brett and eris

Finalising Plans


Who: Brett and Eris
Where: The abandoned house on the good side of town where Eris is staying
When: Evening/night

Eris was waiting. She didn't actually know if Brett would be back, or when, she was just going through things. If he had told her, she didn't remember, and that was frustrating. She had the vague idea in her mind that he was off doing something important, but was having trouble remembering what. However, there was little she could do about it, and she figured eventually he'd be back. At some point, he'd have to be. She had candles going in the living room, where she had a lot of the gear they'd packed up for their trip put into certain areas. She had an inventory going in a notebook she was writing in as she sat on the floor, using the coffee table as her desk. Reading over her list, she recognized that when she'd been writing, she'd written some things down two times. Three, in the case of waterproof matches. It'd be better if keeping notes actually helped, but apparently, when she had so much she was trying to keep track of, things slipped.

It was also the third time she'd tried to do the goddamn thing, and there were balled up sheets of paper thrown across the table. Sighing, she took a drink from the bottle of water she had next to her, and tried to pick out the duplicates on her list. Obviously she'd counted them. So they were here somewhere. She just needed to cross out what she'd repeated, and relist everything on a new sheet. Tearing the one she had open off, she started the re-list, trying to make sure every time she wrote down a new item, it wasn't already on the list.

Brett finally returned to the abandoned house, though it wasn't immediately after his conversation with Hannah. He'd been in no mood to deal with anyone following that one. He managed to get his chair up the board that had been left on the back steps and into the house, wheeling into the living room and stopping at the other side of the table, before leaning forward and placing the pistol and the ammunition in front of her. "Not a problem," he told her, sitting back again. 'Hello' was overrated, after all.



who: eris and brett
when: afternoon, on towards evening
where: abandoned house

Eris was laying down on the porch swing of a house that was larger than the one she'd been landed with. She didn't even remember what street it happened to be on. Her hair was cascading down over the arm of it. One leg of hers was hooked over the back of it, the other propped on the opposite arm rest. The swing was slowly rocking back and forth, and she had a bottle of vodka, and a small battery powered radio on the floor of the porch, playing music softly. She wasn't paying any attention whatsoever to...oh anything. No, she was more or less just laying there, eyes shut as she tuned out everything in the entire world. That was easier to do of late than it had been before the brain damage, after all. She might as well take advantage.

Brett had been looking for her for a couple of days now. It had stopped being such an active looking for, but it was there and so he spied her as he wheeled past the house. He stopped, still on the pavement, looking around, but the street seemed deserted. "Hey, white trash - how's it going?" he called out, figuring that, in some perverse kind of way, she'd probably prefer the insult to any of the other names he could have used. At least she'd be able to pretend they weren't friends.

The swing slowed down a bit as she didn't keep swaying the foot hooked over the back of the seat to keep up the momentum. "Not sure, I think I'm missing a few things...probably six kids, a trailer, a junker on blocks in the front yard and an overflowing ashtray. Yeah...that's it." she said in return, not actually looking round. It had also taken her a few moments to decide what route she was going to take there, the slowing of the swing giving her that necessary time.

Break In


Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Brett's house
When: Middle of the damn night

Eris waited until after midnight to go see Brett. Well after, if one was counting, though she didn't look at the clock before she went over. It was probably past two in the morning. She had the duffle bag full of books she'd gathered from the library. The shotgun shells happened to be in there too. And, over her shoulder, she had the shotgun. She had planned on breaking into his place...which was a lot easier than initially planned. What with him having ever fucking window in his house wide open. So, being as stealthy as she could, she did break in, climbing in a window as quietly as possible. The place was dark, though with the houses as they were it wasn't hard to find the bedroom in the samey type of layout. She walked in, and looked down at him for a long moment. Then she dropped her load on the side of the bed he wasn't occupying, down by the foot of it.

Brett stirred in his sleep as she entered the bedroom - he wasn't a particularly deep sleeper and was disturbed by any sounds - but he didn't properly wake until she dropped the bag, at which point he came fully and instantly awake, bolted up out of the remains of his sleep and blinking in the darkness. "Wha..." he exclaimed, looking round.

End of the Road

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: South side of town
When: Mid-morning

It had started when he'd gotten up. The lack of electricity, the cold, the semi-darkness. He felt it begin to press in on him the moment he awoke and as soon as he'd found out that there were no electrics, he couldn't get out of the house fast enough.

And then he'd seen the boarded up houses and he'd felt the town start to close in on him. Wheeling through the obviously mostly-empty streets, being outside just didn't seen to be enough and he'd just kept on going, until he'd hit the edge of town, the last house there, the wide open plain before him. That - that felt a little better. That felt less like he was going to start panicking. And he stopped and sat, his back to the town, looking out over the flatness of the world.

Eris had gotten up a while back and wandered through town alone. Then, she'd gone, looted a nice coat, gotten herself a bottle of really fine scotch from the bar, and started walking. She'd actually stopped by Brett's house earlier, but he hadn't been home. She imagined he'd be out somewhere, if he hadn't decided to slit his wrists in his bathtub or something. Either way, she wasn't especially enamored with the idea of dealing with this on her own, and it wasn't as if she had a ton of friends around. Or even pretend friends. All she had were enemies, strangers, and Brett. Who could at least hold a conversation, and didn't want to kill her yet.

Eventually, she spotted him, and she walked up behind him, until she was standing next to his chair, looking out at the same view he was. she didn't pull anything today, no kiss on the cheek just to rile him, no invasion of his personal space. She just walked up and was quietly there.

"How far do you reckon it is?" Brett asked after a few minutes of silence, for once not going straight into the insults and barbs. "If I just started out. Do you reckon the road goes all the way? I don't do well with dirt tracks."

Oh God, Not You

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: Town Hall
When: Far to early in the morning

7 o'clock in the morning. Seven o'fucking clock in the arsing morning. They hammered on his door until he'd gotten there - and did the fuckers not appreciate how fucking hard that was when you could no longer just walk to the fucking door? Okay, fine - it wasn't that hard, because he'd had practice - but they didn't know that! They couldn't know that - they had no fucking clue and it was completely fucking inappropriate and unfair and now he was fucking locked in a building or some shit all fucking day - or might as well be, given that there was no fucking elevator in this place, meaning that he'd had to be carried upstairs. So this place was a fucking prison, wasn't it.

He'd sat himself in the back corner of the room with the food in it, grabbing himself a plate of waffles and bacon, some strong coffee. Hopefully everyone would just fucking leave him alone - he didn't go in for this 'forced socialising' bullshit. Everyone else could do that, he was just going to have some breakfast.



Who: Brett and Eris
When: After dark, during the lightning storm
Where: The park

Brett sat in his wheelchair, at the edge of the grassy area of the park and watched the show, the lightning flickering and flashing across the sky. He was tempted to wheel himself to the edge of town, there'd be a better expanse out there, especially on the plains side of town. It was amazing, magnificent, a really reminder of the power of the earth they lived on. Of how small and insignificant they were in comparison. It was what he'd always loved about working out doors. Watching the play through the sky made him feel both thrilled and excited, yet depressed and sad, somewhat lonely - all at the same time. The conflict was always there. It was a reminder of everything he'd lost, everything he'd never have again. Yet, he couldn't lock himself away and ignore it's existence. Just because he'd lost his life didn't mean that he didn't still feel that draw to it. Maybe it would be easier if he didn't. But he'd always love it. And so he sat and watched, his eyes on the sky, a smile on his face that he didn't really even appreciate was there, every time the lightning struck.