01 - I Believe in Second Chances

[imjustpicky]

[Evenings were coming earlier and getting colder in Onett, but that didn't stop Picky from taking his usual place on the hilltop. The meteor was long-gone, the crater partially filled in and covered with grass, but the place was still... important. He had made sandwiches, bologna with mustard on white bread, and taken them along. Three of them. One for him, two for...

The two always wound up being for him, too. But maybe...

So he ate his sandwich, and watched the sunset, and played with his Game Boy, and waited. When sunset became stars, he watched those, too. And when the temperature took a sudden drop, he pulled his hands into the sleeves of his sweater and wrapped a camping blanket around himself. Tonight... he had a really good feeling about tonight. Tonight, Pokey would come back, and he'd be really happy to have sandwiches waiting for him. Then he'd explain everything. And he'd say that he missed him. And he'd have his big brother back. And things would be better.

Under the sweater and blankets, Picky was warm and cozy and comfortable. Comfortable enough to eventually lie down, curl up, and drift off to sleep.]

---

[Locked to household at 7132 Brooks Lane, Morning]

[Picky isn't sure where he is when consciousness starts coming back to him. He's warm, and comfortable, and not outside in the grass all dew-soaked and chilled... which wasn't what he expected, once his thoughts began to gather.

Had someone come and taken him home...? But who would ever bother to do that?

He cracks one eye open, meaning to check the time on his alarm clock, but his alarm clock wasn't there. Or any of his other things. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't his room. Wakefulness is coming back to him, and how. He rubs his eyes, throws aside the blankets, and stumbles across the unfamiliar floor.]

H-hey...?

[The only conclusion he can come to is that he has been KIDNAPPED. Didn't they warn about this sort of stuff on that one day of the year when the police came to school and handed out pamphlets? They totally warned about this sort of stuff. But his kidnapper was dumb. His kidnapper had left a baseball bat in the room. Brandishing it, still in his jammies, he advanced into the household.]

[Phone - Morning]

[The voice on the phone is a whisper.]

Hey. Is this 911? The police? I'm... My name is Picky Minch. I've been kidnapped, and I'm being held hostage by... by really weird people.

They keep calling me "son". They're not my parents. It's creepy, it's really creepy.

[There's a sudden, sharp intake of breath, and then the voice becomes muffled as though someone is holding a hand over the receiver.]

Nothing... I'm not talking to anyone! B-breakfast? I'm... I'm not hungry!

[The line eventually un-muffles. The boy sighs.]

Can you hurry? They're trying to make me eat oatmeal. Yuck!

[Action A - School]

[Despite his protests, Picky's drone mother had handed him a lunch and a book bag and shooed him out the door to go to school. Experience had told him that it was almost always a bad idea to miss school... so even if this wasn't his town? And wasn't his school? What choice did he have but to attend?

So here's the new kid, sitting at his desk, looking slightly stunned. Or in the cafeteria at a table by himself, slightly stunned. Or in the playground off to one side, slightly stunned.

He's still not sure if this is actually happening.]

[Action B - Around Town, Afternoon]

[School is out, and there's this really strange town to explore. So Picky is off exploring it. He's peering in store windows, stepping on crunchy leaves with gusto, staring at the drones as they go about their business.... And shyly avoiding eye-contact with the people that act real-er. The bangs make it pretty easy.]

Comments

[phone][Filtered]

[godisachild.livejournal.com]

[Pokey was holding a cup of coffee when he heard this call on the phone.

That cup? Is now out of his hand and neatly smashed on the tile of the kitchen. For his part, Pokey hasn't bothered to move either. Just standing there in the kitchen. Dully. Not thinking.

He had wanted this. Since he'd gotten here, he'd wanted Picky to show up, hadn't he?

At first he had. As time had gone on, as he'd cared about more people and lost them, had seen how dangerous it was...the more and more he hoped his little brother would never show up.

But now here they were. He was here.

It takes Pokey a moment more before he moves over to the phone and filters the call.]

Shut up Picky. Shut up right now. Don't say another word about who you are to anyone.

[phone][Filtered]

[imjustpicky]

...Pokey?

[That's his brother. That's Pokey. It couldn't be anyone else, not with shouting like that.]

Pokey! It's you! IT'S YOU!

[He had waited and waited and waited and sometimes he had doubted but finally his brother was back, and...]

...w-what? What do you mean?

[More joy wants to erupt from him, but he's tamping it back down, and quickly. This isn't the kind of reunion he had imagined. Something feels wrong about it all.]

B-but I don't know where I am! And you're here? But.. you left, a-and...

[phone][Filtered]

[godisachild.livejournal.com]

No. Quit it.

[Do you hear it Picky? Underneath the usual irritation and grumpiness, there's a trace of fear there. He wants you here, and he doesn't. God. What is he going to do.]

This place is super dangerous. You got it. You can't let anyone know you know me.

[A pause as Pokey breathes lightly, trying to collect himself.]

Alright. I want you to find some mail or go outside and tell me the address. Can you do that, Picky? Find the address for the house you're in.

School

[birthclod.livejournal.com]

[School has normally been uneventful for Clod. She came, listened to the usual litany of national pride and enmity for those dirty Communists, and left with homework that she would often neglect to do. It just wasn't all that fun to her and therefore, not worth doing.

It's lunch time now and the little green girl took her tray and started finding a place to sit. Anyplace will do. Even...

... Hey. Is that... is that her brother? In the distance is a boy who looks similar to Pokey except that he didn't quite have as much volume. Their hairstyle and color seemed to match almost exactly. Clod walks over with her tray to where the boy is sitting alone and sets it there without so much as permission.]

