fandomtownies | The streets of Fandom, near the park, Friday evening

Sparkle had just been out for a smoke, dammit. He didn't get out much these days, he was still jumping at shadows, but this evening had seemed like a nice enough night. And if he was being at all honest with himself, he was outside trying to talk himself out of stepping off the island and making off with twice his body weight in cheese.

Which he might even get to yet.

But right now? Right now there was some guy appearing on the street out of fucking nowhere, and it was dark, but not too dark for Sparkle to catch the red as he fell to the ground.

He had enough time to swear and look around with wide eyes to make sure nothing was going to jump out and try to eat him, and by the time he was finished doing that, his feet were already slapping cobblestones below him, running to see if the person was at the very least still alive.

"Holy shit, are you okay?"

Clearly no, but he was more going for 'responsive,' here, anyway.

"Huh?" Peter blinked up at the guy there. Human, it looked like, and...well, he didn't look like he was dealing with anything worse than a strange, bloody guy showing up. So yeah, definitely not Hell or anything similar.

Oh, and he'd asked a question. Peter frowned, remembering it, then chuckled at the absurdity of it. "I've been better." He got his hands under him and started pushing himself off the street.

"No kidding," Sparkle replied, crouching down and offering the guy a hand - he'd notice just how pretty he was when he wasn't busy being concerned that he was about to just, like, die on the spot or something. "Take it easy, man. There's, like, a you-shaped smear on the street, here. You've clearly been through some shit."

"You could say that." Peter took that hand and staggered to his feet, nodding his thanks. "Where am I?"

"You've basically stumbled into Crazytown, U.S.A." Sparkle's voice was sympathetic, at least, as he kept close, just in case this guy's legs didn't decide to suddenly cooperate. "Fandom Island. Not actually currently anywhere near the States, but that's okay, I'll take cheese over psycho political orange people any day."

A beat.

"We're parked on a cheese planet. Yes, that is fucked up, no, I'm not crazy. Uh. Should you even be standing right now?"

"I'll be okay," Peter said. "I think." Except for the fact that none of that made sense. "We're in the US, but on a cheese planet, which is better than orange people?"

On the down side, Peter's world had been invaded by demons. On the up side, they didn't have Trump. It was a tradeoff.

It really was. If Sparkle had his way, he'd take the demon planet over the Trump one, and then live in Canada anyway.

"Some asshole with too much spray tan, don't worry about it right now." He frowned a bit. "Look, man, if there's anything I can do to help, like, you're a fucking mess right now, and I mean that in the nicest way."

He really did.

"Thanks," Peter said wryly. "I could really use..." Blood, but that seemed like a bit much to ask at first. A way home, but that was unlikely. Focus, Peter. "Is there someplace I could shower, and maybe rest? A hostel or something?"

Edited 2016-07-23 02:40 (UTC)

Sparkle worried at his lip for a moment, and then nodded.

"Here, I'll walk you to the hotel and check you in. You're here with just the clothes on your back, aren't you?"

And not even much in the way of those, from the look of it.

"We don't... really have a hostel or anything. I mean, people don't usually come here for vacation or whatever. Small town. Weird town. But the hotel's got showers and comfortable beds and food, and I can get you some clothes if you need."

He had considered for all of a half a second bringing the guy home and letting him crash in his bed or something. But his common sense tore through screaming, pointing out that he didn't even know this guy's name, and Sparkle wasn't big on taking unnecessary chances these days.

Congratulations; Sparkle actually had some sense of self-preservation. That was more than a lot of folks Peter could mention.

"Just those," Peter agreed. He could fix them, and himself, given enough time, but he was still a bit woozy from the poison, not to mention being torn apart. And traveling through dimensions twice hadn't really helped much. "All my money's back...Home. Somewhere. Maybe."

How long was it till you got declared officially dead? Did it count if you were seen diving into Hell?

"You don't have to do that. I'm sure I can manage."

Edited 2016-07-23 02:53 (UTC)

"Yeah, man. No offense, but you don't look like you're doing so great with the managing thing right now." He pointed a thumb down the street, toward the Arms. "So we're going to hook you up with a room, I'll give whoever's at the desk my number in case you need anything while you're there, and you're going to, like, clean up and sleep in a bed, okay? I'll cover it. Pay me back later if it really bugs you."

