio still wasn't convinced, and it was all a little uncomfortable right now. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach and it made him feel ill.

"Stuck like this," he answered plainly, as he followed along. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do in this stupid place, and the people he wanted to meet just plain weren't here. Grell and Ace didn't count, because they weren't really here either.

However, whether he felt Marco was an illusion or not, he still listened to everything he said, even if his sights were set firmly on the ground. It really did sound like Marco... but there were a few too many things that were just off.

"I survive because I latch onto people," he said, because that was just it, wasn't it? He relied on others to drag him back up when he crashed. "It's not strength."

[fierybluebird]

Marco laughed at that. "That's definitely strength. My Pops latched onto people and he was the strongest that ever lived. Ace makes people latch onto him and then he's strong, and he's his weakest when he pushes them all away. His little brother latches onto people, and he's going to be the next pirate king. No, it's a lot harder to refuse people. It takes a lot of strength to keep going even when people are lost." His blue eyes dimmed slightly, looking down, as he carried Espio around anyway: like a backpack, or a messenger bag really.

He was better at withdrawing, but that was how people faded away, gave up, got lost.

"Doesn't matter what Namur thinks, whether you never sailed with the rest or knew Pops, you'd fit in with all of them, better than any of the others will ever know. I wish I had your hat." He'll have to get him a new one. And maybe he'll just make it a regular Whitebeard mark like the first time. Fuck what the rest of his brothers thought of it, if they were here they'd get it.

[espio]

Was the carrying completely necessary? It was true that Espio had kind of given up fighting Marco over it too much, after years of being picked up and carried around here there and everywhere, but... really?

Sigh.

"You're overestimating me," Espio insisted, in what he hoped was a 'final' tone of voice. "I'd've been useless."

[fierybluebird]

Marco just chuckled again, "Yeah right. Useless my feathery ass. The only problem we'd have had with you is how uptight you've always been."

[espio]

That actually managed to get a small snort of amusement out of Espio. "Yeah, right. Take it I didn't mention the only way to cement your existence in this place, then - that's a quick way to stop being uptight."

[fierybluebird]

"Oh?" Marco arched an eyebrow warily. He had that weird lurching almost-guilt feeling again for some reason.

[espio]

"The theory is something like..." Espio paused for a moment, trying to make sense out of it. "Something like 'to solidify your existence in a damaged reality, you have to connect with other people.' Try and guess what it means in practice."

[fierybluebird]

"Making friends?" Marco rubbed his face, remembering how difficult that had been just his first few months at the Garden. All he'd wanted to do was fix Ace's addled brains and drag him home and somehow keep him alive at that.

Obviously it didn't work.

[espio]

And that got an actual laugh, albeit a dry one. "Yeah... no. It means 'have sex'. Lots of it. Preferably with as many different people as possible."

Espio still didn't like to talk about it, but he had learned the best way for him to explain it without getting too worked up about it was to be as direct and blunt as possible, with an emphasis on how ridiculous the situation was.

"And that goes on the list of things Grell must never find out about."

[fierybluebird]

Marco blanched.

"Agreed," he said, completely deadpan like he wasn't affected or fazed whatsoever.

But ahahahahaa.....

His hand went to the wedding ring on the opposite hand. Was that why he'd failed? That distinct feeling he'd tried and yet...

"Sounds like Thatch would be good at that."

No he wouldn't, but bad jokes were what Marco did even when he wasn't uncomfortable or pretending not to be fazed.

"So then those others you met..." Well.

That was.... a thing.

Well...

At least they clearly weren't replacements????

.... orz

"You said you met Ace there?"

His throat felt tight and he went to try to loosen a tie or necklace that wasn't even there. The imaginary noose.

"Ah... don't... give me details." Even Marco the eternal shipper had a line. WHO KNEW?!

"Are you okay... I mean aside from being a bit shook up..." Mentally and emotionally. But Marco felt like he was looking at wounds he just wanted to heal. And then murder the culprits. Reality? Well, he always had wanted to hurt the fabric of reality, but didn't Espio say that was what had caused so much of the problem?

[espio]

Espio noted the hesitance, as subtle as it was. It was difficult to tell just what Marco was thinking, but he could tell he was unsettled. A detail an illusion might not slip in, but Espio couldn't be sure about that.

"Yeah, Ace was there for all of five seconds before up and vanishing," Espio answered, slumping a little. Monty kept a list of who came and who went, and when you looked at the number of disappearances it was disturbing. The exact cause was unknown - many people, they knew full well had been meeting the 'requirements'. For Espio, he assumed it was reality twisting, similar to the time distortion in Balamb. "And sure, I'm fine. It's not like I've been living in a sex obsessed post-apocalyptic pile of rubble or anything. And it's not been cold or wet, either."

[fierybluebird]

"I see," Marco frowned again, thinking hard. The Ace threads seemed everywhere, but they were the hardest to hold onto, just like fire themselves.

