Just like children sleeping

( [Private to Self, Hackable] )

[Public]

Okay, like, you know what? Screw all this stuff about being losers or jocks or whatever! It's like, the people running around like they own the place, getting off on putting people down or whatever? They're the real losers, and if they think I'm gonna pretend they're half the hot shit they think they are, they've so got another thing coming!

[This, I believe, would be the other losers' cue to try and save him from his own big mouth, or the jocks' cue to visit on him the violence (apparently) due to a scrawny, mouthy little thing who doesn't always speak English or dress according to gender norms. Poland might be a loser, for this event, but he's never a quitter.]

Okay, so like, it's totally not like we haven't had creepy-ass events before, right? Like, with the vampires, and everybody's worst fears, and junk. We dealt then, and we can deal, right? Right!

So I've totally been thinking, we should stick together in small groups. More than two, but like, not so many you can lose track of each other, right?

[He's not following his own advice, but he totally intends to... at some point?]

Also, I'm gonna go ahead and claim the kitchen as a safe zone. Anybody wanna help me defend it?

[Well.]

[Poland appears not to have noticed yet that he's high as all fuck, so he's kept eating the candy, figuring he's just like, in a good mood or something. To be fair, his normal state is pretty cheerful and nonsensical, and he's chalking the disorientation up to the mansion's physical changes and the strange lights and music.]

[But! It's not important right now!]

[Because he found a bunch of body paints! He's got his (already slightly scandalous for him) t-shirt pulled up over his stomach, and the fingertips of one hand covered in purple paint, a smudge of it already evident near his navel.]

Guys! I like, forgot what I was drawing. What was I gonna draw? It's super important, I swear.

Also, like. Where are you? You're far away. I miss youuuuu~ You totally still like me, right? [Smiles, a little distantly.] 'Cause I'm awesome? And you're awesome. God, you're like. The awesomest. Ok?

[...I don't think he's talking to anyone in particular.]

[When the curse hits, Poland is in the kitchen, grabbing a glass of milk and a thick slice of good bread to cure his midnight munchies. He's making his way back home, snack in hand, still unarmed and barefooted and in his pajamas, when he hears the sound of men marching in too-precise unison.]

[Around the corner, about half a dozen soldiers appear, in uniform. Wearing the insignia the Major wore, the one Poland saw all over those history books from the future before he decided to put them away and think on them as little as possible.]

[He's wide-eyed in panic for a moment, then darts into the nearest room to hide. And get a weapon. Not necessarily in that order.]

[Outside, the soldiers begin knocking on doors, searching for him.]

[OOC: Anyone who interacts with Poland WILL NOT RECOGNIZE HIM, and he gives off a sort of aura that make them all instinctively view helping him as far more trouble than it's worth, which is what he's really afraid of. Also, if you live on the first or fifth floor and want to say the room he picked at random to flee into was yours, please do!]

[The camera turns on just in time to catch Poland just about to launch into a hissyfit. Unfortunately for him, unless he's actually, literally about to go grab his sword and stab a bitch, his anger tends to be fairly... flaily and adorable and hard to take seriously. This post contains a gratuitous amount of pouting and foot-stamping.]

Okay, like, you know what? No. Totally uncool! Ohmigod, you like, show up out of nowhere, hide in our room making creepy noises half the night, freaking jump into our bed like you didn't do anything wrong--okay, no, whatever, I'm cool with that, it's cold, I get that, but you seriously could have asked, or like, not gotten all up in between us and taken all the blankets--and now this?

Not okay!

Seriously, what did the horses do to you?! [The two small gray aliens in front of him mutter something incomprehensible, in obviously feigned shame.] Like, how would you feel if someone braided your manes and tails together? If you weren't all weird and bald, I mean. Yeah, I totally thought so! Gawd, this is totally gonna take me all morning to fix!

[The aliens look up at him with their enormous eyes, and he pouts right back down at them, fuming.] Oh, don't even. Don't even, honey. Look, just... go bug someone else, before I for real try kicking you out the window!

[They skitter off, doubtless to go bother poor Liet instead.]