entrancelogs | [CLOSED]

Annie hasn't forgotten what Teatime did for her, or what she owes him. He saved her life and even though she died a few days later, that doesn't mean she should just forget about it. She said she'd pay him back, and she will. The only problem is....she doesn't know what he wants. She's not in a position to get anything like a gun or a weapon, so she decides pretty early on that she'll make him something. But what? Somehow, she doubts that a friendship bracelet will do the trick.

But...cake. Everyone likes cake, right? Who wouldn't??? So, on Friday morning Annie makes her way to the kitchen, gathers all of her ingredients and gets to work making a fancy "thank you for saving my life and not letting me get ripped apart by that hell-hound" cake.

By late afternoon, she's finished, and makes her way toward Teatime's room, cake in hand. She can only hope he'll accept it.

Teatime's door had gone without abuse for the entirety of his stay in the mansion. He made no effort to keep secret where he slept. Anyone that paid enough attention could easily figure it out. (And everyone had, if the empty rooms that still surrounded his were anything to go by.)

As someone without friends or enemies, silence was a norm. To have his door knocked upon was a sign that something had changed. Either someone was here to kill him (a distinctive possibility, despite the polite knock. It was a tactic that he himself had employed. Very dramatic when employed correctly.) or someone was here to hire him. Both options were intriguing.

Teatime slipped out of the window, shimmied over to the neighboring room, and crept back inside. He manifested behind Annie and lingered there for a moment as he studied her.

"Annie Edison," he chirped by means of announcing his presence.

Annie screamed.

It was inevitable, really. He snuck up on her, and she was already nervous as it was, being so high-strung. She never stood a chance. So, she screams and turns around, nearly throwing the cake into Teatime's face.

"Oh my god!" She let out a breath of relief when she realized it was him. "You scared me!" But that was fine. She could get over that, right? Right. She smiled at him, and then presented the cake.

"My payment! For your services."

Teatime's stare lingered on her face for several seconds longer than it had to. He was not unused to people screaming in his presence but such instances were generally concluded with a bit of knife play.

He tilted his entire head to regard her offering. "It's so pink," he stated. There was no judgement in his tone, as pink did not inspire any sort of gendered discrimination on the Disc. He found it to be somewhat odd simply because most cakes he knew were brown or cream colored. He leaned in closer and his brow furrowed. "And what are those little colorful sprigs?"

Right. That stare? Super creepy. No thanks, Teatime. But he seemed to be interested in the cake, which was good. She wasn't sure he'd take it, and then she'd have to think of something else to pay him with, and she really had no idea what that could be.

"Sprinkles!" She beamed at him. "They're just like, sugar. And I hope it's okay that it's pink...that's the only color frosting I could get from the kitchen...." Getting all of the ingredients at one time had actually been miraculous.

"The sprigs are made of sugar and they're stuck in the frosting, which is also made of sugar," he watched her closely for verification of these facts. Sugar on sugar on sugar sounded rather decadent, but then Assassins rather lived for decadence the way Wizards lived for pointy hats.

Edited 2013-11-16 04:48 (UTC)

Annie nodded, a smile growing on her face. She knew cake would work. Who wouldn't want cake? It was the best! And sprinkles were the best. Seriously.

"Um, if you let me in your room, we can actually....eat it." She shrugged. Or they could awkwardly stand in the corridor forever, but she'd prefer the cake.

Teatime looked from the cake to Annie suspiciously. In his experience, people wanted to spend as little time as possible with him. They were more likely to fling payment at his feet and book it than stick around to watch him count coins. It occurred to him that she might be here to kill him (which seemed unlikely given that she hadn't been able to defend herself from a dog) and his lips turned upward twitchily. How fun.

He sidestepped abruptly and swept the door open for her.

He was pretty weird, wasn't he? Whatever, Annie dealt with Pierce and Chang on an almost regular basis, and Teatime was easier to interact with than them. More murderous, maybe, but less inherently crazy. ...Maybe.

But she curtsied and entered his room, taking a look around.

Interactions with Teatime were always kind of weird, and so when she made her way back to her room later that night, Annie was pretty sure she was never going to get to sleep. She was too tired to make something, and too tired to concentrate on a book, so she guessed a movie would have to do. The closets being the way they were, of course, gave her the Batman trilogy, the ones Abed was obsessed with, and so the ones that gave her major nostalgia for home whenever she watched them. It was better than nothing, though, so she watched the first, and fell asleep.

She wakes on Saturday to the DVD menu looping, and ugh, why is it so loud? She turns it off, stretches, and then starts to clean everything up. She pauses when she grabs the third one, though, because she has to wonder if Blake would be interested in seeing this. It's been a long time since she's watched it, and she doesn't really remember the ending-- except maybe a big bomb exploding?-- so she could watch it again. Definitely. She puts it aside, finishes cleaning, changes her outift and then makes her way to Blake's room, hoping he's in there.