He gently patted Espio's head. "Cold, huh? That's terrible. I wonder if that's why you got stuck like this?" Well... probably the sex thing if he thought about it, but he really didn't want to--

Marco laughed suddenly, and put a hand to his face. "I just had the worst mental image of Ace asking you to do lizard things with your tongue." That's what he got for remembering the time they'd been planning to have a bug-eating contest and Grell almost divorced him on the spot.

"Wait so you don't have the tattoo of the Chaotix Crew either anymore?"

He didn't know why that bugged him, but it did, somehow. Like he wanted to stamp it back onto Espio's arm for justice or something.

[espio]

If Grell knew what happened the last time Espio snacked on the local bug population, she would want to eat them too. Espio, however, was not impressed.

"Nah, it's still there," Espio said, tilting his head slightly. But actually, this time it's just my shape that's different. It's not like that potion - I can do everything I could do as a chameleon." And he had all the weaknesses, as well. "I can't make sense of it either, but very few things do make sense."

He felt like pointing out that the fact his tongue was still sticky had some advantages in a sex-driven environment, but it seemed like a terrible and cruel idea to change Marco's mental images like that.

[fierybluebird]

"Oh..."

Too late Espio, as soon as you mentioned still doing everything as a chameleon...

"Ace didn't ask you to do tongue things, did he?"

Does he even want to know the answer?

Really he's not sure.

[espio]

That is none of Marco's business.

Besides Espio was quite sure he didn't actually want to know. And he'd say so, too. "You don't want to know," he pointed out, with a shrug. "That or any other details."

[fierybluebird]

Congratulations, Espio.

Marco just collapsed into the middle of the street with both hands over his face, trying not to cry or claw them out.

THIS IS YOUR CAPTAIN.

LOOK AT YOUR LIFE.

LOOK AT YOUR CHOICES.

DO YOU FEEL REGRET YET?

[espio]

Not in the slightest, but he was a little pissed off that Marco decided to drop to the floor while still carrying him. Thanks for that.

Espio pushed himself up, dusted himself off, and rolled his eyes. Honestly, was that necessary. "Or maybe you do want to know?" he wondered aloud. "I mean I lived opposite you and Grell for ages, got to hear a lot of shit, so I suppose I could tell you..."

[fierybluebird]

Nope.

Welcome to Marco's childish mode. The two things that will shut him down: Babies and his Pops and sex things with either.

He plugs his ears and firmly shouts "LALALALALALALALA NOT LISTENING!"

He's the captain you know. Think about that.

[espio]

Holy shit Marco! Why do they put up with you?!

"I swear, I will kick you. Get up!"

1/2

[fierybluebird]

This does not prompt Marco to obey and get up.

It does however prompt movement.

Unfortunately, that movement is in a spiral around on the ground.

You put up with him because you love him and he would melt the universe for you, obviously.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH that means you DID and he DID and YOU DID and NOOOOOO!"

2/2

[fierybluebird]

But then without warning, he does get up...

Only to grab Espio around the neck and shoulders in one arm and noogie him with his free hand and knuckles.

"New rule, you're not allowed to do any of that stuff here for a living. You have to get a job. Something you'll enjoy. And you have to try to be a good influence on Ace. And we'll never ever ever let Grell find out any of that." Especially the part about Ace. Or sex. Or any of it.

Because hey, if you're going to be a tyrant, you might as well go all out and demand the utter impossible.

[espio]

"Actually, I meant you, yourself, honestly don't want to know, which you're kinda proving -" Espio tries to explain, before Marco finally does get up and starts making demands. Why yes, he's going to be an 'influence' on Ace (or so he hopes). Why no, he is not going to tell Grell.

And... Marco. Marco.

With an exasperated groan as he tries to wriggle free, Espio reaches up to pat Marco's arm. "Don't worry," he said, "I have no intention of going into prostitution." Seriously, was that an actual concern?

[fierybluebird]

And then Marco just starts crying a little in the most manly way ever that only Vista and Thatch would ever understand because they too were manly men like whoa, but perfectly in touch with their hair and emotions.

Shhh.

"Ahhhhhhh don't even say things like that!"

No, he hadn't thought Espio would be a prostitute, but any kind of sex-work would fuck with his already scrambled egg brain even more. Also, he'd never be able to keep that from Grell. She'd know.

"You can even justice bounty hunt if you want...." Wibble face.

Seriously, this is why Marco is Toby's dad.

They both fail in almost exactly the same ways. And opposite at the same time.

Except Toby was slightly healthier mentally/socially/emotional in the ways Marco wasn't. And vice versa. It worked. Like Marco and his Pops.

[espio]

Just because Espio had been trapped in the sex apocalypse didn't mean he'd slept with every single person there. He actually mostly stuck to the same two, and would have been happy to stick with one if it weren't for the tiny detail of that losing effectiveness over time. He... hadn't adapted well.

"Bounty hunting sounds more realistic," he agreed, though he was a little unsure about that. For some reason he'd always pictured bounty hunters as being rather more ruthless than heroes, even if they did both fight criminals.