nemorialex

[nemorialex]

Meanwhile… A few days ago… Tomorrow…

Part 1, Part 2?, Part 3, Part 4...?

Debtah Miller had a tight schedule to keep. She’d wake up in the middle of the night to share breakfast and homework help with Uncle Frenchie. She’d go to school with her cousins, despite the charm of education having long since worn off to the monotony of it all. She’d return to her uncles’ home and promptly fall asleep, curled snugly in her sopor-pocketted quilt until sometime in the middle of the next night to do it all again. 

At least, that was on school days. 

On the weekends, after much fuss and gently pleading, she’d been allowed to stay on her own, back home. The cabin was quiet without dad around, but she’d gotten used to it over the years. Bits and pieces of Alex’s were taken down and put aside for the sake of the cabin’s main resident. The witchy patio of potions was converted into a green house for plants. Most of the weaponry was stored in cases and put in a corner of the basement. Contents in the fridge were replaced with new flavors, cleaning supplies were swapped out for less fragrant ones, old appliances and furniture were upgraded as the old ones wore out. 

It was still the cabin. But was it still Alex’s? 

Did that matter? 

Their bedroom and (for the most part) the basement remained the same since Alex left planet many years ago. 

On some weekends, the longer ones, Deb would go through her parent’s things. Maybe nostalgia drove her. Maybe curiosity. Maybe even a sense of practicality, as she figured out what to do with things that no longer fit. 

Somehow, the old laptop still worked. 

And it was still logged into a few things…

[nemorialex]

The Worst Thing That Could Happen To Alex Miller

Part 1, Part 2?, Part 3, Part 4...?

It was time.

Alex had the extensive list of supplemental supplies at the ready. It was a lot, and yet there was still a need to ration food heavily. The stock was already running low, but the ingredients that they did have was already starting to go bad. Some sort of rot had taken hold of the pantry. There was no telling how long the trip would truly be still, but at least with this they could last a few extra months and still have enough to last for an emergency return trip. 

It would be simple. Alex would hop back over to Haven (check on Deb, reassure the boys that Alex and the rest of the crew were alright for the most part, just out of communication from now on, leave a proper farewell to friends,) and gather the goods they were tasked with finding. 

It would be simple. Alex had used their portal more times than they could count. It was practically second nature to get from one place to another with the use of its reality bending magic. Made by hand, perfected with practice, going from story to timeline to universe was never an issue.

So why would this be? 

Why would trying to go back, just a little ways, to the same planet in the same universe, result in…

This.

The shock was wearing off. Alex was gripping their wrist where the branding was still fresh. They were staring at the scrappy, smouldering remains of black and red thread on the floor. 

It happened quickly. The process was excruciatingly slow. 

Just as with any other trip, Alex took the portal off of their wrist- it had been converted to a bracelet, rather than a necklace ages ago for convenience sake- They took the little quarter sized dream-catcher-like charm and flicked it into the air. What would normally be a rounded, colorful white hole of reality distortion was now Dark. Cracked. Struggling to maintain it’s shape. It was shifting, like it couldn’t decide on where it was supposed to reach out to. It was shrinking and growing, newly formed and worn out at the same time. There was a burning in the air as the portal tried to take in too much input. Send too much output. There was a burning on their skin as it tried to reset and recharge in its smaller form. 

Before Alex’s eyes the Portal  tore itself into pieces. Sparks of colorful light flitted away. Bolts of green lightening lashed out. Bits of thread and branch caught flame as it all repelled away from itself. 

It was a lot to process; it would take much longer than this for it all to sink in completely, but the first impressions of the damage started to form vague, terrifying shapes in Alex’s mind. 

They couldn’t get back home. 

They had no way to reach their family. 

They were on a ship, with rapidly depleting resources, and not enough time to get back, and who knows how long to go forward. 

Alex had survived the wilderness on their own for years. They’d gone through the death of the world twice over, and been trapped in circumstances far bigger than this. But now there was no escape. 

They were on a box, in the middle of nothing, with no food and no way out. 

They could die out here.

[nemorialex]

(( I hate Alex exile. Let me out. Let me CHAT with the DASH-

[nemorialex]

Meanwhile… In the future… Yesterday…

Hmm… There seems to be an error in reaching this page. Please try again. [LOADING… 13%        ] [LOADING… 6%      ] [LOADING… 88%      ] [LOADING… 134%       ] [LOADING… 11%     ] LOAD SUCCESS: Welcome back.

The alarm blared like a siren. 

Zack squinted- glared- at the offending electronic. That he set up. Because he had to be responsible. Ugh. 

The morning routine was roughly the same: Wake up, check on kids, brew coffee, make list. If it was the weekend, he had to start plotting his Loops for church. If it was a weekday, he had to take the kids to school. And either way, he’d have to either go shopping or start cleaning around the house. It was a weekday withOUT school, which was a weird one. Some holiday or break day or… Something.

Wow. His head was throbbing. There was something missing. There was too much added. 

