Multiversal travel can be disorienting, but there’s no need to worry! All side effects are temporary and lessen with each trip. Your body may experience several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You may have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer dizziness while others are perfectly fine. You notice that the area you are in is filled with a soft cerulean light and feels slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you. Regardless of your current state, however, the stress of transit forces your body into unconsciousness.
Waking up is another story. Or maybe it isn’t.
You find yourself in a nondescript room; sometimes with others who have found themselves in the same situation, sometimes alone. Welcome to Avagi Station, your new home.
New arrivals are, of course, welcome to explore the various locations around the station. Additionally everyone is provided with a communicator in case they want to pose any questions to the population already residing on Avagi.
The Labyrinth
After stepping through the latest portal from Avagi to elsewhere, you find yourself dropped off in an area that has been dubbed The Labyrinth for reasons that become clear once you start to explore. The area you’re exploring is a lush forest, full of life. But soon enough it becomes clear that the forest is a staging ground for a massive labyrinth that goes down into the earth like an inverted pyramid. It goes quite deep and the lowest levels are hidden beneath a shroud of mist that cannot be penetrated from the top levels. If you want to find what lies at the heart of the labyrinth you will have to descend and explore.
The Beginning:
The beginning comes off as a very classical maze structure. High walls and a great many twists and turns. It’s easy to become lost and disoriented if you don’t pay attention to where you’re going. However, it’s important to know that the Labyrinth does not take kindly to cheaters. Anyone who thinks they’re going to be sneaky and climb the walls to get a better idea of where they’re going will be in for a nasty surprise when they climb down and find they’re in a completely different section of the maze than they were before. The way is uncertain, with doors that will lock behind you once you choose a path and trap doors that will dump you in different areas if you don’t watch where you step. Likewise, those that try to mark their path will find their signs moved, erased or otherwise changed. You must proceed honestly if you wish to move forward.
The Mire:
The landscape of the labyrinth shifts as you make your way deeper, as you venture down beneath the mists the stone walls end up slowly shifting into a strangely twisting forest covered in vines and moss. Here you must contend with strange creatures that reside in this part, creature that are troublesome because given any opportunity they will lead you astray by stealing the voices of others to lure you off the true path. It doesn’t even need to be the voice of someone present, somehow they know the voices of loved ones who aren’t present and will shamelessly exploit that to distract you from your goal. If you do give in to temptation you’ll find yourself stumbling lost through the greenery until you end up tripping into a swamp. Anyone falling into its murky waters will find themselves stinking to high heaven. Careful, the smell won’t go away for at least a few days if you do end up falling in. For those wise enough to resist they might be able to find their way to the center of the labyrinth.
Maybe the Real Treasure was...:
You have braved your way through the labyrinth doing your best to face its challenges even though there was never any certain reward for your efforts. In the end the Labyrinth knows the heart of those who navigate its twists and turns and gives the reward that had been earned. Those that made their way through without cheating and without being led astray will find a simple treasure waiting for them at the center. A wooden music box made from the same wood as the middle sector of the maze that, when wound, plays exactly the tune of whatever song you’ve been wanting to hear.
For the cheaters and those who strayed from the path, they will also find that there is a wooden box waiting for them, though this one is significantly larger than the music box and cannot be removed from its stand. The difference between their prizes will become quite clear the moment someone chooses to open it. Instead of music they’ll be greeted with a rather rude raspberry before the box snaps shut and locks of its accord.
Regardless of prize, those who make it to the center will find the way out is a set of stairs that cuts through all the levels and delivers you back safely to the entrance.
The Labyrinth [Jughead has a notebook in his hand and a pencil as he walks through the maze. He's in no hurry, and that much is clear by the slow pace he's taking through the maze.
It's with good reason, though. He's trying to make a map of where he has been, but the maze keeps changing and he's just starting to notice as he erases another set of lines.]
