ⲓⲛⲃⲟⲭ: ⲁⲣⲟⲥⲁ𝓵ⲩⲣ𝛓ⲉ ⲏⲟⲱ

[stations]

𝕥𝕖𝕩𝕥 | 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 | 𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕝 | 𝕧𝕠𝕚𝕔𝕖𝕞𝕒𝕚𝕝 | 𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

Comments

text;

[retisense]

Hey man. It's Abby. We met in a bathroom.

How you holding up? Settling in okay?

[stations]

Hey, Abby

it's Jack

( he deletes that immediately — she texted you first, dumbass, obviously she knows who it is. jesus, he really needs to get his prescriptions set up here. )

I'm alright, considering
Why?
Everything okay?

( because the concept of anyone checking in on him just because is ??? )

[retisense]

Yeah, everything's fine with me. I mean, as fine as it can be. I was just checking in because no offense but you seemed pretty messed up when you showed up. So, you know. Are you less messed up now?

[stations]

Oh
Yeah that's fair
Things were kind of
weird
back home
I'd say my general baseline is significantly less messed up now

[retisense]

Seriously, no offense, I don't blame you if shit was weird and you looked like a mess, I can pretty much promise I've looked worse.

Glad you're less messed up though. I'm just trying to catch my breath. Are you used to this kind of thing? Weird otherworldly paranormal crap?

[stations]

Unfortunately, yeah, kind of way too used to it.
What about you?

[retisense]

Not used to it. I mean, I'm used to fucked up stuff, but not this kind of fucked up stuff.

Sorry man, it's rough.

un: strange

[sorser]

[Sometimes, just sometimes, he’s given reason to worry about the people he’s stumbled across in this world. Maybe it’s the second nature of a doctor reformed, or a sorcerer whose job essentially revolves around concern for the state of the universe. Either way, a message in the middle of the evening—]

Is this Jack? This is Stephen Strange, the man with the cloak.

[That should help.]

[stations]

( Pff, please, name one thing about their introduction that came off as worry-worthy, you can't, it can't be done, it was completely healthy and totally fine.

The good news is he's had a little time to level out and get his shit together, so that's nice.

The first text comes through: )

Oh, the sorcerer, right?

( Almost immediately after, a second: )

Sorry, wizard, I mean.

[sorser]

You were right the first time.

[Which he knows was absolutely purposeful.]

Good to see that your sense of humor is intact.

[stations]

haha yeah.

( It was definitely a joke and not just Jack's dying idiot brain having the memory of a concussed linebacker after the super bowl.

Fortunately it's easier to seem like you're not an awkward liar through text. )

Anyway, sorry, did you need something? Everything okay?

[sorser]

About as “okay” as things can be in this world, I guess. Nothing earth-shaking happening just yet, but give it another day or two.

I was actually just checking in with you. I know it’s not easy adapting to a new world altogether, and you were pretty shaken when we met. Hope that’s not too presumptuous of me.

[stations]

I hit you with a baseball bat, so I guess that's a pretty fair assessment.

Which, by the way, sorry about that again.

But yeah, I'm okay. This definitely isn't the weirdest thing I've seen, it just kind of happened at a really
Really
Really
I cannot emphasize this enough: Really
Bad time.

un: strange, beginning of December?? Time isn’t real

[sorser]

Jack, do you have a minute? I have your MRI results.

[stations]

Sure, I'm free.

Is this about to be a 'you have a weird brain' conversation? Because if so, don't stress yourself out trying to be nice about it or anything. I've had this conversation a bunch.

[sorser]

It’s not exactly that, no.

We can have this conversation in person, or here. Whatever you’re comfortable with.

[stations]

Here's fine I guess. What's up?

[sorser]

What you told me before, about your diagnosis of FFI, doesn’t exactly hold up with what the imaging is telling me.

[He isn’t sure if this counts as breaking the news too hard, for he also isn’t sure just how much of a universal truth Jack considers it in his own mind. So, Stephen opts for being frank — to the point.]

