i. arrival, adjustment, introductions

[demiurgency]

WHO: Billy Kaplan
WHERE: South Village fountain, Inn, schoolhouse
WHEN: November 20 through the following few days
OPEN TO: Starters for Tommy Shepherd and Wanda Maximoff, OTA for the rest
WARNINGS: Nada so far!

---

[Arrival-closed to Tommy]

He isn't expecting this dimension to be underwater. None of the rest of them have been underwater--well, there had been that one, the sunken New York filled with Atlanteans, but there had been a dome, and there was still air. Maybe that's why he's surprised to open his mouth to breathe and find nothing but water instead. The panic kicks in before he begins to choke, and Billy desperately kicks for the surface--surface? That's gotta be the surface, right--not even thinking to reach for his magic. He can't cast a spell if he can't speak, after all, and so he kicks with all he has, not even thinking about how easy it actually is, not thinking about how his cloak should be dragging him down, until he finally breaches the surface, gasping and choking. Flailing, wildly, he looks around. What is this? A fountain? That's a first. And where are the others?

Kicking for the side of the fountain, Billy hauls himself over the edge and is crouching on the cool stones next to the lip when he notices the next weird thing. He isn't wearing his costume anymore. He's wearing...green scrubs? Like, hospital scrubs? There's no sign of his cloak anywhere. Or his suit. Or any of the others. Standing and pushing his dripping hair off of his face, Billy lifts his hands to cup them to his mouth. It's not the best idea, but then, what is, these days? Has he had any good ideas since that last, first, most terrible idea, months ago now?

"Kate! Noh-Varr! David!! America!!! Any of you out there??" After a pause with no answer to his shouting, he tries again, with the least likely to respond, and the most likely to be the reason he's here in the first place. "Loki??? Anyone????"

[Introductions-closed to Wanda]

Okay. It's okay. He can do this. He can totally do this.

The internal pep talk doesn't really work. He's still standing there on that porch, hand lifted to knock but not quite there yet. Tommy had explained it all: alternate dimension, bunch of people there, no one from their home universe, but a bunch of familiar names from different versions. Including her. Wanda. The Scarlet Witch. He knows she isn't the same, but the lack of his magic is already an ache deep in his chest, a hollow he can't quite seem to ignore. If anyone would understand, it's her. Whatever version of her she is, he knows she'd understand. And Tommy's already told her about their own connection to her--the other version of her, anyway. It shouldn't be that hard.

Come on, dummy, knock before someone sees you standing here like a creep.

Taking a deep breath, Billy knocks on the door of House 20, weight shifting from foot to foot as he waits for someone to answer the door.

[Adjustment-OTA]

After getting the full rundown from Tommy (and maybe having several mild panic attacks in a row about most of it), Billy eventually settles on a plan. First things first, to the Inn. He needs to eat something, and he's heard there's a stockpile of clothes there, which is good because a. it's kind of freezing, and b. he's just given away his dry set of green scrubs to his brother. Thankfully, there's a small assortment of things that are both dry and warm, and after a quick change, Billy's back downstairs to spend some time just...figuring things out.

The best place to do that seems to be the schoolhouse, honestly; he's never been the outdoorsy type, and there is a lot to learn. The reading helps. This place has a book on everything. It also keeps him distracted. No thinking about the loss of his magic, no thinking about the loss of his friends, no thinking about Teddy or the dozen or so sick people now apparently recovering from a plague or something just up the road. Instead, just books. Billy reads like he's cramming for the SATs all over again, and for the next few days after he arrives, chances are you'll find him traveling back and forth in a triangle between House 58, the Inn, and the schoolhouse, nose buried in a book no matter where he is. He's probably not even watching where he's walking, honestly--sorry about that, whoops.

Comments

also the schoolhouse ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[scathefires]

Jason also spends a lot of time picking out books to read and absorb from the weird library the village had been given, so his trips to the schoolhouse are frequent. Today's selections are beginner's guides on spinning with a drop spindle, croquet, and embroidery.