Damn it. [Looks like minus one for the logic team. But a few minutes later Jughead finds himself in the twisted forest of the mire. The smell is atrocious, and he makes a face before covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve. Muffled, he speaks to no one in particular.]
This had better be worth it.
Silent Night
Everyone has a story. Seems like this one is just starting for a lot of us. I'm not looking for your life stories, but humor me. Where and when were you before you ended up here?
[When Richie encounters Jughead, he's approaching from the opposite direction, completely covered in stinky swamp water and vegetation. There's gunk in his hair, on his lenses, but his effort to clean them off with his shirt only made it words.]
[If he thought the smell was bad before, it is so much worse when he runs into Richie. He looks like he's auditioning for the swamp thing in a school play. He frowns at the boy, dripping swamp muck, and takes his gunk covered glasses from him.]
You reek, kid.
[He wipes the glasses off on his shirt with a grimace before sticking them back on Richie's face.]
[Richie mutters a quiet thanks and adjusts his glasses. It's a relief to be able to see properly again; it was starting to give him a headache and the number of times he's tripped over himself since he got out of the swamp is better left unsaid.]
Oh yeah. I couldn't resist the alluring aroma and glistening waters of the swamp. Best decision I made all fuckin' week.
[He recognizes that tone as one he uses himself on a regular basis. He slips his serpent jacket off after a heavy sigh and a skyward stare.]
Come on. Get that soaking shirt off of you and put this on. And don't fall in again. You ruin this jacket, I will have to bury you.
[He holds it out toward Richie, looking past him at the swamp. Without the jacket he's just in his white tanktop, the Southside Serpent tattoo showing on the outside of his shoulder.]
Did you find your way to the middle, or just wander off after those voices?
[Richie tugs his shirt off and lets it fall to the ground with a wet smack. Shirt smirt, he doesn't need it. Really, he wouldn't need anything else ever again if he could have a jacket like this one.
He slips his arms into it and zips it up. It swallows him, but it doesn't change the fact that it's really cool fucking jacket.]
Thanks, dude. [And then he looks up and notices the tattoo. He's never seen a kid with a tattoo before, and it's obvious to him that Jughead is a kid, just older.] Whoa! How the hell were able to get away with getting that? [As if it's not obvious he's talking about the tattoo, he points.] You're instantly like, the coolest fucking person I've ever met.
[Oh, but the guy is asking him something, and eventually Richie remembers to respond to it.] This wasn't always here and I was trying to get somewhere so I thought I could just climb over the bushes.
You got a lot of walls to climb if you're trying to get back to the start. [He's not sure how far they are from what he assumes is the center but he's been fighting his way through this maze for what feels like hours.
Richie has a look in his eyes, the kind Jughead remembers Jellybean giving him from time to time, and it's both flattering and concerning. He knows he should brush the kid off or find some way to make him not think the tattoo is cool, but Richie's a kid, and Jughead isn't one to tell people how to live their lives.
He glances at his tattoo and then back to Richie.]
I earned it. Had to go through a crucible to do so. Got the shit kicked out of me in the process. Come on. Walk on this side. The ground is more stable. [And Jughead didn't feel like jumping into that disgusting water to save him.]
That's okay. [He doesn't have a clue how to get out of this maze, but he's not alone and largely unconcerned right now.] If I can't find my way out I can use the doodad to call my best bud, Eds. He's a total whiz at finding his way around. He'd make it through this whole maze with his eyes closed.
[He's not even exaggerating. Richie is entirely convinced that it would go down exactly like that. He moves to the side that Jughead indicates, but his entire focus is on everything but his surroundings.]
You got beat up so you could get a tattoo? [He sounds dubious.] By that logic I could have tattoos everywhere. Even on my eyelids.
I'm Richie, Richie Tozier. [He pops the collar of the jacket as he says it.] What's your name, Fonz?
Jughead. [No last name for Richie, not because he doesn't trust him but because there's no real point. His name is ridiculous enough as it is. But he pays close attention as Richie talks, his look drifting between Richie and making sure of his footing.]
