umbrellajackassery | All around me are familiar faces...

Whatever Five had done had brought them back, all of them, even Ben, and as far as any of them could tell -mostly thanks to Grace's input- was that it was the morning of their father's funeral, it was as if the past week had simply ceased to exist, they were getting a do-over and this time without the looming threat of an apocalypse hanging over their every move.

None of them questioned it, none of them wanted to, especially given as how they had Ben back, and so they didn't, they just continued on. They didn't continue on as if nothing had changed, because they all knew that literally everything had, and while for the most part they still couldn't stand each other -with a few exceptions- they were all still staying at the house, maybe just out of habit.

But it had been a long day, and Klaus was finding that his initial assessment had been correct and he really didn't care for being sober at all, but he was trying, he wanted to do better, wanted to see just what else he might be capable of.

But right at the moment, he just needed a nap, and the last person he expected to find in his room was, well, himself.

All he had to say, all he really could say about it was: "What, the fuck."

[ooc: as discussed, a post for the Klaus Brigade to go all Ghost of Christmas Future at each other, one on one, all at once, start with one and have another fall in later bc of dimensional weirdness, whatever y'all, we'll make it work, I believe in us.]

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{Option 1 - for ouiking_ouija
Klaus is sprawled across his bed, looking a bit worse for wear. His face seems to have taken some kind of beating at some point earlier in the day and there might be bits of glitter or glass one in his hair. Whatever, he did the thing for Five and hasn't even gotten his twenty bucks yet, so he's sulking. Or decided to nap since he can't buy anything he wants at the moment.

Just as he's settling for that very deserved nap, the door opens and he turns his head to yell at whoever it is to get out, except--

"What the fuck?!" He yells, staring at what could only be a carbon copy of himself in the doorway. The fact that the words come in unison? Don't make this any less insane, for the record.

{Option 2 - for all the Klauspocalypse players

Klaus isn't sure how this is supposed to work. Or how it happened. Or what the actual fuck is going on. There's like. A bunch of him suddenly roaming the house and he's not sure what to make of it. Except that he seriously needs a drink. That's clearly the only solution.

He wanders downstairs and grabs things from the bar and starts mixing a drink, which he promptly takes a sip of as soon as he's done. "Ahh, that's getting better already." It's the lies he tells himself that hurt him the most.

{Option 3 - Free for all, all over the place

Klaus-- this... particular version of him, at least, can be found wandering the house at various times of day. Sometimes he's in the bar, nursing the he-lost-count-eth drink of the day; others, he might be found in the kitchen, trying to find something suitable to snack on. More than once, he might be passed out across two chairs in the dining room, on a couch in the living room.

Late night rendezvous would definitely result in someone spying him in the midst of some awfully suspicious-looking snooping around what used to be 'off-limits' areas of the house. Like Dad's study, or even better, Dad's own bedroom! The things he could probably find to pawn make the risk of being caught by one of his siblings kind of worth it.

A third Klaus hadn't quite made it to the bed before passing out. He was waking up now, groggy, weighed down by the haze of a high that he was still in the middle of. He was feeling grateful not to have woken up to a hangover, and considering the concepts of coffee and/or a bath, when he heard the door open, and looked up to see himself walking in. Then heard his own voice shouting way too loud. In stereo.

"Oh, no." He let his head fall back and wiped the back of one hand across his eyes. If he kept his eyes closed, he could keep from thinking about this for another moment. "No, no. Nope. Maybe... maybe how about not."

This was cause for another, more emphatic, "What the fuck." And this one almost, almost managed to sound like an actual question instead of a demand. He didn't totter into the room, though it was close, because this was apparently just one too many shocks to the system, and not the kind he was acclimated to.

He shoved the gathered detritus -mostly clothes- off of the chair and dropped into it, rubbing his eyes for a moment before looking back and finding that yes, there were definitely two more of him there. Which had him muttering a more resigned, almost defeated: "What the absolute fuck?"

