(open/closed)

[beeped]

Featuring: Richie Tozier (beeped) and you
What's happening: Various shenanigans
Day/s: March
Content warning: one prompt has character death; probable language and general warnings that come along with richie & his canon.


↝ sandpaths; open

[Switching to working as a sandpath technician has proven to be a good change for him. The fresh air, the sunlight, and physically exhausting work--it's put him in slightly better spirits. At least he keeps busy enough that he doesn't think about how much it sucks not to talk.

He can be found on various parts of the sandpaths, sometimes carrying bags of sand, sometimes slacking off.]

↝ on the search for peanut butter; closed to max

aRE YOU READY FOR AN ADVENTURE

[Everything is an adventure, but this is also a Very Important mission. Ever since hearing about the dog that left them things, Richie's wanted to find treats or something. Naturally, Max has to go with him. She was the one who knew about it first, after all!]

↝ training day; closed to frank

[Is there anything better than learning fighting, self-defense? Playing Streetfighter, probably, but this is still really great and he's extremely excited to learn a thing or two.

So much so that he's swinging a stick around like it's a katana or something while waiting for Frank.]

↝ house 11 garage; closed to housemates; cw: character death (pt 1)

[It's a normal day, inasmuch as a day can be normal in a city where the loudest loudmouth needs to be silent. Richie goes about his day, enjoys the sunshine, slugs some sand around, pats himself on the back for managing to stay quiet for so long.

Later in the day, he heads back home. The house is quiet, which he doesn't think much of at all. Instead he heads straight to his bed in the garage. He flops down on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

A flash of yellow catches his eye and he sits up. It doesn't register at first; he's just puzzled by the vibrant yellow in his otherwise dull-colored room. Richie sits up, slides off of the bed and picks it up from the bedpost.

It's only at that point that he recognizes it. A yellow raincoat, one that's too small for him. Blood-stained, missing a sleeve--

The scream that escapes his lips is one he can't control; the raincoat falls to the floor, and within seconds he's just gone.]

↝ later; reset room; open (pt 2)

[Richie doesn't remember what happened, or how he got into the reset room again. But it's unnerving, especially when he can't piece enough together at all. Eventually, he'll get around to texting one of his friends, but for a while he can't bring himself to do much more than to sit and lean against the wall.]

↝ wildcard [CYOA or contact me for plotting via pm or calaveras]

Comments

[oorah]

[ he puts the stick over one broad shoulder and gestures for richie to start down the path. they should go somewhere safer because this kid seems like the type to get himself killed. go figure. he signs: ] Fight Club. [ without knowing or caring if he'll be understood, already following closely behind the boy on the way to his house. ]

[beeped]

[Richie has no idea what Frank is talking about, which is a shame because he'd totally dig that movie if he'd been around when it came out. He'd understand a little bit more what Frank was talking about--but that's okay. He knows that he needs to follow, so that's what he does. He stays at Frank's heels until they're at the house.

Inside is definitely a good idea; he'd inevitably get himself killed otherwise.]

[oorah]

[ he leads richie back to his new digs and the new home of fight club, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder briefly to stay him before reaching out to check the hinges even though he knows they're safe. then he opens the door and ushers richie inside. he shuts the door and pushes the cotton there under the jamb with his foot. then turns around to look at the space. it's set up much the way it was at house six, a big and well-padded arena for fights in the center of the floor with muslin dummies along the side for punching and cotton hand-wraps awaiting good use. there's a giant painted skull on the wall in black, dripping down menacingly. and there's a heavy curtain that separates the fighting portion from a workshop they're still building just beyond. he lifts his eyebrows and waves the stick at the boy like ready to go? ]

[beeped]

[For a few moments, Richie is distracted by his surroundings. He's never been in a room quite like this before--then again, apart from riding his bike and required gym class, he tended to steer clear of this stuff. He's scrawny and nerdy, and up until a few months ago, all he needed to do was be able to run faster than the guys who wanted to beat him up.

Needless to say, his priorities have changed a little bit, and when he's done gaping at the room, and the painted skull in particular, he returns his attention to Frank, nodding vigorously. He's not sure how this is going to start, but he's prepared to move anyway.]

[oorah]

[ he motions for richie to join him in the ring, peeling back the rope for him so he can step inside. frank climbs in after him and waits for the boy to take on a stance. any stance. then he'll fly towards him, grabbing the boy and spinning him and holding the stick against his throat. then he whispers lowly in a deep, gravelly tone. ] Knives are for close-quarters. Never carry a weapon you're not prepared to use. And never attack someone you're not prepared to kill.

[beeped]

[It's not the best stance ever, but Richie never got far at all in his previous self-defense lessons. Frank is able to get close and on him quickly, and Richie has no time to react. It's frightening, really, and he's immensely glad that this is just learning.

He grabs at the stick to try pulling it away.] What if someone attacks you? What do you do?