saveourearth | ROAD TRIP (Backdated Log)

Defensively, Russell grumbles, "I'm not making the rules, we hardly know what they are."

He holds his hands in front of himself, focuses for a second. And without any magician's flourishes or hints of threads or smoke or other distractions, a full humerus - a little larger than life size for a human - drops from the air into his waiting hands.

"There. Believe me?"

Though, if Walter can't remember everything to do with the alien memories and powers and changes...

"...You can see it, right?"

And Walter just stares, his jaw dropping noticeably before he closes it with more force than is probably necessary. ~~Web~~Mind, officially blown.

"Ye-e-es," he overenunciates. He steps forward, very hesitant, then stops moving again.

"... And you're sure I should be coming back? You did say something about taking your own turn."

At least now the staring isn't Walter staring at him like he's making everything up, that's an improvement.

"I... don't know what else you wanted to test... But, I know I want to know if you'll remember right."

If Walter comes back with big gaps in his memory, maybe Russell will give up on this. Or make the decision to break his mum's heart and move out of the Mossgate region altogether. One or the other.

"Uh. And we should have spotters, just in case." As if this is a matter of getting high on something new.

To amuse himself while waiting for Walter to decide what to do now, Russell tosses the bone in the direction of the boundary - not quite at Walter, but near him. It fades in the air as it goes, disappearing before it ever hits the ground, and he blinks and stares after it.

Walter squares his shoulders - at this point, he wants to know what he's somehow forgotten.

After balking a moment at the mention of spotters, and following the bone thrown only to literally dissolve what on Earth-, he heads right back over.

The enormity of, well, everything coming back to him almost bowls him over again; within even just one second its as if the world is crashing over him, and he stumbles forward wanting for something to grasp.

He's left gasping, all memories (and inability to forget them) restored, and he blinks his eyes repeatedly as he takes stock.

"How big of a fool would you rate how I looked just now, on a scale of one to, oh, infinity?" he asks, after waiting a full minute - a minute! - to be sure that everything (disturbing or distressing as it may be) is still his.

He can remember not remembering, and if that's not a mind screw, he's not sure what is!

It's a long minute of staring at his flatmate as he stumbles again on the return - will the boundary feel solid, or something? Is it just disorientation - because if it's that bad, he won't be driving himself out any time soon. And most of all... does he remember anything?

Finally, Walter talks, and it reassures that he at least remembers enough.

"Oh, you can rate that for yourself," Russell says brightly and helpfully, waggling his phone. It's still recording, even if the visual's going to be terrible from all the moving around. "I missed the start of it, but it should be enough..."

But, teasing aside, there's an important question to ask before he takes his own turn.

"Do you think you remember everything now?"

It's the disorientation, thankfully - Walter keeps checking over his memories, even the ones he doesn't want to look at, finally forcing himself back in the ever-changing now.

With a wry face, he walks the rest of the way over to grab the phone from Russell.

"I'll keep it recording for your turn, then. You don't have the other phone with you, do you? Probably don't want to take that out of the Boundary."

What if it dissolved like the bone had? More likely, it'd just not turn back on, but still...

"And yes. Emphasis on the everything."

Though there weren't any inexplicable new memories, either ~~or sudden meta knowledge~~, not that he minded.

"...Right, then."

Whether or not Walter's admitted to how much he remembers these days, it's hard for Russell to know if that comment implies it's a good thing or bad thing. So there's not much to say in reply to that, and he just passes the ordinary phone over.

"...No, I didn't take it with, didn't want to risk dropping in the dark." Russell sighs, looking out towards the invisible boundary where the bone had disappeared, and carefully steps towards it. "Just as well, I never guessed what else might happen to it."

Phone acquired, Walter backs up to where his bike is still on the ground, and gestures openly with his free arm for Russell to go on ahead.

"Exactly. At least we can't disappear upon walking through."

Though who knew if that, too, could change? A disturbing thought.

With that unwelcome thought, it's as good a time to rush out - and forget this whole conversation happening. Hopefully all the amnesia conversation will be enough to forget it altogether, even after.

He squints at his surroundings as he steps, still trying in vain to find some sign of the impending loss of the network, but there's nothing. Well, nothing besides a bit of the skid in the dirt and grass, where Walter slipped. Russell steps right by it, bracing himself, and he

He...

He's wavering out of a braced stance, standing on the side of the road, the sky barely lit up, with no idea how he got here.

"What...?"

"Russell?"

Holding one hand up, Walter waves - and keeps the hand with the phone at waist level. Not tilted, just so it won't distract his already-clearly-confused flatmate.

"How are you feeling? I know it's early, but I promise this isn't a prank."

Russell turns at the sound, trying to get the speaker in front of him, and backs up a few steps before he recognizes his flatmate. It takes a second, in the dim light.

"What?" he repeats, looking around. He's still struggling to remember how he got here, distracted enough not to register the question.

"Walter? Did someone knock me out and drive me off in their trunk? Where..."

There's a few scattered buildings around, and the road looks familiar but only somewhat - like he's driven it plenty of times, but not frequently enough to recognize anything but the landmarks.

"No, you drove yourself, and I rode my bike here," Walter explains, gesturing with his still-free hand to Russell's scooter.

"Do you remember... anything, about today? Or, say, anything in detail since June fourteenth?"

Yes, he is being specific about the date - Russell is free to needle him about it, for certain!

Russell squints after the gesture, recognizing his ride - and realizing that's his helmet, still on his head, right now.

"I... That's very specific, I don't... What is today?"

Because it's obviously not June, and he remembers... things since at least late July, but the details get vaguer and vaguer as they go.

He pats at his pocket as he asks, checks the other, and scowls down at his pants.

"Where's my mobile? What the hell's going on...?"

"November 17th."

