maskormenace | video;

[ Here's Carl, looking a little older last time he posted a video network. He's sitting down on the couch, staring straight at the camera. His hair is a shaggy mess, but apparently that's all the rage. Back home. Where brushing one's hair is not mandatory in interacting in normal, sane human beings. ]

So. Um, hi.

So I kinda went dark cause I went back home. Is it weird to think coming back home to where there is the end of the world, like something you really need? Man I dunno, that sounds really really bad. Worst than it sounds. I'm not good with this.

[ He starts to tug at his fingers, one joint at a time, while he rethinks on his next words. ]

Like, I go home and I find this place after living like a nomad in the woods for god knows how long. Totally untouched. Perfect suburbia. Full of homemakers. People on the porch enjoying their smokes. I didn't fit in. It felt like living in a dream, and I kept expecting to wake up. Totally surreal.

[ He stops his idle finger tugging. He folds them together. ]

I guess what I'm saying is that - I don't feel bad living here. Because for a long time here, I thought there was something wrong with me for not living this world like I ought to. I even try to seek actual medical help on that. [ And that went as well as being nibbled by a walker. ] But I go back home and experience the same thing, and that feeling of the heebie jeebies and it's like - nah, I'm not the freak here.

[ He gives a small, ironic smile at the camera. ]

It's everyone else, honestly.

[ A bad attempt at a joke. He leans back, hands on his knees, gripping tightly. ]

Also today is my birthday. We don't really celebrate birthdays back home since calendars aren't being published anymore. I'm amazed I can still remember mine - sometimes I forget how old I am, honestly. Pretty sure I'm 15. Or I'm approaching 16, depending if I'm adding up the months I've spent back home plus here. My math skills only go as far as multiplying and dividing nowadays.

[ Carl gives a small shrug. He looks a little more sure of himself now, although it is a different kind of confidence. There are still a ways a go before he's actually in peace with himself. ]

At least I know I'm too old for trick or treating, that's for sure.

[ Whether or not he would actually celebrate Halloween, on the other hand, is a little different. ]

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[Aw, awkward kid, never stop being oddly endearing in a apocalyptic murderer kinda way.]

Happy birthday, kid. Never be ashamed to live life however the hell you want.

Yeah, it's something I gotta . . . not let bother me. No one is gonna 100% get it.

...although can I get away with trick or treating?

Don't see why not. Comes with the whole 'living your own life' package deal. Never to old to trick or treat if that's what you wanna do.

[Not that you'd catch Jeff doing it, he's got a reputation to uphold!]

Well, you're younger than some of those who've knocked my door searching for candy. But if you believe trick or treating is all there is to the Devil's Holiday, then... Well, you must be taught. The practice is believed to have roots in a medieval practice called Mumming. But perhaps you can start by lighting a candle on the grave of your mother.

Edited 2015-10-19 13:58 (UTC)

[ And almost immediately Carl's good mood is completely gone. The crawling, twisty sensation strikes down Carl's spine like lightning hitting a tree. ]

Don't talk to me as though we are acquaintances or whatever. Not after what you've done.

I suppose if someone asks me if I'm too old, I just tell them the truth that I have real no idea.

No way, that's not how you Halloween! If someone asks if you're too old, throw eggs at their house.

I do remember toilet paper is a thing. Is it still a thing?

[What an unfortunate thing it is that Crane can't see that, huh? And his mood is good, thanks for asking. He's sitting cross-legged on his bunk, thinking how interesting this chat shall become. Or perhaps he's trying to scale Carl's pain.]

Well, we are acquainted, you know. And I haven't done anything. [He sniffs.] It must have been someone else.

TPing is still totally a thing. Give 'em the double whammy.

Bullshit. What do you want?

[ Carl is trying his best to ignore Crane's comment about his mother. He doesn't know her. He never had to put a bullet to her head. ]

Edited 2015-10-19 14:18 (UTC)

What about those paintball gun things? Although those might break a window.

Well, it is your birthday. Usually one wishes happy returns on such an occasion. Happy birthday, Carl.

[Happy returns. Yeah.]

Having a walker show up in my dorm is a better birthday greeting than yours.

And what do you really want, huh? You said so yourself I'm a disappointment. Why contact me now?

[Because he needs to see him suffer. He needs to hear him scream. People like this child believe it's safe to laugh at him. That he cannot fight back. That there are no consequences. Oh, they shall hurt.]

The good doctor is well respected for his polite devotion to his patients. He scheduled an appointment to check on your mental health.

[ Carl has never laughed at Crane. He doesn't understand Crane, before and after the gas attack, but never once did Carl find Crane to be remotely funny. Before the attack, he was just something Carl was trying to find trust in, a part of civilization that Carl has never learned before. After . . . after the attack, Crane is one of the threatening shadows in Carl's nightmares, reminding him along with the marauders and Gareth, that deep down, he's no different. That he can be somebody else's shadow in their nightmares. ]

Is this your way of saying you want me to visit you?

[Hardly. This network gives him the attention he needs for his work. He doesn't mind solitude. In fact, he welcomes it.]

Interesting. I was referring to this conversation, Carl. But if you wish to visit, you are more than welcome.

Not likely.

[ But he cannot ignore the fact that Crane scares him. How he just rips minds apart with ease, and all without a dagger in hand. A lot of things scares Carl back home, but he had to confront it anyway. Being here doesn't excuse it - if anything, it makes it even more important. This world is more chaotic than it is back home, and that is a huge feat by and large. Crane is not going to be in jail forever, and soon enough he will walk free, no matter how many times people claim they will keep track of him.

Sooner or later, Carl will be meeting Crane face to face, maybe during a time where he is at most vulnerable. Carl now has a chance to look at Crane and be able to walk away without hearing the screams. ]

Happy birthday. In my own experience, going home and coming back often feels - jarring.

[Living on an actual meteor and then coming back to an actual house is weird. ]

Not bad, but it does cause the head to spin a little. Circumstances are never the same between here and home, are they? And honestly, you are never too old for trick or treating. Trust me.

Ever get caught? Trick or treating, I mean.

Are they paintballing for Halloween now? Then yes. All the paintballs ever. Especially red.

I dunno. That's just something I've made up out in thin air.

[ Oh, hey. It's that kid he tangled with at the swear-in. Will he even remember? Robin adjusts his sunglasses and gives him a little wave. ]

We get used to our circumstances, whatever they might be. I don't think there's one definition of normal that applies to everyone, no matter what people would like us to think. There's nothing wrong with that.

[ Chances are, Carl won't. He would remember a costumed hero as a rotten corpse, trying to eat him alive, but nothing else. ]

Yeah. It . . . just took me nearly a year to figure that out. Kinda stupid, in a way.

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