maskormenace | 05 ▸ VIDEO. ( forward-dated to tues )

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05 ▸ VIDEO. ( forward-dated to tues )

[ The feed turns on, and some people may recognize the familiar face of Reggie Mantle that graces the screen-- albeit, looking slightly differently than the last time he was here. His hair is a little bit longer, and he's rocking a very classy, tasteful black-shirt-black-vest ensemble, topped off with a pair of dark, dark sunglasses and a toothpick idly perched in his mouth. ]

Yo. Don't call it a comeback or anything, but you can all relax now and stop missing me so much. It's me, Reggie-- or "Mantle the Magnificent", as some of you may know me better. Here I am. [ Whether he likes it or not, babey...! ] And apparently some of you wasted no freaking time before robbing me. You know who you are: give me my shit back. Give me my car and my dog back.

[ He's pretty sure he knows who you are, too, and so is being extremely generous by not making this a naming-names sort of call-out. But his much-emptier-than-usual apartment is probably somewhat visible behind him anyway.

Reggie's not interested in dealing with that right now, though, not after everything else he's just been through. Investigating the looting and the other messes made in his apartment can... wait, at least one night. ]

Has it really only been like, a week since I left, though? Cuz for me it was almost a year. I mean, at least I didn't miss Christmas, but suddenly I'm like, five months away from turning 18.

[ N B D. On either count; Christmas is still a few months away back home, so that would have sucked, but he's not nearly as close to his 18th birthday there as he is now. He reaches up as if to adjust his sunglasses, then catches himself, dropping his hand before he touches them and focusing instead on just opening his bedroom door. ]

The age of lap dances. Just in case anyone wants to start planning the surprise party now.

[ He sets his communicator down, moving off-screen to change into something a little more comfortable, but he doesn't switch the feed off yet-- it isn't long before he appears on-screen again, still wearing his sunglasses, but now also wearing a blue hoodie instead of (or possibly over) his other clothes, and has swapped his toothpick out for a candy cane (since of course he picked some up). Wasting no time trying to settle back in, apparently. ]

But y'know, it feels weird as hell going home and then ending up back here... and I don't mean just cuz some people will break into your place and either rob you or bleed all over it. [ He's not dealing with that right now. Moving on: ] More like how it feels like having whiplash and a hangover at the same time-- like, that can't be that good for our brains.

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Presumably, he would have been sentenced to execution, you would have rescued him seconds before he was given the chair, had a shoot out with the prison guards as you got him out of there and ultimately gone on the run together. Maybe forge some fake passports and start a life in Norway.

[ Or Sweden. Somewhere up north, at least. Reggie's right to assume Derek would lose his fucking mind if he knew any more of the real story, so he's probably doing the both of them a favour by keeping it all to himself, but Derek's not stupid enough to think this was really as fun and as casual of a jailbreak as a jailbreak can be. Just... doesn't want to stop Reggie from smiling.

He moves and stands besides Reggie, leaning back against Stacy's Mom, her firm and sexy body holding up his weight. Reggie asks where they could move to, and Derek shrugs - he considers saying that if he ever goes home again, he should look up Beacon Hills, see if they happen to live in the same version of America. But what's the point? Reggie wouldn't remember this conversation if he left again. ]

You know, I was a fugitive back home, for a while. Did I ever tell you that?

I guess that wouldn't be so bad. Maybe we could go to Mexico.

[ Being on the run with Archie-- not that they're exes back home, though, so it wouldn't have quite the same tone or implications as their history here might add into the mix. That's okay, though; Reggie could live with being on the lam with Archie and Veronica both. Now there's a thought.

Pushing up with his arms, Reggie hoists himself up to sit on Stacy's Mom's hood, man-spreading his legs wide, feet twitching restlessly with unfocused energy; he turns his head to show he's still listening, in case it's a little hard to tell where his eyes are looking behind those dark glasses. ]

What'd you do?