You think your friend can find his way here and back that easily? [Jughead is tired of the maze. He isn't sure where it is going or when it will end, and he'd rather be getting lunch right now.]
The trial was to become a Serpent, that tattoo just came with it. You get beat up a lot? [It's not said with any surprise. He knows very well how cruel school can be.]
Why? [As far as Richie's concerned it's a fair question. Wherefore art thou Jughead? It's the most ridiculous name he's heard, and he's almost certain that the guy's having him on.]
I can prove it. [It's a challenge now, but not really much of one considering that he's always just looking for an excuse to hang around Eddie. He fusses with his ACE to call Eddie up. Unsurprisingly (for anyone who knows them) there's a lot of shrieking about getting lost in the labyrinth, come find him pleeeeaaaase Eds? and do it blindfolded. Whether Eddie actually will is something else entirely, but once he's ended the call, he returns his attention to Jughead.]
What's a serpent? Apart from being a snake. Is it a club? [He's very nonchalant about his history of being bullied, but it's easier to cope that way.] Oh yeah, it's like a pastime at this point. I even got my backpack shit in last school year. That was a first.
(There is a whole lot of shrieking about getting lost in the labyrinth and wandering off on his own, and you did what, Richie Tozier?! Swamps can have leeches and parasites that crawl up your dick and lay eggs in your intestines! But ultimately, and unsurprisingly, Eddie obliges to come find them. Tells Richie to stay put, because he didn't want to have to hunt them down.
Luckily for both Richie and Jughead, Eddie was about as good at directions as Richie said he was. Even luckier yet? Eddie's solved the maze a couple times over by now due to simple childlike boredom. Getting to the mire doesn't take Eddie long. He coasts through the winding maze on his bike and winds up in the mire soon enough.
He ignores Richie's voice calling to him. He'd encountered that trick a few times already, and was going to trust his eyes instead of his ears.
At last he sees Richie up ahead wearing some huge leather jacket and standing next to an older boy that Eddie doesn't recognize. He slows down on his bike, the terrain a little too soft for it anyway, and stops just a few feet away.)
Who's he? (Eddie instantly asks in lieu of a proper greeting. If there's anyone who makes him as cautious as adults, it's boys a little older than himself.)
Jughead. [Jughead doesn't offer Eddie a warm, reassuring smile, or any form of real reassurance. He just grabs Richie by the jacket when the younger boy wobbles too close to the mire again and redirects him.]
You must be Eds. [He doesn't even remotely consider that Eds isn't the name Eddie goes by. He looks a little rough after hours wandering around the maze, but he's actually better off without the heavy leather jacket that Richie is now wearing. His beanie is in his pocket, his hair greased up and a little wild.]
[Jughead and Richie talk a little more while waiting for Eddie to show up. Staying put is difficult, though, between being impatient and having far too much energy. He's not bothered at all when Jughead prevents him from falling into the swampy water again. His path is corrected and he just continues on as he was.
When Eddie comes into view, Richie waves his arms excitedly.] Eddie Spaghetti here to save the day!
[He's all but beaming, and though Jughead introduces himself, Richie's quick to elaborate.] He's in a gang and has a really cool tattoo, look! [Now that he thinks of it:] Juggy here is basically like if Hockstetter wasn't a crazy fucking psycho pyromaniac.
[Apparently anyone tall with greasy dark hair is worthy of being compared to Patrick Hockstetter. Which is awful of Richie, because he actively hates the guy, but thinking before he speaks? Not something he knows how to do.] I think. [He glances to Jughead as if he expects the older boy to confirm he's not a psycho.]
(Oh well that won't do. Eddie wrinkles his nose up at his nickname being used.)
Don't call me that. It's Eddie. Richie just can't figure out how to pronounce that half the time.
