Nightmare on Elm Street
Who: Brianna and any ExErs.
Where: Brianna's house then off to Elm Street.
When: Nightfallish
Morning had been somewhat productive in the sense that Brianna had looked all through her ‘humble’ abode (compared to what she was used to, more like cramped feeling) and located what she felt was necessary. She had drawn a basic layout and put down where doors were, where windows and vents were located. Then she’d made a basic inventory list of the contents of the house. Now, likely that was never going to be information of any use whatsoever but it made her feel productive and that was something. The house keys were tucked safely in a pocket hidden on her long skirt after she’d been satisfied that there were no holes present in the cloth.
Well, that had been this morning. It was much later and she was waiting on Camber. Perhaps Scott as well. She was not at all surprised that he was here and had survived their abandonment and starvation. He was big and he was strong so yeah, no worries there. Honestly, it was more a miracle that Brianna had survived. Oh sure, make it sound dramatic right? She was not the survival type. She was book smart, not street smart. Still, she was being as damned careful as she could in her house. Unfortunately, she was drawing a blank on how to barricade doors while at the same time being able to escape quickly if necessary.
No one had come yet. Okay, maybe she was being overly anxious. It hadn’t been that long since the conversation had occurred. Bri flitted over to a window and carefully peered out from a corner. No standing in front of the window directly. If she had learned anything from movies, it seemed like a very stupid thing to stand in front of a window. Some kind of crazed immortal psychopath could leap through or you could get shot or hit with a brick and masses of glass. Maybe she was just being overly paranoid. All she knew was that it was making her sick to her stomach – well that and she hadn’t eaten yet either.
Okay. Impatience was setting in. Slowly and very carefully, she unlocked her front door and peered out. Well, no bear at least. That was a relief. There were no people either and that was sort of disturbing. She was eventually going to have to go outside on her own it seemed and she did not want to do that, hardly being brave enough. Brianna disappeared back inside in a flash of black and silver brocade. Please, please let someone come soon.
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Cam finished replying to Brianna and looked around. It seemed unwise, to her, to head out looking for people - people she didn't know, people who might have their own traumas, or be injured, or from the sound of it hidden away in boarded up houses - without any supplies whatsoever. Mostly, she was concerned about herself or Bri needing first aid, to be honest.
They'd had medical supplies in the bathroom of the house, simple stuff like tylenol and bandaids as needed for the minor injuries and headaches you might get living somewhere for a month, and those had come with her and apparently stayed. She took those, and an extra t-shirt for ripping up if necessary, and the swiss army knife she'd gotten used to carrying shoved in her boot. Filled her canteen at the kitchen sink.
It was something. It wasn't a lot. Most of what had come with her from the house had been what could fill a small backpack. Even her bass had been surrendered to the house, a sacrifice she regretted now, but not enough to have died to lug it with her.Taking her journal had prompted a whole argument at the time. An argument with now-dead friends.
Life is just a chance to grow a soul. The words still shook her; the beautiful mask had been put in a drawer by her bed, out of sight but not out of mind. Was that why she was doing this?
It didn't matter. She shoved everything in that same well-traveled bag again, and headed over to Brianna's. Hesitated a moment before rapping out the first line of the chorus of Yellow Submarine. Knock knock knock, knockknock knockknockknockknock knock. Managed a tight smile at the choice of song.
Scott was so thrilled to see that at least two of his girls had made it out. He was hoping for more, but maybe some just hadn't replied yet. In the meantime, as much as he didn't like the idea of going out at night, at least he would be with people if he did. "Yes, Casey, I'm sure it'll be fine. We're in a town. Surely if something goes wrong, someone will hear and come running," he shouted over his shoulder to the empty chair behind him.
He washed his face and quickly picked out a jacket to wear, and after a moment grabbed a couple more. Just because he had gotten all his things, there was no guarantee they had and it was going to be a cold night. He looked at his nails. Hm. Still dirty. He'd do something about that later.
Peeking out the door, he looked for a sign of a familiar face before sneaking out. He couldn't see at first, but sticking his head out the door a little more, he saw Cam waiting outside the door of the house next to his. He smiled, and it was all he cold do to keep from rushing over to her and picking her up in a big hug. Instead, he straightened his jacket, stepped out, locked the door, and headed over to her. "Hey sweetie," he said with a grin.
It was shortly after that she heard the knocking – finally. We all live in a yellow submarine... Now that was going to be stuck in her head for the rest of the evening and possibly even all of tomorrow. Of course, that was entirely her fault because she had picked the song. No point in being upset about it now. It was done and she was very glad that Camber had remembered. It didn’t seem to be in the woman’s nature to forget things like that though...
