milliways_bar | The Real Slim Timmy!

Entry tags:

tim hunter

The Real Slim Timmy!

((OOM: Concerning incarceration, and Oops.))

The front door slams open. Oddly, instead of bouncing back and hitting the person who slammed it like it should, it just stays against the wall. Maybe it understands.

In the door itself, there is a figure outlined in blue flames, his black clothes as normal. Even the red tie. Behind sunglasses, a darker blue glow blazes. His hands are clenched as he walks forward, each foot carefully placed. It should be noted that the blazing aura is doin g no damage whatsoever.

But Tim is a little bit ticked off at having been held hostage by figments of his imagination for well over two months.

Come let him know he's been missed, maybe?

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"Something a bit stonger than tea?" Molly suggests, motioning him to have a seat at a nearby table.

She doesn't wait for an answer, and leaves. She returns moments later with a teapot and cups levitating in front of her, and a bottle of Fire Whiskey and a shot glass in the hand not hold her wand.

She set them all on the table and pours him a generous amount of whiskey.

And he drinks it down rather quickly.

"This is getting... I'm not used to me's who are good people."

Might say a lot about his own mental state.

"You're a good person," Molly tells him sternly. "Why wouldn't other incarnations of you be good as well?"

Molly pours herself some tea, and resists the urge to had a bit of whiskey to it.

She does, however pout Tim another shot, and then nudges a cup of tea in front of him as well.

Tim sips at the tea, then takes the whiskey in hand again.

"Most of the ones who show up here are the villain type, y'know, the ones who.... Molly, why do you smell like me?"

Very sudden change of direction, but....

Well- that's blunt.

"Er..." she not really blushing hard enough for her face to catch fire, but it's a close thing. Maybe she'll have some of that Firewhiskey after all. "Well, they can't all be villains."

Yes! Try to distract him by ignoring the question! Damn it all, there's not another shot glass.

She picks up the whiskey bottle and pours a good bit into her tea, stirring it nervously with her wand to rewarm it.

Tims face has gone very pale.

And then his head hits the table, as he covers it with his arms.

What was said might be "Your mrflgh are gonna kill me!"

Molly gulps her doctored tea, and welcomes the burn as it slides down her throat.

She hadn't really thought of what this Tim might think or say or do about anything she'd done with the other Tim. In fact, she hadn't really been thinking about this Tim (or much else after a certain point) at all.

There was nothing to be done about it now, though, was there?

"Who's going yo kill you?" she asks, her voice a bit gravelly after the whiskey.

His head snaps up.

"Er.... that depends on how much you know of the fluidity of time in this place. "

Her children, oh god, Ron!

"Pretty much next to nothing." Molly says, sipping the tea this time. "Why should anyone kill you, anyway? It's not like you did anything wrong."

She narrows her eyes, not liking the slightly panicked look in his.

"And I didn't either."

"Right."

He nods again, and downs the whiskey.

"Right. Right."

He downs the No, she didn't refill it, but, hey, magic.

"Right."

I'm so screwed.

"You're upset that that other Tim and I...?"

She gestures vaguely to the staircase leading to the rooms above. It's obvious what happened without going into detail about it.

She really doesn't see why he's so upset.

I'm upset I didn't get any.....

"No. Juyst... kinda weirded out, y'know?"

"I guess... but I honestly wasn't thinking of you at the time, if that makes sense. I was thinking about him. He isn't an exact copy of you- he's younger and just...different, somehow."

She will not ask if this Tim also has a birthmark on... no, don't even go there.

More energetic. Muscular. Acrobatic. Better Hung... okay, maybe not the last one.

"Molly... So, how's school?"

Smooooth change of subject!

And give the other Tim a break, he's only eighteen, he's got time to grow into all that (though personally Molly wouldn't believe the 'more energetic' part).

"It's been an interesting week," she says.

The undisputed master of understatement, she is.

She could always put them both to the test.... At the same time?

"Good, good.... Oh, god, this is getting complicated, isn;t it?"

Molly is somewhat amused, and tries not to show it.

"It doesn't have to be complicated," she says. "What's complicated about it? What's got you so worked up?"

"My normal way fo dealing with alternate me's is to kill them."

It's true.

Molly's eyes snap fire.

"Don't you dare."

"I'm finding i shouldn't."

And he sips at the tea.

"Wait a minute. If all of these other Tim's are your creations, or pieces of you, isn't that like killing your kids, or pieces of yourself or something?"

A bit more whiskey finds its way into her cup, which is now empty of tea.

"No."

He toys with his cup.

"It's more like throwing away a tissue of snot."

"That's a horrible thing to say!" Molly scolds. "Whether you meant to create them or not, It's obvious (to me at least) that some real real good came of it. There has to be more than just you and this other Tim that are good."

A snort.

"Does it matter? All of them are dead, including him."

Molly startles badly and this bit of news, and drops her teacup in shock. I shatters of the floor, but she doesn't notice.

"Dead?"

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