[ Derek shrugs, that kind of obliging shrug that shows vague affirmation without adding any real content to the conversation. That's another thing he could give advice on, though, if he ever goes back home - he's yet to experience the whole kidnapped and held hostage in Mexico part of his life, but when he does, he'll at least be able to come back and tell Reggie some good places to eat when he starts his secret life there. ]

Nothing. Well... I mean. Okay, I've done a lot of shit in my life - [ up to and including murder - ] but. They thought I killed my sister. I didn't. After that, I was accused of trying to kill a bunch of kids by holing them up in a school and picking them off one by one, which - spoilers - I wasn't. They caught the guy who really did it all, but.

[ Another shrug. Later, Derek's gonna become nationally hunted and labelled as America's most wanted serial killer after a dozen more people die again, but he doesn't know about that. Foolishly, Derek continues to believe his days of running from the police are over. ]

I cut out his throat. He brought himself back to life. He basically lives with me in my future, apparently. It's a whole big thing. [ He looks at Reggie, sideways. ] Werewolf politics.

Um...

[ Hm. It's hard to keep smiling through all that, because it's really quite... well, a lot. Not unfathomable, since Reggie does still come from Riverdale where many similar things have gone down, but a lot nonetheless. He squints, brows furrowed slightly. ]

Sorry about your sister. And the-- so was it all just the one killer, or was there a couple?

[ If that sounds like a dumb question, it's not. Jason, Midge, Dilton, and whoever the hell Archie was framed for killing all died by completely different hands, after all-- and even Fangs was shot by yet another entirely different person. And those are just the people Reggie knows about.

His feet continue to jiggle idly, maybe a bit anxiously, and he drops his gaze for a moment (but again, not that it's obvious behind his glasses). He probably already knew that Derek's killed people, even if not explicitly it's at least sort of implied with werewolves, but it's still different accepting that potential fact in the abstract versus hearing it out loud. Reggie chews on his toothpick thoughtfully, with just a little bit of agitation. He's not good at being comforted, and he's not much better at being comforting. Not that Derek's looking for that, but, Reggie isn't sure of what an appropriate way to respond is at all. ]

But if all that's true, then you should really be living it up more while you're here. Right?

[ Reggie apologizes for Laura, and Derek doesn't really know what to do with that. It's just - there, and he presses his lips together and nods, because what else is he supposed to do? "Yeah, she got cut in half, it sucked." He actually almost says that, but a quick glance to Reggie shows him he's uncomfortable enough already, so. Again - tight lips, tight nod. Nothing else to do. ]

One killer. My uncle. Her uncle.

[ Fucking Peter. Other than Tate, Reggie's the only person Derek's talked to about all of this, and he's not even sure why he's doing it. He kicks at some of the gravel in Reggie's driveway and hides his hands back in his pockets, flapping his jacket like it's hot just because he doesn't know what else to do with himself. He follows Reggie's lead, in the end. Talking about "living it up". ]

I'm living it up. I know it probably doesn't look like it, given that I'm such a hardass. But. I am.

[ He drops back against Stacy's Mom, the soft, supple curves of her bodacious and perfectly aged rack pressing into him. What a MILF. ]

Took a while for me to want to be around people. Then I met Tate, then I met you. Then Cass, that vampire prick. Stiles - this one kid from home - he was here, too, for a while. After a while, being around people felt pretty good. And now... I don't know. It's thrilling, being able to have people in my life that I care about. I'm happier than I've been since I was a little kid.

[ A pause. He stops kicking the ground. ]

I dunno. Sorry. Being too real. Quick, say something stupid that I can jump on and berate you for.

Y'know, I used to hang out with this guy Jason-- last year he got murdered by his dad. His twin sister still goes to my school, though. Cheryl. [ And then there's the Black Hood, and Hiram Lodge... so ironically Reggie's dad is actually quite low on the bad dad food-chain, in that sense. ] So I guess that's kind of similar. Except their dad didn't come back to life or anything, obviously.

