victory_road | Great googly moogly, it's all gone to [extremely loud incorrect buzzer]

"Yeah, well...I watched you make it often enough. And it's good."

He sounds very pleased that Henry noticed. That said, Envy absolutely wants sugar and milk in his. He has absolutely no idea what's going through Scar's head as he stares at the man just drinking the entire scalding cup like a shot.

He wonders if he maybe should have mentioned what kind of tea this was.

Nah.

A few minutes after his own first sips, that pleasant floating feeling is starting to creep in and soften the edges of all the tangled knots of feelings, make them more manageable. The shock of it all can settle in. Figuring out how to call Lust and deliver the news certainly feels less nerve-wracking. He glances down, patting at his pockets for his 'Gear. Did he remember to grab it on his way down?

Henry watches Scar down that Tea and opens his mouth to say something. But then he doesn't. It's fine. It'll be fine. He's a big guy!

He sips his tea and eventually his shoulders relax. The familiar floaty feeling returns to him, like it never left. He's safe. He's home. He's surrounded by friends. He can go back to his job and the occasional adventure. Speaking of adventure...

"I decided I'm going to try the Gym challenge. It's just not something I thought about when I was here before. My Pokemon have always been my pets, but...I know they'd be happier if they were battling and growing."

Heather also watches Scar take the literally boiling tea in a single drag.

Like the others, she does not comment on it.

She does, however, put another GIANT dollop of honey in hers, and takes a larger-than-wise gulp of it, herself. The sooner it kicks in, the better.

"That's great, Henry," she croaks after the brief coughing fit that follows this action. It's fully sincere, but distracted-- and she feels kind of bad about that. She wants to be completely present for this moment, this rare moment that she's gotten someone back-- just in case he gets taken away again, because it's happened before, SO many more times than once, and she wouldn't freaking put it past this place. This world is fickle, it's given her so much but it likes to yank the rug out from under her feet just as much. "If you need help training, or-- or the scoop on any Gym Leaders in particular-- I got your back. Havin' the badges is a real ego boost too, honestly--"

Then the doorbell rings.

"PIZZA."

She clonks her teacup down on the counter and vanishes past Envy and Scar into the hall to go get the door.

Scar isn't doing anything to bring himself into the conversation. In fact, he isn't doing much of anything at all. He stares down into his empty tea cup with the same frown that's been plastered on his forehead since he took up his post here.

Henry talks about his plans, Heather scampers for the door to grab the delivery, and Scar... stares at the bottom of his cup.

"Hm."

"Yeah, we can help out with training once you've gotten your guys back. I'm sure some of them'd probably like it..."

He trails off as Heather makes a beeline for the door. He's reached into the same pocket to check for a 'Gear that isn't there at least three times, but her shout breaks the absent loop long enough for him to realize that no, it's still upstairs. Probably playing the credits of the movie into the floor. He groans.

"Hang on, I'll be back. But we should go sit on the couch to eat before we wind up on the floor."

Especially Mr. Shots Shots Shots over in the corner.

BUT OFF HE GOES, hurrying up the stairs, grabbing the 'Gear off the floor, and heading back down. He holds it up as he approaches.

"Found it!"

The Lust contact device!

"Thanks...I'll need all the help I can get. I've never been to Kanto. I need to get a Pokemon I can ride on before I go."

The thought of more traveling makes him weak in the knees. But the smell of the pizza wafting from the door gives him strength.

"Right!" Henry makes his way to the couch and sits down in the middle so he can have his friends on either side of him. "Where's the Ogre Hut? Do you guys still have it?"

There's some muffled speaking from the doorway as Heather pays the deliveryman (or deliverymon), and then she shows back up in the kitchen entrance with a small stack of flat boxes. Because yeah, she ordered a stack. There's more people here at once than there has been in years, and also, The Tea (tm).

"We are gonna sit in the living room!"

What Envy just said, basically, but blunter. It's starting to kick in and she wants everybody to sit down and stop... looming.

She only answers Henry's question once she's plopped the pizzas down on the coffee table.

"--Oh fuck, yeah, of course we have it-- like we'd ever throw it out. It's--- um, in a closet somewhere."

Halfway through sitting down, she realizes she forgot her tea in the kitchen. So she ambles back in there to get it-- and if Scar and his empty mug haven't moved from their spot yet, she repeats: "We are gonna sit in the living room," in that same kind of dissociated way.

It's hitting her.

...before we wind up on the floor.

The phrase echoes around in Scar’s head when Heather comes and goes. He pushes off from the wall of the kitchen and feels... heavy?

From the kitchen, too quiet to be intended for everyone's ears but still audible:

"I don't want to be intoxicated right now."

Scar rounds the corner from the kitchen hallway looking like he's seen a ghost. Not the fun sexy one. He stares at the wretched device in Envy's hand. The one that calls the sexy ghost.

Barely more than a whisper, he poses a question that is anything but stated like one:

"Why would I want to be intoxicated right now."

