SepticGentleman

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Hurry Allen! Prove him wrong!

Prove your are

THE

KING

_OF

@BurningDaisies

Opulence worthy of a true Memelord.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

@JunkMail Holler holler, acquire dollar.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Archie Davis and Harmon Rottlage

Oakdell Harbor, White Coast

"I could use, uh... a water, Archie." Harmon piped up, as they were walking. "Alright." Archie replied with his phone, scanning the lines of establishments near them. Archie pointed out a random junk food cart and made his way towards it with Harmon in tow. They approached the clerk, who was looking away. He turned his head to face the two and, understandably, jumped a bit. Mainly, he was focused on Harmon.

"Woah! Jesus Christ, are you okay?"

"I-I'm sorry?" Harmon replied.

"Your head! There's huge pieces of fuckin'- shrapnel in it!"

"Oh, oh, no, that's- that's part, o-of me. I'm okay, really."

The clerk sighed, half out of relief and half out of confusion. "Freakin' metas, man..." He said, "I mean, no offense but-"

"You mind if we just get a water?" Archie interjected, "For him."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, okay. Fifty cents."

...

Afterwards, the two were seated on a bench facing away from the beach, Harmon enjoying his water sip by sip. Archie was scanning the districts of Baybridge he could see in the distance. "It seems like the best we're gonna get, Harmon." He typed out and sounded, "Last place in the country at least."

"Do you really still want to make people leave?" Harmon asked, turning his camera towards Archie.

"Don't make it sound so harsh." Archie replied, "I just want everyone to have the best lives they can get. I like having people in the Microcosm, and if they don't want to leave, they don't have to. But some of them don't-"

At the moment, a text message notification popped up. From...

Oh, boy.

FROM: [phone]
Archie, I'm going to be doing a job. You'll get a cut if you help.

Archie paused for a moment. Harmon looked at him questioningly. Archie raised his free hand and pointed to Harmon, simultaneously telling him, "Barricade. Right now." Harmon didn't hesitate, and focused his abilities on keeping Archie's phone, for lack of a drawn out and detail-laden description, "secure".

And the conversation went on.

TO: [phone]
Ari?

FROM: [phone]
This is her.

TO: [phone]
It's been months. What the hell are you up to?

FROM: [phone]
Planning something, and I need your help. We can talk there.

TO: [phone]
Ari when you say "plan" and "help" in the same sentence, that concerns me.

FROM: [phone]
It's going to be at Jiao-Long Liu's party. Meet me there.

TO: [phone]
I only just got to Baybridge. I don't know where the hell that is. And I haven't even agreed to whatever this is.

FROM: [phone]
You'll figure it out. See you soon.

TO: [phone]
Ari god damn it.

Archie subsequently deleted the entire conversation from his phone. He motioned his head upward in something of a defeated expression. Harmon asked him, "What's wrong?" He could've very easily read the conversation mentally, but he respected Archie's privacy too much to do so. All he did was keep things classified.

"It's Ari."

"Oh..." Harmon replied, looking a little disappointed somehow. "Her..."

"I know you're not her biggest fan. But I do owe her a favor. Or several. I don't know, the imaginary scoreboard we have confuses me sometimes." He grabbed his backpack and stood up from the bench and continued, "She wants my help with something. I'll at least humor her by showing up to this party she mentioned. If I say yes, okay. If I say no, then hey, you and I can still enjoy a party."

"You're not going to say no." Harmon replied, standing up. "You never say no to her."

"Yeah. Probably." Archie replied, "Let's just find out where this Jowel-Hong Louie's shindig is. It'll make for a nice tour." And he once again began marching into the unknown.

"I don't want to do this..." Harmon said under his breath, getting up and following suit.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

<Snipped quote by SepticGentleman>

More like regret ulcers.

Because every time it feels like I'm past the part where I regret everything, you pull me back in.

@Mr Allen J

You've got me under your skin.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

I can feel the ulcers exploding in my stomach.

