ic contact (quiet place)

[waystation]

UN:touched
✎ TEXT ✆ AUDIO ▶ VIDEO

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Delivery - 2/21

[clussy]

(Eddie had originally wound up again at the hospital in exploration for art supplies for Bill. But truthfully, as he made his way to the children's ward, he realized that he could bother with getting Jake something too. He'd seen him doodling a couple of times, and while he hadn't asked, he knew Bill enough to realize someone who liked to draw when he saw one. So he grabs a lot of everything for both boys. Maybe they were all a little more mature for their age, but that didn't mean boredom wasn't going to be their number one way of dying here. Especially when they had to be silent.

Turns out the children's ward was well stocked. Not just in the actual play area itself, but the individual patient rooms as well.

This winds up with Eddie setting up a little gift on Jake's bed when Jake was out of the house. He sets it on top of a clean baby blanket he had found so that things would stay neat and out of the way. He'd found some sketchbooks in some of the rooms, and Bill and Jake got the most blank ones while Eddie kept the rest in his room for this or that. Jake's probably had about ten drawings in it from some kid, but the rest was ready for Jake's art. Then there was plenty of scrap paper. Eddie didn't know Jake's medium, so like Bill, Jake got something of everything. There were traditional pencils as well as colored (with a pencil sharpener too), crayons, markers, and watercolor paints (non-toxic of course for children). Along with that were various craft supplies in general that seemed to be everywhere. Stuff like colored pipe cleaners, poms, glitter, scissors, clothespins, and a few sheets of decorative scrapbook paper.

One of those papers, decorated with flowers, was folded up on top of the pile with a simple note inside.

I'm not really sure what you use. But I hope this makes life a little nicer here for you.

-Eddie.)

[waystation]

<sub>[It's not home, this place--nothing will ever be home like it once was--but house eleven offers the closest thing to safety. They've been working long hours to soundproof it as much as humanly possible, driven by a need to secure at least one place in this whole world where they can relax, just a little.

Jake is eager to get indoors most days. It's not natural, living in complete and total silence, and he looks forward to the times when he can let down his guard a little. He'd like to learn to live like the natives, but not become so good at it he gets used to it. He's just swinging his bag off his shoulder--something scrounged up among forgotten belongings to replace the one he had before--when he notices the bundle on his bed. It stands out in the otherwise unadorned room. Aside from the bed, which had been a donation from someone else, Jake hasn't seen fit to outfit it with much. (Truth be told, he doesn't like being left alone in his room; he prefers to spend time elsewhere, with company.)

The gift breaks the utilitarian monotony in the most unexpectedly thoughtful way. Jake spends time running his fingers over the pencils and sketchbook and colored craft supplies--aged, but a lot of it still usable. It looks like a Michael's threw up twenty-year-old inventory all over his bed and Jake couldn't be more pleased or touched.

He'd never thought to be sentimental about ephemeral paper notes like letters or birthday cards before he'd started hoarding clippings of his father's accident. Now he knows he'll be folding Eddie's note and carefully tucking it away where it'll stay safe.

A scrap of paper will find its way under Eddie's door before the day is out, waiting its turn to be read. Written with one of his new pencils, there's a doodle of a simple stick figure in the corner, hand lifted in a friendly wave.]</sub>

I can't believe you got me a gift basket and it's not even my birthday. Thanks, it's awesome. Really.

- Jake

[clussy]

(Eddie doesn't know why he's surprised to get a note back. It makes his chest squeeze up with a small burst of warmth and excitement to see that piece of paper on his floor upon opening his door one day. It really did disrupt the monotony of a living situation like this in the best possible way. He spent plenty of time with Jake whenever he wasn't busy with classes or over at the greenhouse working. Similarly, he wasn't a very big fan of being alone. None of them seemed to be.

And not unlike Jake, the note he receives is carefully tucked away. Eddie would need to begin a new box for his special things, and he makes a note on the whiteboard (collected also from the hospital) that he had sealed to the back of his bathroom door. On the whiteboard was mostly an inventory of medical supplies, but also little notes like this one.

After he writes that up, he gets out a piece of paper and writes a simple note back:)

When's your birthday??

Mines Nov 15

(This note gets folded into an airplane and attached to a strong that he leaves hanging from Jake's doorknob.)

[waystation]

_{[This is--? Cute, what the hell. The escalating note exchange makes him smile. This time Jake adds more to the paper plane note, refolds it, and sets it to rest in one of Eddie's potted plants like a airplane crash landed in a jungle canopy.]}

October 9th. We're pretty close.

How old are you? ___

_{[A helpfully supplied blank awaits Eddie's answer. 10 points for every correctly answered question on this pop quiz.]}

[clussy]

(It's pointless, really, to exchange letters like this when they could technically just...talk. But somehow this was just. Fun.)

How old are you? _12_ ___?

(He draws in a little line right after the 12 he fills in so that Jake has to fill it in too.)

Just turned :)

Where did you grow up? ________

(This plane winds up sticking straight up out of Jake's pillows on his bed.)

Delivery

[justbeingknife]

[ Sometime in early March, Jake would find a pair of Converse All-Stars outside the door of his house, with the following note in Japanese: ]

They're not my size. Figured you could use 'em to get somewhere, though.

[waystation]

<sub>[Huh. Their porch is sure popular lately...

Without his shoes or jacket, bundling up for winter weather in Reims has been an interesting exercise in making do with what he has. And building up a layer of callouses, yikes. He won't take air cushioned soles for granted ever again.