Three sharp knocks on his door, and she paints a smile on, waiting for an answer.

It's always a little bizarre to be woken up from a nap, especially when you don't remember falling asleep. Blake sits up sharply from where he passed out at his desk. A piece of tape sticks to his face and his hair's plastered all in one direction. Long night-turned-late morning sapped him of his energy, and while an impromptu nap hadn't been on his agenda, he doesn't have time to consider as much when he realizes someone's at the door.

"Comin'," he croaks, pushing up to his feet. The chair tumbles backward onto its back and John spares it a bleary-eyed glance, but ignores it in favor of blindly trying to straighten his clothes on the way to the door. One last attempt to paw at his hair is made before he opens up to find Edison.

"Annie..." A cursory glance says she's not in trouble, and then his eyes land on the DVD case. He can't tell what it is, but it doesn't seem so out of place if she caught wind of the fact that Blake had finally bothered with a TV and DVD player in his room (by way of never removing it after Dean tugged it from his closet). "Hey, ah... all's— all's well?" He's still completely oblivious of the tape on his face, yep.

Well, if Annie had known he was sleeping, she probably wouldn't have knocked so loud. Maybe... But she does feel bad! Getting woken up from a nap is pretty awful. She knows the feeling, so she turns her smile sympathetic. But she has to admit, he's still pretty cute all bleary-eyed and ruffled.

"Um, yeah, were you asleep?? I'm really sorry," she says with a little bit of a wince. "You have um-- let me just--" she reaches forward slowly to peel off the tape. Hope it doesn't hurt! She holds it up to show him before crumpling it up.

"Tape. Working on a big project or something?"

On the bright side, the tape doesn't hurt coming off. If it had been duct tape or something like that, Blake might have been in trouble. Of course, that doesn't change the fact that he has no idea where the tape came from. "Don't think I was," he admits, a wary eye tossed over his shoulder at the room itself. But then he must realize how unclear that sounds and he aims to correct. "Not— Mean, know I was sleepin', yeah, but the tape..." Blake shakes his head.

Realizing she probably doesn't want to just stand in the hallway, Blake steps aside and immediately goes to right his chair, leaving the door open for Annie to enter. "Been a while, right? Some days feel like years in this place," he comments, mostly in an off-hand way. To him, it's pretty natural to bitch and moan about Wonderland as a common enemy.

"I hope you knew you were sleeping," she says, her voice on the edge of a laugh. "Otherwise we might have to assume you were drugged or something." Not that Annie knows what it's like to drug someone. ~~Or chloroform them.~~ Ahem.

She takes a step in his room-- only somewhat awkwardly, thanks-- and gives it a quick scan. She's not looking for anything in particular, but instead is just kind of looking to look. She notices the TV and DVD player and smiles again. She looks at him when he speaks again, and nods.

"Um, yeah, a pretty long time." Since they had shadows following them around, she thinks. That was so long ago. A lifetime, it feels like. But that's also kind of dramatic. "And yeah, I get what you mean. That last event, with the mines? That one felt really long."

Surprisingly enough, it's not quite as easy as one might expect for Blake to shrug off the possibility of being drugged. Things have been a little... strange around Wonderland, at least where Blake's concerned.

"No kiddin'. Glad that's over," he says, and by now much of those remaining vestiges of sleep have passed on and leave Blake mostly awake. "Think we texted a coupla times. Jokes and whatnot." He doesn't mean to be so precise, but it's a bit shocking to think of how long it had been. They still live under the same roof, don't they? When there's a roof to speak of, that is.

"So, what's the occasion?"

If she made him uncomfortable, she doesn't notice, but instead takes another step into the room, hands squeezing the DVD. This isn't as weird as she thought it would be, which is encouraging, but it also means she's waiting for the awkward ball to drop. Which...may be be pretty soon, actually.

"So, I was trying to find something to watch yesterday, and my closet gave me this!" She holds out the DVD to him, a copy of The Dark Knight Rises.

"It's um-- in my timeline, you're actually....a character in a movie. This movie! I've seen it before, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to watch it?" She pauses, and then:

"I get it if you don't, because watching yourself might be totally weird, but um, we haven't hung out in awhile, and--" All of our friends keep disappearing, "--it's just. Been awhile."

Cue hopeful smile.

He had to pause in his observation in order to catch her smile, but catch it he did. It pinged him deep down, took his attention off the DVD he'd suddenly found in his very own hands.

"Has been a while," he agreed, eyebrows pinned tight together on his forehead. "Really sorry I haven't called." He'd been saying that more and more lately, hadn't he? It's no excuse that he's had a lot going on in his life as of late: real friendship wasn't controlled by convenience.

