#mctcrcity. 001

[eyeshone]

Fallon looks at Joey. Joey looks at Fallon. Light haloes her beautifully, at first, then it pierces painfully. Is light supposed to hurt? His eyes squint. Is this love at first sight? His head hurts so bad it starts internally blaring Take the First Step. Shouting over his mind: "IT'S FINE! I'M FIIINE!" His face is so clenched his eyebrows look like they're about to de-pit his eyeballs from their sockets.

@eyeshone // continued from╰┈➤ˎˊ˗  here!

of course, of course, of fucking course. her own head is still throbbing from the impact—the consequence of trying to be the oh-so-nicest person in the city & grab this guy’s wallet for him. both bent down, both smacked heads, blah blah blah.

the ache in her temples is such that the odd (familiar?) sound of the curse doesn’t even fully register.

“i think you���re in decent company, ow…” she rubs at her forehead. shocked that there’s not blood there. then looks at him. “really, really sorry.”

[mctcrcity]

˗ˏˋ @mctcrcity is an independent, multiverse & fandom-flexible, writing blog. written by j on tumblr, but now prioritizing discord 1x1 – she/her – 24 – EST

often found: in the eighties, trying to find herself, trying to find connection, trying to make it in the big city, trying, failing, trying again. 21+ strongly preferred, 18+ minimum.

📼 start here!

theme by eathemes. icons from the bear & bottoms by me using stephysources' caramel delites PSD, icons from theatre camp & omni loop by dresspheres. other graphics credited in tags, always <3

blogroll: @l-ivestudioaudience (21+, mainly canon-comprised multimuse)

001 GENERAL. - i don’t even know man, just be cool!

don’t hesitate to let me know if you need something tagged, you have a concern, anything. just reach out – i am a fan of communication! 

i haven’t been active in the tumblr RPC since 2017, so i’m still getting to know new norms, lingo, etc. – if i ever seem confused, it is not shade, promise!!.

002  STYLE & ACTIVITY.  - strong pref is multi-para/semi-lit to literate, but i also enjoy ask memes and other one-off type interactions! i also am always up for either rapid-fire/shorter-form or plotted, literate RPs through 1x1 servers on discord once we’ve plotted or built an established relationship between our muses. don’t ever feel like you need to match my length bar for bar, i get lost in myself a lot lol. i am a working, married, kid-and-cat parent so i may be slow to reply or miss things! 

003 FOLLOWING & PLOTTING. - upon following, i try to send a little interest message to show i’ve looked at your muse’s info or your muse roster (and your guidelines, verses, etc.). i try to have at least one muse in mind that i want to write fal against & a loose plot/intention i’d like to explore, but do tell if you have anyone in mind who you think might click better! i have some wishlist tags in my pinned if you ever want to get a vibe for what i’ve been huntin’ for. i prefer to work out a pre-established or semi-established relationship over a cold first meeting thread without any sense of where our muses’ relationships are heading, but i also like breaking the ice with ask memes!

004  SHIPPING. - i’m very comfortable with and love shipping! please ask first so we can bant/see if our muses have chemistry, but i am always willing to try! USFT is also very much fair game if you (the mun) and your muse are 18+, let's just talk it out first & i would prefer to have it happen on discord/off tumblr!

005   TRIGGERS AND TAGGING. - fallon’s plot/lore doesn’t inherently carry any triggers, but this is an adult muse written by an adult mun who has the potential and interest in some dark, mature plots. if specific plots/pairings i’m writing contain circumstances or content that’s triggering for you, just know that i always tag:

‘FALLON & [INSERT CHARACTER NAME]’ for pairings

specific verse tags

general/common CWs and TWs (stuff like blood, horror, emetophobia, etc.)

USFT/content that could be potentially USFT will be tagged plainly as ‘USFT’ for blocking and filtering purposes

if you want to avoid seeing certain content/curate your experience via blocking/filtering.