... Yeah, right, there was no way you could be Pokey.

[imjustpicky]

[Picky briefly looked to the girl when she came to the table, then quickly turned his attentions back to his peanut butter sandwich. He had to be careful, that's what Pokey said, or...]

W-what?

[Snap. His head came right back around again, moving with enough speed to momentarily blow the hair from his eyes. Someone was recognizing him already.]

...who?

[birthclod.livejournal.com]

[He seems confused. Well, that's natural when some stranger comes up to you and starts saying what very well might be cryptic statements. But Clod couldn't care less. No, instead, she'll just be sitting right near Picky.]

You looked like family. So, what's your name?

Around Town

[luxury-banana.livejournal.com]

[It's around the afternoon and the haunted house team is running low on supplies. Already. They're running out fairly quickly all things considered and Fassad takes his car out over to the tool shop from 502 Ricardo. He grumbles a little as he wonders why he has to be the one to fetch what the group needs.

What is he? A monkey?

Along the way, he sees... a kid just crossing the street. He seems to be looking around as he's walking which is only making things slower for him. Well, Fassad knows how to fix that.]

HOOONK! HOOOOONK!

Around Town

[imjustpicky]

WAAAH!!!

[Picky was no longer lost in his own absent thoughts. The blaring of the car's horn brought him right back into reality, and it brought some serious motion and energy to his legs. He shot off like a bolt, and was across the street in no time.

And then he was turning around to gape at just who or what almost hit him.]

Re: Around Town

[luxury-banana.livejournal.com]

[Fassad will just keep on honking to get your attention. What, he already has your attention? Too bad, here's more noise pollution.]

Next time get out of the street faster! Some of us have places to go to! Important places!

Action B

[hardhat-truckie.livejournal.com]

(Engie's just coming out of the bakery with some bread that Dr Doof had just made, when he accidentally bumps into a boy in front of him.)

Sorry there son, didn't mean ta bump into ya like that. Y'all alright there?

Action B

[imjustpicky]

[One leaf goes crunch, another goes crunch, and another...]

Ah..!

[After bumping into the man, he stumbles back quickly, hands up with flat palms.]

Sorry! I'm sorry!

I-I'm fine.

[Was that a real person? Or one of the drones? Picky peered up at the man from behind his bangs, cautious and unsure.]

[hardhat-truckie.livejournal.com]

(Engie frowned slightly. The boy didn't seem fine at all. Without hesitating, he took one of the loaves of bread he had just bought and passed it to the kid, a friendly smile on his face)

You don't look too good. Here, have some bread; it's hot and fresh outta the oven.

B

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[Lucas is in the park doodling in his notebook and doing nothing in particular when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. He half-turns. And stares.

His first thought is a Porky-bot, but the person was too thin. His next thought was some kind of deaging machine having gotten Pokey, but again. Too thin. ..............What was going on?

Picky may eventually notice the blonde boy staring in some measure of confusion and trace amounts of horror.]

B

[imjustpicky]

[As far as parks go, it's not a bad park. There's space to run, there's playground equipment and it's in good repair... and he makes sure to test this by climbing all over it at least once.

But only once. It's not that exciting.

By the time he has made his way to the swings, he notices that someone has an eye on him. And that someone looks way too freaked out to be one of the drones.]

Uh...

[It may be well-nigh impossible to find his eyes under all those bangs, but Picky's making eye contact with Lucas on his end.]

[a-gentle-boy.livejournal.com]

[stare. stare. stare. staaaaaaaaare.... wait was he staring back? Lucas breaks his gaze and shakes his head.]

O-Oh! I'm... sorry. You just... You look a lot like...

( phone )

[pokeay.livejournal.com]

What's wrong with oatmeal? [ ... and on a more important note. ] Ah, anyways - you're new to Mayfield, right?

( phone )

[imjustpicky]

It's gross! It's sticky and it makes me gag!

[And then he makes some gagging noises into the phone to demonstrate. Hooray for being 8.]

...a-and, yeah. I'm new to Mayfield. Though the family in my house keep saying I've always lived here.

That's pretty weird.

phone;

[timetables.livejournal.com]

I've seen this before. You'll be okay, just follow my instructions. First off don't eat the oatmeal. It's been poisoned.

Re: phone;

[imjustpicky]

[Oh no.

OH NO. He had ALWAYS SUSPECTED THIS.]

I won't! I totally won't eat the oatmeal!

[Why shouldn't he trust the voice on the phone? It was trying to be helpful!]

What else should I know? What else?

B

[ofoz.livejournal.com]

Looking for something?

B

[imjustpicky]

[Picky startles and steps back when Ozma addresses him. He had been watching her, sure at first that she was one of the drones. Oops.]

N-no! Just... just watching things. People. Just watching people.

B

[bestwishes]

[If Picky is to pass by the park this afternoon, he may come across a large bird fighting with a flaming monkey.]

B - I went and drew an icon JUST FOR THIS

[imjustpicky]

[Yup. That is indeed a large bird fighting with a flaming monkey.

HOLY COW.

This is SO FREAKIN' COOL.

However, Picky is bad at verbalizing these things, and is currently standing there, jaw slack, watching this giant bird vs. fire monkey showdown with awe.]

Phone

[flameyedhunter.livejournal.com]

.... Wait... your name is Picky Minch?

Phone

[imjustpicky]

[Uh oh. Pokey had already told him to not mention his name. There's some incoherent stammering on the line.]

N-no!

[And then? Blatant lies.]