They all go clattering to the floor when Jason accidentally collides with Billy. Looks like the former Boy Wonder let his guard down for a moment and wasn't paying attention to where he was going, either. Expression pinched with mild irritation, he sighs loudly and bends to pick up the scattered books.

"Well, your roadblock impersonation is definitely up to snuff," he drawls, dry as a goddamn desert.

welp ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[demiurgency]

He really has to stop doing this. One moment he's walking along, face buried in a book, memorizing the spot patterns on poisonous mushrooms native to Oregon, and the next it feels like he's walked straight into a brick wall, book rebounding upward and cracking him across the nose. Billy stumbles back with an oof, lifting a hand to rub at the sharply aching bridge of his nose. He should have been watching where he was going, and he should apologize, but that dry tone just rubs him the wrong way, and he's answering before he can think twice about it.

"You're one to talk, jeez," he mutters, bending to pick up his own dropped books, scattered in his bounce and rebound. A book on woodcraft, a book on knots, a book on--embroidery?? "This isn't mine," he says, holding it and looking at the cover critically. Are those daisies??

[scathefires]

"It's mine," Jason snaps, reaching to snatch the book back out of Billy's hand. That critical look on his face doesn't sit well with Jason - he's never bought into that toxic masculinity bullshit, so it's not that he's embarrassed about showing an interest in something so typically "girly" as embroidery. It's more that he feels like he's being judged and found wanting, and he hates that from people he knows, but he doesn't have the patience to field it from a complete stranger.

"Talk to me once you've been here long enough to sort through the library by interest and see if you don't start picking books at random just to keep the boredom at bay."

[demiurgency]

Wow, okay, touchy. Billy can't help the irritated look on his face as he stands back up, holding his stack of books to his chest. Jason's super defense-through-aggression stance is reminding him way too much of moments in high school he'd rather forget. The critical look on his face had only been for the 'Bless This Mess' sampler displayed on the cover, honestly, but he's way too used to guys like Jason feeling too sensitive about their masculinity.

"I'm a little too worried about surviving winter to start worrying about being bored, thanks," is his slightly acidic retort. "And there's nothing wrong with learning embroidery because you want to." But sure, you're just bored. Ugh.

[scathefires]

Jason scoffs loudly, managing to fold his arms across his chest while still holding onto the books. “What, do they not have winter in your part of Westeros?” He shrugs and rolls his eyes. “Ain’t hard to figure out how to deal with cold if you’ve got at least half a brain.”

That’s right, he’s read a book or two before. Deal with it, kiddo.

[demiurgency]

He does blink at the mention of Westeros--did he mishear, or???--but the rest of Jason's sentence paired with that eyeroll take Billy's irritated look and take it straight into a scowl.

"It's not just about the cold, and I'm not an idiot, thanks. There's a greenhouse and crops, but what if they don't have enough food to get us through winter? What if people get sick again, like they are now, and there's not enough hunters? What about, oh, I don't know, blizzards and weatherproofing ancient houses without actual tools and the dozen other things that could happen? We didn't all go to wilderness camp or wherever you came from, so sorry if that makes me too dumb for you."

[scathefires]

Well, that sure was a rant, and this kid sure seems highly strung. Jason raises an eyebrow but otherwise offers no visible change to his expression in response.

"I came from living on the streets," he deadpans. "Never could quite come up with the cash for stuff like summer camps." No need to sugarcoat the truth, if this is how this conversation is going down.

"You must be new here, or else you'd know that there's plenty of hunters around - I happen to be one of 'em. The people taking care of the crops and the greenhouse are competent enough to make sure no one starves, and if people get sick, there's medical types around. Maybe they don't have all the newfangled medical equipment you're used to, but they know what they're doing. We didn't lose anyone yet. And as for the weather" - he shrugs - "you can't control that. If it snows, you deal with it. Bundle up, keep a fire going, conserve body heat."

