entrancelogs | Open][ Eventually we all have to grow up... supposedly

Who:Seth and you
Where: Various locations.
When: Second week of August 7th- 12th
Rating: PG-13. Changed if more
Summary: Some people never learned how to deal with emotions
The Story:
If there's anything that Seth realizes he hates more than zombies and fucking culebra? It's walking up to remember shit that he doesn't remember doing, since technically it was him and it wasn't him. Absolute rock bottom in his mind?

Finding himself as some kind of damn bird and attending school of all damn things. There's nothing he can do when the events have him out of his mind, and nothing he could fight back against, and he's quickly learning that is worse than any manner of monster that can exist in Wonderland. As part of the kidnapped or an event.

So he's definitely feeling out of sorts, and unlike himself, and he's handling things the best way he knows how.

There's alcohol involved and sometimes blowing shit up. If he can find a fight? It would be the trifecta in what he's dealing with.

Or more importantly, how he's not dealing.

Drinking

Maybe it's a good thing but not all the drinking is done with a bottle, a tumbler, and drinking alone. So he's hanging out the bar, avoiding Lux a bit just so he doesn't embarrass Chloe as he is want to do. He's trying to limit himself but keep a low, angry buzz is likely no better than heavily drinking until he passes out, but at least that is what he's working on.

Blowing shit up

Sometimes he's on the beach. Sometimes in the hedge maze. There's times when he heads out to the cave. Hanging out around there? Likelihood is, Seth is either blowing things up or is setting up with some serious firepower to do just that.

Once or twice he might be set up just above the waterline on the beach, still in a suit and tie, laid out in the sand with what is fashioned after a SAW .50 cal machine gun in front of him. He's focusing on the horizon, as they can see it, firing towards it over the water. He's been careful not to put the boats in the line of fire, mostly pretending that it's seeing what might happen but it's really just enjoying the sound and the smell of gunpowder.

It is both traumatic and comforting, and he's indulging in what he can to help him cope with this.

Hangovers are fun

A couple of days, or closer to afternoons, that week Seth can be found in the kitchen cooking up a fried food bounty of eggs, bacon, sausage and hashbrowns. He's not the best cook in the world, but he isn't entirely incompetent - when it comes to cooking, at least. He's bleary eyed and looks like he hasn't saved in a couple of days, but that damn suit is still in place looking much better than he does. Of course, when the top button happens to be undone, there's an odd pendant around his neck that is new, and he's often toying with the leather and metal, vervain filled bracelet that lays beneath his cuff.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The morning after her not-quite-crisis day has Becks feeling some type of way and she wanders downstairs to find a familiar face in the kitchen. "And he cooks." She practically coos as she sits at a stool on the opposite side of the counter from his work. "No wonder you and Mags get along so well." she smirks and reaches over to grab a piece of absolutely uncooked potato from the pile to plop in her mouth. Yes, she is that person, unapologetically.

Seth is partially slumped, leaning against one hand on the counter and watching the bacon as he idly turns it with a fork. He probably should care about the popping grease, or the fact that his jacket is hanging on a chair and his shirt is undone over his undershirt, but dammit, he's too sick to care.

Glancing up, he may look a bit worn around the edges though he manages what passes for a smile. "I'm full of secrets and delights," he teases, gesturing at the plate. "And as you have, help yourself. There's some kind of rolls in the oven. I'm figuring sandwiches."

And praying it all helps in the long run. He overdid it and given it's been at least a month, he's feeling it.

"Clearly." she props her chin in her hand, a lazy half-smile on her face. "Some kind of rolls. Didn't you put them there? Shouldn't you know what you shoved in an oven?" She perks a brow at him. Seth. This can not be a safe way to kitchen.

"I opened a cabinet, found rolls. I think they're like seeded hippie sprouted things," he says, a slight smile curving his lips though his head is pounding enough not to have a great smile. It makes his head hurt too much.

"I grew up being lucky to eat more than the dollar menu, so I'm just happy to have them." He pauses, looking at her thought. "You guys even have McDonald's fast food?" He hasn't thought about that. Not until that moment mentioning the dollar menu. Not that they had them when he was a child, but a lot more cost only a dollar then.

"Hippie sprouted?" She snorts at that and shakes her head. He's a trip, but she likes him so it's not so bad.