He understood pride. He had no small share of it himself.

"I run the clothing store in town. I can, like, get you decent clothes that actually fit for basically nothing, you don't even have to worry about being saddled with my screwed-up hand-me-downs, either."

That actually got a laugh from Peter; this guy was easily a foot shorter than him. "Probably just as well." He looked the direction the guy had indicated, then started that way. "I really will manage," he promised.

Then, as it occurred to him he should probably know his helper's name, "I'm Peter. Peter Octavian."

Hey, the laugh was good to hear, at least. Probably not a bad sign coming from a man who had been plastered to the cobblestones five minutes ago.

"Hey, Peter," Sparkle replied, giving him a little smirk as he kept easy pace with him. "Congratulations, you can now tell the world you were hauled off the ground and shown to a hotel by some kid named Sparkle."

If he made light of his name, other people didn't get the chance to blindside him with it. A lot of what Sparkle did came out of little things like that. The way he was keeping to the side of the street that the lampposts illuminated best was another one.

And why he couldn't just leave some weird guy bleeding on the road.

"That may actually be a first for me," Peter said. There weren't many of those anymore. He honestly didn't notice the light thing; he just figured humans needed light.

He really appreciated the not leaving him bleeding on the road, though. Even if it seemed a little weird. "Do you pick strange guys up off the street often?"

No, he wasn't conscious of that double-entendre; he wasn't quite that well off yet.

Sparkle gave a little snort at that. He certainly noticed it, that was just the way he was wired, but he wasn't going to point it out to some guy who had clearly had a shitty day.

"Only when they look like they've been hit by a bus," he promised. "It's... I don't know. The decent thing to do or something."

He wouldn't have been able to live with his conscience if he'd just left the guy.

"Thank you," Peter said. He scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand, grimacing as his fingers caught in the blood caked in his hair. He felt just a bit awkward at all this. "Guess I'm not used to people being decent much."

"Yeah, well... don't worry about it," Sparkle replied, shrugging. "You'll get a lot of that around here. It's like people go out of their way to be weirdly optimistic and helpful. It's kind of fucked up."

Hey look! Sparkle's paranoia!

"Must be a small town thing."

"Not all small towns," Peter answered vaguely. He couldn't remember any specific small towns at the moment, but he didn't remember them being like that.

He frowned again. "You do it, but you think it's fucked up?"

"Yeah, well... maybe this place is rubbing off on me, too, and I just haven't drank enough of the Kool-aid to think it's normal," Sparkle replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Or maybe I'm included in the big 'fucked up' category now, too. I don't know. I'm just not going to leave some guy to bleed to death in the street, anyway."

Peter wasn't going to comment on things he couldn't judge. "I'm done bleeding. I think." He seemed to keep saying that, but there was so much he still wasn't sure about. "But thanks anyway."

"I don't think you'll be able to tell until you get cleaned up," Sparkle noted. "Not with that much blood."

And with that much blood, it was a wonder he wasn't dead. Sparkle eyed him thoughtfully as they walked.

"Is it all yours?"

That seemed like important question number one, anyway.

Peter glanced down; the actual blood was almost entirely his, but there were assorted ichors splattered over him, too, and he doubted a human could see the difference in colors in this lighting. "Not all of it." Then, worried how that might sound, "There was a battle. I'm not a murderer or anything."

Sparkle chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. Yeah, this guy was bigger than him, but right now he looked a bit like he'd fall over if there was a stiff breeze. He'd worry about whether he was a murderous psychopath... later.

And then maybe hide behind somebody else if he was.

"Well, you haven't made a lunge at me or tried to lure me into a dark alley or anything yet, so I guess I'll take your word for it," he decided. "I know what the aftermath of a battle looks like, anyway. It would've been my first guess."

Peter winced. This had seemed like a quiet place. He was used to looks being deceiving, but he'd still hoped. "Are we in danger here?"

"Nah, not really. Fandom's mostly just weird." He glanced at Peter and shrugged. "But a lot of the people here come from dangerous places. And every now and again something hits the island hard, but it doesn't usually take long to get rid of it. I've only seen stuff like that get bloody a couple of times."

He never would have come back if it was like that constantly.

"Full disclosure, though. If you stick around, you will start questioning your sanity."

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