(open) The wall

[lazyinlove]

Date & Time: Tuesday (today)
Location: Out in the city!
Characters: Stanley Lucerne and whoever stumbles across him.
Summary: Stan has the feeling he could plaster a wall if he set his mind to it...so he gives it a shot. He hasn't recruited anyone, so all are as likely/welcome to be there as you want.
Warnings: Cursing. He's an American teenage boy from the modern era. Also drugs, whoops. You know, stuff like that.

((OOC And any format is fine, I'll follow. Just starting in prose because it's less work on my phone.))

It wasn't a gradual thing. Gradually, it might've made sense. Maybe he could've mulled it over in his sleep and worked things out. People did that. Famous people. He'd fallen asleep in many a history class to the drone of 'and in a dream, inspiration solved x huge historical problem.'

Instead, it was sudden. As soon as that lady with the weird speech patterns had suggested it, he'd known it was in there. The ability to help. The knowledge of how to go about rebuilding. Which was weird, frankly, since he'd never so much as lifted a hammer before in his life. Yeah, sure, there were tools in the garage back home. His dad might've even known how a few of them worked, though that was debatable. A certainty was that he had never even attempted to show them to Stanley, who had always made his disinterest in manual labor known to those around him.

So it was more than a little unexpected when this morning he woke with not only the feeling that he was capable of helping in the aftermath of the bombing, but the alien new feeling of actually wanting to do so. Which was how he found himself gathering stones and materials, and quietly setting to work. It didn't even matter what the buildings had been before, because he wasn't interested in helping anyone specific. It was sort of like being possessed.

Then again, it could've been worse. He could've been levitating and vomiting pea soup. That would've sucked...

Comments

[5055034455]

Wow did this conversation go downhill fast. Saul blinks. It takes him a minute to process whatever it is he just heard, and even then he's not sure what he just heard.

"Sorry, what?"

[lazyinlove]

Whoops. He's definitely not doing a good job keeping this dude mellow. Not to mention, he doesn't want to talk about this either. Stan takes another big hit and holds it, stalling for time, trying to think of some sort of response that can make the last 30 seconds of conversation disappear.

"Nothing. Here, fire drill."

He passes the joint to Saul again, either to have or just to hold, and jumps up. Ow. Sore knee, right. After rolling his eyes at himself and giving it a quick rub to take the sting away, he disappears around the corner for a little privacy.

[5055034455]

...okay.

Surprisingly (or maybe not, given Saul's foggy mental state), Stanley's tactic works. By the time he returns, he'll find Saul staring at the joint like he's trying to figure out something really important.

Like maybe what the hell am I doing with my life.

[lazyinlove]

"Your turn."

Stanley drops down onto a slightly more secure rock this time, and nods at Saul.

"You've got the magic sharing stick."

[5055034455]

His turn for what?

"My turn for what?"

[lazyinlove]

That gets another snort, but it's not sarcastic. More like acknowledgement of something.

"Whatever's bugging you. Or I dunno. Tell it like a fairytale if you want. That one works better with girls but I'll let it slide since you're out of practice."

[5055034455]

...what the hell is Stanley even talking about.

Saul squints, then laughs a little, then shakes his head again. "Yeah, okay. Once upon a time the princess didn't need rescuing and the practical pig refused to boil the big bad wolf and Sleeping Beauty filed a sexual harassment lawsuit, the end."

[lazyinlove]

"Bet the princess would have boiled the wolf."

He doesn't seem too offended that Saul isn't playing along. Adults usually don't. He just takes another long puff and thinks that answer over.

"You can't turn even turn it off in a fairytale. That's gotta suck."

[5055034455]

That's the thing, though: Saul is playing along.

He scowls faintly and pushes his hair back. "I have a lot on my metaphorical plate right now."

[lazyinlove]

It's too bad he says that just as Stan is inhaling, because then he's suddenly choking. Laughing and inhaling at the same time never works, and oh shit, his lungs. He doubles up, hacking and snickering and wiping at the tears in his eyes because it fucking hurts, and it's making his eyes water.

"Shit. Ow."

He gets a handle on it enough to suck in a shallow breath, that escapes in some more coughing and sputtering, and shakes his head.

"Wolf's head?"

[5055034455]

Saul has no idea what's so funny. Unfortunately, this is the kind of laughter that seems to be contagious, so soon he's making a concentrated effort to not giggle.

And failing.

"Shut up. What wolf?"

WHY IS FOLLOWING THIS CONVERSATION SO DIFFIC—

Oh. Right.