His next instinct was to check his pulse, fingers pressed to the side of his neck, because the only logical reason this would be happening was if he'd died, right? Life flashing before his eyes and all, though he hadn't expected it to be quite so... literal.

Three. There are three of him. No. Two extras of him. Somehow. What is happening? No, seriously, what is happening?!

"I am not drunk enough for this." He groans, burying his face in his hands as he doubles over against his knees. Maybe if he stays like this long enough, the other hims will just... go away, and this will all just be a really weird dream.

Make that four, actually, because here comes another (surprisingly) sober Klaus. All the ruckus had woken him up from the nap he was attempting to get in the study nearby and as soon as he walks into the room, he takes one look around at all these versions of himself—

And promptly backpedals the fuck outta there with an oh-so-eloquent, "What. The actual. Fuck?" He stands just outside the doorway, hands pressed over his face, open-mouthed and saucer-eyed. He's not high, right? He's pretty goddamn sure he isn't, but...

There's no way that room has three whole other Klauses in it. Nope, he refuses to believe it-- this is all just some messed up dream he's having. Someone — anyone? — please, come wake him up.

I am not drunk enough for this. He really isn't. Wait — did one of the others say that, or did he just think it?

The Klaus on the floor lets out a heavy sigh, rolls onto his side, then keeps rolling until he's flat on his front, planting his palms on the floor and pushing himself up to his knees. The room's a bit swimmy, but not in a totally awful way.

There's one of him in a chair, checking his pulse. Another curled in on himself on the bed. Floor Klaus is just about to make a decision about crawling in one direction or another when there's a fresh exclamation from the doorway, shouting... pretty much the exact same thing as the other two.

"Is there an echo in here?"

Klaus hasn't even noticed anything is weird or strange about the world. All he knows is he needs to get in the house before Dad realizes he's been gone for nearly three hours past curfew. Except he's probably already noticed and Klaus is gonna be in for actual hell when his training day rolls around tomorrow. Later today. Whatever.

Don't mind the child scaling the side of the house like he's done this more times than is at all healthy. He's just gonna climb up and to the window of his room and flip himself over the edge of the sill. He lands with a soft thud, and a somewhat sickening thwack! when his head hit the baseboard under the window. "FUCK!"

It takes him a moment or two to recover, doubled over his knees holding his head between his hands. When he finally feels like he might not just see stars when he looks up, he leans up and sits back on his knees.... only to be greeted with a room full of-- him...self? From....the future?

He blinks, hard, three times, and then a lot more in rapid succession. "I didn't even drink the Absinthe at that party, what the hell?!"

Well, no, his pulse was fine, a little elevated, but that was probably understandable, given the three, no, four other hims, given the one that had just rolled in the window and the thump of the head against the baseboard had him rubbing the back of his own head, because whatever the reason, he remembered that knock and how he'd been seeing stars for a few minutes, but he definitely did not remember falling into the current situation.

"Okay, so, uh, obviously none of us have any idea what the fuck is going on right now, right? Show of hands? Anyone who knows what's going on, hand up, everyone else, hands down."

Klaus pointedly does not, by any stretch of imagination, even move to raise his hand at all. He glances around the room to see if any of the rest of-- him??? raise a hand, but he isn't expecting much on the support of that statement. Because they all look just as confused as he feels. So.

"Kay, so... that's settled..." he mutters uncertainly.

The Klaus sporting the cut above his eye is still just as bewildered as the rest of them. He doesn't have a single clue what is happening, or even a theory of how it could be real. "So, uh-- will the real Slim Shady please stand up, cause this shit's givin' me a headache." He rubs at one temple as if to drive the point home that much further.

All around me are familiar faces...

{It's time for a Klauspocalypseeeee | threadjacks anywhere that feels appropriate is A+

Option 1 threadjack? I kinda want a thread that's one gigantic wtf-athon between a bunch of us

yeessssss

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sliiides in here

YEAH

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