[goldticket]

Wonka finishes recording his notes on Fallon's most recent concoction (thrilling loops of cursive: the rollercoaster of handwriting) with the impromptu materials she so considerately provided: a napkin from the coffee shop and a black sharpie usually reserved for names on cups. Coconut, peanut butter, hazelnut, and almond milk. Too nutty. Louder and more enunciated:

"Do you whip your cream in house or in cow?"

fallon is revolted. she'll neither be eating the lunch she brought, nor will she be wasting $4 in tips on a pretzel.

she's a fool in the sense that she thinks she can SAVE the oddballs, every single time. she's the nicest on shift, almost every time. so, it makes perfect sense that she'd all but jumped between the whimsical man (willy, as she's scrawled in increasingly messy, uninvested handwriting on every. single. damn. cup.) and her coworker before.

now, the shine is LONG gone. she's shredded through the reasonable, mild syrup options and she's now at the bottom of the barrel—the sweetest, most wretched, and fallon's most personally hated. she's knee deep in three pumps of butterscotch (hurk), three of crème de banana (hurk), and three of kettle corn (HURG-)

trying her best to slap on her light, lilting customer service voice: "i'm sorry, when do we what?" she must not have heard him right over her aversion to sugar.

[eyeshone]

Both Fallon's heads look great. She shouldn't hide the other one. Even if it is half-materialized and searing his retinas. Joey looks at the one that hurts less to look at.

In the ambulance, to the solid Fallon head: "You can lie down, too. If you need." Head roll-turning to the paramedic: "Can we get two pillows for her?" Sudden thought: "Do you do carpools? If you respond to another call, will my bill be less?" Joey does not have insurance.

Apparently, a concussion isn't that serious because he—they—have been waiting in his hospital bed for thirty minutes. The deal breaker question: "Do you like Elmo?"

she starts a little at her name. fallon’s mother would be quite disappointed to know that, even possibly concussed (significantly more mildly than her VICTIM), somebody had to learn it by overhearing it.

“oh, um—?” she only has one head last she checked? but, she can’t be mean to a concussed person!

“whichever you want! whatever works!” the blare of sirens is starting to get closer, rather than fading into the ambience.

[eyeshone]

Joey is squinting at her, gaze a skittering back and forth like a paddleball game: "Hey, Fallon." He heard her say her name when the operator asked. "Let me know if this is insensitive. But which head of yours am I supposed to look at?"

god bless her, she’s nice to a fault. his vision is likely not the most correct, fallon guesses. with the concussion and all. she mirrors his askew little gesture—they’re fine! they’re okay!

“i’ll tell them!” then, hasty add, her cheeks burning and beyond frazzled to be correctly processing what he’s saying. “the voice part. not the attractive part. but, um, i’ll keep it in mind!”

all of this said into the very much unmuted phone mic, mind you.

[eyeshone]

"Cool." Thumbs up. Is he doing it? Joey can't really feel his body. He opens his eyes to see. The thumb is sideways. Which is kind of a more accurate depiction of how he feels right now. But he turns it pointing up. "What? Nooo, ha ha." Ugh. He shouldn't lie. Defeated, relenting: "...Yes." He needs Fallon to think he's cool. "Tell them I'm attractive. And that that's normal for me, too."

okay, good—what she is fairly certain is his normal voice. she hasn’t permanently damaged his brain! less good—well. how much can fallon complain or badly attempt to lie her way out of this? answer feels like, not even a little bit. it’s the least she can do, right? dropping her voice soft, she nods. (slowly. her own head still kills, after all.) “yeah, yes, of course.” then the operator picks up and she’s busy giving cross-streets, symptoms, and all sorts of other details. don’t worry joey, you’re still involved! “hey, um—they’re asking if the voice thing is normal? for you?”

[eyeshone]

Joey does not have many friends. Most of his social life involves holding mutant children hostage in a classroom while he comedically trauma dumps to them. He'd call Spirit but she hates hospitals. Slowly, with an unreal amount of concentration, words ground through his teeth like a parmesan cheese grater: "Not. Really." One eye peeps open at her. "Will you. Come. With me?"

