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 clean up on aisle..., @puck e. rogers
Mar 18 2017, 01:30 AM
he/him
twenty-four


power negation
drug dealer
judas vasiliev
mica [she/her] • 82 posts


Judas didn't need a reason to get drunk and high. He had all the supplies he needed in his little run down apartment. And it wasn't like he had a job or any real responsibilities to get to in a day. It was enough reason to fade out of the world for a little bit, even if it was a weekday and still light out.

To be honest, when he thought these sort of things he just got really high in his apartment and ordered food. But this time he got more fucked up then he meant to and couldn't figure out what he wanted or even how to order anything. He stared at his brick phone for what felt like hours before he felt okay enough to stand up and stagger his way to Walmart, not daring to danger his baby (aka his car) with the drive.

The clouds above made him thankful he'd was wearing a hoodie before he got high (the mental capacity he'd need to struggle in a hoodie was beyond him right now). And when the automatic doors to Walmart slid open he felt like kneeling and saying a prayer.

'Weird,' he thought, while staring at the tiled floor that had been much further away a second ago. It took him too long to realize he was actually kneeling and by that time the elderly person that greeted customers at the door was staring hard at him.

He got off the floor as quickly as he could, stumbling back a few steps before spotting exactly what he needed for his wobbly legs: a motorized cart near the door. With the greeter still staring, he hopped in (his knees sort of straddling the basket in front because his legs were much too long for it), and zipped away as fast as the cart could carry him with a proud grin on his face.

Distantly, he remembered picking up prepackaged sushi, a bottle of wine, and mini cinnamon buns. He grabbed everything that looked good and remembered feeling thirsty and hungry but the feeling passing away quickly. He was more concerned about the whispers of other shoppers around him, the weed making his paranoia rise.

The next few minutes (seconds, hours?) happened in slow motion. He heard someone's bored voice speak over the store speakers--"Clean up on aisle..." And when he looked around for the source he spotted the half-empty wine bottle in his hand and a rotisserie chicken in his lap.

There was also opened packages of sushi and cinnamon buns in his basket and a trail of packaging leading down the aisle he was in straight to his cart. Following the trail back down the aisle he spotted a familiar face, though it took him a second to place it.

"Puck?" he finally slurred. The heavy weight of the chicken in his lap felt heavier when he saw the bright blue Walmart vest Puck was wearing. He added, waving to his basket, "Imma pay for all this."

puck! remember, you asked for this!!
Apr 5 2017, 08:10 PM
he/him
twenty-four


levitation
wal-mart employee
puck e. rogers
sparky [she/her] • 46 posts


faces come out of the rain
tag: @judas vasiliev //
notes: lmfao i love it already
Puck was always the one they sent to deal with disasters when he was on shift. He was the only one that seemed comfortable enough dealing with someone who was out of control, or causing a scene. And he knew how to diffuse a situation long before it ever got close to blowing up in their faces. Puck just had that way about him. An easiness that people responded well to, even when they were freaking out. So he wasn’t surprised when, yet again, his manager asked him to go deal with a situation in aisle seven. Apparently someone had made a real mess of themselves.

The surprise came only when he had made it to the mess itself. And it wasn’t the strewn about packages of open food, or the half-empty bottle of wine that caused Puck to raise an eyebrow. No, that sort of bullshit was normal in their shitty south side Walmart. The surprising part was who had cause the mess in the first place. Laying there with a rotisserie chicken in his lap and wine bottle in hand, was Judas, a regular guest of the Trash House. ”Oh, I’m sure you are.” he responded easily, kneeling down next to his friend? Acquaintance? He wasn’t sure what they were to each other. But in that moment, Puck was the one person that would be able to keep his manager from calling the cops on this idiot.

”What’cha doin’ down here, Judas?” It was clear what he was doing, honestly. But Puck found making conversation was easier than making accusations. People responded better to it. Especially when they were high as a fucking kite. He picked up the rotisserie chicken and set it aside, amongst the other trash strewn about around them. ”You take some good shit?”

People are strange when you're a stranger Faces look ugly when you're alone Women seem wicked when you're unwanted Streets are uneven when you're down
May 22 2017, 08:53 PM
he/him
twenty-four


power negation
drug dealer
judas vasiliev
mica [she/her] • 82 posts


He was really, really glad that Puck was wearing a name badge and that Judas wasn't relying on his own body to keep him upright and stable right now. Otherwise he might have forgotten the guy's name. He didn't really know Puck, except in passing. And although the sight of a slightly out of focus Puck was familiar to Judas, it wasn't familiar for him to be this trashed without Puck being at least somewhat on the same level.