He only knows one Japanese person here, so once he stumbles across the bundle and has time to translate the note, he considers his options and hazards a text to Majima.]</sub>

Did you leave something at my house?

[justbeingknife]

[ porches all day erry day ]

What, they're not your style?

[ Guilty. Jake was actually the first to message him about it, though. ]

[waystation]

So it was you. You didn't leave a name.

Thanks, Majima, they're awesome. Still a classic in my time. _{[And they match, which is a step up.]} I'll see if they fit anyone here.

[justbeingknife]

Figured I didn't need to. Not like there's a whole lotta Japanese people running around.

And you're welcome. Maybe it'll save someone some blood blisters. That shit's the worst.

[ A brief pause ]

You're the first one to message me about it.

Delivery 3/16

[clussy]

(Jake will discover in his bedroom a bike. Not just any bike. Silver. It looks freshly polished and it's leaning against its kickstand.

It had been even harder to leave in Jake's room than it had been to leave the pin with Max. It left Eddie with a cold, hollow feeling that shook in the center of his chest. He had almost cried leaving the bike. A part of him wanted to put it in his own room in the corner. But it somehow felt like....a memorial if he did that. Like Bill was never coming back.

And he couldn't accept that.

So for now...

Hanging from the bike from a string is a new note. A note that Eddie had taken several tries to write. He had scraped wads of paper on his floor still from it and his hand cramped from how many times he'd tried figuring out what he wanted to say. And even the final copy isn't perfect, but Eddie's tired by the time he's finished. And the note reads:)

Jake-

I need to ask something of you. I need you to take care of this bike. I need you to please help me This was Bill's bike.

And he's gone now. He's gone and I don't know when he'll come back, but I know he has to come back. He can't leave me forever. I know he can't. He promised he wouldn't. So he'll be back and when he does, you'll have this bike safe and ready for him. It deserves to be ridden and loved and I trust you with those things. I trust you with this.

Thank you for being here. I don't know what I'd do without you. It's okay, by the way. I know you're going to be worried and it's okay. It's okay. I'm okay or I'll be okay.

Love,
Eddie.

[waystation]

<sub>[Like with Charlie, when Bill's mental presence disappears, Jake notices it as one might notice a painting they see every day suddenly gone from the interior landscape of their house. Not dead on the floor, or burned to ash, just... gone.

When he comes home one day to find the bike, what would be an antique in his time if not for the life preserved in it from the owner who'd cherished it up until now, he comes to a complete stop. Almost reverently, he runs his fingers over a handle bar. It's not Bill, but it is in a way a part of him, like Roland's guns had been a part of him.]</sub>

Eddie,

I'll take good care of it, I swear.

I know you'll be okay. Bill would know you'll keep going, if he were here to say it. But if you need me, you know where to find me.

_{[It doesn't seem strange to him that Eddie would sign the end of his letter with love. It's an act of love, after all, born of the love Eddie has for Bill and the love Bill has for his bike. He respects that.]}

You can trust me.

- Jake

text; un: lucas (27th march)

[scarecrowed]

[ Lucas isn't sure why he messages the boy. He doesn't usually go out of his way to befriend children. But part of him misses Sylvie everyday, the little witch girl he initially wanted to abandon but soon was protecting her like she was his own daughter. It's been a while since they spoke, but he wonders how Jake has been coping in this strange world, whether he's made any friends... ]

hello jake. keeping out of mischief i hope.

do you like dogs?

[ Perhaps he'd like to meet Toto. ]

[waystation]

I try but mischief doesn't seem to want to keep away from me.

_{[Expeditions to see the resident monsters living in the Eiffel Tower. Dust storms. Mystery assailants. It's been a crazy week already. An out of the blue question doesn't even faze him.]}

Dogs? Yeah, I like dogs. Who doesn't?

[scarecrowed]

a dog from my world is now here. he belongs to my friend dorothy but some days he won't leave me alone.

would you like to meet him?

[waystation]

Seriously?

_{[Hold up, he and Dorothy have co-custody of yet another dog in Reims? That seems like it's deserving of more questions, but before any of that, he knows one thing for sure--]}

Yeah! _{[Translation: hell yEAH!!!!!]} Can I?

[scarecrowed]

i am serious.

i wouldn't be mentioning him if you couldn't. where are you now? i'll bring him to you.

text

[deadlight]

have u ever had
a strawberry oreo?

[waystation]

_{[He always has time for one of his favorite gingers.]}

Not that exact flavor. Why?

[deadlight]

uh so this is gonna sound really suspect but
u know how we all got stuff from home or whatever?

well this one japanese guy got i guess a bunch of japanese candy and he posted like a dirty riddle thing on the network and i got it (bc i know richie) and so i won some candy

[waystation]

_{[Holy crap. First of all, he hasn't had oreos in what feels like forever and he's willing to suspend any and all suspicion about the mystery gifts over how awesome that is. Second of all... hmmmmmmmm, not sure how to feel about the dirty riddle part.]}

It wasn't Majima, was it?

_{[Just... checking.]}

Congrats, that's one way to ace a pop quiz. I'll totally try one. We got an entire box of bacon on the doorstep a while back. If that stuff didn't kill us, oreos probably won't.

[nishizono]

hey mr. brain tickle
you busy?

[waystation]

_{[Brain tickle. As far as nicknames go, this one's the most creative yet.]}

Just got up. What's up?

[nishizono]

[ the only miracle here is that it's never been coined before. ]

you ever tried to get inside the head of a monster before?

[waystation]

_{[A miracle, or word salad courtesy of Tetora? We may never know.]}

Meaning...?

_{[What kind of monster are they talking here?]}