“uhhh…”

she is in it. she’s knee deep in whatever the hell is going on. a long, shaky exhale of ‘cannot believe this is happening.’ (cannot BELIEVE she has concussed this man with her big, dumb head so hard that he’s making…elmo impressions?) then she’s leaning over him and pulling her phone out. “okay! ambulance! we can do that.” dials 9-1— “do you have someone you want me to get, or call, or whatever?” she squats, phone cradled between her shoulder and her ear as she attempts to give joey some semblance of privacy from the sidewalk crowd parting around them.

[eyeshone]

Joey is not in the state of mind to resist. Literally thinking right now hurts his brain. That's—count them Count von Count—two, two concussions, ah, ah, ah! Fallon says here won't help, and he trusts her; she has cared for him this whole way. Dmitri tells him he's coming, and it feels good—the only tolerable, relieving stimuli right now—to have his thoughts thought for him. "Okay." Dmitri yanks Joey up to standing—ow, his shoulder socket—and Joey tumbles into him. His arm slumps around Dmitri's shoulder like a very meaty, sweaty scarf. He does not know how to stand right now. His limbs feel as structurally sound as a muppet's.

@mctcrcity

how silly of her to think that a literal VISUAL EXAMPLE of what said unknown-to-dmitri puppet is would have been of any help. world’s WORST assistant! as always!

fallon’s first priority is trying to visually assess the damage to the phone that dmitri just SPIKED into the ground (that he has not totally killed, thankfully—youtube has autoplayed into take the first step, playing at a lower volume than before), rather than the joey that dmitri has allowed to slide down the wall.

her desire for her boss to be murdered by S.H.I.E.L.D. snipers or experimented on for life goes up a tick. losing a liiiiiittle more and more of her empathy for him and, like, in general with every incident.

“right. i agree with you,” said with shocking calm. she’s not going to be the one to tell dmitri that you have to, like, ask for people’s permission before talking about trying to reverse-engineer their broken mutations. and doubly, no need to address his ruling on her explanation skills.

“i don’t think here will help. it’s…” here, she trails off. turns her attention at joey and tries to appear friendly, carefree, and not passively evil. like dmitri isn’t just currently playing a doctor on TV, and she’s a nurse walking him through their process.

“…dmitri’s approach—” our approach. “—would be different than the past stuff, i’m guessing.”

[eyeshone]

Dmitri's eyes shift hues effortlessly. Naturally. Like his ability is an extension of himself. Enhances him. Venom-like. Joey's sound mimicry flares like this, too, in emotionally high moments. But his (Elmo and company) is more like a rash. Or an allergic reaction. In the best (severely artificial) light, it's self-spoiled aposematism.

Joey is released. He slumps without the hostile support and drags down the wall to the floor like the world's shortest, driest water slide.

Light stabs his eyes like a million little needles. He's squinting again. They both develop auras. Searing, iridescent white. Joey is surprised Dmitri's is as beautiful as Fallon's. That doesn't seem right. Is now the time to tell them their souls are showing like garish underwear through an unzipped fly? He thinks—and it really hurts to, now, thinking—no. Then Dmitri talks about fixing him. He has to squeeze his thoughts out of him like toothpaste from a nearly empty tube; toilsome effort: "No." Rejecting that hope. "I've tried. I did therapy. Nothing worked."

@mctcrcity

never, ever, in her life has fallon ever imagined that she would be opening youtube to save someone’s life. but, dmitri is about two to three more agitations from causing grievous harm. (they’re already at threat of causing unneeded alarm and attention—the thunk! of a man’s body hitting the wall is surely audible from next door, or the hallway.)

she keeps her mouth shut, heart pounding, nails clicking on the screen.

