IT'S TIME FOR THE...

[gabbie]

GODDAMN TEST DRIVE MEME

1. COMMENT WITH A JOURNAL OF A CHARACTER YOU'VE THOUGHT OF APPING AS THOUGH THEY'RE ALREADY IN CNC
2. TAG AROUND WITH NEW JOURNALS OR OLD!
3. APP THEM ALL NOW!
4. NOBODY IS EVER LATE EVER
5. LINK THIS POST TO ATP ADS YOU POST LATER
6. I STOLE THIS TEXT FROM LEAH

Comments

[retropolis]

[ Have a familiar face, although he's probably a lot more out of shape than Mothman is used to. Also: shocked. ]

Byron? When did they let you out?

[mothballed]

[Rude.]

Metropolis, you look -- uh -- much. Bigger. [Good save.] I mean --

Let me out from where?

[retropolis]

[ LOOKS DOWN SELF-CONSCIOUSLY... B( Nelson clears his throat. ]

Maine. You know... for your problems. I didn't hear there were any improvements.

[mothballed]

What problems? I don't live in Maine, remember, I moved to New York City, just a year ago.

[Sensitively:] Have you, uh, taken ill? Because you look -- I mean. No one told me you had, if that's the case.

[retropolis]

[ Dear God. ]

You've been in Maine for years now, and retired, don't tell me you've blocked all that out. Did you escape? Is that what--?

[ And, slightly perplexed: ]

Me? N-no, I'm fine.

[mothballed]

I don't understand what you're saying. Did something happen? [Pressing.] Between you and HJ? Is that why you're so flustered?

[retropolis]

[ Nelson's face gets more and more concerned as he wonders if Byron is completely delusional. ]

HJ is dead, h-he died years ago. [ He puts his hand on Byron's shoulder. ] I -- maybe we should get you inside, somewhere...

[mothballed]

[Stone cold beat.]




What? I mean, that -- that really can't be!



I just saw him an hour ago!

[retropolis]

[ Flatly, though still concerned: ]

That's impossible. He died back in 1955. [ Went missing, at least. ]

[mothballed]

[Just as flatly!!]

The year's date is 1940.

Or it was, before I came here.

[retropolis]

It's 1966.

[ If Hollis were here maybe he'd be nicer, but damn, this is annoying. Even if Byron does look oddly young. Actually pretty much exactly like how he looked in 1940... ]

You've been in a hospital, up in Maine. It was for your drinking problem at first, but-- [ He wrinkles his nose. ] Obviously -- I think we should try and get you inside.

[mothballed]

I don't have a drinking problem!

[It's a pre-flight fear inhibitor problem okay.]

[retropolis]

I'm not here to judge. I think you should sit down somewhere. I don't know why they'd have discharged you if -- you look great, but you don't even know what year it is.

[mothballed]

I know what year it is! [He looks around frantically. And catches sight of a digital clock heralding over Times Square.]

It's... 2012.

[retropolis]

It--

[ He turns to look where Byron is looking, and his face goes completely pale. ]

How can it be 2012?

[ He looks at Byron again. Now, he knows he can't catch crazy from someone, so... ]

I was wondering why it looked like a warzone.

[mothballed]

[WOW RUDE, NELLY]

Look.

[Byron puts a hand on his shoulder. Comforting Metropolis, or wiping crazy all over him??]

We'll figure this out, okay? I think there's some incongruity with our own temporal perspectives here, too.

Which might explain why you look like you're sixty.

[retropolis]

Right... of course we'll figure it out. Something is terribly wrong about all of this. I didn't see just how wrong, obviously... [ Now he's all out of sorts again, although he can spare a moment to say: ] I'm only fifty-four. You can't really be from 1940, can you?

[mothballed]

Nelly. We appear to be in an entirely different timeline shot right into the future, and you're wondering if I'm actually from your past or not?

[Byron couldn't express his entire incredulity in just one look.]

I mean really. Priorities.

[retropolis]

[ Nelson puts his hands on his hips. ]

I'd like to get each catastrophe sorted out one at a time, Byron. Quite a lot happened between 1940 and 1966, I'll have you know.

[ And knowing that Byron is capable of making rational decisions presently helps. ]

[mothballed]

Apparently so. But we need to look past that right now and get our bearings.

[Taking command of the guy with military training? He's two seconds away from nose pinching.]

[retropolis]

[ Nelson clears his throat and nods. ]

You're right. I'm sorry, I-I should calm down. It's 2012... we're in New York, from different years, and so far it's just the two of us. Unless anyone else turns up, I think we should stick together.