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Philip has passed most of his time in prison sleeping and thinking of painful ways to make dear Officer Cooper pay for having arrested him in the first place.
Having been given a phone call earlier, he'd tried to call the real Coop, only faintly irritated to find he's really one of the few people in Darrow he can call in a situation like this, but the call hadn't gone through. He'd tried Agent Reid next, because he hasn't technically done anything wrong to end up in prison here and if anyone can get him out, he imagines it would be another law enforcement agent, but that call doesn't go through either, and it was at that point they'd told him he was done and forced him back into a cell.
He doesn't know anyone in this city. No one knows he's here, he hadn't bothered to tell anyone he was coming through, and now he's being held hostage in a jail cell for daring to cross the street at the wrong time. The officer who's arrested him looks exactly like the man he's been planning crimes with in Darrow and carries the same name, and from what he can gather there's someone here with his name, too, who manages to get arrested often enough, given that everyone keeps referring to him as Phil and acting as if they're old friends.
It's enough to drive a man mad, he thinks.
At least he's alone in his cell, though almost as soon as he thinks that, there's a rattling in the hall and then the door opens to admit someone else into the room. Philip squints against the light, looking at the new arrival, half hoping it's someone he recognizes, and he frowns when he discovers it isn't. Just another criminal, he imagines, someone else thrown inside for god only knows what. Perhaps looking at Officer Cooper the wrong way. He seems to arrest a fair number of folks around these parts.
"Hardened criminal or did you run into the overzealous cop?" he asks, her voice dry as he relaxes back onto his bunk. The man hardly looks like the type who deserves to be in here, but Philip supposes he could be wrong.
Having been given a phone call earlier, he'd tried to call the real Coop, only faintly irritated to find he's really one of the few people in Darrow he can call in a situation like this, but the call hadn't gone through. He'd tried Agent Reid next, because he hasn't technically done anything wrong to end up in prison here and if anyone can get him out, he imagines it would be another law enforcement agent, but that call doesn't go through either, and it was at that point they'd told him he was done and forced him back into a cell.
He doesn't know anyone in this city. No one knows he's here, he hadn't bothered to tell anyone he was coming through, and now he's being held hostage in a jail cell for daring to cross the street at the wrong time. The officer who's arrested him looks exactly like the man he's been planning crimes with in Darrow and carries the same name, and from what he can gather there's someone here with his name, too, who manages to get arrested often enough, given that everyone keeps referring to him as Phil and acting as if they're old friends.
It's enough to drive a man mad, he thinks.
At least he's alone in his cell, though almost as soon as he thinks that, there's a rattling in the hall and then the door opens to admit someone else into the room. Philip squints against the light, looking at the new arrival, half hoping it's someone he recognizes, and he frowns when he discovers it isn't. Just another criminal, he imagines, someone else thrown inside for god only knows what. Perhaps looking at Officer Cooper the wrong way. He seems to arrest a fair number of folks around these parts.
"Hardened criminal or did you run into the overzealous cop?" he asks, her voice dry as he relaxes back onto his bunk. The man hardly looks like the type who deserves to be in here, but Philip supposes he could be wrong.
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"Hot bookstore guy?" he asks, a brow arched. That's pretty goddamn rude of him, actually, Newt does know Luke's name because they've chatted on their own once or twice before without Mindy's influence; but he's not exactly feeling charitable right now, even though he supposes he has just technically complimented the guy.
Granted, there's no beard and the hair is way different, which is indication enough that it's not Luke at all, but Newt doesn't care enough to correct himself. Huffing a sigh, he shakes his head, leaning back against the cold, cement wall of their shared cell.
"Oh, yeah, dude, I'm super hard. I am the hardest, can't you tell? Mastermind fucking litterer over here, yup, I can see you shaking in your boots already."
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"Hot bookstore guy," he echoes. "I can only assume you mean Agent Reid's lovely companion and in that case, I think you might find Reid terribly insulted that you've compared the two of us." Philip has no illusions, he and Reid aren't friends and he doubts Reid would care for the comparison at all. Philip knows enough about Luke, too, to know they're as different as two men can be.