[ Reggie hasn't really talked to anyone else about Jason, either, but it seems worth bringing up now, even if Reggie's only had friends get killed (or shot, or imprisoned), not family. It's still relevant, sort of. He glances back over to Derek, staring quietly for a few seconds before he says anything further. ]

It's okay. [ Reggie pushes his sunglasses up now, so they're resting on his hairline rather than covering his eyes. ] I don't mind. I like hearing more about you.

[ Even if he doesn't know what to do with all the information, but-- that's a lot of Reggie's experiences with friendship anyway. Moose getting shot? Hey bro, are your nurses hot? Archie in jail? Dude, we really miss you out on the football field. He's not great at expressing emotional sincerity even to the people he's close to, even when they probably need it, but he usually counts on them knowing that underneath that he still cares.

Hopefully Derek can tell, too. Or maybe hopefully not, as Reggie realizes belatedly how strangely mushy that sounds. His face colors a little, and he looks away, clearing his throat. ]

Dork.

[ It's probably strange, to see Derek as he is now and remember how he was when he and Reggie first met - he looks less like the guy who broke into houses and flashed spooky red eyes at people and more... just... normal. That dog he freaked out when he first trashed Reggie's room spent the last week sleeping on Derek's bed because he felt too guilty waking him up to ask him to move, for fuck's sake. He's grown a lot kinder, these last few months.

So his expression is soft and open when Reggie talks about Jason's dad, the news hitting him a little too close to home. He nods stiffly, because he's happy to hear about this, in some way - Reggie might not think his life has been too touched by the events of Riverdale, but losing someone you know can change a person, and Derek understands that better than anyone - but he doesn't comment. It sucks. Adults should care more about the kids who love them. Peter was an asshole, Jason's dad was an asshole. Derek's a bit of an asshole, too, but he tries really hard not to be.

Reggie tucks his glasses up and that makes Derek smile, his mood lifting by fucking leagues. It still impacts him, seeing the bruise on Reggie's eye, because he thinks of his own life, and he thinks of the lives of the people he cares about, and he knows this worry and this anxiety is going to stick to his ribs for a while yet, but. He's happy in this moment alone that Reggie trusts him enough to stop hiding. He hopes he's worthy of trust like that. ]

I like hearing more about you, too. Because I loooooove you. And we're frieeeeends and we loooooove each other.

[ He waggles his eyebrows, laughing. He totally gets that this is about as emotionally vulnerable as Reggie gets, which is part of why he's so touched, especially by the way he says dork. He wants to hug Reggie again, but he doesn't. He just stands a little closer and playfully shoulderchecks him, feeling tension ease away from his muscles. Really happy that Reggie's back. Even if it still freaks him out he was gone for a year.

Speaking of which... ]

Can't believe you're almost eighteen, Jesus. I don't know if I'm gonna be able to get you a present big enough. You got any requests? Anything you want.

[ It's definitely strange, and yet, also such a gradual transition that Reggie barely registers the difference even so. He's had a lot of relationships develop similarly, from antagonistic to tolerant to... sometimes friendship, although often they still just stay hovering around "tolerant" rather than progress much further.

Another reason why Reggie values this friendship so much, probably. They've come a long way, so far that Reggie has somehow become more comfortable sharing things with Derek that he never would with almost anyone else, not even people he's known longer. He liked the element of slight disconnect; it's easier to be more honest, the less someone knows you and really gives a fuck. So much for that, but...

Maybe it's not so bad opening up to people who do know you, too. Because aside from the risk of disappointment or judgement, it actually means something when they care. When they're proud, or happy. ]

Shut up. [ Reggie rolls his eyes, but he's grinning. ] How'm I supposed to know what I want for my 18th birthday yet? It's only like, the biggest deal ever. And I have no idea.

[ Here he still has that extra unexpected year under his belt, so the planning wouldn't have even started crossing his mind yet back home. And not knowing what he wants is kind of Reggie's brand, especially lately. ]

[ The biggest deal ever, Reggie says. Derek laughs a long, deep-suffering laugh, throwing his neck into a hard eyeroll. It's not like he's wrong, but they just had a confronting conversation that circled around heists, murder accusations and black eyes, so it's kind of funny that this is what counts as the biggest deal ever. ]

God, you're a worthless human being.