@Mr Allen J

Trust me baby, those are feel-good ulcers.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

I'm sorry. The temptation was just too strong.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Archie Davis and Harmon Rottlage

Oakdell Harbor, White Coast

Archie was seated on a bench somewhere along the boardwalk. He had his backpack open and the impossibly spaced bag opened up inside. He was reaching his arm down, seemingly attempting to grab something, and then out came a small black device with a thick plastic antenna on it. Looked like some kind of wifi router. He gave it a look before setting it aside and taking out his phone. He opened up an application that he'd probably gotten more use out of then literally every other person who's ever bought it - text to speech. He set the voice to TTS Mike, speed modifier at zero, and with the unnaturally dextrous fingers of his right hand, he began typing.

"Got it. Hey, how about you join me for a walk up here?"

And the bag - or whoever was in it - replied, "O-okay."

Archie got up from his seat and pulled the bag out a bit, held it up opening-outward, as wide as it was allowed. And out stepped the strangest young man you ever did see - skinny frame, colorless complexion, and an assortment of metal bits scattered about his noggin. Archie's premium buddy of seven years, Harmon Rottlage. Just climbed right on out of his backpack like any normal friend would. A few passing boardwalk-goers looked on in confusion, but Archie simply waved to them as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Harmon looked around with the camera of his own cellular telephone, mouth slightly more agape than usual. He turned and put his hands on the wooden railing, looking out at the waters and beaches, all very much being occupied by the public. Harmon took in a breath of fresh air. "It's... it's nice." He commented softly.

"I know. Probably the best-looking hotspot in the US of A at this point. Sunny skies and friendly faces." Archie replied, with his phone. He walked up to Harmon and held up the device from earlier, still connected by a blue wire running i to the bag. "This thing working?"

"Yeah, i-it is." Harmon replied, "I can see everyone using their phones and laptops now."

"Excellent."

Here's the thing - non-Euclidean folds in the fabric of reality tend to suffer from cuts in satellite ranges, which means no internet. For a lot of people, that basically means all hope is lost. So sometime ago, Harmon remedied the situation by cooking up a little signal-receiving device. Running from the outside into a system of routers on the inside, wifi signals could squeeze through and get properly jumped on by the folks inside Archie's bag of wonders. Back then, that definitely put Harmon on some peoples' friend lists - shame he failed to see the merit in social media and never used any of its available outlets. Chances are he'd be somewhat popular

Archie pinned the device to a clip on his backpack, poised and free to pick up any available signals. Harmon was always on standby to fix any problems that arose. "Y-you sure no one's going to... steal it?" Harmon asked, walking beside Archie as the two headed further along the boardwalk.

"If they do, you and I will go on the wildest adventure to get it back. We'll end up finding out the whole thing runs deeper than we thought, and we'll have to infiltrate the underground crime ring of Baybridge, beat the crap out of some Russians, jump through the air with two guns each, disable the bomb, secure the antidote for the virus, and save Christmas. In theaters next month in 3D IMAX sweet Dolby surround sound supreme."

Harmon just shook his head, wheezing a bit in amusement. Archie slung his arm over his buddy's shoulder, and they kept on marching forth.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Ever day we move further away from god's light.

Written in context of Archie.

I'm sure naturalreaders.com/index.html will be proud to have this to their name.

@JunkMail

In the outskirts of the space nation, it's time to taste the finest murders.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Before I lost my head into shitposting mode, better make use of the time to continue working on my IC draft.

_{Which will also help to take my mind off the doomsday countdown. In about an hour's time.}

@tsukune

A few more pages in and I know I'm gonna slip into shitpost overdrive deluxe.

Baybridge: Old Ghosts [COMPLETED]

Archie Davis

Brave Water Bridge

It was a good view of the city, from the bus Archie was seated in. The bridge they were riding along passed parallel to the horizon, letting everyone take in the sights before they threw themselves into it. Some of them were more curious about what, or who, was inside the bus rather than across the lake from it. Even the people that had been riding for longer than Archie were still passing glances at him - a man wearing a yellow bag with an orange X over his head was definitely a less than normal sight to see. For most, it was a very clear giveaway that he was a meta-human, and that put them off. The animosities of yesteryear still rang deep, evidently. But no one acted on their hostile suspicions, if there were any, and Archie was thankful for that.