And he holds up Russell's phone at last. It's still recording, too.

"Over here - and before you ask, you did hand it to me before walking away."

Walter's quietly checking over his flatmate; if the changes over the past few months have been the result of an Echo, they should be reversing... but if it took time to show itself in the first place, then perhaps that's a non-starter and Russell would have to remain outside the boundary for days or even weeks before anything showed.

Russell reaches up as if to go for the phone, then reconsiders. He turns a slow circle, doublechecking his surroundings... but there's nothing. No obvious objects on the ground he might have come over to pick up, no interesting signs on the side of the road. No hint what they're doing here.

He turns back to Walter, his hands spread wide in a frustrated shrug... And his features, since the changes were due to an echo, are softer and fleshed out again.

"Alright, that's not my real question. Did I hit my head? You're not surprised I can't remember... things. Do I get a hint?"

There's some movie like that, a woman who loses her memories whenever she sleeps, could something like that be going on? Except he's not waking up in bed, but standing in the cold.

Huh. Russell would definitely want to see the footage of this, then.

"Does the fact I just had the same happen to me, by walking over to the same place you have, count as an answer? And no, you didn't hit your head, at least not where I could see."

"That... There's nothing here," Russell protests, pointing down at the grass, the pavement, the road. It's featureless, generic. No mysterious rings of mushrooms or anything else otherworldly.

"That doesn't explain anything! Do you remember the last few months?"

"It's not a limit that can be seen by anyone or anything, no."

Even the ring of mushrooms might have been appropriate, if aggravating.

"Yes, though a few minutes ago I didn't. And then I gained those memories back."

As he'd more-or-less just said. Still, one other thing he wants to check...

"Do you remember anything from this year's Halloween, or is that a blur as well?"

"I..."

Russell exhales, shaking his head with increasing weariness.

"No, I don't. That's... worse than most of it, I don't recall anything about it. Did we do something, Halloween?"

Is Halloween significant to this amnesia, some unseen head injury back then?

"Why are you being so coy about this, anyhow. Can't you just tell me what's going on, or do I need to... do something, I don't know."

"More like something happened to the whole town - a prank with buckets of apples on everyone's doorstep, and skeletons seemingly simultaneously unearthed in all the local graveyards."

Which had sounded much less like a prank, really.

"We made the news - Mossgate in general did, not us specifically."

That would have been a nightmare, Echoes or no Echoes.

"The problem is, I can tell you what's been happening, but I don't have physical proof on hand. Nothing that you couldn't dismiss, anyway."

He was tempted to pause the feed, check if Russell's bone had been caught on the footage - but no, best not to waste time.

"Your aunt doesn't know, though, or we'd never have heard the end of it."

Every new scattered, contextless detail is just more baffling. And a cold chill washes over Russell, in the instant between Walter mentioning making the news - and clarifying it hadn't been them.

"And... why would my aunt be more fussed than my mum, or anyone else...? Which aunt?"

There's multiple people he calls aunt, and a couple of actual aunts, through all the branches of his family. If he knew Benjiro was involved, it might be more obvious... but, still, not by that much. Rosemary and Agatha are the aunts Russell's closest to, but Ben's presence in the Mossgate is still fairly recent.

Russell shakes his head, scrubbing at his face for a second, and checks his hair. At least that's styled normally, whatever else is going on.

"Okay, so... no, don't answer that. You'll just make it more muddled than it is now. How do I... Can I just remember like you did?"

"When there's people with gray skin, people who can float, and people who can conjure bones from nowhere at all... who do you think?"

Walter's grinning, now, but only grimly.

"The memories are as geographically-locked as the ability to gain these odd traits. Video can be taken out," he continues, once again gesturing with the phone.

"But that seems to be all. You can walk back over now, if you want to check. Or," he adds, "I can toss this over."

Though Russell would be unlikely to forgive him if he manages to break it.

"What, I don't..."

Geographically locked odd traits. Grey skin, floating people, and magical bones. Vivid, but none of it brings any memories to mind, and it certainly doesn't connect his thoughts to any of his aunts in particular. Russell hisses frustration, then gestures for a stop.

"No, don't toss the mobile! I'm... I'm coming over."

He steps forward like he expects there's a trick, like Walter took his phone to make him walk over - as though retrieving his scooter wouldn't have been enough. Once, twice, a couple more steps, and he's through.

It doesn't bowl him over quite so hard. Fewer alternate memories to recover, less relentlessly detailed memory. He goes from wondering what's going on and wanting his phone back, to wanting his phone back to see what it recorded, and doubletaking a glance back as he realizes he remembers.

"I... Oh my god."

Well, that seems like more than enough for one day. Walter hits 'stop' on the recording once there's footage of Russell crossing back over on it.

"Now you know how I felt," he comments, voice wry, as he hands the phone back to his friend.

"It just wasn't there," Russell manages to say as he takes a deep breath, and accepts it back.

The phone's open to the camera app, paused on the recently saved video, and he stares at its unmoving image. Walter seems confident it was the same for both of them, but he has to talk his thoughts aloud for a moment.

"I... I was me, no question about it, but all of this nonsense was gone. And a lot more went with it, I can't imagine how I'll visit anyone and seem normal."

He runs a hand into his hair, never mind the styling gel.

"I'm going to need to write myself some cover stories, or something..."

ROAD TRIP (Backdated Log)

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\o/

☠

Bless whatever that emote is.

it's a crossbones - are you getting an error square?

No, I can see it fine.

then that's what it is: celebratory(?) bones

Yay!? =D

probably!

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my best guess where they are: https://tinyurl.com/yc4l9jn9

The shack-ish building made me laugh. XD

Re: The shack-ish building made me laugh. XD

Re: The shack-ish building made me laugh. XD

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