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[othersdie]

[Justin, unaffected by the cold induced by sitting near the fountain that the City had seen fit to drop him into during winter, finally tires of waiting for what he’s convinced what must be a trick of the mind to dissipate and resolve itself into the nothingness of death. For a lack of any other distractions, he fumbles with the device he had found in his pocket earlier.

He doesn’t fully understand why he would bother hallucinating what resembles a camcorder. The brain is truly a strange and unfathomable thing.]

Am I dead yet?

[It’s a ridiculous question. He still exists enough to imagine things; the answer is clearly no.]

If not--if not, I hope this doesn't last long.

Comments

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[He listens without commenting, trying to imagine spending years here--trying not to imagine Richard here, because that would be nightmarish. All imagining comes to an abrupt halt when Neil mentions his death.]

I'm-- [What? What to say to someone who just said they were dead? Justin wouldn't mind a congratulations if their roles were reversed, but Neil clearly views death and suicide differently. He seems... regretful?] I'm sorry.

[hesitantly] This is a second chance to you.

[had_not_lived]

It is, [he affirms, visibly a bit embarrassed.]

I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have told you all this right now. You just got here, after all.

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

A second chance to live.

[Surely Neil couldn't mean anything else, but he's trying to understand.]

No, don't--it's fine. I'd... if we were friends, I'd like to know. To make it easier to... I mean, if we were friends, I want to know. So we could be friends again. If you want.

[That sounds pathetic even to Justin. On the bright side, Neil probably already knows he's pathetic.]

[had_not_lived]

[Neil isn't fazed.]

I still think of us as friends. Whether or not you remember... well, we have time to talk, I'm sure. If you want-- unless you'd rather not-- you can stay with me and Todd, as long as you need to.

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said. Ever. Neil, you are an enigma.]

If it's not problematic...

[Wait.]

I knew someone named Todd. Or so he says.

[had_not_lived]

That's probably him,

[Neil laughs, before looking a little worried.]

I should've asked him if he wanted to come walk with us, probably...

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

You should at least ask him if he minds harboring a murderer for a time.

[had_not_lived]

You're a friend of ours, I'm sure he'll feel the same way I do.

[But he's not wrong; Neil ought to ask about that, too. It's just that he's so sure Todd won't mind, so it doesn't seem necessary. Still, he looks a little subdued.

And of course, there are other considerations.]

I should probably mention...

[His cheeks are flushed in a way that has nothing to do with the cold.]

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[Curiouser and curiouser. There is clearly something significant that Justin doesn't know. Remember. Whichever.]

What? [more gently] I doubt that anything you say will surprise me, and I'm not in a position to judge.

[had_not_lived]

It's just not something I talk about.

[Ever. Though Justin's been privy to more of that conversation than perhaps anyone other than Todd.]

But, if you're going to stay with us, you may as well know. We're... together.

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[Justin would like to insist that Neil continue not talking about this something, but that's hardly friendly.]

In what way? Romantically? [Said without surprise or much emotion at all. That may, however, present a problem...] I don't want to bother you--either of you--if you prefer privacy.

[had_not_lived]

[This is at least as uncomfortable on his end. Neil shakes his head, slightly.]

We've had roommates before-- if it bothers you I understand, we'll find you somewhere else. I just thought you should know. [He frowns slightly.] Most people don't.

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

I don't mind. It's not abnormal.

[He looks mildly surprised and then pleased, but only for a moment.] Thank you for telling me.

[had_not_lived]

[It's enough to crack the tension, at least, and Neil laughs. It's just such a Justin way to put it.]

I think that's enough information to start with.

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[Laughing... is good. Perplexing, but good.]

My curiosity is satisfied. I have enough to think about.

[And when they reach Xanadu, he has even more to think about. Justin doesn't believe in deja vu, but he's almost certain he's been here before.]

[had_not_lived]

It's something.

[Some things, some places, speak better for themselves than Neil could manage. So he doesn't. For once. As long as they don't get too off track to find their way home, Neil doesn't mind letting Justin wander.]

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[And Justin is quite content to traipse about the garden, examining the odd flower here and there, waiting for Neil to tell him he's bored and ready to go somewhere else. Or maybe Neil won't do that. Justin has yet to determine the parameters of their friendship.]

Do you know anything about plants?

[had_not_lived]

[Well, eventually he might get cold and tired and want to go to bed, but that's a little different. And has less to do with the parameters of friendship, and more to do with the practicality of wandering.

He shakes his head.]

No, not really.

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[Cold? Tired? Being City-dead has its perks.]

Oh. We don't need to stay here--not if you don't want to.

[had_not_lived]

Are the plants here interesting?

[Neil's got a while left in him yet. Seeing Justin interested in something is worth it.]

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

Yes. I don't think all of them exist at--where I'm from.

[Then again, he hasn't seen decent plants in months. Even the withered dandelions are interesting.]

You mentioned poetry. Who do you read?

[had_not_lived]

Romantics, mostly. Shelley, Byron... I like Walt Whitman, and-- well, really, I'll read almost anything, those are just my usual favorites.

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

They're all good. Keats, Wordsworth, Coleridge...

[He stoops to examine a small bunch of flowers blooming brightly in the snow.]

Dickinson is the only poet I won't read.

[had_not_lived]

Why not?

[He leans against a tree, careful not to knock a bough of snow down on himself.]

[othersdie.livejournal.com]

[He shrugs.]

She's not engaging. And I--her personal life makes no sense to me. She had a privileged life... nothing but herself to make herself miserable.