ghflskhu_ph (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ghflskhu_ph) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2016-08-09 11:34 pm
ghflskhu_ph) wrote in entrancelogs2016-08-09 11:34 pm
Entry tags:
We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when
Who: Closed to Bill Cipher and Stanford Pines
Where: Stanford's apartment, a clinic, and in the mutant only restrictive zones!
When: Event days August 5th-8th!
Rating: PG-13 for now. Knowing Bill, something weird probably.
Summary: Two old 'friends' reunite, 'bond' over failed projects, and share in the 'joys' of hiding a fugitive under the governments nose.
The Story:
The walk outside the clinic is always a triumphant one. Bill’s been putting off a blood check way too long, maybe now he can get his bank account unfrozen and get a proper meal in his gut! He nearly takes a triumphant fall instead when he sees the testers following him out the door.
“Hold it right there, Mr. Cipher.”
“What? You got your sample, you want a hug too--”
“The results are inconclusive… your DNA doesn’t match.”
“Hey, I’m as confused as you, but that's MUTATION’S FOR YA! Whaddiya gonna do?”
“Come in for a follow up.”
“Iiii don’t think so. SEE, I’m kind of on the ANEMIC SIDE; NEEDLES make me a bit queasy; health is AGAINST my reli--”
“You have already incurred several violations Cipher, we can’t permit you leave this residency until we lay these claims to rest. Come in and make this easy on yourself.”
“Look, I don’t NEED to prove I’m mutant, all right? THIS is what ALL DISABLED MUTANTS deal with! CHECK THE EYE; you think ‘EYE’ WANT to look like this?! Hehe! Get it? It's funny because it's wordplay-”
“Sir.”
“H-howwww do I know YOU aren't all human extremists huh? Trying to study me in place of our FINE PROFESSIONALS! Humans drink blood, right? I think humans drink blood!”
“Please come right this way, sir”
They gently beckon and Bill grits his teeth, keeping his VERY forced smile in place. He can’t fight it. Fleeing is admitting immediate guilt. Humans would throw a fit if someone was just plucked off the street… but this is a mutant only district. Who is even going to see? Bill glances around, eye catching onto a figure standing nearby.
“Now, now! I’m sure this PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE person whoinnowayshapeorformisabouttoratmeout can vouch for me!...”
That had been the conversation that led up to it all. Even now, Bill isn't entirely sure that getting out of that jam was worth it, considering the mess that followed. Good or bad, such ideas were irrelevant, one thing was for certain: the week that followed was one of the weirdest.
Where: Stanford's apartment, a clinic, and in the mutant only restrictive zones!
When: Event days August 5th-8th!
Rating: PG-13 for now. Knowing Bill, something weird probably.
Summary: Two old 'friends' reunite, 'bond' over failed projects, and share in the 'joys' of hiding a fugitive under the governments nose.
The Story:
The walk outside the clinic is always a triumphant one. Bill’s been putting off a blood check way too long, maybe now he can get his bank account unfrozen and get a proper meal in his gut! He nearly takes a triumphant fall instead when he sees the testers following him out the door.
“Hold it right there, Mr. Cipher.”
“What? You got your sample, you want a hug too--”
“The results are inconclusive… your DNA doesn’t match.”
“Hey, I’m as confused as you, but that's MUTATION’S FOR YA! Whaddiya gonna do?”
“Come in for a follow up.”
“Iiii don’t think so. SEE, I’m kind of on the ANEMIC SIDE; NEEDLES make me a bit queasy; health is AGAINST my reli--”
“You have already incurred several violations Cipher, we can’t permit you leave this residency until we lay these claims to rest. Come in and make this easy on yourself.”
“Look, I don’t NEED to prove I’m mutant, all right? THIS is what ALL DISABLED MUTANTS deal with! CHECK THE EYE; you think ‘EYE’ WANT to look like this?! Hehe! Get it? It's funny because it's wordplay-”
“Sir.”
“H-howwww do I know YOU aren't all human extremists huh? Trying to study me in place of our FINE PROFESSIONALS! Humans drink blood, right? I think humans drink blood!”
“Please come right this way, sir”
They gently beckon and Bill grits his teeth, keeping his VERY forced smile in place. He can’t fight it. Fleeing is admitting immediate guilt. Humans would throw a fit if someone was just plucked off the street… but this is a mutant only district. Who is even going to see? Bill glances around, eye catching onto a figure standing nearby.
“Now, now! I’m sure this PERFECTLY RESPECTABLE person whoinnowayshapeorformisabouttoratmeout can vouch for me!...”
That had been the conversation that led up to it all. Even now, Bill isn't entirely sure that getting out of that jam was worth it, considering the mess that followed. Good or bad, such ideas were irrelevant, one thing was for certain: the week that followed was one of the weirdest.
DAY 1: ARRIVAL
To say Ford's arrival at the clinic was a surprise would be an understatement. Bill didn't know whether to be relieved or expect the group to allow the man a chance to dispense some 'mutant justice' and drag him out to some alleyway. Which thing Bill said or what precisely he did, was lost on the human but evidently it worked because he presently found himself hanging back a couple steps while the mutant before him fished for the keys to his apartment; shoulder's stiff with apprehension.
Seriously, how long did it take to unlock a door?
No bank. No identity. No safe house. Following a mutant into their home is just about the worst possible decision Bill could be making. Human servitude among the high class was still alive and well and this was usually how those stories started- not that Bill had much pity for them. Any human submissive enough deserved whatever fate they refused to fight. Bill was far too smart to be reduced to such a pitiful object; he demonstrates such intelligence by gnawing on the plastic medical bracelet still on his wrist. They'll have to burn the darn thing to cover their tracks.
Stanford wasn't really for that sort of thing, anyway. That or Ford just wanted to murder him in the comfort of his own home. It could go either way, really!
The important thing was, there was no better option. If it was working in Bill's favor, he isn't about to spoil it. Having freakouts over morals and their own behavior was Stanford's job. Bill swore sometimes the guy practically froze up from his thoughts- which is ridiculous considering his powers should have left him more in tune with the mind than anyone else imaginable.
Ah right. That's probably what the hold up is. Bill clicks his tongue.]
"Earth to Fordsy~ You didn't erase yourself in there, did you?"