Without hesitation, he reached out and gave her arm an awkward squeeze. Christ, could he possibly be more awkward? Likely not. And with Annie, it was so much more pointed than with anyone else and he just didn't know why. They were so alike, weren't they? Maybe a little too alike on the level where their relationship currently sat.

No intention of allowing her to express platitudes on the subject, he moves on; an apology needs to be just and nothing more. "Um, yeah, let's—" He patted the DVD case in his hand by way of making his point. "Had a hunch somethin' like this existed, but... Yeah, yeah, let's watch. Sure."

He moved to handle the DVD player, struggling only minimally with the new technology he was still getting used to. "So, you've seen it before?" It was a compulsion to ask because he could guess where the movie might end (especially upon catching a glimpse of Bane on the back cover). Just how much did Annie really know?

They were awkward, and while Annie had worked hard to put her awkward days behind her, she was fairly certain that some of it still came through. Especially where Blake was concerned. And she didn't really know why, because he was a nice guy, and cute, yeah, but she'd had easier interactions with guys way hotter than him. (No offense, of course.) Maybe it was just that she always felt like he was paying attention to what she did instead of just looking at her (or through her) like most other guys.

Whatever it was, it wasn't made any better by the arm pat, but she smiled, ignoring the awkwardness. Maybe it'd go away on its own? Eventually?

"Um, great! I'll just..." She looked around for somewhere to sit. He didn't have like, a weird thing about people sitting in certain places, right?? Whatever. He looked like he was struggling with the DVD player anyway, so she moved to stand by him. Just in case he needed help.

"Yeah! I....don't really remember all of it," she admitted, laughing. "I think it ends with like, a big explosion or something?"

He glanced up at her from his half-crouched position in front of the DVD player, hand hovering over the button. "A big explosion..." It trailed from his lips with some amount of reverence. He remembered the moment, the exact moment. His eyes returned to the DVD this time and he pressed it into the player with some trepidation. If that was truly the case, then maybe the movie ended before he took on the role of the Batman. Before he discovered the cave.

As the DVD menu booted up, he stood and gestured to the end of the bed, taking a seat there next to the spot he offered Edison. He sat himself right on the edge of the mattress, too tense for much more comfort than that. "This is, um." A laugh escaped him; he was more than nervous at the prospect of seeing himself on that television than he was taking his exams for the damn police academy.

What if they showed everything? Christ, the movie had better not be about him in some biopic manner that generally defies convention. "Never thought I'd be famous enough for this," he finally managed, head shaking slowly back and forth. "Hope the camera doesn't add ten pounds," he said, and that alone was proof that either John Blake was learning to be incredibly vain, or he'd been hanging out with Dean Winchester a little too long.

Right. The bed. The um, sure was a place to sit. Ahem. Annie took a seat on the edge of the mattress herself, hands clasped in front of herself, resting on her lap. She was only tense because he was so tense. Which was completely understandable, considering Annie had just asked him to watch himself on television.

She laughed. "Right?" What? It seemed like an appropriate thing to say, even if it didn't mean anything. "I'm sure it doesn't." Another awkward pause, and:

"My um-- my friend Abed. He'd love this place." Well, maybe he would. "He's really into television and stuff. I bet he'd love the chance to meet everyone he watches all the time."

Though there's no telling how much anyone would like being bombarded by his questions, though. He'd probably have about a million of them. For each person.

Blake found he was interested in looking anywhere but the television. It wasn't as if he'd never seen himself on television — his connections to the Wayne Foundation guaranteed he was filmed fairly often — but if they showed the more private moments of his life...

Attempting to put the worst of his nerves to bed, he grasped the remote and focused on what Edison's words. "Guessin', based on what you're sayin', that there's more of that kinda stuff happenin' here. Like Harry Potter an' the books 'bout him." He imagined if she was familiar with anything other than the Batman, it might be Harry Potter. It had been such a craze back home, Blake wouldn't be surprised if the interest seeped through dimensions.

Ah, the power of marketing. Which happens to be something he notices about the movie as the symbol of the Batman finally shows up on screen. It's familiar, and it reminds him of the same kind of branding Bruce employs. Ffff, what a world.

Annie...doesn't actually remember much about this movie. At all. She knows that the movie's not actually about Blake specifically, though. Which she should clarify.

"Yeah, kind of like Harry Potter, but....you're not Harry Potter." Duh, Annie. Of course he's not. "I mean-- Bruce is Harry Potter. Like, the movies are about him? There are three of them, and they're kind of like...his story. This is the last one, so it's just....more about him."

Was that okay? She didn't want to like, disappoint him, or anything. If he could be disappointed about something like this. She started to realize that maybe this wasn't the best plan...

"You're in it, though! You just um. Don't play as big of a role. You know. Like a supporting character. A really important one!"