(And if he does, there's always some addition on the end. Like Spaghetti. Do you see the bullshit that he has to deal with here? He did notice Jughead grabbing at Richie to pull him away from the swamp, his hands going tense on his handlebars for a fraction of a second just in case.
Jughead was a real weird name, but considering Eddie knew guys nicknamed Belch and Booger? Jughead wasn't that bad. Richie's introduction, however, has Eddie looking far more skeptical. He stares at Jughead critically, frowning hard.)
First of all, my mom says tattoos are one of the easiest way to get infections. Second of all, if he's in a gang he's probably a criminal, Richie.
(He says this point blank to Richie, as if Jughead wasn't right there. Then at last:)
You idiot. Not all psychos are as obvious as Bowers and Hocksetter. (He bikes himself slowly around Jughead.)
How do you feel about dogs? (He'd answer that question about whether or not he remembers how he got here in a second. He has to interrogate this guy first a little bit.)
I'm not a criminal. [Short and sharp, but Jughead relaxes after, watching Eddie cycle around them on his bike. Eddie's mom sounds like Alice Cooper already, and he shakes his head with with a slight grin at the thought before watching the two younger boys talk.]
And I'm not a pyromaniac either. If I was, I would have burnt my way out of this forest already. Long before running into Pepé Le Pew over there.
[But then Eddie mentions dogs, and Jughead's slightly defensive responses dissipate for an honest one.]
Dogs are better than people. They don't judge based on who their families are or where they came from.
Eddie! [Is he surprised that Eddie's interrogating Jughead? Not by a long shot.] If he were a psycho he wouldn't have let me borrow his really cool jacket. Eddie, look. It's leather.
[It's a big deal, okay. He's never worn a cool jacket before. Eddie is asking important questions, though, and Richie ends up having some of his own.]
But aren't all gangsters criminals? (This time Eddie's voice sounds less accusatory and more genuinely curious.)
Yeah, I see that, Richie.
(Unfortunately. Eddie had to shelf this internal crisis for later though. Eddie does smirk a teensy bit at Jughead's appropriate nickname for Richie at the moment.)
You do stink, Rich. There's no way in hell you're riding double with me out of here. And you don't get to lay in my bed until you smell normal again.
(Or in their room period, really, but Eddie doesn't bother saying that. He glances at Jughead and says with some empathy:)
I'll try and clean your jacket for you if you want. (Can't make any guarantees though. It says enough that Eddie was even offering. Clearly Jughead was mostly passing his psycho-test. It didn't mean automatic trust, but it meant Eddie stopped cycling around him. Jughead's answer on dogs was...It was good.)
I know the way out of here, yeah. (He rests his feet on the ground and his elbows on the handlebars, standing closer to Jughead than Richie because eugh.)
I'm not a gangster, I'm in a gang. There's a difference. The Serpents are like a family. And no, Richie. Mullets are terrible. If you grow one I will shave your head myself.
[These boys are clearly good friends, and rather than wait for Richie to ruin his jacket, the last connection he has to home, he scoops the other small boy up under his arm. With his arms covered, Jughead doesn't look like much, but in his tanktop the unexpected muscles in his arms are hard to miss.]
Lead the way. When we get out of here you can point me to a lake or shower to throw your skunk friend into. Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't drown.
[Richie yelps when Jughead picks him up, more startled than anything. Unfortunately, his inability to stay still extends to this, but he's not intentionally trying to make things difficult.]
Aw doc, anything but the hair! [His hands fly to the back of his head for emphasis, but then he's waving over at Eddie.] Guess I didn't need to ride doubles.
[He's far from being bothered by the comments about him smelling bad; he knows that he smells like the stinky swamp water.] You could take dip too, Eds. The water's nice and pleasant. We can smell like shit together. It'll be great.
(Eddie naturally lurches forward the moment Jughead scoops Richie up, fully prepared to plow into this kid if it meant keeping Richie safe from a potential throttling. But said throttling never happens.)
