Lars (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mossbuds) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
lostcarnival2017-01-10 06:09 pm
mossbuds) wrote in lostcarnival2017-01-10 06:09 pm
Entry tags:
ITP: LARS DEALS WITH STRESS POORLY (A SHOCKER)
Who: Lars and YOUUUUUU
When: S1:D41 morning, afternoon and late night
Where: 1) home trailer, 2) ferriswheel, 3) misc right
What: Lars gets his first changes! And also, loses his mind a little! He's shaken up by changes, and also the events from the Matrix finale.
Warnings: As always, Lars's potty mouth. But also, booze?????
BTW i will mimic format- so if you wanna do prose or action either's cool
➨ 1. Holy Fuck Not This Shit (closed to Strange)
Lars wakes groggily, feeling exhausted. His sleep schedule's all fucked up—he hasn't been able to sleep well since the shooting at the Big Top, and not having work to drag his ass out of bed just makes the problem worse. Miserable as he is, on top of sleepless nights, it's so easy to just stay in bed all day. But even for Lars, it's been a lot of sleep.
Having concluded his 13 hours of recent sleep around 2pm, Lars finally pushes himself up. He then realizes his mouth feels—weird. He moves his tongue in his mouth, which feels too full, and finds his teeth feel... thinner. Horrified and suddenly very awake, Lars lurches forward, parting his mouth a little bit to touch his teeth—which are all thin, long and sharp, doubled in number.
In response, Lars lets out a pretty long, shrill scream.
➨ 2. Drown Your Sorrows (or Don't)
It has been a pretty dang shitty couple of weeks. Besides having his second harrowing near death encounter with Steven, wherein he was almost shot one or nine times, that which Lars has been anticipating with dread for several weeks has finally occurred. After following up the horrifying discovery of his first transformation with an undoubtedly infuriating exchange with his annoying roommate, Lars has decided to finally get the hell out of the trailer, for better or for worse.
Overwhelmed with despair, anxiety and this momentary anger, Lars decides to follow some very stupid advice, because he's completely at a loss. He doesn't have any friends here—besides Steven, who Lars wouldn't want to unload on (he has trouble opening up to even his best friends; he wasn't about to make a kid listen to that), and he doesn't have any sufficient distractions for his rapid firing Gen X brain. So after a few cursory inquiries, Lars gets to the cook house. And with entitled confidence, he swipes a bottle of liquor, but does wait until he's positive he won't really be caught.
He shoves into his bomber jacket side, zipping it, and squeezes it in place with his elbow as he storms out. Kind of following another thread of advice, Lars heads for the ferris wheel. It's currently unmanned, since it's off week, and Lars abuses his POWER OF KEYS!! to open up the gate around it and clamber into one of the low hanging carriages.
There, he shoves himself down on the seat, scowling. He fishes out the bottle, grumbling as he screws off the cap of it, his head a dumb echo chamber of self pity—and naturally, follows that up with a swig of what appears to be some heavy, brown liquor. His eyes immediately go wide and he sputters, only managing to swallow half his swig before he spits the rest out gracelessly. This dissolves into a bunch of coughing and a hard, full body shudder as Lars winces his eyes shut, hiding his mouth behind his sleeve as he attempts to recover.
Whyyyy do people drink this shit, actually?????
➨ 3. Panic! At the Center Stage
Having failed miserably at unwinding his tension that day, and having woken up rather late, Lars is wide awake and anxious around midnight. He made it back to his trailer earlier in the night, but is feeling restless again. He gets up, grabs his bomber and abruptly departs again.
He decides going for a walk—a sober walk (not that he'd even gotten drunk) at night in the crisp air might soothe his brain a little bit. Well, maybe. So he just anxiously strolls about at a quick, unrelated pace, his arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket with stiff, uncomfortable posture. As he's walking, he feels himself actually begin to get worse—he increases the pace of his steps to a jog as he feels his heart race for no reason.
He squeezes his eyes shut as he begins to run, veering away from the center stage in a hurry. He stops somewhere near the misc right, winded, and rests his palms on top of his knees as he hangs his head. Once he kind of catches his breath, he hiccups a little with a small sob, chin dimpling. He straightens up, putting his hands over his face as he takes a deep breath, trying to get himself to calm down so he doesn't cry in public like a complete fuckin' baby.
[ooc: for reference, he looks like this!]
When: S1:D41 morning, afternoon and late night
Where: 1) home trailer, 2) ferriswheel, 3) misc right
What: Lars gets his first changes! And also, loses his mind a little! He's shaken up by changes, and also the events from the Matrix finale.
Warnings: As always, Lars's potty mouth. But also, booze?????
BTW i will mimic format- so if you wanna do prose or action either's cool
➨ 1. Holy Fuck Not This Shit (closed to Strange)
Lars wakes groggily, feeling exhausted. His sleep schedule's all fucked up—he hasn't been able to sleep well since the shooting at the Big Top, and not having work to drag his ass out of bed just makes the problem worse. Miserable as he is, on top of sleepless nights, it's so easy to just stay in bed all day. But even for Lars, it's been a lot of sleep.
Having concluded his 13 hours of recent sleep around 2pm, Lars finally pushes himself up. He then realizes his mouth feels—weird. He moves his tongue in his mouth, which feels too full, and finds his teeth feel... thinner. Horrified and suddenly very awake, Lars lurches forward, parting his mouth a little bit to touch his teeth—which are all thin, long and sharp, doubled in number.
In response, Lars lets out a pretty long, shrill scream.
➨ 2. Drown Your Sorrows (or Don't)
It has been a pretty dang shitty couple of weeks. Besides having his second harrowing near death encounter with Steven, wherein he was almost shot one or nine times, that which Lars has been anticipating with dread for several weeks has finally occurred. After following up the horrifying discovery of his first transformation with an undoubtedly infuriating exchange with his annoying roommate, Lars has decided to finally get the hell out of the trailer, for better or for worse.
