thisavrou | video 01 | Aortic Aneurysm

(You know who is not going to react to this situation decently no matter how many times it's explained to him? Eddie. You know who doesn't have a good game face against fear? Also Eddie. He's alone, he needs an adult, and he's pretty sure they don't restock on inhalers here. He knew he didn't need it, not technically, but he also knew that his lungs were contracting at a rate that lead to hyperventilating and as far as he was concerned, that was exactly what an asthma attack was all about. He was having an asthma attack. Maybe. His body was thinking about it.

By the way, he's definitely just been staring at the video for a couple of silent seconds, his jaw working back and forth as he just tried to remind himself that he was actually capable of breathing. This kid......)

My mom's going to fucking kill me.

(The words are whispered under his breath and he would think twice about swearing if he realized how many adults might be watching this video. He was enough of a loser that he could get the whole communication device thing, really, that was fine. But he wasn't quite able to wrap his mind around the full extent of it all.

After a second, he decides fuck it. He needs his inhaler. It goes up, he gives it a few shakes, and takes a deep, deep breath in with it. Holds. Holds.

Then his whole body deflates, his eyes rolling up. He closes his eyes and thinks about how he would talk to the police in Derry. Ha. If that wasn't the biggest fucking joke ever. When he speaks next, his voice is pitched higher than before, that typical 'I'm trying super hard to be polite and endearing' voice that he uses to call his mom 'mommy' when he's real apologetic. He's not even trying to be a suck up. The kid's just scared.)

Um. My name's Eddie Kaspbrak. I'm Sonia Kaspbrak's son and I definitely need to be home for dinner which is like, in an hour. So if anyone can help...I would really appreciate it.

.....God, I really hope this isn't that creep who was taking all those kids.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You ought to be.
You are a human child lost in an unfamiliar world, and you've nothing but a demon to guide you.

Well that sounds fake. I've been talking to a bunch of adults.

What so you're a demon? What's your name?

Yes, because adults are so helpful, are they not?

If you're so interested, why not name me for yourself?

(Well. Shit. That's a valid point, honestly.)

They can be.

(He remembers Mr. Keene's desert dry smile as he told Eddie he wasn't actually sick. At least, he wasn't sick physically. Mentally...

That was 'helpful'. Eddie stares at his shoes for a moment and not for the first time, he feels angry with himself.)

Please. Do you know how many demons are in the bible? That's ridiculous. Just tell me your name.

Get back to me when they do.

[No way in hell (ha ha) are they admitting that they've met a great deal of atypically helpful adults. Because that would compromise just how much fun they're planning to have a new kid's expense. They're terrible.]

I don't have one.
I must first be named.

So, never then?

(Was that a joke? That was a joke. Eddie's still not buying too much into this - whoever this person is. He's actually just feeling disgruntled in a way he felt towards kids his own age.)

I hope you're not asking me to name you. You're not my pet dog. I can't even have a pet dog.

(Allergies (if those weren't bullshit too).)

[The response arrests their attention for a fraction of a moment longer than usual. The witty repartee has an appeal that subluxates the typical cut and riposte of their introductory brand of inappropriately macabre speeches.]

[In short, it pulls something answering from them, a sharp, uneven cast to the usual fluid mask of their smile, right-handling it into a look of genuine amusement.]

[Another reason why text is preferred.]

Precisely. Never. Adults are notoriously incompetent.
Have you something against creatures of the canid persuasion?
And here I thought little boys loved puppy dog tails.

(Yeah. Every now and then Eddie could really, as Richie put it, Get Off A Good One. Not that he was about to pay himself on the back for it. Most of his humor came from being purely exasperated with life or someone in it.

Point in case: this asshole that he's talking to. An asshole he finally decides is definitely a kid too.

Demonic suggestions and all aside, Eddie can't really help but to relax a little more. He could deal with kids. Maybe not kids like Henry Bowers, but this person didn't seem like Henry Bowers.)

