Let's Make A Deal

Who: Eris and Everett
Where: The police station
When: Evening

Everett had a problem; what was one man supposed to do with so many guns? He'd done what he could around town, helping Kales and Dale, rounding people up, and checking the local businesses. But before long his mind had drifted to the matter of the now-empty police station, and more importantly what was in it. What was in it, exactly, was several shotguns and even more revolvers, handcuffs, batons, and ammunition. Everett had pried open the weapons lockers with a crowbar from the hardware store, piling weapon after weapon on a desk nearby. FInally he'd found a duffel, and though he'd already unloaded the guns and started packing some away to transport, he wasn't sure where he was even taking them.

His house could work, but it wouldn't look good at all for the only black man in town to start stockpiling weapons on the day the overseers all vanished. Still, taking some blame was better than leaving the guns here for someone less scrupulous to find and use, and Ev didn't mind people having a problem with him. Tucking a shotgun away, he raised the last from the deck, racking it once to make sure no shells came free and dry-firing it at a wall.

Well, she'd thought she'd have to break in. She didn't. And that left her thinking that she might not have anything left to choose from, in which case, that was going to be tricky. When she walked in, she was quiet, her drunk left a few hours ago, and she was left with a dull headache, but that was to be expected. Her medication didn't really mix well with it.

Following sounds, she ghosted up, then saw Everett. Her chest tightened, a weighted, sharp feeling settling in it, though she didn't say anything right away. She saw the guns piled on the table, and grabbed one up. The first sound she made was checking the chamber to see if it was loaded. "Evening, Captain."

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.

Didn't I already kill you?

Who: Eris and Everett
Where: Right outside their respective homes
When: Late day

Psychological affirmations were wonderful things; Everett hadn't needed more than the sight of a bottle and the feel of the glass in his hand before he'd started bleeding off the anger that his talk with Hannah had brewed. He'd let the range and tension bleed off in the supermarket, and by the time he'd stepped out and lit his first cigar in months? It was forgotten.

Fuck. This. Noise.

{Screened from all ExA Participants that were in when she was, and anyone who commented on journals saying they were from a, or sounded like they were by talking to others in a}

Who does a girl have to fuck to get a halfways decent weapon around here?