I'm just a few thoughts, fragments of memory (open)

[puzzlingly]

Who: Atem and you (open, mostly)
What: Catch up log for all your needs!
Where: Places.
When: Backdated to the start of November to somewhere around the middle.
Warnings: Annoying card games references maybe! Will match format.


around | early November | open

People were gone, Gowther was gone and everything Atem used to remember of this place, gone as well. Not that Atem actually ever noticed that Gowther had never been in this place before the influx of people.

Now, that might an exaggeration, he remembers people, but not all of them, he's not sure who knows him or not anymore. It turns out it was probably not the so called gods messing with his head, but it probably didn't matter now, did it? It's like Kaiba would say, 'Just ignore it and crush it under the weight of your future', literally... He spent so much time trying to get his memories before coming here, it sure doesn't feel like something he wants to do here as well. He knows himself, he knows Kaiba, and others, and they know him. That should be enough.

He cannot help but wonder, who else did he forget? So far he hadn't found many who claimed to know him, maybe he shouldn't worry that much.

But as much as he wants to move on, he finds himself staring at people's faces, wondering if he's met them before or not. Either you may feel someone watching from where you're sitting down at the Speakeasy, and when you turn at the counter, there he is, this scrawny young man you might or not talked to before looking at your face as if it had something on it. Maybe you're just passing by as he's sitting down at the sidewalk or just as he passes by you, stealing glances from under his umbrella—were it a rainy day—or just as you're trying to find a new pair of pants at the stores, there is this pair of amaranthine bright eyes staring curiously, maybe a little worriedly even..

What do?

( ooc: A gentle reminder Atem was given a hard reset during the fourth wall event, which means he's forgotten most of the people he's met in Hadriel. Send me a PM if you wanna plot around that, otherwise please assume a clean start with your character. )

the orchard | open

「After how things went down with the first tree he grew, Atem has been taking things a little more calmly, after all, he doesn't want to pass out again from using too much energy to turn a little seed into a full grown tree, if anything he's trying to make them grow to his knee or so. And that's what he's doing at the moment, flattening the dirt around a recently planted seed, as much as he possibly can. Then he can be seen drawing some circles and markings around it, it's not that easy to make the glyphs as perfect as he wished he could, but he keeps on trying. 」

There must be an easier way...

「He mutters under his breath.」

carlisle's garden | idk the muffin man

「Just as Carlisle had cut the communication, Atem hurried down to the piers, jumped on a goddamned boat and hurried towards the North Island as fast as the winds allowed him to. It was amazing how good he had become at this sailing thing after a while, still, dreaded it—the sea was not his element, it was so wet—but not even this time he cared to get his shoes and pants wet if it meant to get to his mentor as soon as possible.

Finally, he knocks on that familiar door, perhaps a bit more obnoxiously than he should.」

Carlisle! It's me! Open up!

「He sounds really excited at least!」

butterflies also like living in pretty houses | sal

「Atem did promise he'd help beautify whatever little house Sal decided to build for his little new friend. He's been practicing in fact! Trying to build something more spacious and fireproof for his fiery salamander. Meanwhile, he waits for his friend to arrive as he writes some notes in his notebook, anything that comes to his mind that could potentially help with creating new things, or just transmuting them into something else.」

the sewing shop | margie

「Still a little unsure of what the future will bring them, Atem decides to act on it anyway, he could use a new jacket, the one he's got, even if it's from home, has seen better days. He remembers being at the sewing shop before, but everything aside of that comes as a blur to him, he pokes his head into it, expecting some kind of magic to happen and suddenly remembering everything.

He doesn't.」

Hello?

「Is anyone there?」

wildcard

( You know the drill! PM me if you want a starter for your character or just hit me up with anything you want. )

Comments

no worries; also idc he's remembering gren because ...yeah

[puzzlingly]

I think I should be asking you that.

「He works here! Notice the apron, yes, good.

Wait」

Card game? 「Is he talking about a DUEL!? Who is this guy?!」

[murderpotato]

Yeah, the card game. Poker or blackjack or some shit.

[Sorry, kid, he still doesn't know about your magical duel monsters thing. Just regular old gambling games for him, probably minus the gambling part since there isn't much to bet around here.]

You ain't bringin' the Taacos, right?

[puzzlingly]

「He's not talking about the food is he... oh. That does it.」

... You are Gren?

「Putting a face to the texts, yes. Totally not what he was expecting.」

[murderpotato]

[R U D E]

The fuck's that supposed to mean?

[What, kid, you think something's wrong with his face? You're like two feet tall but watch it, Gren'll still fight you. He'll throw down with your spiky-haired ass.]

[puzzlingly]

I imagined you older.

「Fight him, he's gonna fight back.」

Anyway, no, I think I forgot about that for a while. Not many people play for mere fun here, you know?

[murderpotato]

Yeah, well, I fuckin' imagined you taller.

[Okay, so he shouldn't argue about how he's totally old, because like. Take the compliment, backhanded as it is.]

