eris

PM to Eris

Stockard, what the fuck is going on over there? I just got word that someone (you, apparently) is overdosing. I won't waste time asking if you're okay, so you'd better be.

Creature comforts

Who: Everett, open to Cheyenne, Eris, and Glitch via PMs
Where: His room
When: morning

He'd been woken by the soft chime and trill of Camber's message hitting the computer to the north of his room, but Everett hadn't even considered it to be a bad thing at first. No, he'd woken up to a deep feeling of relief, a wonderful surge of hope. Why? Well, because for a second there, he'd believed that the last nine months had simply been a horrible, horrible dream.

Looking Around and Messages

Who: Brett and various PMs (to Owen, Hannah, Camber and Eris)
Where: His room/elsewhere
When: Morning

It was the sunlight and the fucking birdsong that woke him. Which, considering it was the middle of fucking winter and he'd been living for several days in a drab and dank house, a dawn chorus was not what he'd expected.

Neither did he expect to open his eyes and find himself lying in some kind of bower, as though he was in the middle of some kind of fucking Disney film. All it needed for completion was a rambling rose or some shit. Damn, the thing even had ivy. He pushed back the blankets and sat up, looking around. The day was nice - warm, even, though not too hot. And he appeared to be in the middle of a wood. His first thought, looking around, was 'what the fuck happened to winter' - since there was a notable lack of snow and cold. What there was was plenty of trees, and grass, flowers even - little wild flowers scattered all over the place.

unexpected aid and insights

Who: Eris and Everett
Where: Vicarage, second floor
When: early evening

Trying Not To Talk

Feeling:
angry

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: The vicarage - hallway/ kitchen
When: Early morning

Eris had gotten up early. Kind of stupidly early, because she had gone to bed really early. She was feeling better. Not one hundred percent, or anything, but she was moving faster, her head didn't pound constantly, and the little ache in it was actually something that was kind of normal for her. She got headaches a lot. Her fever seemed to have gone down some too. She'd even gotten dressed today. Real clothes and everything, though she stuck with warmer things, comfortable things. She was sitting on the third stair up from the bottom, looking down at the Brett-doll she'd retrieved again from the doll house. She kept thinking she was going to check it. See what was under the eye patch. See what kind of cut the missing limb had. All that kind of thing, but she hadn't yet. And, as she was sitting there, staring down at the doll in her hands, she was kicked out of her heavy thoughts by the watch on her wrist. With the little musical alarm that was going off. She couldn't place the song, but it sounded like a music box to her. The light on it started to flash as well. She didn't do anything, just stared down at it, watching the little smileyface icon on the lcd screen blink.

Brett had been up for a while as well. Given the last few days, sleeping in didn't really feel like an option any more, and he didn't want another day where everything was getting started before he'd had a chance to privately get himself ready for the day. So, he'd woken early this morning and kept himself very much to himself until he felt ready to face whatever it was they had to face today. He was, however, pleased to see that the chair they'd given him yesterday hadn't been taken away again. It was a damn sight better than anything he'd had in the past, and far and away above the piece of crap they'd given him for a couple of days. He rolled out into the hallway almost silently, enjoying the lack of squeak and the loss of rusty resistance. And, as such, he saw her before she saw him and he looked at her, noting the small signs that told him she was looking rather better today.

frosty can kiss my ass

who: people at the vicarage
when: 8am
where: the vicarage

Eris was woken by the alarm. Frosty the Snowman bit through her blissful unconsciousness like a cheerful fucking scalpel. And at first, she fumbled around, like she was going to shut an alarm off. Only...she didn't have an alarm, now did she? Instead she just managed to knock a few things to the floor and that had her looking over the end of her bed. Her head swam when she did, the music really making her brain fucking hurt, but she focused on...were those presents? What the fuck?

