Dialtown Oneshots (Yippie!)

Randy has shakey hands

Randy is my favorite, he gets to suffer cause he's on my mind too much <3 Olandy if you squint I guess. Mostly just Randy suffering though. He's fine I promise.

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Randy has finally managed to get himself an apartment. It's not the best by any means, after all it's on the worse side of town and he can't tell if there's more mold or if there's more bugs in it, but it's his. And it's baren.

He only has the absolute basics really, an old couch and mattress that were both found on the side of the road, enough plates and cutlery for just him, and a shitty dresser he got for cheap. It's not much, but after so long in a dumpster, it's something. Because of this everything in his apartment is something he's careful with, he absolutely can not afford to replace anything after all.

Which makes his god damn hands the bane of his existence. He's never been particularly graceful or anything, quite the opposite, but now days his hands shake so much. They're numb and they shake and they hurt. Which is what's leads to Randy's current situation, him gripping onto the kitchen counter and trying to convince himself to just do the very basics of taking care of himself.

"C-come on. It's not that hard, I just... I just have to grab a plate. I need to heat up leftovers. I can't skip another meal. Oliver would notice... I just have to stop shaking." Randy mumbles to himself, releasing his grip on the counter and looking down at his shaking hands. For a moment the bloody bandages catch eyes and the thought of if he even needs them anymore crosses his mind.

He'd feel naked without them by now though.

Randy sighs and shakes his head, steadying his hands as much as he can, and reaches to grab himself a plate. He already feels like shit today, he can't afford to mess this basic task up too. Slowly, he brings the plate down and sets it on the counter with a relieved sigh.

Getting the leftovers onto the plate is just as slow of a process, complete with a spill that nearly caused tears to spill from his optical sensors, but is done quickly enough. Wiping up the spill, Randy glances at the microwave. He swears one day it's going to electrocute him. He'd welcome it to do so probably.

"Would... I could eat this cold... It wouldn't be the worst thing I've eaten..." He mumbles to himself. The distance isn't far but with his luck he'd drop the plate. The tremors have been so bad today. With a sigh he decides to at least try, he's eaten enough horrible food to last multiple lifetimes. It's not like the leftovers are particularly good, but they're tolerable heated up.

"...I've got to learn how to cook better. Maybe Oliver could lend me a cookbook... Or Karen could..." He muses to himself, tightly gripping the plate and carefully making his way towards the microwave. He almost gets there before stopping a moment when he spots a bug, making a mental note about seeing if he can afford bug spray.

The thoughts of his financial situation are quickly abandoned though when he hears the distinct sound of a plate shattering against tile. As he slowly looks down he sees a mess of food and shards, causing his heart to drop as he realizes he's going to have to get a new plate. He doesn't have many. He can't afford many.

Sinking to his knees a loud sob racks his speakers as he covers his face with his hands, gripping onto the sides of head. The faint thought of how he probably shouldn't grip his head so hard crosses his mind but that doesn't stop him. All he can really focus on is how the one time he tries to get himself something nice, something normal, he ruins it.

Just like he ruins everything.