Wait… 

He’s already at the store? Did he even get his coffee? Looking down at his hand revealed a cold piece of crumpled paper rather than a warm wake-up coffee. What the fuck… 

Wait, no, yeah, he’s home. With coffee. He takes a sip before his head does any more fucking with him. Zack Miller’s priorities were always in order. Okay. Yeah. 

So what the fuck was that, anyway? 

He’s at the kitchen table with John, eating breakfast (when was this cooked?) And… Oh fuck. Oooooh no, he zoned out. John’s talking about something and he’s only hearing half of it. But somehow, he gets the picture, even if it only ends with “....-s that sound okay?”

“Yeah, ‘course. They can take care of it.” What? Who’s they?

The kids. What? The kids, you’re talking about your god damned kids! Oh yeah, duh. 

He knew that. 

… He knew that?

Was it hot in here? 

It was cold outside. Not like cheesy Christmas song SNOWING cold, but biting nonetheless. And he was outside, not at breakfast. What was he even DOING??

Zack… He knew. The Mage of Time absolutely knew what was going on, just not *why*. Why was it this bad. What was going on. (The alarm.) He had to figure it out, but his head hurt too much. (The sirens.) And as much as he would rather ignore this whole thing and hope it slows down, he had to ride it through. (The smoke.)

Smoke? 

Oh no. His house. His KIDS.

The fire. . . . .

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

The alarm blared like a siren. 

Zack squinted- glared- at the offending electronic. That he set up. Because he had to be responsible. Ugh. 

Something was wrong. 

Yeah, he was waking up before 11am, which means John was at work already. 

Shouldn’t he be at the kitchen table having breakfast? 

Yeah, he was right there. Across from Zack, who was having a delightful morning cup of coffee. 

For some reason that reminded him of the grocery store. 

Yeah, he was grabbing milk, right now, out of the cold case. Next he would need eggs and flour because Casey used too much later, and that– 

And it caused The- . . . . .

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

The alarm blared like a siren. 

Zack squinted- glared- at the offending electronic. That he set up. Because he had to be responsible. Ugh. 

. . . . . How many times has he lived this day already. How many more times would he see the same scenes play, out of place, disjointed and confusing and terrifying. How many times would he have to reach the conclusion that his kids- his sweet darling, amazing children- were left alone at home. For less than an hour or so. All the locks checked and all the emergency contacts were drilled into their brains. 

How many times would he return to see his home- The hard earned safe haven for his family- gone up in flames, and wonder if his kids were alright before getting launched back to the start?

How many times would he try to fix it. How many times would he fail. How many times would he live this day. How many. How. Many. Times ? ? ? ?

? ? ?

? ?

?

John was here now. 

John was holding his hand. Hugging his shoulders. He was saying something but Zack couldn’t hear the words, just the soft, comforting tone of voice. 

He felt like crying. 

...

He was crying now. 

The day was lining up like it was supposed to, one step at a time. Only now, John was there too. The alarm blares, John shuts it off. He gets out of bed, John takes him by the hand. They make each other a cup of coffee, and share breakfast at the table. They go to the store together. Every time Zack feels the jittery unease of a time skip encroaching, John rubs his arm and brings him back to the moment. 

They get all the way to the end of the day, together. 

The kids are alright, but Toby has burns. The kitchen is destroyed, but the rest of the house is structurally sound. It’s… Uneasy. But Zack finally, finally, makes it to bed in the evening. He can lay down. He can rest . . .

. .

.

The alarm blares. Zack feels sick. 

He gets out of bed. There’s a cold draft in the hall this time. 

There’s a stranger in his house. He’d recognize those horns anywhere. He should not be recognizing them so far above him. 

“Uncle Zack,” A voice, far too mature to be his sibling’s 6-year-old child’s. A voice perfect from the size of troll who was speaking. “Are you okay?”

“Deb…” He starts slowly, watching her passive reaction. His voice is wavering far more than he wanted. “How old are you?”

What a weird thing to ask! She'd been living with the Egbert-Millers for a while now, he should know this one!

“13…?”

“6.” “Huh?” “You’re six. You’re… 13.” Yeah. Of course she was 13... 7... 10... 6... 8... 

The headache was back. The headache remained. The day stayed as it should have: Linear. Orderly. Six years in the future. Which was the present. The fire was six years ago. The world moved on. Zack… Moved it. He moved on. Those events can’t hurt him. 

But 

Everything was broken now. 

Broken so much worse than he knew.

[nemorialex]

ERROR: User Offline.

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This… Was not ideal. Perhaps that good luck streak of extended internet connection has finally run dry. Just like the ship’s food supply was soon going to. Apparently.

Alex used the heels of their hands to try and press the headache out by force through the eyes. Dirk didn’t say how much food was left in the ship’s supplies, just that it wasn’t going to be enough. Or… Actually, maybe he did, and Alex had been too drained to retain the information. But Jake slowing down to feed off of them meant that the two boys ended up in the same room long enough to talk about the current situation. Technically. 