Storyteller

Feeling:
stubborn

who: eris, everett and brett
where: living room, mostly
when: later afternoon/early evening

It was all a bunch of bullshit, in Everett's opinion. Really, everything here tended to be, but in this particular situation? He was getting reminded of that fact more heavily than he usually would. That stupid dollhouse was an obvious goading tactic, at least as far as he was concerned. What other use would it have? Dress up each of them in some absurd little representation, put the whole thing out in a public spot so they could be witness to each others' reactions. And he blamed his lack of a fucking drink for his, but that didn't exactly matter much now. He'd had a bad one, they'd all seen it. Eris had probably even felt emboldened enough to call him 'captain' again, that or her brain damage had just made her forget not to. But Ev felt surly enough to assume the former as he sat in the living room, staring balefully at the outdated television even if it was off, one hand clutching the doll he'd thrown away earlier, the other holding what had to be his fourth cup of shitty instant coffee.

the dollhouse

who: everett, eris and brett open to hannah and posy
when: morning
where: front hall

good morning, sunshine

who: brett and eris
where: spooky doom house
when: morning

When Eris regained consciousness, it wasn't necessarily a pleasant sort of experience. She woke into a world where her head pounded, her body ached, her throat was sore, her stomach ached, she felt vaguely like she was going to be sick, and...generally speaking she felt awful. She was also vaguely surprised, because she really hadn't expected to wake up at all. So upon waking, and realizing she wasn't in fact, dead, and was back in the most uncomfortable damn bed in the known universe...Eris was a little hard pressed to be grateful for continued survival.

She groaned and curled farther into a ball, the movement making shivers break out through her form, since a little of the cool air of the room drifted in through the thin blanket. God, she felt terrible. She probably needed to take something. Or...find a window to leap out of. Cynically, she figured she was only on the second floor. She likely wouldn't actually die. Crap. After having to convince herself a whole lot, she got out of bed, dragging the blanket with her, wrapping it round her shoulders as her teeth chattered. Stumbling out of her room, she tried to remember where the bathroom was, but...that was kinda beyond her reach at the moment. So she shuffled along til she was reaching out for the rail to keep herself upright, breath coming heavier than she would have liked. She only vaguely realized after her vision cleared that she was looking down into Brett's room again. Why the hell didn't he have a ceiling, anyways? What the hell kind of room was that? Who built this house, and what kind of crack had they been on in the first damn place?

Brett was sleeping, lying on his side, his legs positioned carefully beneath the covers, supported by pillows, a position that actually only left him one pillow to support his head, which he'd folded in half and scrunched up to get high enough and which he was holding in place in his sleep by wrapping an arm around it. At least, that had been the plan - he'd got himself comfortable last night, got himself enough pillows by stealing some from the empty room next door, since this fucking house didn't have enough in just his room. But, sometime in the night, those stolen pillows had been stolen back and since then Brett's sleep had become increasingly disturbed as his unconscious mind noticed the subtle change in positioning. Not that he could actually feel the loss of the pillows from his legs, but the change altered the angle of his body and a host of other small matters that registered as Not Right. It had been different when they'd been travelling, he'd expected that, but in a bed - even an uncomfortable one - when he'd specifically set himself up before going to sleep? He remembered that shit, he had to - he didn't want to ever have to worry about pressure sores and other shit like that. he shifted slightly in his sleep, muttering to himself and showing signs of waking up.

It was just poetic justice, right?

Feeling:
cold

who: eris
where: middle of nowhere
when: late

She'd done what she'd wanted to do, which was drive until she was out of gas. She noticed, even, that the cars they'd ditched before weren't there anymore. Unless she just didn't get as far, which was entirely possible. Likely, even, considering she hadn't even had a full tank of gas to begin with. The engine coughed for a while, sputtered, died, and went quiet. Which left her with nothing but a dead car and...whatever she'd kept of her own possessions. Really, she probably should have taken a few more things. However, at the time, she'd just wanted out of there as fast as humanly possible.

As she leaned back in the seat of the car, she watched out the windshield, as the day faded into night. It got dark early, though she had no real concept of what time it might be. She didn't even know what time she'd woken up, or left. Vaguely, the question of whether or not she'd taken her medication flitted across the back of her mind, but she couldn't remember. And while she could have dug them out of her things, she couldn't be bothered. That sort of mentality was pushed more forward when it started to snow. Getting out of the vehicle to lean against it, head tilted back, she watched the flakes coming down. And they weren't little light fluffy things, it was heavy, serious snow.

As she shifted to push up onto the hood, leaning back against it like the day she and Brett had first taken off...she let it fall down on her, letting the snow drop onto her skin then melt. Her eyes fell shut, and it was with a surprising amount of detachment that she figured she was going to die. It was snowing now, and while she had her thermal sleeping bag, and something resembling shelter, there wasn't any real heat source. She'd die. She'd freeze to death.