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Jan. 22nd, 2010

Going on an adventure with McVries was a strange thing. What was even stranger: it felt the two of them had been in this electrical room together for weeks although it was probably only minutes, but that was this strange Afterlife for ya. A second is a month, a year a minute, and who knew what the Hell else could happen?

"Hey, Pete," he mused, halting a moment, "where did Olson, Baker, and Garraty go? Hell, where'd anyone go?" He paused. "Feels like we're the only two here, doesn't it? Does that thought tickle your fancy? You and me, the last two men on an Earth made of Afterlife?"

Stebbins reached out and touched the wall. It was dusty, cobwebby. Nonetheless he trailed his slim fingers across it until he reached the electrical box.


Feb. 10th, 2010 08:27 pm (UTC)
Peter thinned his lips. Stebbins was just messing with his head. That's all he was doing. Of course, what Peter didn't really want to admit was that Stebbins' words were making him think. Think back to the Walk, think back to Garraty and what transpired between them in the few days during the Walk...

When Stebbins approached the air hockey table and inquired about a game, Peter was a little surprised to find himself storming over to the table with no thought and placing his hands on the empty side of it. "Why not? That's what we came in here for, right?"

His words had come out much sharper than he intended.
Feb. 11th, 2010 12:53 am (UTC)
Stebbins had to use all of his might to not grin from ear to ear at Pete's splendid reaction. He smirked, pulling the little disk from its hole; when the puck had gotten there Stebbins hadn't a clue. But that most certainly was this place, wasn't it?

"Let's make things more interesting. . . If I win, you tell me why you truly joined the Walk. If you win, well, what would you like to know, Pete?"
Feb. 26th, 2010 01:30 am (UTC)
"I want to know why we're here. You already spilled your guts to me. And I have nothing to spill. Maybe I just joined cause I was ready to die. I had nothing left. I still don't."

Peter slammed his paddle down on the hard surface and swallowed a mouthful of dry air. "I was kinda pissed when I woke up here, actually. I thought it was finally over."

He had a scowl on his lips that looked like it was a permanent addition. It was etched across his face under a set of narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. Peter was leaning over the table now, back bent and arms stiff.
Feb. 27th, 2010 04:38 am (UTC)
"For all I do know, the reason we're here is something I don't," Stebbins sighed ruefully. "Here, none of us has anything to live for. . . Well, most of us." He gave a crooked smile, just this side of wicked. Alive or not, Stebbins did live for getting under the skin of others. He could admit that he was a parasite.

"So, Pete, was so God awful you wanted to check out early? Why so glum over there?"