am I tragic?

It was the first night all week that Ulysses had had even the chance of any kind of properly restful sleep. So, it was no wonder and absolutely no surprise that he was fully unconscious well into Saturday afternoon.

Though he definitely got more of a surprise when he finally did wake up from his lowkey post-pollen coma and began to sit up. Because. There were things that weren't supposed to be there. He could immediately feel it, even before he looked down - although he couldn't immediately figure it out, you know, before looking down.

And then he looked down.

"Oh. Great."

He was just going to... flop right back down and stare at the ceiling for a bit. Maybe -- maybe see if his vape was within arm's reach, in a moment.

Fandom.

[ooc: Open, if anyone is inclined to bother the stoner.]

( Sometime in the summer of 2021, Ulysses had left Fandom. Then he'd gone to college. And then other things happened. )

And then he woke up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by --

Wait, wasn't this all his stuff?

"What the fuck?"

[ooc: NFI, everything under the cut NFB for distance and taken/paraphased from Now Apocalypse episode one, 'This Is the Beginning of the End' and a little from episode two, 'Where Is My Mind?'. MY BOY IS BACK. Older but not any smarter.]