October 2 2008

Finalising Plans

Feeling:
bitchy

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.

Wound Cleaning

Who: Adam and Rebekah
Where: Farm
When: Afternoon

Adam walked back to the farm, not hurrying, not dawdling either, his hand clamped to his shoulder to stem the bleeding as best he could. He didn't question what he had done to deserve the attack - he was to pay for the sins of his family, their mass suicide had condemned him to a life of more pain than any one man could ever live through, he knew this. It was his lot in life to simply bear it well, to not pass the sin on to his children, when he had any.

He entered the farmhouse quietly, calmly, and headed over to the sink. Running water enough to fill the bowl, he stripped to the waist, the better to clean the wound with and, that done, took a cloth and started to wipe the blood away.

placeholder

for a maybe-scene

{Private. Handwritten.}

[private]

I've been searching through this computer, and it looks like I'm (a)in a town full of lunatics or (b)about to hit some serious fucked up shit.

Let's rephrase.
I'm (a)in a town full of lunatics AND/OR (b)about to hit some serious fuckedup shit.
Is this the help we were looking for when we left the house? An abandoned town full of hurt, paranoid people? With, apparently, little to no food? I could have stayed in the woods!

Unpleasant Surprises

Who: Brett and Hannah
When: Afternoonish
Where: In between Hannah's place and the church

Hannah hadn't been planning on going down to the church; she doubted there was much she could do to help out, and she didn't want to be seen supporting the decision to arm the people in the town. In her opinion, that was a damn good way to get shot by some friendly (and crazy) fire. So she'd stayed home, wondering when she was going to hear from Jason about Emma and wondering if she wanted to know badly enough to risk interrupting them - wherever they were. She'd been playing her cello when the doorbell rang; that was unexpected enough that she didn't really think about ignoring it.

New Girl in Town

Feeling:
clueless

Who: Camber (& open)

Where: Cam's house

When: A little after nightfall

 

Camber woke with a start, but for the first time in weeks, it wasn't accompanied by the persistent drumroll of her heart, or any sense of foreboding. Rather, she felt like she was late for something, or there'd been a loud noise. Her eyelids felt heavy, weighted. She blinked past the fog, trying to remember where she was, her brain sorting itself through Chicago/the house/the woods/the facility before settling on...

Nothing.

She had no idea where she was.

Cam sat up a little straighter and looked around, squinting to see in the dark. She couldn't remember what she'd been doing last: they'd been telling her about the town, about what went on there, the volunteers, the other participants...had her sign forms.

She was going to be driven to the town in the morning.

High Stress Situations.

...fuck this.

I should have known, I suppose. It was too easy. It was all too easy. The house was, and now, the promises...
I should have known it was just beginning.

Well. Let the fuckin' games begin, then.

Duty Calls

Who: Seth
When: early early morning
Where: Everett's house

The ding of his computer had woken Seth up early. Very early, before the sun. He read the note on it in the dark, and felt a surge of satisfaction and purpose. They wanted him to do something. He had a task. He'd taken the box out from under his bed, examining the replica guns by lamplight. They certainly were realistic. Weighted more than perfectly, etched with brand names ... they even smelled right. Seth would've been more impressed if he hadn't known already what the scientists could do. Not wasting any time, in the wee hours of the morn, he got dressed all in black, hefted the box, and headed out.

The lights were off, but someone was home at number 4, Cherry Street...

who: svetlana and open
where: cherry street
when: late

Well.

Something had obviously gone monumentaly wrong.

One minute she's signing release forms, next she's lying awake in a dimly lit room with a feeling of intense forebodeing. The first thing that flashed into her mind with a deep, chest compressing panic, was that she'd hallucinated being in hospital. She was still in that fucking cell. She was... oh fuck fuck.