Good people get fed

Who: Ben and Jeremy
Where: Main Street
When: Dusk

The passage of days was easier to get through whenever Ben found a constant he could rely on, something larger than his own work. He liked unifying concepts, liked the idea of an intention or ideal that connected the days together. He'd decided, with the start of a new day, that for the time being that theme would be 'trying'. After all, that had been his constant motivator ever since coming here. Trying to readjust, trying to talk to people, trying to get his head around the mental gaps created by the absence of others. And now? Well, now was Ben's first day of trying to venture farther than his own yard.

He'd spent the whole day steeling himself for this; anxiously drumming out erratic time signatures with his fingers while staring out the window, showering twice without even bothering to dry off completely, cranking his head[pones as loud as they'd go and listening to both sides of Zepplin's '4', anything to try and bleed off the nervous energy he felt. Finally, after waiting for another scheduled dose of medication, Ben was doing it. Rather, he was trying. He'd moved away from his own yard and was covering the sidewalk in slow shuffle-steps, an open can of peas in one hand and a spoon in the other as he nervously guided them to his mouth, chewing them to mush to stifle his untrustworthy tongue as he moved ever-closer to the corner.

If Jeremy had a word for the day it would be optimism or possibly effort. He'd gone out for a walk, paid a friendly visit, updated his journal and in general done a lot of things he might have done before he ever knew about the experiment. It felt good, made him feel almost normal again and maybe it even inspired a little hope. He was out walking again, now that he was getting used to the outdoors it seemed like he almost needed to be there rather than inside. Since nobody had threatened him or attacked him yet, that fear was also slowly subsiding, or at least it wasn't as crippling as it had been at first.

He was coming up Park Road when he happened to spot Ben and found himself a little surprised to see the man out and about and away from his house. It was Ben, after all, and he really didn't expect him to go any further than his front step. But there he was and Jeremy stopped and gave him a small wave from where he stood on the corner.

Ben shouldn't have been surprised to see someone else; he knew there were others here after all. People from his experiment, from other experiments, and people who chose to come here. All the same, Ben's mind didn't usually operate on levels of rationale that most people frequented. He twitched bodily at the sight of the other man, dropping the spoon from suddenly nerveless fingers. Familiar, he thought in dull recognition of the other man, bending without a word to reclaim the dropped utensil. Standing back up, Ben had to suck in a calming breath as he looked at the horizon again, resisting the urge to reach back for a wall behind him. "Walking the sunset again?" he asked in greeting, slowly remembering Jeremy's name and the details of their first meeting.

"Just walking," Jeremy replied with a smile. "And you, you're walking too." He wondered idly if that girl who'd said she'd go shopping for Ben on the journals hadn't come through and felt a pang of guilt for not offering his help. "Are you going somewhere special?" He asked, his gaze trailing down to Ben's can of peas, the sight of it bringing to mind scenarios like the fifties nuclear scare, fallout shelters and cans of goods. Their surrounding didn't help much in that regard either. "Going shopping?"

Ben shook his head emphatically at the suggestion, working free a single pea that had hidden itself in the mess of beard he wore on his cheeks. "Not a single thread of chance on that loom," he muttered, wiping the spoon off on his shirt and dropping it into the mostly-eaten can. This was a panic-worthy situation for him; away from his security and confronted, he wanted to just run back inside. He could feel chills racing along his spine, but Jeremy had been nice to him. Had humored him and even seemed interested. "Row on row on row of the same thing with different words. Cans and bags and boxes all piled high and sorted in a system that makes you want to buy and wear down your legs and wallet just to see what gives first. Just... walking," he finished with a heavy inhale, blinking as he realized he'd echoed Jeremy.

Insane ramblings, maybe, but at least Ben was right about the stores and the subconscious crap they pulled to get people to buy more than they intended coming in. Jeremy couldn't help but wonder if they did that here too, considering what sort of place this was. He just nodded along with Ben sympathetically and eyed the can again, that just couldn't taste good. "I see you got someone to go for you," he said and gestured to it with a smile. "You got everything you need?"

"And more," Ben said plainly, nodding for an actual answer. "Cans and bags and boxes all piled high," he repeated, frowning in consternation as he realized, "Stuffed in the freezer and stacked on shelves, resting in cupboards cabinets pantries and drawers, more than I could want or eat or want to eat when I remember that it's vital." Ben followed Jeremy's gaze to the can in his grip then traveled back up as he offered it out. "Hungry? Corn too. Frozen carrots, oven fries, TV dinners, soup... it just sits, ovens and I burn each other."

"No, thanks," Jeremy said, just barely resisting a laugh. He didn't want Ben to think he was laughing at him or his peas, God forbid. "Doesn't sound like you need anything. Remember you can always call me though, if you do." He wondered why he felt this urge to help Ben out, maybe it was a small way of making mends for not being able to put a stop to the experiment. Making up to him for all those little things Jeremy had done to the people in the house before the pulled him out.

Once again Ben's head nodded energetically for an answer, his shuffling steps aiming him back towards his home. "Try to," he muttered, knowing he should expand upon the thought but not knowing what words to use. "Patience flowing in you people, in purposes," he rambled instead, "Makes me worry. Not used to having time taken and spent, invested in me. Never had to open my door before, say hello to all but a handful, big hand that accommodates people. Don't like worrying about good things, seems like wasted fear. Can't help it though." That last bit was said somewhat forlornly as Ben started away from where he'd been speaking with Jeremy, his eyes set on the half-opened door of his house.

That particular rant was hard to follow and Jeremy furrowed his brows as he listened and tried to make sense of it, running it back through his head. For that reason he was slow to answer, watching Ben's retreating back with a puzzled expression. But then it slowly sank in and he arched his brows in realization. "Oh, I'm sorry if I'm worrying you. Guess I'm just a little starved for..." What was he starved for? Normalcy? Being healthy and sane and helpful? Heroic even? Or was it just redemption he felt he needed. He didn't complete his sentence, gaze downcast now to the pavement as he tried to puzzle out what it was he wanted and wondered if Ben even cared if he continued rattling on.

"Sanity," Ben finished for him, stopping before he looked back over. "Full time job in a world that's always changing. Bad Religion," he quoted with a flicker of a smile appearing under the mass of beard. "Starved for it, same as me. Belly distended, spit caked in your mouth, just want a taste of sanity to savor." He saw the look on Jeremy's face, the confusion over what was supposed to come next, and Ben knew it was just a mirror of his own. "Store's run out, shelves all empty... we'll keep fasting." He wished on some level that he could be coherent enough to even try and soothe Jeremy's confusion, but knew his own was enough of a problem to try and contend with. "You're good people. Good people get fed," he said in apparent parting, turning back around without waiting for a reply to keep moving for his door.

Jeremy supposed he was grateful for that last bit, though the imagery that Ben's speech invoked left a sour taste in his mouth. He watched Ben walk away for a moment before seemingly realizing the conversation was over. "Take care, Ben," he muttered and glanced up the street he'd been walking before, looking at it for a moment before starting on his way again.
"I'll see you around."