EMLO—fuck!—EELM—damn it!—ELMO IN GROUCHLAND CLIP, in the search bar. first result, the theatrical trailer. no, cannot risk confusing joey’s ability to replicate a trailer narration voice. second result, the movie at a STUPID price.

third result! let’s see!

with an urgency like a toddler on the cusp of a tantrum is in a grocery cart in front of her, fallon punches up the volume on her phone and holds it between joey and dmitri’s faces. inside, she contemplates whether this is going to get the former stuck in some sort of painful response loop. then decides he’ll probably forgive her when she ices his forehead later, because her boss hasn’t ripped his head off his shoulders.

hopefully.

@vitalphenomena

[eyeshone]

Joey sees Dmitri change into a different person which is wildly cool. Then he slams his body into the wall which is very not wildly cool. He winces, eyes fisted shut. Dmitri's voice changed, too. He's got Joey's thing and more. Is this why Fallon stays with him? Elmo voice: "Ooow."

Frantic, concussed, brain fushigi-ing in his skull—Elmo voice: "ELMO IS" He hacks, wide-eyed, horrified, head flinching away at an anticipated blow for the offense that is Elmo. Imagine the puppeteer hand leaving Elmo and strangling his adorable, furry body (sad! he hates this!). Joey voice: "ELMO! HE'S ELMO! THE RED MUPPET! FUCKING— SESAME STREET!?"

@mctcrcity

pleasedon’tbreakhislegsdmitri! please! she will work overtime. (sit in the lair and listen to dmitri speak in broken strings of various voices about his machinations.) fallon watches his wobbling gait, and even makes a move, under the delusion that she will be strong enough to catch him before he hits the floor. the wall helps her out though, thankfully. elmo does fucking NOT.

with a frustrated sigh as her hands go up to start nervously massaging and scratching at her braids: “that’s okay, don’t like…crack your brain. please.” really, don’t do it joey, she’s not quite warmed up enough for a dead body not directly caused by her employer.

to dmitri, with the hope of trying to encourage his on-track thinking: “we can only work with what’s in, like…?” she trails off, looks at the ceiling as if that will give her the tools to explain the concept of elmo to dmitri. do they have TV wherever you came from, you demon? “it’s a children’s movie. with a puppet that’s a child. that’s the knowledge base we’re working with.”

@vitalphenomena

[eyeshone]

Thank fuck, Fallon isn't laughing. He's still got a chance.

"Can I please—" Hold on. Why is he asking for Dmitri's permission like he's his boss, too? "I'm going—" Surer! Come on! "I'm getting out of this." To Fallon's inquiry: "You got it!" A quiet scamper of: "Pleasedon'tbreakmylegs." As Joey squeezes out of the bed.

He's standing. He did it. He's remembering why he was put in a bed: balance is hard. So many parts. He wobbles around the room like a mime on a unicycle before lean-falling into a wall. He props an elbow up like he meant to do that—you know, all for Fallon. Then, a disgruntled head swivel to Dmitri: "I can't! There are no hospital scenes in Elmo in Grouchland!"

@mctcrcity

it’s…it’s not uncommon. but that’s really embarrassing stuff to disclose in the middle of a meet terrible cute. (she thinks it will be a cute story, someday! in a timeline where dmitri is DEAD.)

fallon IS NOT a killer and IS NOT evil, and she is SO good at compartmentalizing and being apathetic to the odd and unsavory that her expression only twitches slightly—so she thinks—when joey starts muppet-ing out.

after the beat (maybe where a new track would start on a tape or CD, or a new scene in a movie would start?, she hypothesizes), fallon takes a breath.

“so you’re kinda…just stuck? you can do other stuff, but not really.” she really likes paying her rent, having food, and no black eyes, so she does not give dmitri a look or open her mouth. there is, however, certainly an attempt to telepathically project the command to, be nice! do not do something grievously harmful!

@vitalphenomena

[eyeshone]

Is killing a common option for them???

Joey's body is shaking. Not out of fear. Well. Not just fear. He has been holding this full body plank compression for the last minute.

Dmitri questions him. Joey cannot talk and hold this position. Too much lung work.

His body crumples, he sighs relieved, the bed re-Vs. Far more acutely than before. V for victory. Really rubbing it in. He feels grappled. By a bed.