"Ah, littering," he says. "You must have met the illustrious Officer Cooper. Preventer of littering and jaywalking." He makes no mentioned that he'd also propositioned the officer, seeing no reason to include that bit of information. He hadn't known at the time, after all, that the man wasn't the Coop he's come to hold a small amount of affection toward.
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"I mean, how bad a comparison could it really be? You're a good-lookin' dude, it's as much a compliment as I can be without knowing anything else about you. Except for the fact that you were apparently arrested for jaywalking."
At least that's mildly worse than accidental littering, so Newt can at least confirm that the dumb version of Coop hadn't just arrested him for the hell of it.
"Anyway, yeah, not pleased about this Darrow's Coop. Not cool, man, not even a little bit. Real Coop is never going to stop hearing about this when I get out of here."
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There they both are, really, as he can't imagine it's all that enjoyable for Reid.
With his hands behind his eye, he appraises the newcomer, wondering how much more trouble they'd get into if Philip gets bored enough and wants to have some fun. He's smaller than he usually likes, but not unattractive. "Friend of Coop's, then?" he asks. "Are you fucking him?"
It doesn't matter. He wouldn't be jealous, he's mostly just curious.
"If you are, avoid propositioning the one here. He doesn't like it."
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Newt nearly gags, which isn't even meant to be offensive to Coop, it's just that the guy has never once been someone he's considered very fuckable. The first time they'd met, Newt had fixed his phone because he'd fucked it up doing some drunk ass thing or another the night before and then they'd watched some Space Hospital over Thai. Coop had pretty much been sexually neutralized for Newt right from the start.
"I mean, not ew, I guess. He's a friend but I'm not like, y'know, into him." He holds up his left hand, wiggling his finger. "Also, married. In the monogamous way."
Sure, he and Kate sometimes come home and discuss the most recent slew of hot people they've met in the city but there's nothing wrong with that. They're secure in their relationship and each other, there's no harm in admitting that other attractive people exist in the world. Even though his wife is definitely the most attractive.
It hits him then, why the guy would ask, and Newt widens his eyes. "Wait, are you fucking him? I didn't know he was seeing anyone. Then again, I never did ask."
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Whatever he and Coop are doing, Philip wouldn't define it as seeing one another, so it doesn't particularly surprise him that Coop's friends wouldn't know that. He's not adverse to seeing someone, but Coop seems as uninterested in that as he is himself, so this current arrangement works best.
"Yes," he answers simply, sitting up on the bunk finally and swinging his legs over the edge. "I thought Officer Cooper was the Coop I know. Needless to say, he didn't appreciate it. I'm Philip."
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What else can he really say? Newt hadn't actually meant to ask if Coop and Mr. Jaywalker are banging, that's not something he really cares to picture, considering he wouldn't be involved in any way. But whatever, props to Coop because this Phillip guy really is a looker. At least if he has to have a cellmate, it's considerate of the guards to stick with a guy who's easy on the eyes.
"Call me Newt," he says, taking a couple steps forward to observe the cell, which really takes him just about halfway across. "So what, are they trying to take us to frickin' trial or something? For littering and jaywalking? I can't even deal, I have shit to do, man. I got a doppelganger to stalk."
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"Ah, you have an alternate here," he says. "Seems as though I do, too, though between hot bookstore guy, as you call him, and the short fellow and the one with the horse, I've had quite enough of that already." When it comes to stalking them, however, he can hardly blame Newt for wanting to. Philip likes to watch and he's spent a good deal of time getting to know the patterns of the men who look like him as well as most of the people he's sleeping with. He's cautious when it comes to Luke, knowing it's better not to get caught, because even if he has an excuse, the man won't believe him. Kili is less of a concern, not because he's not capable of being deadly, but because Philip doesn't know if he's ever seen the man frown. His girlfriend, however, looks severe enough for the both of them. And then there's Ross with his delectable wife. If Philip had to pick a favourite, it would certainly be him.
"I don't know what they have planned, I haven't been able to get any of them to speak with me," he admits. "I tried to make some phone calls back to the Darrow we know, but they didn't go through. No one knows I'm here. No one except you, I suppose."