She half-rushed back to the door but then realized something. Oh Gods, what if someone had been spying on the journals? It could be someone she did not want to see. Quiet as a mouse, she carefully scooted over to the window to peer out. She could see Scott coming down the street. He didn’t seem to be upset by anything but it was impossible to see who was actually at her door. Take a deep breath, calm... Yeah right. Calm.
Brianna settled in on the wall just behind her door and carefully opened it. She used the crack inbetween the wall and the doorframe to look at who was outside. The space where the hinges were made a very good peephole. She released a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding when it turned out to really be Camber. Bri slipped out from behind the door and smiled rather shyly at the floor. “Quick like a bunny please, quick like a bunny.” She made an ushering gesture to Camber and to Scott to get them inside as quickly as possible. Something randomly occurred to her – where the fuck had she picked up the phrase ‘quick like a bunny’? A mystery for another day.
Cam had seen Scott on the boards, but seeing him in person again sent so many memories rushing back toward her -- of the house, totally inane conversations in common rooms and kitchens, and later, too, all that had followed, the panic as the food ran out, the arguments over what to do, the time in the woods... She was momentarily dizzy with the onslaught of mixed emotions, but forefront was the strangeness of seeing Scott in person again, after so long of assuming he must be dead or missing forever.
"Scott," she said, allowing a rare grin to cross her face. "Hey - "
That was when Brianna opened the door, and she turned to smile, this time prepared when she saw the girl -- outfitted as always in an extravagant dress; oddly comforting that that much hadn't changed. "Quick like a bunny, please, quick like a bunny." Cam laughed softly and stepped in, twitching her nose at Bri bunny-style as she headed into the house quickly. Inside, it looked very much -- scratch that -- exactly like hers: same white everything, same bookshelf, same loveseat and couch set, only with a few different things laying about, whatever Bri had taken with her from the house.
"It's good to see you two," she said, almost surprised at her own honesty, and rubbed her neck, embarrassed, glancing from one to the other. "So, right," she went on, covering the sentiment with fast-paced practicality, "I didn't know what we'd run into, exactly, looking for people, so I brought, y'know. Some water and tylenol, bandaids, that kind of stuff. My swiss army knife - it's got a little saw and a wire cutter if we need to get into somewhere. Anything I had left from getting out." She shrugged. "Didn't have a flashlight on me, though, that would've been good. I didn't know how we wanted to...go about this."
Scott quickly followed Cam into the house. Every instinct in his body just wanted to gather up the girls in a big hug and not let them go ever again. They had been through so much together- the good times before, then the horror of running out of food, everyone separating... The thought of it all still made him sick. When he left the house, after a few days he had made the same assumptions as everyone else probably had- that they'd either died or gone crazy. Unsure what to do, he rubbed the back of his neck and rocked back and forth on his heels. He was in an unusual situation- he was the one having to follow instead of being in charge. But Cam and Bri had been here longer than he had, and he thought it best to let them take the lead, with him just acting as the muscle.
"Well, I've got my pocket knife, if that'll do any good... and I guess keys could be used as weapons in a pinch." He looked at both girls. They looked so... different somehow. Thinner, of course, than he'd remembered, but in their eyes, as well. It was the look he was sure he had as well- someone who had been through hell and back. And they'd had it comparatively easy, from what he could tell. "But, um, what exactly are we looking for anyways? Just seeing who's home? Dropping off cake and saying 'Hi, we're the new neighbors?'" He realized immediately that he was being a bit more bitchy than he'd intended. "I'm sorry, that came out a little... ugh." He shook his head with a grim smile. "Wow, not back together five minutes and I'm already turning into a snarky old queen, aren't I?"
“Perhaps I should s-start calling you Samantha,” she said to Camber when the girl twitched her nose, voice very soft – almost hidden in the buzzing silence of the house. It beat at her ears and made her wish desperately she had a stereo or some such to drown out the whiteness. But back to the nose - most girls her age did not make Bewitched references. Then again, Brianna was not at all like most girls her age. She nodded slightly at Scott once he came in and then she quickly shut the door and bolted it. Not that it would likely help but it made her feel better.
There was an urge to throw her arms around both Cam and Scott and just... cry her eyes out but she refrained from doing so. It wouldn’t be beneficial and really, like she needed to complete the picture of a Victorian lady. If she was going to have the vapors or a weeping spot, it was going to actually mean something, thank you very much. She was honestly missing her own point but that was neither here nor there.
Brianna realized as they spoke that they were both armed and she was not. It made her feel terribly insecure and she crossed her arms over her stomach, looking desperately around the living room though she didn’t turn. It was a flickering of the eyes. She smiled faintly at Scott. Snarky old queen... She adored that he could refer to himself in that way, so securely. Now if only she could find him a kilt... What that had to do with anything, she wasn’t entirely sure but Scott needed a kilt.
