terrance ward || trauma (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
traumatizing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ruffians2017-11-09 01:26 am
traumatizing) wrote in ruffians2017-11-09 01:26 am
Entry tags:
the punchline to the joke is asking "someone save us"
STILL HERE, HUH?
Looks like you're still on Tera. By choice, or maybe you missed your chance to get home. Doesn't matter really, you're here now and you gotta deal with the fallout one way or another. Here's hoping that works out for you.
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[There's shit all waiting for him back home, and this is a place he can make a difference. Between the remains of Pride and Virgo, there's enough musicians left behind who need help and direction, and a world reeling from whatever the fuck happened with Blanch and Santiago. He's not a businessman, but he can help. He can do something.]
[What that something is exactly, Terry's got no idea. The weeks immediately after The Event, Terry spends pouring over files he doesn't understand, wondering if dismantling the labels altogether is the best thing to do, or repurpose them to be something better. He doesn't really take better care of himself than showers that are mostly to wake himself up along with a lot of coffee and cereal bars, the kid's in desperate need of a hot meal and a shave, but he'll deal with that after.]
[Gotta save the world first, etc.]
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[He didn't think he wanted to at first. He went back to his familiar life and genuinely enjoyed it for a little while, but after that his heart started to ache. He didn't miss the fame or the money - he'd long come to terms with the idea that it was all manufactured - but he missed his friends. He missed his band. Most of all, he missed Terry. Terry was the hardest loss to bear, and over time it felt like it was just getting harder and harder instead of easier.]
[So when the opportunity to come back came up of course he took it. And it took a little while in some weird inter dimensional spaceship but he touched down on Tera about an hour ago and has been doing everything in his power to get to Pride HQ. He's not even sure Terry will be here but it's a start at least.]
[The fact that it's a ghost town doesn't seem promising. Maxxie almost makes a beeline for the elevators but stops and thinks it might be a good idea to see if anyone even works here anymore and might be able to give him a clue, so he opens the door to the bar and his breath catches in his throat.]
[He feels like he wasn't prepared. How could he be? It's been so long but Terry's frame and posture, hunched at the bar with papers spread out in front of him, is so familiar that it hurts and it feels like an eternity passes between the recognition and the moment Maxxie finally speaks.]
Terry?
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[His response is just to frown and take a gulp of his cold coffee, leaning over the table like that's gonna help him focus more and not think about who he misses and how alone he feels and all that. He has issues to figure out, okay.]
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Terry.
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Nope.
[He shakes his head, repeating it again, and looks back at the papers on the table in front of him.]
I might be crazy, but I don't have any time for hallucinations right now.
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[Maxxie feels his eyes sting. He makes his way over to the table, still a hesitant beat in his step, and crouches down beside it.]
I'm not--
[It catches in his throat, and he reaches out to put his hand on Terry's forearm, to prove that he's real.]
I'm not a hallucination.
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[Terry shakes his head again, but he's looking at Maxxie now. Really looking. Eyes misting up a little because that looks like him and it feels like him but...]
You went home. [it sounds more like he's trying to reassure himself than he is sharing a fact] You have a family and friends and-- And you went home.
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I came back.
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[Terry frowns. He doesn't understand this, he doesn't understand any of it. Why... Why would Maxxie come back? For what? Some hollowed out record label and a shitty boyfriend?]
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[...not the least of which is Terry, who seems intent on working himself to death. It's early morning as Jamie shuffles out of one of the bedrooms in the suite they've commandeered and makes a beeline for the coffeepot, side-eyeing Terry as he goes.]
Are you up earlier than normal, or did you just never go to bed?
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[He looks up at Jamie and holds out his mug in a request for a refill. He looks like shit and he feels like it too, but coffee will obviously help right.]
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Well you should sleep, y'know. Sometime. Not gonna do anyone any good if you drop dead from exhaustion.
[He busies himself with the coffeepot for a few moments and then returns to the table strewn with papers, handing Terry a fresh cup and taking a swig of his own.]
Making any progress?
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No. [he shakes his head] I don't understand any of what I'm looking at.
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[It's not meant as a put-down; so much of this shit is out of their wheelhouse that Jamie wouldn't blame anyone for getting a little lost trying to make sense of it.]
Orrrr maybe you've just been staring at it for too long and you need a change of pace.
[Hint. Hint-hint.]
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[Jamie has a feeling he's going to lose this battle because Terry is a stubborn jerk with no sense of self-preservation, but he keeps trying as he goes back into the kitchen and rummages through the fridge, producing a carton of eggs.]
'Cause that's what happens with me sometimes. Happened. Back home, working on strategies. If you obsess over stuff too long sometimes it all just blends together.
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[What he's looking at is actually a bunch of accounting stuff, but the point stands. He's not gonna suddenly learn accounting if he takes a break and comes back, that's not how brains work.]
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/busts in here nine thousand years late
SCREAMS
my goodness
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[Because why the fuck wouldn't she? Going off to resume being dead wasn't too great of an option, and while she's not entirely jazzed to be dealing with the ruins of the labels that enslaved her Terry made a good argument. They can, amazingly enough, make a difference here.]
[And she can keep performing. As long as people are looking at her, she's all set.]
[It's after one of these late-night gigs that Luci comes swaying in to where Terry's set himself up to stare at more of those stupid files. She's still sleepy too, at 2PM, but she's helping herself to some of Terry's ancient-but-still-hot coffee and resting her chin on the top of his head.]
Anything yet?
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[Besides that, he's heartbroken right now too. He's allowed to feel like shit.]
[Luci's always a welcome presence though, and Terry might not smile at her voice, but some of the tension eases out of him. Even when she steals his coffee.]
Yeah, I figured out I should hire an accountant.
[He pauses to flip through a couple of pages and sighs heavily.]
Which would be great except I don't know if we've got the money for one.
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You look like shit. [Never one to pull punches, even un-brainwashed. Luci runs her hands down the sides of Terry's neck and starts rubbing. It's like trying to massage a boulder, and she grimaces.] I'll get the money for the accountant, put all this down for a bit, yeah?
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There's a whole lot of other stuff too. It's endless.
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So that means it'll always be here and you can come out with me tonight. I'm crashing that dive on sixth, the owner fired a bartender for body slamming a guy who groped her. Should be fun~
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[God. The thought of going out actually causes a short panic and he shakes his head.]
I don't really feel like going out.
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C'mooon. You do nothing but this, it's boring even watching you.
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