Jason sounds calm enough, but these are far from ideal circumstances. But worrying about everything that could go wrong is wasted effort.

"Listen, kid, there's dozens of ways to die every day, from the minute you wake up. The only thing you're gonna get from worrying about 'em all is an ulcer. Try to relax a little, OK?" Like Jason would know how to relax. "Maybe try picking one thing to worry about that you can actually do something about."

[demiurgency]

Highly strung is maybe an understatement. Billy's been here three days, he's lost his magic, half the village is currently in the hospital next door suffering through high fevers and violent hallucinations because the only cure for a plague was snake venom apparently, and before that, it'd been literal months since he'd been home after summoning an interdimensional parasite masquerading as his boyfriend's mom. Ex-boyfriend's mom. The point being, this stress? Has been building for a very long time. And Jason's responses--while maybe making him feel a touch guilty about how quick he was to start sniping--definitely aren't helping.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He indicates his own stack of books, on foraging and first aid, for the most part, and while his voice is still tense, it's a little closer to civil. "Look, maybe 'relax and don't worry so much about it' works for you, but all I can think about is how little I know about this place and all the things I can't do anymore, so if it's all the same to you, I'm gonna keep worrying, because that's what's gonna keep me and my brother alive." Tommy's been doing just fine here, Billy can see that, but it still doesn't make him worry any less. And there's Wanda, who's been great, and this place definitely seems like it has a lot of people who won't let anyone struggle too hard, but...he doesn't like not being able to do anything. He's so tired of feeling useless.

[scathefires]

"What I think is you're giving yourself a meltdown," Jason answers, bluntly, then holds his hands up in mock surrender. "But hey, I'm no mind reader, and even if I was, the assholes running this place would've taken that ability away from me. Apparently, that's one of the fun perks of getting dragged here." None of Jason's abilities are supernatural in origin, only acquired through hard work and incessant practice, and that's a small silver lining to being stuck in this place. He drops his arms back down to his sides again and shrugs.

"Do whatever you want, kid. If the ulcer-and-wrinkles lifestyle works for you, then keep it up. Just maybe try not to take my head off while you're worrying about all the things that can possibly go wrong in a place that was wrong to begin with."

[demiurgency]

"Right. Fun and exciting times at clone high," Billy mutters, shaking his head. That's a fun theory he's heard floating around. Of course, he's pretty sure it's not actually the reason they don't have their powers--they aren't gone, just blocked, that's what Wanda said, remember Billy--but it's still an unsettling one. Definitely not the kind of thing he intends on talking to some stranger about, though, and Billy shakes his head again.

"I'm dealing the only way I know how. It's kept me alive so far. So I appreciate you worrying about my wrinkles and ulcers, but I think I'm good." The terse response is just this side of sarcasm, defensive as hell, and he hates himself a little for how he sounds--real mature, Kaplan, way to go--but he can't help it. He's on edge, he's reeling without his magic, and he just...can't handle anything that reminds him even a little of the years before he got his magic now. He just can't.

[scathefires]

It's not like Jason has a leg to stand on when it comes to talking about techniques for coping with stress - his typically involve blood and broken bones at minimum, if not an outright body count. Getting a little snippy with a stranger is fairly low on the scale of offenses.

And something about what Billy says - I'm dealing the only way I know how. It's kept me alive so far. - something about that string of words resonates with Jason. How many times has he thought the exact same thing, or close to it, justifying his actions to himself? Hadn't he said more or less those same words to Bruce in defense of some display of excessive force on the job or other? Jason can clearly see the kid's scared, anxious, maybe a little sheltered -
probably never been in a bad situation like this before in his entire life. Jason had to learn the brutal realities of the world much too young, but even he knows that isn't normal, or at least it shouldn't be. That resonating, discomfiting echo softens the ever-present impulse to fight, to fight back, and Jason - he decides for once to let it go.

"Have fun being good," he says, and turns to leave. He's done here.