“N-no cake. Um, just taking stock I guess... Sort of to cement that we’re not the reason people are disappearing even though we’re appearing when they do.” It was a miracle she’d said that much because honestly, it didn’t feel like her mouth was going to work right. And really, she hadn't stuttered around this lot in ages... “I-it’s complicated.” That was the understatement of the year. Or perhaps it was terribly simple and she was just making it complicated. And she still couldn’t think of a weapon.
She was chewing rather violently on her bottom lip. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to draw blood but she really did not like the idea of not being armed even though she had no fucking clue how to use a weapon of any sort. Quite suddenly, she turned on her heel and stalked into the kitchen. And she started opening drawers. Well, really she was trying to pull them out of the counters but that seemed to be against all the safety features so they were merely flung open with loud bangs. Bri did not offer an explanation, she merely acted.
Cam watched Bri pivot and throw the drawers open, with an odd calm, glancing at Scott. Some very loud part of herself was yelling, "Great, she's nuts too!", screaming at her to run away and hide in her house until all of this was over. Only it was Brianna, and that wouldn't be okay. And to be honest the rest of her brain wasn't all that phased by it, anyway. It was as if most things just sort of settled into normalcy here, as if seeing zombies outside would be just another thing that happened.
But there wasn't time for that right now, and they only had each other. And whoever else was on Elm Street, provided they could keep it together long enough to find them. She walked quietly into the kitchen, hands up a little, and said, "Hey, Bri. Brianna. It's okay, chill out." She had no idea what Bri was looking for or even if she was looking for anything, or just angry and frustrated. "What are you doing?" she asked quietly.
Scott looked back at Cam. Oh, good, we're all going crazy today. He followed Cam into the kitchen, looking around for anything else in the house that could be used as a weapon if they needed to, since that seemed to be what Bri was looking for. "I'm guessing you want a knife or something?" he said, calmly opening up drawers and cabinets. It wouldn't do anyone any good for them to fall apart right now. He didn't remember Brianna ever stuttering that much before, but stress and chaos make you do strange things. "Nope, not there," he muttered, looking through the cabinets, then kind of looked over his shoulder. "No, I already looked there, there wasn't anything," he said, apparently to himself.
If anyone thought Brianna was perfectly sane in the first place, they were sadly mistaken. She had never been the picture of sanity but years of neglect would do that to a person. She could hold full conversations with herself and live in her imagination for as long as necessary but she tried not to do that when real people were about. At the same time, she’d never had a proper imaginary friend. Wendy had helped break her of it mostly; after all, her counselor didn’t want to take her imagination away entirely. It was healthy for a mind no matter what certain people said.
She nodded her head in Scott’s direction, “What he said. I r-refuse to be the only one without a weapon. That doesn’t s-seem like it would be safe.” Especially since she wasn’t sure of what they were going to find out there in the other homes. And there was a bear still as far as she knew. Of course, a kitchen knife was not going to help with a bear. That was when you curled up in the fetal position and prayed you survived the snuffling and pawing. (She’d learned that from the Discovery channel.)
Bri was getting annoyed and impatient. “Somebody give me their shirt. I’m going to m-make a shiv out of a lamp, so help me gods.” ... Clearly she’d been watching too much television if she was using words like ‘shiv’. Improvisation was key in situations like this. Of course, she wasn’t even sure if the lamps were ceramic, glass or plastic. Well, if plastic broke right, it could be just as effective as a knife proper... She’d cut herself on plastic so many damned times. And she never learned how not to do that. Hmm.
Camber hid a smirk at the word 'shiv' coming out of the mouth of a tiny girl in Victorian dress. "Okay, both of us have knives," she said practically, looking around the room. "And if you slice some important artery open breaking a lamp or, like, fucking electrocute yourself, the bandaids in my backpack aren't going to do shit. So I vote we break a leg off a table and you can, y'know. Beat people with it."
She kicked at the little table with the lamp on it, testing the leg strength. "You could totally take this." She lifted the lamp, stepping away from it as if offering the table to Bri.
Scott was finding himself of two minds here. Part of him wanted to laugh. This whole thing was starting to remind him of some of the boredom-induced adventures that had occasionally sprung up around the house. But the more sensible part of him remembered that, apparently, things were Very Dangerous out there at night, and that if they went into this thing half-cocked, Very Bad Things could happen, and all his bodyguarding skills might not be enough to protect them.
"I guess that would work," he said, appraising the table leg. "Break it off right and it comes in handy against vampires, too." He picked up the table and, after a quick examination, snapped off one of the legs. It hadn't come quite as easy as it once would have, but it still broke with a nice point on the end. He handed it to Bri. "There aren't any vampires, are there?" He really doubted it, but at this point he wasn't quite sure what to believe any more. I mean, Casey had started talking to him again, hadn't she? And if she could come back, anything was possible.