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Of course there is. Darrow is over-fucking-run with Hot Bookstore Guy doppelgangers, why wouldn't there be one with a horse? He's met Kili, they'd gotten into that bar fight together once, cool dude. Luke's pretty chill, too, though this guy doesn't seem all to stoked on him. Maybe when he gets out of here, he'll track down the horse one, if only to compare because it's a little bit fun for him to see how different they all are. He only hopes that if ever another version of him shows up in Darrow that the guy's not half as awesome because Newt doesn't want to deal with the competition.
The fact that this world's version with him is a rock star is fine because it's not like they're going to be staying in each other's neighborhoods one way or the other. There's only room for one Newt Geiszler in each version of Darrow, and he likes it that way.
"Well, my wife'll show up eventually. She knows I'm here. I mean, I don't know how much that'll help you, but at least someone from the other side'll be here."
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This man's wife isn't likely to be of much use to Philip at all, especially not if she's as entirely engaged with him as he seems to be with her. Married women aren't impossible to get his hooks into -- quite the opposite most of the time -- but every now and then he finds out that seems impenetrable.
"Maybe she'd be willing to pass a message along to someone who can help me," he suggests. "Or if she gets you out, maybe you'd be willing. Speaking to Coop should probably be enough, he'll find a way to get me out of here." He better, since it's essentially his fault Philip is here in the first place.
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They actually all look different enough to be told apart, at least the ones Newt's seen. Maybe the one with the horse is a dead ringer for one of them, but Luke's got that unmistakable beard with the white stripe in his hair, Kili's a frickin' Dwarf, and Philip... well, Newt supposes Philip's the one who's not Luke or Kili.
"Anyway, yeah, dude, I can totally pass the message on to Coop. After I throttle him for putting me here in the first place." It's not Real Coop's fault, but Real Coop is the one who's going to be on the receiving end of Newt's wrath. Mostly because he can't take out his irritation on a police officer, especially not one who would probably call it a form of assault and arrest him all over again.
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Philip knows he's different. He's perfectly happy with that.
"Appreciated," he says. "And do try not to kill him, he's likely one of the few people who know me well enough to get me out of here." Agent Reid might be willing to lend a hand, but Philip doesn't want to bet on it. Coop is a criminal, not quite like Philip, but far more similar than Reid would ever be. He's more likely not to ask questions either.
He pauses, then asks, "And your wife knows you're here already?"
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He pauses, letting his head rear back a bit as he arches a skeptical brow. "You're not gonna go and marry Coop, are you? Because that'd be weird. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd show up, but it'd just be... I don't know, fuckin' weird, man. Although, hey, if you guys do decide to get hitched, you should recruit all your look-alikes to be your groomsmen. How awesome would that be?"
Coop doesn't seem like the marrying type and to be honest, this guy doesn't, either. But then again, Newt's known Philip all of three seconds so it's not like he's got a super good gauge on him. He's just a little... unsettling, that's all. Not that he freaks Newt out or anything, Philip just seems like the kind of person he'd have to be careful around.
"And yeah, she definitely knows I'm here. Okay, maybe not here here, but she knows I'm here, as in this city. She'll figure it out once I don't come home when I said I would, though, I know she will." Newt doesn't want to say he's predictable but at the same time, in certain ways, he knows he definitely is.
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That's not the role Philip is ever going to fill in someone's life, something he's perfectly happy to know. No one in their right mind would want to marry him, on top of all that, for which he wouldn't be able to blame them.
Newt's wife knows he's here, however, which is something. At the very least, she'll be expecting him to come home, which can't be said for Philip. Maybe, if pressed, he'd said in this situation marriage might have its uses.
"And what shall we do until then?" he asks, eyeing Newt curiously. "What sort of a name is Newt?"
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"Anyway, I don't know, I didn't name myself. It's actually short for Newton, my parents apparently figured I'd grow up to be the awesomely badass scientist I am. And if we're playing the 'getting to know you' game, you just learned what I do for a living. Your turn now."
