So I know I worried you all, with those streams and the disappearing and everything, but I’m okay now! Gonna be in the hospital for a bit but I’ll be back on track as soon as I can.
We’re going for he/him pronouns, in case you were wondering! I’ll figure out tags later- I just wanted to get something out there and let you know I’m okay.
Edit: Tags!
IC: #in-vested
OOC: #genlost the plot
Original posts: #clever chat pun
Talking to cast/ex-cast: #rgb but more and fucked up
Asks, anons and strangers: #what’s gooping gunkers (this is the tag to go for if you’re not sure whether I answered your ask!)
The end of a long rb chain: #and scene
TWs: This blog includes spoilers for Generation Loss as well as medical talk, injury and scars, abuse, starvation, cannibalism (see prior tag), serious mental illness/disorders and medication-related health complications.
This is a RP blog for post-show Charlie from Generation Loss! Rather, it’s a blog full of headcanons that mix with the others’ and our own plot because we’re filling in gaps-
…so basically fanfiction. It’s genloss fanfiction co-written by a cast and an audience. Read through, have fun, and feel free to ask and interact! If you want to join us, we’d be super happy to have you.
Extra special secret tags: #the hidden star (Star), #clever rat pun (Darwin), #what (Other AUs), #clever.chat.pun (Black Mold), #chat has arrived (the eyes) and #the genboopening (boop!)
[Charlie keeps moving as soon as he’s able, trying not to look too panicked in his search for someone who hasn’t met the mold. It takes two- three, if the first nurse counts- attempts to find a nervous-looking doctor in full PPE.]
Hey!
[They turn to look at him, and nod once. Encouraged, he comes closer, but they take a step back and turn like they’re going to run.]
Wait, fuck, don’t go- I need someone who isn’t infected with this shit!
[That’s not helping his case, is it? He wheels faster as they start off in the opposite direction.]
Someone told me you could get it out of me. I- need it out. It’s gonna kill me, Doctor, please.
[They stop. Oh thank fuck. Okay, this is good, they’re listening! He has a chance.]
‘You want it gone?’
[They sound confused. He gets why - who in their right mind would get rid of a gift like this? He’s just not willing to deal with the side effects anymore.]
I do. I do, I do, I don’t care what you have to do- it doesn’t hurt me. It didn’t mean to hurt us, but it is and I’m sorry I’m- sorry but I need it to stop before it fucking melts me.
[Charlie stares. His eyelid twitches, and he hates how conscious he is about his blinking now that he can't do it right because there's fucking- mold on his face, isn't there? It's on his face. And his neck, and his arm, and spreading down his side and he needs to get it off out before he ends up like that so he scrubs at it, wrapping his other hand in a clean piece of sheet to keep the spores away. Too blunt - it's not going anywhere. He abandons the sheet and claws at the mold, digging his nails in and peeling it up in disgustingly gooey, crumbling flakes. The smell of rotting leaves fills his nose. He tries not to breathe too deeply. What if it gets in my lungs? What if it's already there?]
[The call button? No. Just get it off, they can't help, they're gone they can't help get it off and then warn people get it the fuck OFF befor eit kill s you ]
[Charlie clenches his jaw, swallows hard to suppress a gag and turns to stare in horror at his own arm. That's not going to happen to him, right?]
[He tries to make a fist, and is beyond relieved when his fingers curl the way they're supposed to. That's still his arm. Mostly. Fuck, wait, the nurse.]
Uh... Doctor, uhm, Kennedy? That's you, yeah? Are you okay- stupid question. Do you need help?
[Charlie blinks, and his depth perception is gone. He blinks again, but his left eyelid only twitches towards closing before it hits an obstruction. Ugh, what..?]
[He lifts his hand to rub at whatever's on his face and freezes. His hand, his arm- they were fine ten seconds ago, and now they're covered in mold. He's covered in mold. Something looks wrong, like he's not quite the right shape underneath that layer of fungus.]
Fuck, that's- eugh.
[He holds his arm out to the side, keeping it as far away from him as possible, and spots the mold on his sheets. On his pillow. On the handle of the door, and everything he's touched. The call button- the call button! The Mold might not have meant to hurt him but there's no way this is healthy, and he's not letting it get any worse. He calls for help...]
[...And help arrives in the form of what used to be a nurse, coated head to toe in the same black mold.]
(The next time you look in yourcontacts case. The solution is black. and a slimy texture. If you blink. or look away. It returns to normal. and does not feel different.)
[Charlie feels deeply uneasy at the thought of putting his contacts into that solution, getting it in his eyes. It looked… Sick. Rotten.]
[He shakes his head and starts working his contacts out anyway. Whatever the hell that was, it wasn’t real.]
[Charlie's hands still on the wheels and he rolls to a stop in front of his bedroom doors.]
[What's... It's- who's talking? No one's here. Someone's here, no one's here, it's quiet. No one's talking. I hear- someone's screaming? Words, what are the words? It's important. But no one's talking- FUCK, I have to get to Mia! I don't have time for this right now!]