The hell's a mullet...? (Eddie might be pouting a little, but you'll never be able to get him to admit that.)
What, and risk Lyme disease? Yeah, right.
(Eddie pushes off on his bike, lazily pedaling ahead to lead their group back into the maze. He seems rather absent minded, as if he's not trying that hard to remember his way out. Truth is, he isn't. Richie hadn't been exaggerating on Eddie's abilities. He keeps looking back at the other two, keeping more focus on their conversation than anything else.)
[He prefers Juggernaut to the raw memories associated with being called Juggy, so he says nothing to deter Richie from continuing his stream of consciousness, wondering how it is he wound up with a couple of near preteen boys under his watch. Eddie might be rescuing them, but as long as Jughead is walking with them, he's on some level responsible for their safety and he knows it. They're only a few years younger than him, but they're also only a few years older than Jellybean.]
A mullet is when you keep your hair short in the front and let it grow out long in the back. It's the worst hairstyle known to man.
[Why is this his life. Did they kidnap him to this station just to make him endure other children?]
Riverdale. And the difference is they're my family and that's it, got it Eddie? [He gives Eddie a harsher look. He's trying to help the serpents become less a criminal gang, trying to help straighten them out, and he doesn't take kindly to accusations against them. Softer, with his eyes on the path ahead of them, he adds to it.]
Work in the front, party in the back. Like Bowers's stupid hair.
[He figures that's enough of an explanation that between the two of them, Eddie would know what mullets are. Then again, he has no idea what the history of the hairstyle is.] Anyway, I don't see the harm in taking the risk? You're already sour.
[And to Jughead:] So is it really more like a club than a gang, then? 'Cause the only gang I ever heard of was ole Hank's and he get off on carving his name into fat kids' guts.
Boys with long hair are gross. (Eddie agrees on this with the wisdom of a boy who actively kept his hair well trimmed and perfectly styled. He knew enough to make that executive opinion. Though he has to stop and look at Richie before looking at Jughead.)
Dude, Bowers hair looks almost just like his. (He points.) Except yours is kinda nicer.
(Keyword: kinda.)
I am not sour!
(He only got a tiny bit shrieky there. Improvements. His head whips around and he gives Jughead a rather impressive glare for someone who is 5'3.)
Then call them your family instead. It's not my fault gangs have notoriously bad reps. (As Richie mentioned- the only gang Eddie knew of was a rather violent one.
His own expression gentles though and he quickly looks ahead.)
Yeah, well then I guess you're no Henry Bowers. He didn't give a shit what happened to his friends. (A fact in Jughead's favor.)
Sounds like a real piece of work. A serial killer in the making. [Though knowing Richie seems to think his hair is a mullet if he resembles this Bowers kid is unsettling. He checks the back of his hair with his free hand and tries to adjust his grip on Richie, tossing him a little to get him more securely under his arm. He's not heavy, but he's heavy enough it's tiring Jughead's arm. He ends up setting Richie down once they escape the mire and the threat of the swamp.]
At the very least a real prick of a bully. This kid around here somewhere?
[Sometimes he has serious concerns about the 1950s. Actually, he has a lot of concerns about them, and he's really confused by how Eddie is remembering Henry. He pats Jughead's arm as a silent 'thanks' before launching himself after Eddie's bike.]
Do you wanna borrow my glasses again? 'Cause there's nothing about him that even resembles Bowers. Hockstetter? Maybe. They're both freakishly tall with that sort of hair but Bowers. You know he's blond, right? 'Cause he is.
[He turns on his heels, walking backward when he's talking to Jughead again.] That dickhead ain't here, thank tha lawd. He """"fell"""" down a well a cracked his head and fell like, for-fuckin-ever.
[He might be using more and more profanity just to see if Jughead's going to say anything about it.]
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thisavrou_ooc2017-12-20 09:07 pm
Jughead Jones | Riverdale
[Jughead has a notebook in his hand and a pencil as he walks through the maze. He's in no hurry, and that much is clear by the slow pace he's taking through the maze.