She nods a little. "Restaurants still exist, but they're not too crowded anymore and the whole industry would collapse on itself if they stopped having takeout menus." She shrugs one shoulder. "A world full of fear of the next outbreak who rarely leave their homes aren't too prone to large gatherings. Increases the risks and all."

Seth bends to check on said sprouted hippy rolls, ensuring they were browning before looking up at her over the counter.

"Do you have any idea how easy that would make bank robberies? I mean, few tellers, few people there at one time, and a huge thre..." He stops then, making a face that may well have been apologetic. "Right. That is not how to look at a horrible, deadly outbreak that threatens a bunch of people including the woman I am totally willing to bathe in bleach for. Right."

Because for a moment there his hungover brain got back on the job rather than onto the things that really matter. "Do you feel safe with meat here?"

She laughs a little and shakes her head, "It's fine. You know, it's amazing the way people's priorities shift when the world almost ends." Becks is the least offended. She more entertained than anything by his not-quite-tangent, there.

"If I trust the person cooking it," she's very picky, but as far as Becks is concerned, Seth is sort of part of her people in Wonderland now.

"I spent all of my adult life, and most of my childhood, running numbers, pulling jobs, and then moving up to banks. It's weird to me here sometimes how little those things take up my life here." And part of why he has so much time to think about the things he shouldn't. Those with abilities. Those that were possible threats. The time he had to kill Chloe. All of it weighs on him, day in and day out.

He smirks at her, picking up a fork to turn the bacon. "Not sure that says you trust me or not," he says, not looking or sounding at all offended.

"You'd be a great Irwin, back in my world." she grins, a hint of mischief hidden behind it. Sometimes, she missed it all a lot. Sure, Wonderland is (usually) a lot less full of zombies and that's probably a good thing-- but there was something about being on a constant edge of death that made her feel more alive that just...isn't the same as the crazy stuff that goes on in Wonderland.

"You get a pass," she smirks. "and if I die by undercooked bacon, I know who to blame when I get back." Ah, yes. Gallows humor. Is there any better way to joke?

He chuckles at that. "There's a compliment in that, right? Because every time I hear one of you say it, I think about that crocodile guy. Can't ever figure out what's the same in our worlds and what's not, you know?"

Because he knows there's things that overlap, and he always finds that interesting. Also wonders what that says about their worlds and the when the differences happen. And why.

"I promise, I will do whatever I have to so that you live. If nothing else because death by Maggie is never going to be in the cards for me, okay?" Because at this point there is very little he won't do for her, and because of that, the others from their world.

"Totally," She grins, "And that's absolutely where the term came from!" She laughs. "It's just the most fitting description for people who make a living poking the walking dead things with sticks, don'tcha think?"

"Always a good rule of thumb to live by," she nods, a smirk turning one corner of mouth.

"Oh it's totally the right name," he says, chuckling at that. "So that's the same. He died being killed by some sea pancake thing in your world too?" The movies. This. It's interesting, he has to admit. A bit weird, but interesting.

"I've faced a lot of deaths, and by people I care about. That is not how I plan to go."

"Aha- A pancake what?" Her nose crinkles a little as she laughs a little at the description. "I don't really know, to be honest. It was a long time ago." Something like a decade before she was born, probably, but she won't bring that part up. The time dissonance in Wonderland was always strange.

"Fair enough." She says with an assertive nod.

The years of time difference is still something that he doesn't think about. Too much is still the same, so much still lines up, that too often Seth doesn't think about it. "And you know, those things. They're like a flat fish or something with a stabby tail." He snorts. "I live in the desert, okay?"

And he hasn't been to an aquarium or anything of the like, and the ocean was mostly the Gulf of Mexico.

He pulls the bacon from the pan, then bending to pull out the tray of rolls. "Guessing one of those English fry up things aren't something people do anymore. Used to get them at a diner after a long night." And kind of what he is emulating.

Another laugh, "Well, I'll take your word for it." She knows things are weird when they get wildly different between worlds sometimes, and it's enough to let that topic drop then and there.

She shakes her head, "Nah, not really. But it sounds delicious." And the food he's setting out smells it, too.

Open][ Eventually we all have to grow up... supposedly

{Fried food of the gods | Aug 8th

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