What in the goddamn is an Ogre Hut.

It's hitting Envy for sure, because he actually puts a hand out to very lightly nudge Scar in the direction of the nearest living room chair as he passes by.

"Not intoxicated. It's not alcohol. It's...relaxed."

He's not dealing with whatever the hell happens when he calls Lust without a substance being involved.

When he reaches the couch he sits right down next to Henry, very heavily. Envy has never sat on a couch in a normal position before and he's not going to start now, leaning back into the cushion and pulling his feet up to sit crosslegged. Watch out for those bony knees, Henry, this is the price to pay for sitting in the middle.

"Okay. I'm calling her. I think...I think she's off work now?"

He takes one more large swig of his tea. Twists in his seat so that neither Henry or Scar would be potentially visible before he has a chance to say anything, holding the camera closer to his face than necessary. DIALING NOW...

"Lust. Lust. Lust. Pick up. You are never going to guess what is happening. This is so important."

Edited 2023-08-18 06:39 (UTC)

Through the fog, Henry hears the words of his new friend. He turns and looks at him, his eyes peer into Scar's eyes and he blinks.

"No, it's fine. It's just going to take the edge off, like a Benadryl."

He will apologize later, but right now he's Relaxing and trying not to think about God's screaming bald head emerging from the wall and ten foot tall belching statue women and that Bidoof with the upside down face. Wait. That wasn't the Otherworld, that was here.

Henry sips his tea, content that they could find the Ogre Hut later once everyone is settled in.

It most certainly is intoxicated, and it isn't like anything Scar has ever experienced. Moving is like striding through water. Thoughts trickle in through fog.

Then Envy pops his 'gear screen on to make a video call, and Scar bolts.

Making a call means using the telephone. It most certainly does not mean the instant film function he still can't pretend to understand, and it doesn't mean projecting its sound through the living room for all to hear.

Thus, Scar ends up in the kitchen, snapping the microwave open, then shut, and pushing defrost turkey.

And he doesn't hear a peep from the phone speaker one room over. Just as God intended.

Heather had started to sit down for the second time when Scar's frankly-horrified-sounding voice registers to her, and a wave of simultaneous realization and guilt cuts through the daze of the drug-- because yeah, it's a drug, they all knew it was a drug, and for some reason... she hadn't realized Scar didn't.

It had always been common knowledge in the house... but Scar had never quite been part of the house the same way they had.

Oh, hell...

Scar's already turned right back around and booked it into the kitchen by the time Envy's cry of "Heather, stop him!" hits her.

"Scar, wait--!"

He'd taken the entire cup of tea in ONE GULP and she's only ever tried it (or seen Henry and Envy) sipped over a long period of time. It's probably hitting him like a brick. He needs something that isn't that tea in his system. She stops and does a quick 180 back to the coffee table to grab the box with the cheese pizza in it-- and, a little ruefully, drops a hand onto Henry's head to give his hair a distracted but affectionate muss on her way past.

She'd really rather be spending time reuniting with her long-lost adopted brother than corralling a frightened and unpredictable home-intruder, but at least she knows Henry will still be there later.

He'd better still be there later.

"Scar, it'll feel less intense if you eat something. Eat some pizza."

SHE IS HOLDING OUT THE BOX.

Hello, Heather, welcome to Scar's Kitchen Haven. He has rapidly gone from having a pretty emotional time to having a pretty emotional time while having his first (and only) berry trip.

He turns away from the microwave, eyes sliding into focus on the pizza box that's been thrust into view by the tiny one who deeply dislikes him. He isn't naive. He knows how drugs work. He knows Heather is right. He also knows that he's fairly large, so it shouldn't be so awful for so long, but...

"Why would I want to be intoxicated right now?"

The question is horribly earnest, just like most other things Scar does, even if his stern delivery and general demeanor do an excellent job of masking it.

He takes the damn pizza box, though, prying it open to inspect the slop of bread and sauce and cheese that he has managed to avoid, until this moment.

Heather doesn't... wilt, exactly, but she does cringe.

"I thought you knew."

It's a DUMB answer, she realizes now, but... well, A WHOLE LOT HAD JUST HAPPENED IN A VERY SHORT SPAN OF TIME, and the obvious sincerely had not occurred to her.

"It's Henry's special... blend. It's like his whole thing. And everything is kind of all happening at the same time. Sorry."

A white woman has said 'Sorry' to Scar. Is this a first?

She lets him take the box-- it's not fancy pizza, but it's decent enough. Being Aurora Leaguers, she and Envy can afford the stuff that at least won't dump its toppings all over the floor when you try to pick up a slice.

Scar's only response to Heather's explanation is a tiny shake of his head, eyes darting to the corners of the ceiling in a in what world would I have just known that gesture.

He pulls a slice gradually from the box, gaze darting between it and Heather one last time before he maneuvers the end into his mouth, brow still furrowed as he calculates the ideal angle of entry in real time.