And Dmitri.

In a mind way.

"Sound." Joey sighs. His face crinkles, his teeth grind, as though the words are buoyant and he's trying to pop them with his teeth before they escape. Fallon is going to think he's lame! Quick, pained admission: "But I broke it. Not because of Fallon. When I was a kid I watched an Elmo movie so many times it got stuck in there." His eyes gesture up—to his noggin. It's quietly leaking I Love Trash. "It's all I can do." Perfectly mimicked, instruments and all: "I got me a sneaker that's tattered and worn. It's all full of holes and the laces are torn. A gift from my mother the day I was born. I love it because it's trash!" A beat. "I had a lonely childhood." He hesitantly looks to Fallon to see her reaction.

@mctcrcity

COMMON GROUND! GOD! THERE’S SOMETHING!

fallon accepts the little victories at this junction in her life. the victories that may, or may not, prevent dmitri from feeling the need to leave with more face souvenirs. or to not pay her. both events are not unlikely when he’s really flaring up the way he is.

“wow! that’s, like…kinda familiar, right?” she chirps, really slathering on the placation in her employer’s direction. she’s not confident she’ll ever achieve the point of stability in her life to become a parent, but gently parenting dmitri is practice enough. “maybe we can all talk about it. how useful it could be. calmly. not here! without killing!”

[eyeshone]

It is difficult to hear her. On account of the mind concert. Loud Elmo voice: "SURE!" FUCK! Joey needs to lie down. He is lying down. The sky is oppressively bright; he can barely see. Is this how moles feel? He closes his eyes.

"MY NAME IS JOEY HELLBERG. YOU KNOW, IN CASE I PASS OUT. AND THE PARAMEDICS NEED TO ID ME. THAT'S:" He attempts to speak at a normal, well enunciated volume. He does. But, Elmo voice: "Joey Hellberg." FUCK!!!!!

is he about to have an ANEURSYM? is that something you can do to somebody by bumping heads with them?

her concern is starting to shift towards bewilderment as she takes in his dazed, strained expression. and, y’know, the yelling. “do you…i have, um—?” she holds up a finger for him to wait, like he’s going to go somewhere, and starts to dig into her backpack. “do you want, like, a tylenol or something?”

[eyeshone]

Joey freezes. The position was already stationary but he freezes anyway. Breathing. Eye movements. Throat. All static. His mind does not get the memo. Muppets are dancing in there. Dmitri's eyes are neon. Joey blinks hard. And they're still neon. They hurt to look at, like two mini half-there-Fallon-searing-heads; Joey squints. Dmitri has to be the president of Grouchland. Would the doctors take that as an answer?

Joey does not want to be a V again. While Fallon kindly and competently defends him, he tries manually flattening the bed: his body the spring (feet pressed on one half, his back the other) jamming the two sides down because 'any button ever'. It works. He is lying down. But it is a real fully body workout to maintain this; the bed is wrestling him. Strained Joey voice: "I mimic things." He fails to mention the extreme caveat of this. It's embarrassing.

everything is happening so much. she needs things to happen less. is that a possibility? quick note to the running evil assistant to-do list once they escape this hospital: EXCEDRIN, EXTRA STRENGTH. dmitri’s current medications all expired around 2012.

she scrubs her hands over her face before offering joey a, “thank you.” then to dmitri, somewhat aghast:

“he is not fucked up! and i didn’t do it! it’s not even a little bit worth it at this level of eye-color-shifting, headache-inducing, identity instability to correct her marital status (or the unkind words), for the second time in this conversation. they’ll circle back later! calm is the more important objective.

“he was like that already, he said so! and nobody sent him, he was just passing by on the street. it could have been anybody. we’re fine.”

@vitalphenomena

[eyeshone]

Lot of headaches in here. Joey would pat his hospital bed for Yelling Man to sit, but it's literally in no position to offer that (re: V).