It does look like you have a sleep disorder, but one that impels sleep rather than deprives it.

[stations]

( It takes a solid ten minutes for him to reply. Expect a novel, a million questions, surely paragraphs of text will flow through-- )

what

( No comprende, senor Strange. )

text/action; ITS BRO TIME backdated to fanservice event

[murderology]

HEY JACKHAMMER GUESS WHAT WE'RE GONNA DO?

[ Quicker than Jack can send a message back asking "wtf", Jerry is already busting into their shared room with a sense of urgency — which is how he always enters the room, regardless if there even is an emergency or not. ]

Go on, guess!

[ Hanging off his shoulder is a strap, and attached to that strap is a sword. Yes, he did indeed manage to get one. Except...this one looks almost...homemade. Definitely far better than his sheet metal contraption, but part of the hilt and cross guard seems to have some buttons and switches. But that's not the important part! The important part is that Jerry has a sword ready which usually means shit is probably possibly going to go down.]

what is time, its a manmade construct

[stations]

( He literally hasn't even had time to pull up the swipey-keyboard on his phone. Which is fine, this is faster anyway.

There lies ya boi, sprawled out on his bed with a book on his chest, doing what he assumes was reading and not sleeping, which he... apparently does? That's still so fucking weird.

He clocks the excitement.
Clocks the sword.
Clocks the buttons, which — oh, god. )

Chop watermelons in half?

its a lie

[murderology]

Nope!

[ He pauses, considers Jack's answer after the fact, then corrects himself. ]

Well, yeah, totally at some point — but that's later! We're gonna investigate some — wait for it... [ He holds up an index finger, brows slowly climbing upward, mouth agape, waiting for this imagined perfect moment for the reveal. Probably a few seconds too long, just long enough to wonder if Jerry even remembers what he was going to— ] We're gonna be electricians!

[ He may have purposefully hyped that up knowing full well it sounds like the dullest thing you could do. But hey, he wants to help and he doesn't want to go alone. That's totally boring. That's the reason he drags anyone, namely Jack, around to do anything. ]

Don't know if you heard but long story short some decorative lights might be responsible for a string of unusual injuries and or death. So, pretty standard fare "some bullshit's going down in time for the holidays" type deal.

[stations]

( Why does he ever actually try guessing? Why does he ever think he could know the answer when Jerry asks that? Electricians — Jack just blinks, leaving Jerry plenty of time to jump into his explanation. )

That sounds... awful. Like a really, really bad idea. ( And yet, here he is putting his book down and slowly sitting up — hair all a-ruffle from the pillow like a disgruntled bird. It's for the conversation, he tells himself. He's just sitting up to be polite. ) Jerry, I don't know the first thing about— being an electrician. If I'm being totally honest, I only have like two percent of an idea of how electricity even works. Don't take a bubble bath with a toaster, and don't pee on an electric fence. That's it, that's the extent of my knowledge.

[murderology]

Correction— don't pee on an electric fence unless you're triple dog dared to.

[ Just thought he should clear that up. ]

Anyway, you don't have to know jack, Jack! Just stand there and look pretty and maybe let me know if you see anything freaky.

[ Jerry tops off his very reassuring assurance by further missing up Jack's already mussed up hair with a confident grin. Yeah, this is happening. They're doing this. ]

[stations]

( Ah yes, of course, the good old Triple Dog Dare clause. How could he have forgotten. Silly him. )

Well, that first part's definitely out. But I guess I can-

( What are you doing, Jack? Skrrt, backpedal. )

No, no. No. We're not getting involved. Every time we get involved in a thing, something happens. We're definitely, one hundred percent not doing this.

( Fast-forward half an hour, and there they are. Doing this. Getting involved. Did he just- did he black out that whole period of time, or did his mind do him the solid of glossing over it like a comedic jump-cut to save him the mental effort of a futile argument?

Does it matter? They're here now. )

Aw, damn it. Stupid... brain.