He shifted his gaze of unclear origin from the window to the rather large, gray backpack lying on the seat next to him. It looked like something that someone ready to climb Mt. Everest would be hauling. Archie was checking it every few minutes out of habit, making sure its condition and placement weren't changing. What was in that backpack was more important than... well, a lot of things put together. At least, in Archie's non-existent eyes.

He turned back to the view of Baybridge. He'd be there in a matter minutes.

...

White Coast

The bus came to a stop, and everyone got up to get off. Archie picked up the backpack with his left hand and slung it over his shoulder. He walked and passed the driver along with the rest of the passengers, and stepped down onto the station sidewalk. And he stood there, looking ahead, above, and around him. He took in all the immediate sights that the city was showing to him. Some people passed by and wondered how he even was looking through the bag on his head, but it didn't matter much to them as they left the immediate area. Archie turned his attention towards a publicly available map on the side of a seating booth adjacent to the bus stop. Handy.

Archie ran his finger over the western area, landing on the name of his current location, affixed with a noticeable red dot saying you are here. White Coast, that's where he was. A taste of town, before the gates opened up to the real deal. Prince Ed-Field, as it was, lied right over yonder. He'd head there after he was done here. He had a bit of business to tend to at the moment.

Archie unloaded the backpack from upon his shoulder and unzipped it, and out he pulled something quite interesting. A bag, a very large bag, reinforced with various fabrics and padding, and absolutely covered in what appeared to be... signatures. Signatures, written in a myriad of differently colored inks, simple and elegant all, little hearts and peace signs, doodles of random things - more than one person had definitely drawn on this thing. It was folded down several times to fit in the backpack, and Archie went to work laying it out on the ground. The bag ended in an opening wrapped with several loops of elastic, jutting out into two interwoven handles. Like a hoodie meant for a giant of a man. Archie set the bag on the ground and reached into the backpack again, pulling out an assortment of collapsible metal rods - the sort you'd use to prop up a tent. He took a moment to extend the rods and run them through a series of loops along the bag's opening, connecting the rods as well. Within a minute, the bag was upright, positioned in such a way that the opening looked like a doorway.

And it was, in fact, a doorway.

Archie looked inside, seeing the fabric fade into a dark void. Just ahead of him was a rope with a weighted handle on it. He stepped forward and grabbed it, and gave it one good tug with all his strength. In the distance, bells could be heard ringing one after the other, like a signal. By now, people near the bus stop were watching with genuine curiosity. And mere moments later, they came. In a haphazard line, a few dozen or so people exited from within the unknown, out into the bright of day. Many of them had smiles on their faces, most were fairly young - in their twenties or so. As they walked out, each of them acknowledged Archie in some way - giving him a thumbs up, patting his shoulder, or even hugging him. Some extended heartfelt goodbyes and words of sincere gratitude.

One by one, some in pairs, they departed, walking towards the nearby information booth or further into the city, knowing where they were going. Archie stood and watched them leave. Some had been riding along for months, even years. He was a little sad to see them go. But the sadness was quickly superseded by satisfaction, that they'd all gotten what they wanted. Somewhere else to call home.

As some other folks stood by and watched the odd event unfold, Archie began packing up the doorway to wherever. Collapsing the rods, folding up the bag, and so forth. Once everything was back in order, Archie slung the backpack over his shoulder once again, and took out his phone with his right hand. He positioned himself in front of the station map and took a picture of it, seeing as the pamphlet container on the side was empty of copies and the information booth was much too crowded. He took a few more pictures of each district of the city, so he could make out names and whatnot. Afterwards, he put his phone away, turned in the direction of the sidewalk, and began marching forth.

He was gonna take some time and get a feel for this place before he retired for the afternoon.