Brianna didn’t care if they had knives. She wanted a weapon too and if that meant breaking a lamp... She rolled her eyes a little at Camber, “I was going to unplug it first. I’m not a complete git after all.” Electrocution was the least of her worries. Now cutting herself up? Entirely possible. Before she could really protest, Scott had broken a leg off the table and made a very loud whimpering noise before sort of sputtering, “My poor table...” She took the table leg and sort of stared at it with a sad, sad pout.
Bri shook her head a little numbly, “No real vampires as far as I know. There might be someone who fancies themselves a vampire but I wouldn’t know really.” Oh gods, her poor, poor table! She poked the pointy end of the new club and squeaked a little. Yeah, she’d pricked her finger. Smart girl wasn’t she? Bri put the tip of her finger in her mouth almost automatically, not afraid of that tiny amount of blood if she knew where it came from. “So... g-game plan?”
"I don't know about you two," Cam looked at both of them, "but I figure, we should just start knocking on doors. Just like, hey, you're alive? Great. If no one answers, then we check windows, around back. Or if it's boarded up, maybe we should break in and see if anyone's around and if they left anything worth taking. But if someone's alive and well, they're going to answer, or at least tell us to fuck off, probably. I don't want to come on threatening from the get go, doesn't seem smart." She shouldered her backpack. "Figure we should start at this end and work down. Friendly neighborhood census-takers, kind of."
She paused, not wanting to be the de facto leader, but aware that she had settled into this game plan from the moment they discussed looking for people. "What do you guys think?"
Scott kind of winced at the idea, to be honest. Going knocking on strange doors in the middle of the night wasn't the best idea, he thought. Not when they'd be opening the doors to the likes of them. "I think it's a good way to get shot or stabbed, or something, to be honest." He looked at his two girls. He didn't want to take a chance on losing them again, so soon after they'd all been reunited. "I mean, if you two think it's safe, great, but from what the computer-journal-thing tells me, it seems like this ain't the most friendly town in the world." He paced a little as he talked, nervous energy coursing through his body. "You wanna check out houses that look deserted, see what we can find, great. But I really don't feel like getting attacked tonight. And especially not inviting it."
Honestly, Brianna didn’t have a plan. That’s why she was asking the others. They were better at this sort of thing than she was. Like Hermione Granger, she was just books and cleverness – hardly much in practical application until she actually knew something about it. Bri nodded at Scott’s thoughts although she hadn’t really come across anyone that was very rude (thankfully). “But we still have to knock... We really need to find out if people are where they’re supposed to be or, well, not. And I’ve been reading thoughts that some people might be boarded up inside? We just have to be extraordinarily careful...” Now she wished she’d read a book on security tactics and perhaps police force tactics. Not exactly something she expected to need in her life.
“I... I c-can volunteer to to take p-point, I guess... Sacrificial lamb or some such thing.” Not the smartest thing to ever come out of her mouth and she knew it but it was too late to take it back now.
"No one's being any kind of sacrifice," Cam said, a little more sharply than she meant to. "We've all got weapons, yeah? The way I see it, if we stick together we'd be damn hard to take down." She glanced at Bri and Scott. She knew this was a little crazy, but she felt like somehow this was something she had to do. Like maybe she could help someone; do something good. Or at very least be responsible for once in her life. Sure, part of her wanted to run, agreed whole-heartedly with Scott that this was the least smart thing she'd ever thought up, and that they'd all be better off here with people they knew were sane, or better even alone where no one posed any kind of threat, but.
"Look. I told Everett that I'd see who was here, who wasn't, and I'm going to do that. I undersatnd if you two don't want to come investigate the crazy. I wouldn't think any less of either of you. If anyone's going to be point it'll be me -- I got us into this mess. But I think we work just fine as a team and I think we can manage to get down a street unharmed." She shrugged, diffusing the drama. "Besides, we might get some food out of the bargain."
Scott knew that once Cam got an idea in her head, it wasn't going to be easy to dislodge it. He felt the pocket knife in his pocket, and thought that it really wouldn't do much good if it came down to it- he'd be better with his fists than the little knife. If Cam was going to do this, though, she wasn't going to do it alone. "No, no, I'll come. I'm not letting you do this by yourself. If you want, I'll try to be a little less gay and a little more intimidating, if you think that'll help." He looked over at Brianna. "It's up to you if you want to go, Bri." He didn't want her doing anything she wasn't comfortable with.
Brianna winced a little at Camber’s tone but was rather glad she spoke up. She didn’t want to be a sacrificial lamb but better her than someone useful really. A laugh actually came out of her at Scott’s offer, “Sweetie, even when you’re not fruitilicious, you’re still fairly intimidating.” She shook her head at Scott, “I agreed to this before you did, luv. Long before you did.” As if to strengthen her resolve she swung the table-leg cudgel up and settled the heavier end in her other hand, taking a deep breath. “Right then. Let’s go play ‘Avon Calling’.”