If Judas had the ability to be ashamed or embarrassed now would be the time, but instead he found it pretty fucking hilarious.

A sound escaped his lips that sounded suspiciously like a giggle but he tramped down hard on the feeling, biting his lips to keep the sound from growing.

"Sorry," he said, muffled, as he attempted to talk while still biting his lips. He pointed to the things in the motorized basket he was still straddling and stopped biting his lips to explain.

"I uh, yeah, may be high," he said as if that wasn't obvious, "got hungry, so you know. Ate." After a pause, he added, "I didn't know you worked, man." It was a testament to the type of people he knew that he didn't say 'worked here', the fact that Puck worked at all seemingly amazing to the older male.

"I was drinking too," he blurted, suddenly wanting to explain why he was so wrecked. Not wanting to seem like a lightweight in front of the blonde. A desire to keep his reputation being more important than feeling responsible for the mess he made for a supposed friend.

@puck e. rogers i'm so sorry for the lateness of this post, my posts will be way more frequent from now on
Jun 11 2017, 01:01 AM
he/him
twenty-four


levitation
wal-mart employee
puck e. rogers
sparky [she/her] • 46 posts


faces come out of the rain
tag: @judas vasiliev //
notes: lmfao i love it already
Puck raised an eyebrow at the giggle that escaped the other man, but otherwise said nothing. ”Happens more often than you’d think.” he said simply, picking up a wrapper off the floor next to him. There was something about a Walmart (especially one on the southside) that attracted all sorts of weirdos and hijinks. Puck couldn’t help but think this wasn’t the case in any other grocery store in town. It was like entering another world. One with low prices on potato chips and grown men having lightsaber battles in the cereal aisle.

”Gotta make rent somehow.” Though it was becoming abundantly clear, the more he had to deal with messes like this, that he needed to find a new source of income. Walmart wasn’t where he wanted to be five years from now. It wasn’t even where he wanted to be now. The job had only been temporary in the beginning. He was only going stay as long as it took for him to figure out where to go next. And then he’d moved into the trash house. Now it had been two years, the longest he’d bothered to stay put in one place since he started this whole thing to begin with. And it was starting to look like he might actually stay put for good this time. Or at least for the foreseeable future. If he was going to do that, he was going to need something more tolerable than fucking Walmart to keep him going.

”I can see that.” Puck gestured vaguely at the wine bottle. Seeing Judas in this state was nothing new. They had met at a number of trash house get togethers and done a number of drugs together in the process. But usually Puck was on the same level as him. Not responsible for any of the messes made until they all sobered up together and could laugh about it later. That wasn’t the case this time. ”C’mon. I gotta get this cleaned up. Do you need a ride home or something, man?” He didn’t exactly trust that Judas would be okay if he just let him walk out the doors like this.

People are strange when you're a stranger Faces look ugly when you're alone Women seem wicked when you're unwanted Streets are uneven when you're down
Jul 4 2017, 10:56 PM
he/him
twenty-four


power negation
drug dealer
judas vasiliev
mica [she/her] • 82 posts


"That fucking sucks, bro," Judas semi-shouted before he could stop himself. He adjusted himself on the motorized scooter, and tried to help picking up his mess from his seated position while he spoke. "You shouldn't have to deal with this shit on the daily." The thing was, Judas knew he was the fuck up that was contributing to Puck's problem, but he didn't want to be. Now that it wasn't a nameless, faceless corporation he was metaphorically flipping off with his antics (although he truly did not do this on purpose), he felt pretty bad about it.

"You ever need help with rent, come see me," he said. He wasn't being cocky about it. Once the words passed his lips, he knew he would find Puck some work if he really wanted it. "If you ever get tired of this shit," he waved around, partially including himself, but also pointing out the hard florescent lighting and the vague sound of screaming children that always seemed to echo in Walmart. "Hit me up. Seriously."

He realized somewhere in his foggy brain that not everyone would take up an offer from a drug dealer. Even the work he had in mind was more drug dealing. But he wouldn't get Puck into anything that would get him in too much trouble. Some weed, if packaged small enough, and with specific instructions on how much to keep on him, and Puck could make a couple hundred a week without more than some hassle if he ever got caught with it. In Judas' world, that was safe, clean money. Judas didn't have any context for anything better.

When he stood up the ground swayed more than he expected, but again, he didn't want to look like a bitch, so he took it, although he stayed leaning hard against the scooter. While he kept an eye on the spinning ground, he said slowly, "where?" But already forgot what he was asking about.