It's with good reason, though. He's trying to make a map of where he has been, but the maze keeps changing and he's just starting to notice as he erases another set of lines.]
Damn it. [Looks like minus one for the logic team. But a few minutes later Jughead finds himself in the twisted forest of the mire. The smell is atrocious, and he makes a face before covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve. Muffled, he speaks to no one in particular.]
This had better be worth it.
Silent Night
Everyone has a story. Seems like this one is just starting for a lot of us. I'm not looking for your life stories, but humor me. Where and when were you before you ended up here?
Labyrinth
Trust me, it ain't fuckin' worth it.
no subject
You reek, kid.
[He wipes the glasses off on his shirt with a grimace before sticking them back on Richie's face.]
What did you go for a swim?
no subject
Oh yeah. I couldn't resist the alluring aroma and glistening waters of the swamp. Best decision I made all fuckin' week.
[He tried to scale a bush and fell in.]
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Come on. Get that soaking shirt off of you and put this on. And don't fall in again. You ruin this jacket, I will have to bury you.
[He holds it out toward Richie, looking past him at the swamp. Without the jacket he's just in his white tanktop, the Southside Serpent tattoo showing on the outside of his shoulder.]
Did you find your way to the middle, or just wander off after those voices?
no subject
He slips his arms into it and zips it up. It swallows him, but it doesn't change the fact that it's really cool fucking jacket.]
Thanks, dude. [And then he looks up and notices the tattoo. He's never seen a kid with a tattoo before, and it's obvious to him that Jughead is a kid, just older.] Whoa! How the hell were able to get away with getting that? [As if it's not obvious he's talking about the tattoo, he points.] You're instantly like, the coolest fucking person I've ever met.
[Oh, but the guy is asking him something, and eventually Richie remembers to respond to it.] This wasn't always here and I was trying to get somewhere so I thought I could just climb over the bushes.
no subject
Richie has a look in his eyes, the kind Jughead remembers Jellybean giving him from time to time, and it's both flattering and concerning. He knows he should brush the kid off or find some way to make him not think the tattoo is cool, but Richie's a kid, and Jughead isn't one to tell people how to live their lives.
He glances at his tattoo and then back to Richie.]
I earned it. Had to go through a crucible to do so. Got the shit kicked out of me in the process. Come on. Walk on this side. The ground is more stable. [And Jughead didn't feel like jumping into that disgusting water to save him.]
What's your name?
no subject
[He's not even exaggerating. Richie is entirely convinced that it would go down exactly like that. He moves to the side that Jughead indicates, but his entire focus is on everything but his surroundings.]
You got beat up so you could get a tattoo? [He sounds dubious.] By that logic I could have tattoos everywhere. Even on my eyelids.
I'm Richie, Richie Tozier. [He pops the collar of the jacket as he says it.] What's your name, Fonz?
no subject
You think your friend can find his way here and back that easily? [Jughead is tired of the maze. He isn't sure where it is going or when it will end, and he'd rather be getting lunch right now.]
The trial was to become a Serpent, that tattoo just came with it. You get beat up a lot? [It's not said with any surprise. He knows very well how cruel school can be.]
no subject
I can prove it. [It's a challenge now, but not really much of one considering that he's always just looking for an excuse to hang around Eddie. He fusses with his ACE to call Eddie up. Unsurprisingly (for anyone who knows them) there's a lot of shrieking about getting lost in the labyrinth, come find him pleeeeaaaase Eds? and do it blindfolded. Whether Eddie actually will is something else entirely, but once he's ended the call, he returns his attention to Jughead.]