[ He shoulderchecks Reggie again, drums his hands on the car and stands up. He figures he should head out, soon, if only for Reggie's sake. Can't just keep hanging around him all day; he knows he's going to start worrying and getting worked up and feeling like shit over the bruise again, and Reggie's made it clear he doesn't want to talk about it more than he already has, so subjecting him to that freakout doesn't seem like the right thing to do. Besides - he's gotta start thinking of a present. ]

I'll think on it, then. Don't get mad at me if what I give you sucks.

Like I won't be able to tell if you just try to half-ass it-- of course I'll be mad, dude. You've got five months to get it right.

[ It's far from being the biggest deal ever, but after being here as long as Reggie has, celebrating his 18th "early" kind of is a momentous occasion. Some people fixate on anniversaries here, of when they arrived or when people they knew left, but Reggie's favorite marker of time is birthdays... and not only because he's older here than back home.

It's a very clean divide though, in a way; a solid reminder how his life here and his life there are on wholly separate planes of existence. This is his double life, his less real life, so he wants to be able to get as much fun with it while he can. Save the problems for back home. ]

But you should know what I like by now.

[ Five months isn't enough, but fine. Derek accepts that he's going to have to figure this out on his own, even though he is genuinely very afraid of disappointing Reggie or making him feel like he doesn't give enough of a shit about him to find a gift he really wants. He feels a lurch in his stomach when he thinks about how close his own birthday is, though - just gotta hope nobody starts poking around and figuring out the date. He wants to keep that shit as under wraps as he possibly can.

As for what Reggie likes, though... Derek looks at him, smiles like he's about to say something mean, then looks away like he's thought better of it. Then says it anyway. ]

All you like is dick and attention.

[ a pause. he looks back to Reggie. he SHRUGS. ]

[ It's actually a lot harder to disappoint Reggie than it might seem, at least when it comes to gift-giving; he may have the nature and upbringing of a spoiled frat boy, but he's very easy to please. His parents can give him stuff like cars and box seat concert tickets, but his friends? Reggie doesn't mind being surprised. His tastes are pretty simple, all told.

Not that he doesn't enjoy putting Derek on the spot, since he suspects he's probably already overthinking it. Probably why he responds with an obvious attempt to bait Reggie, who works his jaw slowly, from one side to the other, putting a hand on his hip while he tries very, very hard not to raise to said bait.

This fucking guy. Honestly. ]

You can't give me the same thing twice unless you're able to top the last time. But nice try.

[ He's got six years on the Derek that Reggie fucked, so yeah, he thinks he'd be able to top the last time. It takes all his willpower not to start competitively bragging about his own dick, but in the end, he just doesn't care enough to do it. With the air of trying to gross someone out, he hits Reggie with a look. ]

You'll have to ask Tate if I've gotten better. He'd know.

[ Gross, terrible. ]

I'm just gonna buy you a really shitty tie. Piss-yellow, cartoon print. Something that really says "I'm an adult now and I never paid attention in school so I'm destined to work a dead-end job and cry every time I have to do my taxes".

Ugh. Don't even go there.

[ Reggie makes a face, jaw still shifted slightly to one side and lips flat in a line as his eyes narrow. He should have expected this, obviously, but he still doesn't like it; he doesn't want to know about their personal life, especially not at the expense of his own lack of one. Gross! Terrible!!

Not that he's jealous or anything. But... well, it does get a little old. Even absolute freaks like Tate and Derek can still find someone to love them and regularly meet their needs, yet people just move right on from him. It's bogus.

He forces the annoyance off his face, cracking a wry sort of half-smirk and exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. ]

Wow, thanks, I always wanted a noose for my birthday. So thoughtful, Der. Like you're even one to talk about dead-end jobs, Mr. Broke-And-Unemployed-Til-A-Month-Ago.

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05 ▸ VIDEO. ( forward-dated to tues )

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