[lazyinlove]

That definitely doesn't help. Stanley snorts again and dissolves into another peal of coughter. Shit, he got the lawyer man stoned. That's hilarious. This is awesome.

"Ow, my ribs."

[5055034455]

Wow, okay. This needs to stop. Saul bites his lip to contain his own laughter, which of course doesn't work, so in the end he resorts to burying his face in his hands.

This is why he stopped smoking (mostly) after he realized, during his sophomore year, that his GPA needed to not be terrible if he wanted to get into law school. Gigglefits over absolutely nothing are not conducive to things like studying. Or looking like a proper lawyer, now that he is one. Was one? ...no; is one.

"Shh. Shut up. Stop. It's not that funny."

(Yes it is. Whatever it is.)

[lazyinlove]

"No, it is."

Stanley insists, wheezing on another attempt to stop laughing. But he can't. There's this old polyestered up gelled up TV lawyer sitting across from him and giggling and oh, shit. He can't even breathe anymore.

So much for a more stable rock, because he slides right off the side of it, and just keeps laughing.

[5055034455]

It occurs to Saul that someone very well may find them and demand to know what the hell's so funny, like maybe Stephanie because she is tracking him, after all, and he's pretty sure the glassy look in his eyes would give everything away in an instant.

And for some reason, that's also hilarious.

Or no, no. Wait. Maybe Jesse or Walt will come by. Maybe they'll come by together. He can see the look on Walt's face now, all mortified and judgmental. Jesse would probably laugh.

"Shit — "

He actually has a stitch in his side.

"Stan. Stanley. Shut the hell up."

[lazyinlove]

Stan bites his lip, but it just results in laughter that sounds sort of like an asthmatic piglet. And that sets him off again, so he tries burying his face in his sleeve. It seems to help. He starts to catch his breath a little, and the hysterical laughter becomes cough-laughing again, and dies into snickers.

"I'm cool. God, that hurts." Snrk. "I'm good."

Except that he makes the mistake of looking at Saul again, and splutters back into another desperate gigglefit. Saul is hilarious.

[5055034455]

Saul isn't even doing anything!

Unless you count carefully bending down, grabbing a pebble, and throwing it at Stanley's side as doing something. Because that just happened.

"Shhhhh!"

[lazyinlove]

"Dude." Snort. "Did you-" cough "just" wheeze "stone me?"

[5055034455]

"Sure did."

And he's about to do it again, too.

"Get it?"

[lazyinlove]

"Got you first."

He grins, struggling to sit up again and holding his sore ribs. Time to talk about something less personal than big, messy fairy tales.

"So, this guy gets stabbed in an alley and he walks up to the first guy he sees and goes 'call me an ambulance!' The dude he walked up to looks at him holding his guts and bleeding, takes another puff, and smiles, then he goes 'you're an ambulance!'"

[5055034455]

...no.

That is literally the worst joke Saul has ever heard, but you'd never know it by the way he's on the verge of laughing himself to tears.

"I'm gonna — " Snicker, cough. "Kick your ass."

[lazyinlove]

That would seem a lot more threatening if it weren't for the giggling, dude. As it is, Stan just grins. Hold on, he's got a worse one.

"Two mushrooms were blazing together, and the first goes 'ever wondered why you can't un-peel a banana?' The second mushroom looks over and goes 'holy shit, a talking mushroom!'"

[5055034455]

NO.

If Saul weren't sure the ground might slip out from under his feet if he charged Stanley, he would totally charge Stanley.

Because that would look even less suspicious than what's happening right now, yep.

"C'mere." Still laughing. "I wanna tell you something."

stan don't do it

[lazyinlove]

The almost pretty blond hair and the stoner look (okay maybe it's not just a look) combined tend to give the impression that Stanley is pretty dumb. And sometimes he is, sure. He doesn't do his homework or anything, so he's not exactly brain trust guy. Except that every kid who's ever existed has had a parent or grandparent pull that trick on them at least once, depending on how quickly they learned that it was generally followed up with a swat to the backside or a smack upside the head.

So he doesn't move closer. Just casually kicks the second joint and puts the case away. This time they're both good. "You want limericks instead?"

[5055034455]

Aw, damn it.

He's smart. Either that or psychic, because a nice slap to the back of that shiny blond head of his is exactly what Saul had in mind. Damn. Saul could chase him, maybe, like he chased Jesse, but —

Nah. Not worth it. He'll save this one for later.

"The hell I do. How many do you even know aside from 'there once was a man from Nantucket'?"