What's a serpent? Apart from being a snake. Is it a club? [He's very nonchalant about his history of being bullied, but it's easier to cope that way.] Oh yeah, it's like a pastime at this point. I even got my backpack shit in last school year. That was a first.
no subject
Luckily for both Richie and Jughead, Eddie was about as good at directions as Richie said he was. Even luckier yet? Eddie's solved the maze a couple times over by now due to simple childlike boredom. Getting to the mire doesn't take Eddie long. He coasts through the winding maze on his bike and winds up in the mire soon enough.
He ignores Richie's voice calling to him. He'd encountered that trick a few times already, and was going to trust his eyes instead of his ears.
At last he sees Richie up ahead wearing some huge leather jacket and standing next to an older boy that Eddie doesn't recognize. He slows down on his bike, the terrain a little too soft for it anyway, and stops just a few feet away.)
Who's he? (Eddie instantly asks in lieu of a proper greeting. If there's anyone who makes him as cautious as adults, it's boys a little older than himself.)
no subject
You must be Eds. [He doesn't even remotely consider that Eds isn't the name Eddie goes by. He looks a little rough after hours wandering around the maze, but he's actually better off without the heavy leather jacket that Richie is now wearing. His beanie is in his pocket, his hair greased up and a little wild.]
You remember how you got in here?
no subject
When Eddie comes into view, Richie waves his arms excitedly.] Eddie Spaghetti here to save the day!
[He's all but beaming, and though Jughead introduces himself, Richie's quick to elaborate.] He's in a gang and has a really cool tattoo, look! [Now that he thinks of it:] Juggy here is basically like if Hockstetter wasn't a crazy fucking psycho pyromaniac.
[Apparently anyone tall with greasy dark hair is worthy of being compared to Patrick Hockstetter. Which is awful of Richie, because he actively hates the guy, but thinking before he speaks? Not something he knows how to do.] I think. [He glances to Jughead as if he expects the older boy to confirm he's not a psycho.]
no subject
Don't call me that. It's Eddie. Richie just can't figure out how to pronounce that half the time.
(And if he does, there's always some addition on the end. Like Spaghetti. Do you see the bullshit that he has to deal with here? He did notice Jughead grabbing at Richie to pull him away from the swamp, his hands going tense on his handlebars for a fraction of a second just in case.
Jughead was a real weird name, but considering Eddie knew guys nicknamed Belch and Booger? Jughead wasn't that bad. Richie's introduction, however, has Eddie looking far more skeptical. He stares at Jughead critically, frowning hard.)
First of all, my mom says tattoos are one of the easiest way to get infections. Second of all, if he's in a gang he's probably a criminal, Richie.
(He says this point blank to Richie, as if Jughead wasn't right there. Then at last:)
You idiot. Not all psychos are as obvious as Bowers and Hocksetter. (He bikes himself slowly around Jughead.)
How do you feel about dogs? (He'd answer that question about whether or not he remembers how he got here in a second. He has to interrogate this guy first a little bit.)
no subject
And I'm not a pyromaniac either. If I was, I would have burnt my way out of this forest already. Long before running into Pepé Le Pew over there.
[But then Eddie mentions dogs, and Jughead's slightly defensive responses dissipate for an honest one.]
Dogs are better than people. They don't judge based on who their families are or where they came from.
no subject
[It's a big deal, okay. He's never worn a cool jacket before. Eddie is asking important questions, though, and Richie ends up having some of his own.]
What about mullets?
no subject
Yeah, I see that, Richie.
(Unfortunately. Eddie had to shelf this internal crisis for later though. Eddie does smirk a teensy bit at Jughead's appropriate nickname for Richie at the moment.)
You do stink, Rich. There's no way in hell you're riding double with me out of here. And you don't get to lay in my bed until you smell normal again.
(Or in their room period, really, but Eddie doesn't bother saying that. He glances at Jughead and says with some empathy:)
I'll try and clean your jacket for you if you want. (Can't make any guarantees though. It says enough that Eddie was even offering. Clearly Jughead was mostly passing his psycho-test. It didn't mean automatic trust, but it meant Eddie stopped cycling around him. Jughead's answer on dogs was...It was good.)