He already knows who the guy's banging, might as well get a better idea of who he's sharing his cell with. There's not much else to do until Kate gets here, after all. Newt just hopes it's sooner rather than later.
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"My turn," he echoes, debating whether or not there's actually any benefit to telling Newt anything. He would prefer to stay on his good side, at least for now, since he has a wife who should inevitably be coming to rescue him. No one is coming for Philip and he doubts Newt will ask his wife to pass a message along to Coop if Philip has pissed him off somehow, so he decided to go ahead with it.
"I work for Todd Chad," he says. "Well, Todd Chad's security team. It's rather boring, no one ever seems to think to threaten him or try to kidnap him."
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Those goddamn ice bees had given him hypothermia, he'll never forget that, and Newt still thinks it's weird that Todd Chad had somehow been resurrected considering he'd exploded into a billion ice pieces or whatever, but he's long since grown accustomed to Darrow's weirdness. It's been almost three years, which is crazy, and he kind of has to wonder if there is anything left that would surprise him. Even the whole breach to another Darrow thing hadn't exactly blown his mind.
"Well, I don't think anyone has much use for a zombie quote-unquote musician. Like, why does a dead guy need a security team, am I right? Or undead. Whatever the hell he is, I don't even know anymore."
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"The boy is famous, therefore he has strange fans and lots of money to spend keeping himself safe," he says with a long, lazy sort of shrug. What Newt is saying about him is interesting, though, the idea of him being undead. Philip has heard the rumours, of course, but he hasn't delved too deep into it. Not yet anyway. Not while he still wants to take the money.
"What happened on New Year's Eve that he almost got you killed?" he asks.
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More and more often, he notices people seem to be a bit more welcoming of newcomers, though he isn't sure whether that's got more to do with time or like, some kind of reprogramming of their brains. He'd be willing to be on the latter.
"Well, long story short? Ice bees. They busted out of this effigy and stung the shit out of your boss then went after everyone else, the little assholes." So okay, it hadn't really been Todd Chad who'd done the almost killing, but Newt still associates New Year's Eve 2013 with those little fuckers and that little shit with the awful music so it basically is the guy's fault. "I got frostbite from getting stung, dude, it was the worst. You're so lucky you weren't here for that, I heard people's fingers were falling off and everything. Not the best New Year's Eve we've had."
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Nor would he care, Philip imagines. There isn't much that seems to reach him. He's always imagined it to be some product of mental illness, but perhaps it's only that he's dead.
"And is that what killed him?" he asks. "Seems as if you got frostbite from being stung a few times, having the shit stung out of him might do more than that." He shouldn't be asking, but he can't help himself.
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Plus, he could test the process on Seymour. Sure, he'd have to dig up the little guy's body, and it'd probably be decomposed by now; but on the off-chance it isn't, it'd be pretty sweet to have his buddy back.
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It's possible that should worry him. Once they're done with him, there's every chance they'll just throw him aside, but he's hoping he'll be able to avoid that and will manage to still get his pay.
"They're not particularly keen on answering questions," he says. "And I prefer getting paid to knowing Todd Chad's intimate details."
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"Your loss, I guess," Newt says, casually shrugging his shoulders, though he narrows his eyes. "Bet you could make a lot of money exposing that whole operation. Oh, well, though, right? Doesn't seem worth the trouble."
Except it totally seems worth the trouble and maybe Newt's curiosity has gotten him into trouble once or twice before but come on, ice zombie pop stars with a team of people trying to keep that shit in line? That's too good a mystery to pass up.
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It's only having been in poverty, though, very near to complete bankruptcy, that he's really come to appreciate what a steady job can offer him. And in the meantime, he keeps himself from growing bored with outside projects. All in all, it's a perfect arrangement for the time being.
"Are you offering?" he asks, amused, sincerely doubting that to be the case. "A lot of money to expose that whole operation? You're confident they're not paying me well enough to counter an offer like that."
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He pauses then, grinning broadly. "That being said, if anyone ever does actually offer you an assload of money to find some shit out, feel free to come find me. Sharing is caring."