Well, whatever. Just let me know if it's gonna happen, ain't like I got better shit to do.

[puzzlingly]

「Cue, chuckle. That's one he hadn't heard before.」

I'm fun-sized.

I know someone who may give you a good run for your money—if we had any. He's been collecting a few things in one of the stores. Maybe can bet something from it to make it interesting. I also taught Margaery how to play, if you know her, she can pull quite the pokerface. Why don't you invite a friend and we are set.

「He has those, right?」

[murderpotato]

[Jesus, Atem, put him on the spot here, why don’t you? Gren’s list of friends is a number that’s almost always ticking down; aside from the Taacos, there’d been Rhys (long gone), and Wade (also long gone), and Peter (natch). Gren is really lacking in the friend department these days.]

Uh, yeah. I’ll ask around or some shit, see who’s up for it.

[God fucking dammit, Gren, you useless asshole.]

Margaery, that’s the sewin’ shop girl, right?

[puzzlingly]

Yep, that's her. You wouldn't believe how good she is at keeping appearances. But anyway, you and I can always play something else if you're that bored.

「He's already wondering if Gren would like a long ass explanation of Duel Monster. Maybe..... not.」

What are you drinking? I'll refill it.

[murderpotato]

What, like fuckin’ chess? I ain’t any good at it. Never bothered to learn the rules.

[Gren wouldn’t stick around for a Duel Monsters explanation, let’s be real here. He’d walk his ass right out after Atem started explaining about trap cards or something.]

Oh, yeah. Whiskey, straight.

[Same thing he always drinks.]

[puzzlingly]

You can actually play poker and blackjack with two people. It's not as exciting I must admit.

「He also isn't much into casino games but as long as it's doing something with a friend it works.

Either way, he gives him a quick nod and goes back to the counter, coming back with the bottle in hand and pours some of that in Gren's glass.」

What is that you do everyday to pass the time?

[murderpotato]

You're fuckin' lookin' at it.

[Look, Atem, he's a fucking alcoholic, okay? He drinks at the speakeasy, he drinks at home, he drinks with Lup. The majority of his social interaction basically depends on the consumption of alcohol. He's a mess.]

[puzzlingly]

「That earns him a good long stare before he sits across him.」

[murderpotato]

What.

[YOU KNOW WHAT HE’S ABOUT.]

[puzzlingly]

Nothing. You just seem like someone who could use some company.

「Fight him.」

[murderpotato]

The fuck’s that supposed to mean? What, you think I’m some fuckin’ sad sack that needs you to sit here and pretend to give a shit?

[He’ll kick your ass, he’ll kick your dog’s ass, he’ll kick his own ass.]

[puzzlingly]

First of all, no, I don't think you're some... sad sack. And second, I don't like playing pretend.

「Do not kick his Dog's ass! She'll bite him.」

What do you do for a living back where you come from?

[murderpotato]

[Gren narrows his eyes, because nobody like, asks him shit about his life except for Lup, and she only ever cared about his train wreck of a love life. She likes to be entertained and apparently shitshows are her kind of entertainment, and that’s fine or whatever because he likes her.]

What’s it to you?

[He scowls and knocks back the entire double that Atem poured into his glass like two minutes ago. God, he’s bad at talking to people.]

I did whatever people would fuckin’ pay me for, okay? Warehouse work mostly, just movin’ heavy shit around.

[puzzlingly]

「Good gods, he's worse than Kaiba. Or maybe not, that doesn't seem to deter him in the slightest.」

Just wanna know.

「See? It's not so hard.」

How strong are you?

「Unless he meant he was using a lift or so... but it doesn't occur to him yet. Modern times vs. ancient ones and all that jazz.」

[murderpotato]

[That's Gren, making friends and influencing people since fuck-all.]

Stronger'n I fuckin' look.

[He tilts his empty glass in Atem's direction.]

If you're gonna be sittin' here with the bottle, mind toppin' me off?

[puzzlingly]

That doesn't say much.

「But Atem does as told, filling his glass.」

You know Rey?

[murderpotato]

Not real well, but yeah.

[She kinda runs the speakeasy, and that's where he drinks. Hard to not at least know of her.]

What about it?

[puzzlingly]

She's probably the strongest person I know in here, I was wondering if you were like her.

「But he might not be a synth that weights 320lbs....」

Do you wrestle?

「Yes, yes, he just asked that.」

[murderpotato]

Call that bitch down, I’ll wrestle her ass right now.

[When he’s glamoured, he’s not 300 pounds, but without the glamour he’s at least in that weight class, if not more. So fuck it, why not, he’s always about two drinks and a stiff breeze away from throwing down at all times. And it’s been a while since he’d had the opportunity to break somebody’s teeth.]

[puzzlingly]

Yeahhh... Call her that again and I'll wash your mouth out with soapy water.

「He'll do it, he so will, but at least he says it with a shit eating smirk. Calm your titties down, yo.」

You have to go through me first, though.

「He's not kidding.」