Adults are a LOT of things. And no offense, I'd rather deal with ten of whatever the hell you are than even one of them.

(Usually, anyway. Some adults weren't. Awful.)

No. I love dogs. I'm just. Allergic.

(Was he really though? Every time he had ever tried to pet a dog, his mom had been around and practically ripped his arm away, screaming at him about how the dog could have rabies and even if it didn't, his throat would close up and he would die.)

I'm not THAT little.

(Actually. He was pretty little.)

Those are the first two sensible things you've said since arriving here. Congratulations.

[They're fairly certain that he is, in fact, quite little, but seeing as they're something like four feet of undernourished and underweight skin-and-bone, they really don't have a position to argue. Technically.]

[But hypocrisy is one of their selling points, so.]

Allergic.
What a shame.

Except we have no dogs here, and so you won't undergo any allergic reactions and die horribly, choking on your own body's hyperactive immune system.
Equally a shame.

I say a lot of sensible things. You've only heard me talk for like two minutes.

(He was definitely one of the more sensible people he knew. Well. Sort of.

It is a shame and for a second, Eddie lets himself sulk over this. Dogs were really cute, after all, and there was a true tragedy in not being able to pet a dog.

Worse yet? Dogs don't even exist in this place.)

Oh I'm sure I'm still allergic to something up here. I don't know much about space bacteria yet but there's a library and I plan on reading up.

Whats a shame. Me being not small? What do you expect. I'm almost twelve.

(Will be in November, he wants to say, but that doesn't matter.)

[At present, his ratio of words they deem sensible to his general word count does not seem very high. Perhaps that's liable to change, but they're not optimistic. That's Frisk's job, in general, and - ]

[And they wrench the thought ruthlessly aside before it can take deeper root.]

You not dying. Horribly.
But I'm patient. There's lots of time for that to be the case.
People die all the time here.

(They shouldn't be, frankly, but Eddie has to reserve his pride. There was literally no need for him to admit that he was a shrieking headcase of a kid. Not that he really even admitted that to himself.)

I try really hard not to die horribly.
Like, I try really hard.

(That isn't a joke.

He seriously tries every day to avoid a million ways he could die.

Literally.

He goes a bit pale and for the first time since texting, sees the benefit in it.)

...Really? But people said it wasn't dangerous here.

How do they die?

[By contrast, Chara spends every day of their life trying very hard to die and being disappointed when it doesn't pay off.]

All sorts of ways, really!

Volcanic rock monsters, giant spiders, parasitic viruses...and that was just the place we left behind!
But mostly people kill each other. Humans trend toward that sort of thing, do they not?
Once we all had evil twins of ourselves, and those would kill us instead, which was really quite nice of them; it saved on clean-up costs and upped the body count tremendously.

(You can take Eddie's luck of near-death experiences.

Okay but real talk, he was doing just fine but this kind of thing is the exact sort of thing that gets Eddie's anxiety ramped up the wazoo. He might not actually have asthma, but no one could deny he has some serious psychological problems and he's soon hyperventilating again.

Parasitic viruses - - Jaaaysus Christ!!

Oh god, he's not crying you're crying. This place just got ten times scarier. He always tries so, so hard not to cry but he's not the strongest in that department and is scrubbing at his eyes, viciously glad for the text option.

This boy won't be texting back anytime soon. Less because of dislike of this stranger and more because he's having a lowkey (otherwise known as huge) breakdown.)

[Well, that was bracingly fun for all parties involved.]

[Having presumably sufficiently either scared or annoyed their partner in brief conversation away from engaging further, Chara can at least take satisfaction in the unknown hypothetical situation that they may have successfully scared another child.]

[May have.]

[They'll have to confirm later, it seems.]

[APOLOGIZE TO THIS BOY!!!!!!!!!]

[CAN'T MAKE ME]

video 01 | Aortic Aneurysm

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