Dwyer looked at the blank world outside his doorway, heaved a sigh, and tried to go back inside, only for his aunt to shoo him out for some fresh air. It's fine, she said! Nothing to worry about, she said! Go sit in the park and get some sun, she said! Yeah, sure, that'd be great, if he could find the park or the sun or anything. It'd be easier to go back into bed and wait this...whatever it was out, because how is he supposed to be able to do something about it? God, he can't even find a bench or curb to sit on without feeling around like a dumbass, but it's when he finally grasps the arm of a bench that he spots it - a paintbrush, floating in the air, drips of plum paint trickling down. He blinks, rubs at his eyes, blinks again.]
...The hell...?
[Clearly he needs to sit down for a good long while with his eyes closed, because now he's seeing weird things. And he does that for a good five minutes, undisturbed, until the paintbrush is decidedly fed up with being ignored and flies right at him, smearing paint right across his face.]
Augh-!
[Yes, this is how he always knew he would go: assaulted by a paintbrush. Want to laugh at the scruffy teen being assaulted by art supplies as he flails uselessly on an invisible bench, or will you take pity on him and try to explain what's going on?]
III - Keep Calm and Carry On
[Eventually, Dwyer and the paintbrush were able to come to an agreement with each other, and it had become his navigational tool ever since - not that he went to a lot of places to begin with, but still, it was better than faceplanting into walls or tripping over things on the sidewalk that had gone unseen. And it pleased his aunt, who was still pretty blase about all this weirdness, that he could help them make a trail back to the house when she wanted to go to Union Grocery to pick up her organics. So that's what they were doing today. It's late morning, his aunt is still in the front of the store talking to a friend, and he's found himself down in one of the aisles, slowly painting the produce out of boredom. Even if it's just outlining it, it's better to know that you're picking up a box of tea rather than a box of spice packets, right?
Are you painting out some produce, too? Or have you come across Dwyer as he tries not to lean against a half-outlined shelf, trying to rub the dull, mounting pain out of his shoulder from all this work?]
Bonus - You've Got Mail!
[Uh. Well. Hm. That's...this is weird. This is very weird. This is not something he had downloaded onto his phone, nor someone who would be in his limited contacts. Is this a virus? Did someone hack his phone? His aunt, bless her heart, has no idea what he's talking about when he tries to show it to her, so she couldn't have put this Retrospec thing on there herself...ugh, this is stressing him out. His phone is the one thing he has left that's normal and colored. If he loses access to it, what is he going to do? But if this is related to any of the weirdness, then he might as well try to get some answers.]
hello? uh is someone there? or is this really a virus and my phone is bricked please don't let my phone be bricked also if it takes a while for me to text back i'm sorry but it's been a long couple of days and i haven't slept well seriously you'd be surprised how hard my autocorrect is working right now
no subject
I - Paint the Town Plum
[Why did he go outside today.
Dwyer looked at the blank world outside his doorway, heaved a sigh, and tried to go back inside, only for his aunt to shoo him out for some fresh air. It's fine, she said! Nothing to worry about, she said! Go sit in the park and get some sun, she said! Yeah, sure, that'd be great, if he could find the park or the sun or anything. It'd be easier to go back into bed and wait this...whatever it was out, because how is he supposed to be able to do something about it? God, he can't even find a bench or curb to sit on without feeling around like a dumbass, but it's when he finally grasps the arm of a bench that he spots it - a paintbrush, floating in the air, drips of plum paint trickling down. He blinks, rubs at his eyes, blinks again.]
...The hell...?
[Clearly he needs to sit down for a good long while with his eyes closed, because now he's seeing weird things. And he does that for a good five minutes, undisturbed, until the paintbrush is decidedly fed up with being ignored and flies right at him, smearing paint right across his face.]
Augh-!
[Yes, this is how he always knew he would go: assaulted by a paintbrush. Want to laugh at the scruffy teen being assaulted by art supplies as he flails uselessly on an invisible bench, or will you take pity on him and try to explain what's going on?]
III - Keep Calm and Carry On
[Eventually, Dwyer and the paintbrush were able to come to an agreement with each other, and it had become his navigational tool ever since - not that he went to a lot of places to begin with, but still, it was better than faceplanting into walls or tripping over things on the sidewalk that had gone unseen. And it pleased his aunt, who was still pretty blase about all this weirdness, that he could help them make a trail back to the house when she wanted to go to Union Grocery to pick up her organics. So that's what they were doing today. It's late morning, his aunt is still in the front of the store talking to a friend, and he's found himself down in one of the aisles, slowly painting the produce out of boredom. Even if it's just outlining it, it's better to know that you're picking up a box of tea rather than a box of spice packets, right?
Are you painting out some produce, too? Or have you come across Dwyer as he tries not to lean against a half-outlined shelf, trying to rub the dull, mounting pain out of his shoulder from all this work?]
Bonus - You've Got Mail!
[Uh. Well. Hm. That's...this is weird. This is very weird. This is not something he had downloaded onto his phone, nor someone who would be in his limited contacts. Is this a virus? Did someone hack his phone? His aunt, bless her heart, has no idea what he's talking about when he tries to show it to her, so she couldn't have put this Retrospec thing on there herself...ugh, this is stressing him out. His phone is the one thing he has left that's normal and colored. If he loses access to it, what is he going to do? But if this is related to any of the weirdness, then he might as well try to get some answers.]
hello?
uh
is someone there?
or is this really a virus and my phone is bricked
please don't let my phone be bricked
also if it takes a while for me to text back i'm sorry but it's been a long couple of days and i haven't slept well
seriously you'd be surprised how hard my autocorrect is working right now