God, he feels like he's about to sink through the floor.

Perhaps that would be preferable, at the moment.

If she arrives, and he is still like this, Envy is going out the same window Scar came in.

Alas, he cannot sink through the floor. He is, however, welcome to slide down to it if he wants to sit. Which, honestly, he probably should. But he hadn't listened to WE ARE GONNA SIT IN THE LIVING ROOM, so Heather has no reason to believe that he'll listen to anything else she says.

She's just happy that he's eating the pizza.

While he's doing that, she'll go ahead and say something else that's occurred to her.

"Thank you for helping Henry. He's..." KIND OF HOPELESS SOMETIMES? "He's never been much of an outdoorsman. ... And he doesn't trust people easily, so..."

She trails off there, the Persim zest obscuring the words she's looking for. But she'd watched her skittish Silent Hill survivor brother waltz over to Scar and help him up as though they'd known each other for years, and given everything she knows Henry's been through...

It just says a lot.

The distraction of Henry is a miracle in a comedy of errors. Scar's brow is still furrowed, eyes as alert as a dumpster-diving racoon under a flood light.

He hadn't been expecting to be thanked, certainly no by anyone here.

"Something happened to him, while he was gone." But Scar will let Henry speak on those details as he wishes. Because he respects the p r i v a c y of other people's b u s i n e s s .

"He was also helpful. I wasn't aware that there were... travel devices in the Centers, now."

He was supposed to have a week.

Pizza is pretty good.

Edited 2023-08-19 01:04 (UTC)

"I know."

The words come out automatically-- it only occurs to her a second later that Scar... probably doesn't know that they're from the same world. Or... maybe anything else about them.

She has no idea how much Lust has or hasn't told Scar about the people in her life who weren't Scar.

"He and I-- we're. From the same place."

She doesn't think there's any need to go into more detail than that, for the moment. Business, privacy, etc.

"The warps have been around for a few years. ... I... think."

After a moment of consideration, she holds out her hand.

"Pass me a slice?"

He can have as much as he wants but also she is much smaller than him and her popcorn is all over the floor upstairs and she's high and very hungry. :(

"It's been seven," is all he says regarding the warp pads and passed time, filter somewhat dropped by the jello currently floating around in his head.

Scar holds down (not out, down) the pizza box when Heather reaches for it. His own slice is already almost gone.

"I am aware." And he knows Silent Hill a Big Mess. "It follows, that you would get along with homunculi."

"Seven... shit."

It has, hasn't it.

She takes the box, pulling out a slice for herself, although his next little comment catches her slightly by surprise before she can take a bite.

"... Oh. ... Yeah, we kind of... have some stuff in common. ... A lot in common."

She can't help but squint at him for a second. Seriously, how much does he know? And, hm, what does he mean by 'get along'?

Now isn't exactly a great time to ask, though. So she puts the box down and inhales about half the pizza slice without even thinking. The munchies are Here and they mean business.

Yeah, Heather, shit.

It's a good thing the only woman he has ever loved is on her way here and he feels like his head has been filled with lemon tapioca! That is making coping so very much easier!

He eyes Heather as she squints, the exchange of silence punctuated by both of them pausing with a not-insubstantial amount of pizza shoved into their mouths.

"Been dead?"

Edited 2023-08-19 01:45 (UTC)

Heather's eyes widen, and the unswallowed chunk of crush in her mouth juggernauts straight down her windpipe. She gags.

Whatever she was expecting to come out of his mouth... it wasn't that.

Before she can even think about answering him, she makes a beeline for the sink and proceeds to have a coughing fit into it so hard that for a second she almost feels like she's passing out.

The answer, for Scar's information, is 'Yes'.

The more specific answer is 'Yes, so many times that Heather doesn't actually know a specific number, and every single one was gruesome and torturous'.

Scar watches The Ordeal unfold with his signature patient stoicism, waiting for Heather to collect herself. He would offer assistance, but his first assumption is that she absolutely would not want any from him. So, he waits.

"Apologies."

It isn't really a taboo topic for him. His barometer for discussing these matters is warped well beyond repair.

It is, honestly, probably because of the Tea (tm) that the actual latent mental trauma of those deaths is kept mostly at bay-- but it is still at least a full two minutes of the most horrible sounds a pair of lungs can produce before Heather can even croak out a single word at all.

Her head is still in the sink, legs weak, whole body quaking, when a strangled, raspy "Yeah..." floats back over to Scar.

It's another thirty seconds or so before she can actually stand back up, eyes streaming and face beet-red with exertion.

She is no longer in danger of asphyxiating on pizza crust.

It's gone on long enough. With the measured movements of a man who is very aware of how much space he occupies, even while intoxicated, Scar reaches for the cabinet and grabs a glass. He gingerly opens the fridge, fills it from the filtered jug, and places it silently on the counter beside Heather. For whenever she wants it.

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