He glances at Fallon as she talks. At least someone in this room is looking better: she's back to having just one non-lethal head. Thumbs up to a gun-finger-point. "Looking good, Fallon!"

Joey's neck blushes as red as Elmo's when Dmitri calls him Fallon's husband. He's never been married. It's a fun accusation. Different than his typically heard insults (again, re: V (don't make him say it in full)).

He dangles his legs over the hospital bed. Joey is a shape there is no letter for. Most closely: an H with two of its limbs done in. Which is something he's scared Dmitri might do to him—and has done to others. So, H. Anyway, Joey is like this because it'll be easier to make a run for it, from Dmitri, if he needs to.

Elmo isn't real. Elmo is a muppet. You are a man. Imagine the hand that controls Elmo slipping out of his tiny, fuzzy, red body. Be Joey. Slow—firm but confused—Joey voice: "The ambulance?" Awesome.

@mctcrcity

UH??

she waves a hand quickly in joey’s direction, shushing AGAIN! it’s equal opportunity, dmitri, see?

this scenario (including the crunches—will be dealt with in journal later, n.t.s.) is making HER feel like she can’t think—and an astounding thing to leave fallon michelle harris short of thoughts, upon thoughts, upon thoughts. hats off, dmitri and joey!

“we have other stuff we gotta deal with!” fallon says hurriedly, then returns her attention to dmitri. a decent strategy in dealing with her employer is to not ignore his temporary grasps on common decency. “i am not hurt, i’m fine. we bumped heads…well. i smashed my head into his, then the sidewalk and stuff, and…”

he gets the picture. she continues her attempt at placating the somewhat-unplacatable. “we need to, like, not commit murder, because that’s super embarrassing, and the staff has been REALLY nice, and then split.. can we do that?”

@vitalphenomena

[eyeshone]

Fallon is not married and what Joey hears is single (he does a happy wiggle) which is not a synonymous jump. But he has a concussion.

Indignant, angry Elmo voice: “That’s not a practical threat!” But Joey rolls away from the button-side of the bed. He is tired of being a supine V. He does an armless crunch—he has abs, Fallon, look, he does another because she didn’t see—to scrunch-sit into a ball, body an N (he’s all letters today) in the middle of the bed. He looks like a squirrel perched in the limbed cross section of a tree. He is holding his head with both hands like a broken nut. Concentrate. Joey voice: “She saved me!” She also did the mind-suplex he needed saving from, but he’s not mentioning that. Partly because all his mind can focus on is Take the First Step mimic-recalled for the tenth time in a row. Is Elmo in Grouchland… brain damage? Is it overtaking the new, bruised spot of his brain like a turf war? God, he needs a doctor. They’re going to ask him questions. The real doctors and nurses. Like ‘Who is the president?’ But he can’t hear his own thoughts right now and Take the First Step does not provide any presidential information in its lyrics. Elmo voice: “WHO IS THE PRESIDENT?!”

@mctcrcity

she flinches, but doesn’t cower! then: “i am not married! that would be really critical information that i wouldn’t forget, dmitri!”

SOME OF US DO NOT HAVE SWISS CHEESE FOR—fallon cannot say this to him. she will write it, much too hard, in the little brown journal she’s sure will be EVIDENCE ARTICLE #005 someday later. but, for now she thinks it and fumes.

“if you must know everything i do, i was walking and he—!”

she’s very suddenly aware to herself again, to the fact there is a person who is not her or dmitri witnessing her and dmitri’s working relationship for the first time. concerning to most with a pulse.

her attention goes back to joey, who has nearly folded himself and is peering at the now-flashing (bad! shit! more people!) remote that’s fallen to the floor.

fast, in her best normal, customer service tone, just as a friendly nurse is starting a ‘hello?’ through the intercom: “sorry! accidental, we’ve got a nurse in here already!”, and waits for the light to click off.

then, half of her attention returns to whisper-yelling at dmitri, the rest on figuring out which combo of buttons will unpretzel joey.

“whatever you want, i can be there later, in a couple hours, but just please—go away!”

@vitalphenomena