FOR: OUTOFCONTROL

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Darlene could have waited around for Elliot to actually arrive back at his apartment, in the way that a normal sibling would have. She could have even shot off a text to the other to at least warn him that she was coming by, but that was another thing that a normal sister would have done and Darlene had long since proved that she was nothing that could have been considered a ‘normal sister’. But, when it all came down to it, were the Aldersons really a normal family to begin with? No, they hadn’t been for as long as Darlene could remember and they probably wouldn’t ever be again. Not with how much had gone on over the course of the years; the cold and uncaring attitude of their mother, the untimely and sudden death of their father, the slow deteriorating of Elliot’s sanity and eventual forgetting of… everything.

Normalcy was long gone, she’d come to terms with that.

So, what did Darlene the not-so-normal-sister decide to do instead of alerting her brother to her sudden arrival? Break in to his place, of course. Wasn’t that what any good sibling did when they wanted to order pizza, get high and watch cheap horror flicks? What she hadn’t been expecting when she’d finally managed to jimmy the lock open (a new one that Elliot had installed, probably in hopes that it would prevent her from doing exactly what she was doing at the moment.) was to see someone already sitting in her spot on the couch.

Was she in the wrong building?
Was she on the wrong floor?
Had she just broken into the entirely wrong apartment?

No. It couldn’t be. It looked just the right amount of shitty apartment to belong to none other than Elliot Alderson. But the guy that was on the couch… was not the wide-eyed, shifty figure of her brother.

“Uh. Okay... Who the hell are you?” She questioned, kicking the door closed with her foot, a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses pushed up onto the top of her head so that she could look at this mystery person without the dark tint of her lenses obscuring her vision.

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“Everything about me is precious, stop acting like it isn’t. I know when I’m not around that you refer to me as your precious baby sister.” Darlene laughed, a giggling sound that bubbled out of her thanks to the mixture of coke and weed whirling around in her system. She was starting to feel it now, and she couldn’t have felt better about deciding to steal the stash from someone who was far less in need of it than the three of them — and in Darlene’s mind there was no one more deserving of illegal feel-good drugs than herself, Elliot and John.

“It’s true. The doctors were all amazed at how fast I matured. I’m a real miracle case, they’re gonna do a Discovery Channel special on me soon.” She laughed, moving to where Elliot’s television and DVD player were, turning both of them on and plopping herself on the floor in front of them both, waiting for the DVD player to finish the process of actually turning on — for some reason, the more advanced that technology became the longer it took for things to be usable. — finding a stray piece of trash on the floor and tossing it blindly over her shoulder at Elliot.

Likely missing him. She wasn’t some kind of athlete, after all. Nor was she actually looking where she was throwing.

“25."

[ex_outofcontrol435]

28 and 25. So 11 and 8 years his senior. When they were all goofing off like this, the idea seemed surreal; even if he'd never been to one, John imagined that high school house parties must've been a lot like this, albeit with more people and less privacy.

He liked it better this way. He'd never been one to let many people into his circle of esteem, to put it very mildly: more accurately put, he hated pretty much everyone. But the Aldersons were alright.

God, he was relaxed. The information that had scrolled constantly across his mind like a news ticker since he'd turned 12 years old - temperatures and potential combustion rates of everything in range, hot spots he could likely manipulate, actual points of ignition like Elliot's cigarette standing out as white-hot pinpoints in his awareness - all of that suddenly seemed to be moving through molasses. A distant smile twisting his lips, he turned around so that his back was facing the couch and leaned back against it, quite close to Elliot's legs but not actually touching them. He was unusually quiet, and had been for a little while aside from his odd questions.

"This is fucking awesome," he finally said in a low, sleepy monotone, not really clarifying just what was so awesome, but it was pretty obvious. Compared to his usual aggressive, probing energy, the air John gave off now was nearly comatose.