[open & closed starters] december catch-all

[guitarpicks]

WHO: eddie munson + YOU
WHERE: all over
WHEN: december
WHAT: open & closed starters of all sorts in the comments. will be updated through the month.
WARNINGS: mentions of death/gore, self-deprecating language. will add more as they come up.

✦ let their souls rest
✦ avert your gaze, you peeping tom!

Comments

OPEN STARTERS

[guitarpicks]

[closed] for steve

[guitarpicks]

[ the last time eddie was missing, there were both a formal police search and a jock lead mob after him. well, not a mob. four teenagers lead by a maniacal bible thumper and a whole town who'd turned on him. not that they didn't have good reason.

when eddie stumbles back into the empty apartment he shares with steve harrington, he's not aware that this time there was also a jock-lead search. except that this time it involved less metaphorical pitchforks. maybe hawkins has left eddie jaded, but even though he's not sure how long he'd been in the shadowlands he's also sure that no one's too worried. sure wayne worried when he disappeared for a few days but that was his uncle.

and, unfortunately, the paranoia and panic eddie's been feeling since he left the apartment - he really doesn't remember why he left it - has mostly felt like his own. he'd been fighting for his survival out there!!!

the first thing eddie does is stumbles into the shower, gets the grime and gunk off of himself. afterward he changes into a pair of sweats and thread-bare black sabbath t-shirt he'd grabbed from his home in the shadowlands once he'd found it. then, well, he's tired. truth be told, eddie didn't sleep much out in the wastle land as he hid from creepy crawlies, tried not to get eaten or sold into slavery, or worse! turned into a coin.

he's pretty sure he and steve picked out bedrooms but eddie's too tired to remember as he finds the nearest one, throws himself on top of the covers and lets himself drift away. he should find his phone and let steve know that he's alive, yeah, but a quick nap won't stop him from doing that. it won't. it'll be a quick one, he tells himself before he's drifting off and losing track of time with his arms wrapped around a pillow he's pressing his face into firmly enough that it may look like he's suffocating himself. ]

[closed] for megumi

[guitarpicks]

let's hold hands, o' wary traveler

[ odd jobs are kind of eddie's cup of tea. mostly because being the town black sheep, local metalhead and alleged satan worshipper makes finding work a shitty endeavor. not that eddie's exactly for the track record for paying attention to one thing long enough to hold a job; fuck, he couldn't graduate on time after all.

the whole local drug dealer thing doesn't help so eddie's familiar with odd jobs. it's trickier when someone needs other people to get the whole job done though and when you need to hold someone's hand for the whole endeavor. eddie tries to think about this one like a quest but, weirdly, people take him seriously when he puts it in dnd terms so he's not sure what to do about that. he's used to it being off putting when he jumps on a table and makes a demand of the cafeteria.

here, well, he's standing on the edge of a fountain in mirth with his hands cupped to his mouth and sure he'll get some hits as he screams out. ] Wary traveler! If you're cold, have I got a job for you that will help you heat up and you don't even have to take your pants off!

[ nailed it, edward. ]

[closed] for mccoy

[guitarpicks]

[ even back home, eddie's never quite ready for winter. he's always lived in places with snow, sure, but somehow it always surprises him when the leaves finish their kamikaze jumps from the branches and the first snow hits the ground.

keeping track of the change was the last thing on his mind most of the time, until the snow thawed and he had to figure out how much work he had to put into the upcoming semester and if it would even be possible to graduate. at least that had been the song and dance of the last three years, until chrissy and the upside down.

this time he's not prepared because this place has no rhyme or reason. at least as far as he can tell. he makes his way back to the shadowlands to check if any of his winter clothes, like the jacket he finally got last year, have made it into his closet and nope. no luck.

so eddie's rocking his leather jacket and the vest he died in (how grim) to keep warm, manages to get a scarf thanks to that five finger discount. it doesn't do much, he's damn cold whenever he's outside but at least he's sticking to the whole 80s metalhead aesthetic as he's shivering his ass off. some days, when it's not as cold, eddie busks to make a few extra coins. today there aren't really many people out and eddie's fingers are blue by the time he sets his guitar down.

sitting at the edge of a fountain in the square where can normally draw a more captivated audience, he looks at the tips of his fingers and frowns at how red they are. after a moment, he tries to bend his right hand and hisses. ] Yeah, that's not good...

[ he stuffs both hands in his pockets, pushes himself up to stand and looks around the square. fire would help so he tries his luck with the nearest passerby, someone he's pretty sure he recognizes coming his way. ] Hey, doc! Got a match or a lighter?