Blake shifted uncomfortably as he listened to Annie try to explain herself time and time again. Of course, he wasn't sure he was in any position to be offended considering the circumstances, especially when he didn't really want to be any kind of important supporting character.

He smirked and tried his best to give her an encouraging smile. "Think I got the inside track on the role I'll be playing in this. Don't gotta worry 'bout that," he said, hoping to at least put one of them at ease. Considering the accuracy of the last movie he'd watched, John's sneaking suspicion was that the third would be pretty on the money as well.

"Just hope it's not— Well, never mind. Other'n Harry an' James, anyone else here fictional in your universe? Musketeers, too?" On the screen, the function at Wayne Manor was monopolizing the scene, but unbeknownst to Blake, his own face would show up there soon.

She laughed, thankful for the attempt to put her at ease. This was pretty weird, right? This wasn't the best plan for a hang out, especially when they hadn't really seen each other in such a long time. Well, she guessed they just...wouldn't see each other again for awhile after this. Put a few months between each awkward encounter. That seemed smartest.

"Um..." she had to think for a minute about everyone. "Well, Harry and James, yeah. The Muskteeers... um... oh! Angel. Caroline, she's from a tv show about vampires that I've never seen. Uh.... Blaine! Blaine was from a show called Glee."

"Wait." Blake blinked several times, his attention suddenly fully on Annie. "Knew 'bout the Potters, knew 'bout the Musketeers. Dunno Caroline, but Angel's— Yeah, remember his show. Buffy's here, too, from her show, an' she's got some friends, but..." He sat up a little, straightened up as if the length of his spine mattered in that moment. "Blaine? Really?"

In all the time they'd spent together, so many days and nights just being as close as family, John never once guessed his friend might be fictional. He'd considered the option for some of the other, more extreme personalities, but never Anderson, who felt as close to real life as Blake could find in Wonderland. Smart, kind, sweet, forward, outgoing, and just your average, wonderful kid. How could he be fictional?

Blake let that settle for just a moment, his mind suddenly racing. It could have been funny if it weren't a hefty implication, and just in time for John to hear his own voice coming through the speakers of the television. Attention snapped back in the direction of the screen, he was met with an image of himself standing on a rooftop, talking almost casually with Commissioner James Gordon.

He remembered it from a different perspective. It was more recognizable when the camera angle changed, but... it was him. It was definitely him. It was exact and perfect and if he closed his eyes, the words were like echos in his head.

All at once, it hit him: what if they were all fictional? And then, the logical jump from there: how could they not all be fictional? In light of current evidence, suddenly, like time, reality had also become entirely relative. In an instant, life had teased on proving all things were possible and then a certainty that nothing was real. A veritable hot and cold reaction comes to him with that shaky hypothesis.

John was to his feet in a second. The television screen turned black and Blake stood with his back to it, remote control in hand. He looked at Annie, eyebrows drawn, expression apologetic. "Sorry, I-I— don't think I can— This is a little— gonna take me a bit to swallow. Thinkin' I oughta...." He swallowed (somehow instantly proving himself wrong), gaze sliding downward to focus on the floor. "Might need some time on this, Annie. Real sorry 'bout—" A gesture, something a little unsure even for John. "Y'know... this."

Edited 2013-10-26 18:21 (UTC)

Annie didn't think of it quite like that. Fictional was such a harsh word and such an awful way to think of yourself. She liked Abed's timeline theory much better. In some places she was "real" or "non-fictional" and in some she didn't even exist. It wasn't a nice thought, and she didn't find any comfort in it, but it was... Well, it was what it was. It was better than being fake. Better than not being real. Right??

And she probably shouldn't have mentioned Blaine. She knew they were friends, and it'd really suck to find out something like that if you weren't expecting it. (But on the other hand... what did he think Blaine was? A person from his world? Wouldn't he be able to tell otherwise??) But still. She knew she messed up, so it wasn't surprising when he stood up to shoo her out.

"Yeah, um-- no problem!" She stood herself, debating on whether or not to ask for the DVD back. Nah, forget it. "Um, you just keep that. In case you...whatever." Ever want to watch it without me here, she thought.

"I'll um-- I'll see you later."

Almost instantly, Blake felt awful. He didn't want Annie to go thinking she'd done wrong, but the way everything was hitting him at that moment dictated a need for space. He opened his mouth to protest her exit, but considering he'd already done the damage, Blake guessed he might be better served asking for forgiveness later.

"Sorry," he managed again, head hanging a little heavy. He nodded a little, casting a glance back at the DVD player. He'd definitely get back to Annie on the movie. Maybe not that particular movie, but a movie nonetheless.

And as she walked out the door he chastised himself for making a fool of the both of them. It wasn't a good way to make friends, and a worse way to keep them, but he'd made the decision and only time would tell if it would make any real difference between them.

[CLOSED]

FRIDAY -- TEATIME

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SATURDAY -- BLAKE

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