With a groan, Alex flopped backwards onto their bed and stared up at the blackout canopy’s peak. Having a troll roommate wasn’t all bad, but it did mean that accommodations had to be made in certain areas. Disturbed from its rest, Creature scuttled down from the pillow to curl on Alex’s chest. The arrhythmic purring of the polymorph was calming, and the thick fur it chose to wear was nice to pet, but it wasn’t food. It wasn’t an internet connection back home. It wasn’t a solution.

Their wrist itched. The little charm of their portal was irritated, hot and tempting. Alex held up their arm to glare at the offending jewelry. It was practically begging them… Go back home. Go back to your daughter, your brother, your Frenchie. Go back to the woods where you belong and can breathe again. Go back where you can contact the friends you’ve (figuratively and literally) been drifting away from. Quit this wild goose chase now, while it’s doomed to fail…

Go back.

Please…

The purring emanating from the thing on their chest grew louder. This warmth was real. The warmth on their wrist was probably just some… psychosomatic plea. Their discomfort and anxiety clawing for a solution. 

But they can’t give up. Alex was needed here. The boys needed to find Her. 

The arm flumped back down to their chest and Alex sighed. A heavy, weary sigh. They want to go home. But they are not going to give up so easily. Just wait; in a few days- perhaps even less!- Dirk would calculate how much food was left exactly, and how much would need to be brought back. And what kind. It was just a very large grocery list and Alex can’t go to the store until it was ready. 

It would all work out okay in the end…

In the meantime, this expansive and explorative adventure through the stars had narrowed into a tunnel. The beautiful bright light of Alex’s life so far behind and shrinking, and the unknown results around too many bends to see. 

It would be okay.  It had to be. 

That’s what they had to believe.

[nemorialex]

ERROR: User Offline.

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Part 1, Part 2?, Part 3, Part 4...?

This… Was not ideal. Perhaps that good luck streak of extended internet connection has finally run dry. Just like the ship’s food supply was soon going to. Apparently.

Alex used the heels of their hands to try and press the headache out by force through the eyes. Dirk didn’t say how much food was left in the ship’s supplies, just that it wasn’t going to be enough. Or… Actually, maybe he did, and Alex had been too drained to retain the information. But Jake slowing down to feed off of them meant that the two boys ended up in the same room long enough to talk about the current situation. Technically. 

With a groan, Alex flopped backwards onto their bed and stared up at the blackout canopy’s peak. Having a troll roommate wasn’t all bad, but it did mean that accommodations had to be made in certain areas. Disturbed from its rest, Creature scuttled down from the pillow to curl on Alex’s chest. The arrhythmic purring of the polymorph was calming, and the thick fur it chose to wear was nice to pet, but it wasn’t food. It wasn’t an internet connection back home. It wasn’t a solution.

Their wrist itched. The little charm of their portal was irritated, hot and tempting. Alex held up their arm to glare at the offending jewelry. It was practically begging them… Go back home. Go back to your daughter, your brother, your Frenchie. Go back to the woods where you belong and can breathe again. Go back where you can contact the friends you’ve (figuratively and literally) been drifting away from. Quit this wild goose chase now, while it’s doomed to fail…

Go back.

Please…

The purring emanating from the thing on their chest grew louder. This warmth was real. The warmth on their wrist was probably just some… psychosomatic plea. Their discomfort and anxiety clawing for a solution. 

But they can’t give up. Alex was needed here. The boys needed to find Her. 

The arm flumped back down to their chest and Alex sighed. A heavy, weary sigh. They want to go home. But they are not going to give up so easily. Just wait; in a few days- perhaps even less!- Dirk would calculate how much food was left exactly, and how much would need to be brought back. And what kind. It was just a very large grocery list and Alex can’t go to the store until it was ready. 

It would all work out okay in the end…

In the meantime, this expansive and explorative adventure through the stars had narrowed into a tunnel. The beautiful bright light of Alex’s life so far behind and shrinking, and the unknown results around too many bends to see. 

It would be okay.  It had to be. 

That’s what they had to believe.

[nemorialex]

No one discusses tail maintenance being so... Difficult

[nemorialex]

hi

[nemorialex]

Not my conversation, but I'd like to express my appreciation / approval for that little text face...

[nemorialex]

Hmmm...

[nemorialex]

. if shutting the fuck up waas aa job you'd aall be be broke

[nemorialex]

Yeah, I figured as much

[nemorialex]

Well, yes, usually people have control over their bodies, but sometimes the mind wanders. A bit uncontrollably at times, I might add!

It's interesting at times to see where it ends up when unbridled like that

@nemorialex

You say this as though it's not normal

Is it not? :O Most people choose what their bodies doing don't they? Or have i had the wool pulled over my eyes? Hehe.

[nemorialex]

PDA...

[nemorialex]

I'm so woefully out of the loop lately, but I'm genuinely unsure how to jump back in. Or how even to restart it all either

[nemorialex]

Who's that?

yaall remember @nemorialex ?

[nemorialex]

==> John: Ascend.