Overwhelmed with despair, anxiety and this momentary anger, Lars decides to follow some very stupid advice, because he's completely at a loss. He doesn't have any friends here—besides Steven, who Lars wouldn't want to unload on (he has trouble opening up to even his best friends; he wasn't about to make a kid listen to that), and he doesn't have any sufficient distractions for his rapid firing Gen X brain. So after a few cursory inquiries, Lars gets to the cook house. And with entitled confidence, he swipes a bottle of liquor, but does wait until he's positive he won't really be caught.
He shoves into his bomber jacket side, zipping it, and squeezes it in place with his elbow as he storms out. Kind of following another thread of advice, Lars heads for the ferris wheel. It's currently unmanned, since it's off week, and Lars abuses his POWER OF KEYS!! to open up the gate around it and clamber into one of the low hanging carriages.
There, he shoves himself down on the seat, scowling. He fishes out the bottle, grumbling as he screws off the cap of it, his head a dumb echo chamber of self pity—and naturally, follows that up with a swig of what appears to be some heavy, brown liquor. His eyes immediately go wide and he sputters, only managing to swallow half his swig before he spits the rest out gracelessly. This dissolves into a bunch of coughing and a hard, full body shudder as Lars winces his eyes shut, hiding his mouth behind his sleeve as he attempts to recover.
Whyyyy do people drink this shit, actually?????
➨ 3. Panic! At the Center Stage
Having failed miserably at unwinding his tension that day, and having woken up rather late, Lars is wide awake and anxious around midnight. He made it back to his trailer earlier in the night, but is feeling restless again. He gets up, grabs his bomber and abruptly departs again.
He decides going for a walk—a sober walk (not that he'd even gotten drunk) at night in the crisp air might soothe his brain a little bit. Well, maybe. So he just anxiously strolls about at a quick, unrelated pace, his arms shoved into the pockets of his jacket with stiff, uncomfortable posture. As he's walking, he feels himself actually begin to get worse—he increases the pace of his steps to a jog as he feels his heart race for no reason.
He squeezes his eyes shut as he begins to run, veering away from the center stage in a hurry. He stops somewhere near the misc right, winded, and rests his palms on top of his knees as he hangs his head. Once he kind of catches his breath, he hiccups a little with a small sob, chin dimpling. He straightens up, putting his hands over his face as he takes a deep breath, trying to get himself to calm down so he doesn't cry in public like a complete fuckin' baby.
[ooc: for reference, he looks like this!]
no subject
"Oh, for sure—that'd be a huge mood killer, yeah. Can't say it's done anything for me in the past," Lars retorts with a snort, annoyed that that's a thing that's even happened to him. At least it wasn't in an erotic context—Lars's expression twists a little bit, accidentally having tricked his brain into briefly imagining such a scenario with Ronaldo.
He shudders and scowls. "Eugh."
no subject
"I don't have the best eye for human aesthetic, but it seems like every other place we go has some kind of 'unearthly beauty' going for it. This season has just been slow getting started. You'll get your chance."
no subject
He pauses, then blinks. "Oh, you ain't human?" Well, obviously—no one here is, but they were. "What kinda place you from?"
If people are from all kinds of different worlds, it makes sense that they wouldn't all be human... Lars is interested to hear about a person who isn't a gem or a human, because he hadn't previously considered other types of beings as really ever existing.
no subject
"Oh, it happens," he says, his own grin more amused with Lars than enthralled with the concept. Plenty of aliens are DTF, suffice to say.
"But nah. From what I gather, I come from a place that's sort of like you're homeworld, except with a different history. Mostly involving my kind." He can't help but feels at least a little bit wistful whenever talking about his home, or the underground. It's just one of those things that never really goes away.
"We're called monsters - humanity's particular baggage with that word, aside. We come in all shapes and sizes - the real difference is that while humans are made of mostly water, monsters are made of mostly magic - and, y'know, a bit of dust here and there to keep it all together."
no subject
He listens intently through Lars's second explanation, and he raises his eyebrows in regards to the parallels.
"Damn," he concludes, leaning back with his shoulders hiked, looking impressed. "That's dope. Do humans look all weird to you?" As he asks this, Lars bounces his eyebrows.
no subject
"Sure do," he says, which is true, but without its complexity. "Never even saw a human until I was probably your age. We kept to ourselves."
Meaning they were imprisoned for thousands of years, but let's not get into that.
"But from what I hear, I'd be more familiar with your insides than your outsides," he adds with a wink.
no subject
no subject
He raises his arm as an indication of 'a skeleton', because hey, when in Rome.
"A monster body will have whatever support structure it needs when they're alive, whether it be bones or something else. But when they die, all if it turns to dust. Our bodies aren't concrete the way humans are."
no subject
While they're on the subject, he tilts his head, frowning. "In my world, it's either humans or like—gems, which are people from space. I think they're all women? Not really sure, cuz someone I know here is part gem and part human, and he's a boy. Anyway." Lars straightens up. "I don't even know if they bleed or whatever, I ain't ever even seen 'em hurt. They're definitely different, though, even if they generally look like us. And they're super annoyin'."
no subject
He laughs, especially, at that last part.
"I'm familiar. Amethyst's been my roomie for about two years now," he explains, grinning widely. "She told me a bunch of people from her home town were showin' up all of a sudden. Steven's the hybrid one, right?"
He knows Greg more than Steven, for sure, but knowing a parent means you know their children, to at least some degree.
no subject
no subject
He thinks for a moment, then adds: "Also she's pretty great about eating leftovers before they go bad."