He scrambled his brain and tried again, "I don't need help, I can pick this up." At his words, he leaned down to pick up some trash and stumbled, almost falling straight on his face. "I'm cool, I'm cool."

@puck e. rogers *peace sign*
Jul 11 2017, 11:15 PM
he/him
twenty-four


levitation
wal-mart employee
puck e. rogers
sparky [she/her] • 46 posts


faces come out of the rain
tag: @judas vasiliev //
notes: lmfao i love it already
He couldn’t help but laugh. It was somewhat ironic, considering Judas was currently part of the “shit” he was claiming Puck shouldn’t have to deal with. But it was also kind of endearing. If Judas was capable of such a thing. He wasn’t adorable like Rainbow, or ridiculous like Noah. But he was a part of the trash house, still, even if he’d moved out before Puck showed up. And it seemed impossible to dislike anyone that called the trash house their home. ”It could be worse.” he shrugged. Puck was a resilient dude. He could deal with whatever Walmart threw at him. Some jackass getting high and making a mess was nothing.

”Thanks, man.” Puck didn’t think he’d ever be desperate enough to go into Judas’ line of work. But the offer was still appreciated. They may not have known one another very well, but he still seemed to have Puck’s back. Before Chicago he couldn’t say he trusted many people. But he had friends now. More than he’d had in a long time. And it was nice. Perhaps another side-effect of living in the trash house. There was a comradery, a familial sort of bond. They looked out for each other. Puck knew if Judas ever needed him, he’d be there without question just the same. Sort of like he was now, he supposed. Without him, Judas probably would have had the cops called on him at this point. He was lucky.

Puck eyed the other man as he stood up, watching the way he wobbled slightly. He didn’t look so hot, if he was being honest (he always was). ”Are you oka-” Before he could finish the sentence, Judas was leaning over and looked dangerously close to faceplanting. Puck grabbed for his arm as he stumbled, holding him steady. ”C’mon, relax. I got this shit.” He picked up a few more wrappers and set them in the basket of the scooter. ”Did you drive here?”

People are strange when you're a stranger Faces look ugly when you're alone Women seem wicked when you're unwanted Streets are uneven when you're down
Jul 23 2017, 06:01 PM
he/him
twenty-four


power negation
drug dealer
judas vasiliev
mica [she/her] • 82 posts


He hardly heard what Puck was saying, the world slowly swirling around him in dizzying circles. "Nah I'm good," He slurred, unconvincingly, even to himself. What was today, a Wednesday? He should feel ashamed, but while he dug for the emotion, all he felt was hunger and like he wanted to take a long nap.

Judas was aware of the grip Puck had on his arm and distantly realized without it he would probably fall. In any other situation he might have shrugged off the help, but this was a friend. He'd acted like more of a jackass in Puck's presence than just today and he'd probably do more of it in the future. Why try and present himself as anything more than a fuckup? When he would just disappoint Puck later.

"Baby?" he answered with a question. "No, I left her at home. I'm stupid, but I'm not that fucking stupid." He was talking about his car but didn't have the presence of mind to figure out whether Puck knew that he'd named his classic 1969 Camaro 'Baby'. He would never endanger her, he was already spending most of his drug money keeping her well in tune and parked safe under a custom protective tarp in a private garage on the south side. It was annoying having to pick her up when he wanted to drive around in her, but she was the one love in his life, and he was willing to make sacrifices.

He was using Puck's grip on his arm as a mental anchor for the slowly spinning world. He realized he was slightly taller than the solid male and worked to stand up straight without slowly leaning to one side.

"I can get back on my own," he said. But as he said the words, he reached for Puck's hand around his own arm and held tightly, willing the spinning to stop, and failing.

@puck e. rogers *peace sign*
Aug 6 2017, 12:55 AM
he/him
twenty-four


levitation
wal-mart employee
puck e. rogers
sparky [she/her] • 46 posts


faces come out of the rain
tag: @judas vasiliev //
notes: lmfao i love it already
He didn’t sound so good. And Puck suspected that he knew that somewhere inside his foggy brain, too. He was rocky at best, wobbling and relying on the other man’s support to keep his feet underneath of him. If he was good, Puck wouldn’t have been there to begin with. But he tried not to argue, even as he refused to let go of his hold on him.

Baby. That confused him at first. But he was quick to catch on. The memory of the vintage car sitting in the driveway of the trash house one night when he came home after his shift, finding Judas on the couch with Rainbow and Noah, giggling over something while they passed a joint around. ”Alright. I’m glad you weren’t driving like this.” he said easily. Puck never approved of driving under the influence. He approved even less of his friends putting themselves in any sort of life-threatening danger that could easily be avoided. Knowing Judas had left the car at home gave him some peace of mind.