I know the way out of here, yeah. (He rests his feet on the ground and his elbows on the handlebars, standing closer to Jughead than Richie because eugh.)
no subject
[These boys are clearly good friends, and rather than wait for Richie to ruin his jacket, the last connection he has to home, he scoops the other small boy up under his arm. With his arms covered, Jughead doesn't look like much, but in his tanktop the unexpected muscles in his arms are hard to miss.]
Lead the way. When we get out of here you can point me to a lake or shower to throw your skunk friend into. Don't worry, I'll make sure he doesn't drown.
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Aw doc, anything but the hair! [His hands fly to the back of his head for emphasis, but then he's waving over at Eddie.] Guess I didn't need to ride doubles.
[He's far from being bothered by the comments about him smelling bad; he knows that he smells like the stinky swamp water.] You could take dip too, Eds. The water's nice and pleasant. We can smell like shit together. It'll be great.
Say, where're'ya from anyway, Juggernaut?
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(Eddie naturally lurches forward the moment Jughead scoops Richie up, fully prepared to plow into this kid if it meant keeping Richie safe from a potential throttling. But said throttling never happens.)
The hell's a mullet...? (Eddie might be pouting a little, but you'll never be able to get him to admit that.)
What, and risk Lyme disease? Yeah, right.
(Eddie pushes off on his bike, lazily pedaling ahead to lead their group back into the maze. He seems rather absent minded, as if he's not trying that hard to remember his way out. Truth is, he isn't. Richie hadn't been exaggerating on Eddie's abilities. He keeps looking back at the other two, keeping more focus on their conversation than anything else.)
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A mullet is when you keep your hair short in the front and let it grow out long in the back. It's the worst hairstyle known to man.
[Why is this his life. Did they kidnap him to this station just to make him endure other children?]
Riverdale. And the difference is they're my family and that's it, got it Eddie? [He gives Eddie a harsher look. He's trying to help the serpents become less a criminal gang, trying to help straighten them out, and he doesn't take kindly to accusations against them. Softer, with his eyes on the path ahead of them, he adds to it.]
We take care of each other.
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[He figures that's enough of an explanation that between the two of them, Eddie would know what mullets are. Then again, he has no idea what the history of the hairstyle is.] Anyway, I don't see the harm in taking the risk? You're already sour.
[And to Jughead:] So is it really more like a club than a gang, then? 'Cause the only gang I ever heard of was ole Hank's and he get off on carving his name into fat kids' guts.
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Dude, Bowers hair looks almost just like his. (He points.) Except yours is kinda nicer.
(Keyword: kinda.)
I am not sour!
(He only got a tiny bit shrieky there. Improvements. His head whips around and he gives Jughead a rather impressive glare for someone who is 5'3.)
Then call them your family instead. It's not my fault gangs have notoriously bad reps. (As Richie mentioned- the only gang Eddie knew of was a rather violent one.
His own expression gentles though and he quickly looks ahead.)
Yeah, well then I guess you're no Henry Bowers. He didn't give a shit what happened to his friends. (A fact in Jughead's favor.)
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At the very least a real prick of a bully. This kid around here somewhere?
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[Sometimes he has serious concerns about the 1950s. Actually, he has a lot of concerns about them, and he's really confused by how Eddie is remembering Henry. He pats Jughead's arm as a silent 'thanks' before launching himself after Eddie's bike.]
Do you wanna borrow my glasses again? 'Cause there's nothing about him that even resembles Bowers. Hockstetter? Maybe. They're both freakishly tall with that sort of hair but Bowers. You know he's blond, right? 'Cause he is.
[He turns on his heels, walking backward when he's talking to Jughead again.] That dickhead ain't here, thank tha lawd. He """"fell"""" down a well a cracked his head and fell like, for-fuckin-ever.
[He might be using more and more profanity just to see if Jughead's going to say anything about it.]
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