Judas insisted he could get back home on his own. But instead of peeling Puck’s fingers away from his arm like he’d expected, he held on tightly. ”Hey. I’ve got you, man.” He knew Judas was kind of stubborn and headstrong. But he hoped he could accept that Puck was his friend here. And he wasn’t going to let go. Even if he thought he wanted him to. ”I can drive you home. Or to the trash house. Get you something to eat? ” he offered, voice soft and easy. He’d have to convince someone else to cover the tail end of his shift, but he figured that would be easy when the other option was dealing with Judas themselves.

People are strange when you're a stranger Faces look ugly when you're alone Women seem wicked when you're unwanted Streets are uneven when you're down
Aug 17 2017, 02:27 AM
he/him
twenty-four


power negation
drug dealer
judas vasiliev
mica [she/her] • 82 posts


"You don't gotta do shit for me dude," he made some effort to match his words, straightening his stance despite the spinning going on in his head. He'd never drink again, he promised himself mentally. But the words were familiar from the last time that he had lied to himself. This is what happened when he lived in a shit hole apartment, full of drugs, alcohol, and no cable. He should have texted Dino and watched cartoons at his place. Now he was just making himself look more and more like an ass.

He repeated Puck's question in his head, going in and out of the conversation being held down that he had other things to focus on. Like standing up straight and trying not to lean too hard on Puck.

"I could go for food," he said as an answer. He still had the vague taste of rotisserie chicken in his mouth, but he wanted nothing more than to leave the fluorescent lighted hellhole.

He started a vague meander towards the door still using Puck's arm for support and trying his best to walk a straight line. Without him, he'd probably fall. Stumbling around, he noticed they were getting looks, and gave a few hand signs yelling "the fuck you looking at," when his stare-down wasn't enough for them to look away.

When he saw the checkout counter near the door, he remembered the food he'd promised to pay. He twisted towards Puck and accidentally bumped his head straight into Puck's shoulder. Somehow he was hunching again. But he dug in his pockets, pulling out a lighter, blunt papers, and trash, that all fell to the ground until he found what he was looking for.

"Here," he said, giving Puck a roll of bills. It was about $300 worth of cash and literally all he had, but he shoved it in Puck's hand. "For the shit," he said waving to the aisle they'd just left.

@puck e. rogers *peace sign*
Sep 14 2017, 12:47 AM
he/him
twenty-four


levitation
wal-mart employee
puck e. rogers
sparky [she/her] • 46 posts


faces come out of the rain
tag: @judas vasiliev //
notes: lmfao i love it already
”No, but I’d like to.” Puck didn’t have to do a lot of the things that he did for other people. But he was inherently incapable of being a selfish person. He liked to help. And if he knew he was in a position where he could, he absolutely always would. It was the right thing to do. Even if Judas was agitated and still clearly working through whatever concoction of dope and alcohol and god knows what else he’d consumed before finding himself strewn across an aisle in Walmart. Puck could handle this. It was a walk in the park compared to some of the shit he had dealt with since taking the job here. At least he knew Judas (kind of).

Puck nodded quietly. Okay. Food. There was a Wendy’s nearby. Or a McDonald’s. And probably other places, too. At this point he’d take Judas wherever he wanted to go, as long as it wasn’t here. He didn’t want him causing any more of a scene. Mostly because he didn’t want to see the guy get into any real trouble. They weren’t close, he didn’t know much about him. But Puck was pretty sure he’d heard someone say that Judas had already been to prison once. It was hard to imagine what that might’ve been like, but it certainly couldn’t have been good. Puck didn’t know what kinds of marks he had against him, what would get him back in hot water or not. He didn’t want to find out, really. Certainly not the hard way. ”Where do you want to go?”

But his question was soft, while Judas’ outburst toward the onlookers was loud. He wasn’t sure he heard him. And he didn’t press the subject. ”Hey, it’s cool, man. Fuck all of them.” Their ogling was the least of his worries right now. Puck’s other arm came up instinctively as Judas twisted around and bumped into his shoulder. It was kind of like an awkward hug, except for the fact that Judas was too busy digging in his pockets to participate. When he shoved the wad of cash into Puck’s hand, it was clear that there was a lot more there than he actually owed for the mess. And Puck knew he’d be giving as much of it back as he could after things settled down. But for now he just pocketed the money. ”Thanks, man. You’re a good guy.”

People are strange when you're a stranger Faces look ugly when you're alone Women seem wicked when you're unwanted Streets are uneven when you're down
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