snowblindrpg | [log] and behind door number one... [semi-closed]

[A large house just north of a crest in the wall, Clayton had said. That was where they were supposed to meet, and after a few hours of traveling east, the two story building finally looms into view for the ragtag group formed in the school's sports shed. Hopefully someone's home.]

Edited 2015-07-06 01:03 (UTC)

[There are indeed people home, and at least one of them is incredibly anxious for company. Maybe a little annoyingly so; he's been up since before the doors unlocked, fussing with his stuff and straightening up all the open cabinets that they've rifled through, checking the network, pacing, rifling through the cabinets again, sorting his new things, checking the network again, more pacing. He hopes Clem isn't a light sleeper. If she is, Clayton does his best to keep his steps quiet and the volume on his tablet low. But it's difficult not to get a little excited--he hasn't seen more than one person at once since before he arrived here, and the idea of traveling in a group, even if it's only four of them like Zelda had alluded, still manages to make him giddy. Yes, it's hardly going to be a night out on the town. Does it matter? Can you blame him?]

[Clayton manages to stay relatively patient for most of the morning, tempered with the knowledge that the other group has a long walk ahead of them and won't be arriving until mid-afternoon, at the latest. By that point he's frequently poking his head out of the door and making quick laps of the house's perimeter. Windows are too foggy to get a good look, he says. Small consolation for all the cold he's letting in. Still, it all works out in the end when Clayton cracks open the door and he spots what appears to be a moving mass of people approaching the house. Is it Zelda's group? Is it a bunch of strangers? Raiders? Man, who cares! People! Clayton ducks outside and enthusiastically waves an arm over his head.]

Hey! Heeeey! Over here!

[Max did little more than grunt as his attention shifted from scanning the horizon to staring ahead at the enthusiastic man coming from the front door of the building the odd group was approaching. It was little in the way of warning but then he didn't need to warn the group at all; the man from the building was doing that just fine on his own with his excited yelling.

Vaguely, Max recalled mention of meeting more people along the way to the locked building. Good thing, too, because it kept him from taking point and starting on an aggressive manner to keep strangers from attacking his current group of ragtag companions. Instead, he kept his place at the back of the group, set apart from the others by an obvious distance, off to one side, too, so he could see clearly in any direction. It was a comfortable position that allowed him to keep an eye on both the group in front of him and any potential threats that could be lurking in the surrounding snow. Old habits died hard.

Instinct still had him wanting to reach for the knife stuffed into the sheath strapped to his chest but he resisted, fingers twitching in anticipation if the need did arise. He was ready. And he would leave the greetings and introductions to everyone else. It wasn't his sort of thing.]

[Zelda, on the other hand, is at the front, tablet with Clayton's sketch of a map open in one hand, hockey stick ready to be used as a crude polearm in the other. The weather's worse than it used to be, and for a while there she was worried she had somehow led the group off track. Fortunately, Clayton's yelling puts those fears to rest. With a sigh of relief, Zelda hefts the hockey stick into the air, waving it in the air as a long distance greeting.]

Clayton! Is that you?

[Clementine is a light sleeper, but she honestly hasn't been doing much sleeping anyway. She's up when Clayton is, sorting her things and trying not to worry too much about the day ahead. It's not that she thinks Clayton is leading her into a trap, more that the others could be. Supplies are running low all over, after all.

From the next room she hears Clayton opening the front door once again, but it isn't until she hears him shouting outside that she hurries out after him.]

Wait- [That could be anybody, what the hell are you doing. She frowns at the figures walking toward them, tense. The voice calling Clayton's name puts her at ease a little, at least. Still though, she hangs back by the doorway, holding a hammer tightly in her right hand. Just in case.]

[ Link has his scrap metal held in one hand, ready to swing, club or stab if needs be. He'd rather not, but he wasn't about to let Zelda walk around as the only one obviously armed. It wasn't that he distrusted anyone they'd come up to, but he wanted to make sure that they'd be fine in case something happened.

When Zelda raises the hockey stick and calls out a greeting, Link raises his own hand too. He doesn't call out - no point when she's doing it - but his gaze flicks from Clayton to Clem, sizing them up. That Clem was a kid didn't bother him - technically, he was younger than she looked.

And when he has the time, he keeps himself aware of Max lurking at the back, the man's own wariness putting him slightly on edge too. ]

[So this is a bit of a mixed welcome, which puts Clayton more on-edge than any sort of paranoia about the sketchy situation itself. Clem, for starters, doesn't seem to happy, and that automatically makes Clayton unhappy. Second, almost all of them are armed, sans the big guy off to the side (that is immediately obvious), but he's definitely built tough enough that Clayton can tell he doesn't need a heavy stick to take someone out. Really the only thing keeping Clayton from taking up the defensive now is the fact that he can place Zelda and Link (and Lea, he realizes with some surprise) in the group, and that Zelda seems to recognize him and is reacting favorably. It's fine for them to be cautious. Just need to play it safe, make them comfortable, let them know that they don't need to be.]

[The only outward sign that Clayton is playing it safe is how he slightly holds his arm out behind him, a subtle, guarding gesture to block Clem at the doorway and signal her to stand back. He waits for the group to come to them.]

Sure is! See you brought the whole neighborhood with ya! [there's a laugh to dispel the tension] Y'all been walkin' long? Come inside, get yer feet warm!

[Where Clayton decides subtlety is the best course of action, Zelda, for once in her life, chooses to be direct. As the group approaches the pair, Zelda tucks away her tablet - she can't exactly do the same with the hockey stick, but it is lowered into a more relaxed position after getting Clayton's attention.

It's hard not to feel the tension in the group, and Zelda turns her head to speak back over her shoulder.]

At ease, everyone. Clayton is the reason we have an idea of where to go.

[Well. Max figured it out separately, but. She turns back to Clayton, a light smile on her face. Looks like he managed to keep that promise from the first day after all.]

Curiosity is a powerful force, it seems. [As is the promise of food, which is why the four of them ended up in the same sports shed anyway.] We should not linger here too long, on the chance the key does not work, but a few moments to warm up a bit should be fine, I think.

[Lea recognizes Clayton as soon as he sees him: he's got a pretty distinct look. He lowers the 2x4 he's carrying and comes up behind Zelda, giving Clayton a genial wave. He wouldn't mind taking a short break to warm up a little, even if the houses aren't all that much warmer than it is outside. He's still got some food from his trip to the school, which he's willing to share if the need arises, but he's been trying to save as much as possible, since they don't know where their next meal might come from.]

Hey, Clayton, nice to meet you in person. How's it been holding down the fort here?

[Max never made it quite that far. He stopped a few yards away from the building as the others crowded together in greeting. When the offer and acceptance to go inside was made he grunted impatiently and turned to scan the horizon, a deep resonating hum coming from his throat as a prelude to the words he was about to speak.]

I'll keep watch out here.

[The reality was that Max didn't want to go inside. It wasn't that he mistrusted any of them but he didn't have any reason to trust any of them. ~~Hell, he didn't even trust himself sometimes.~~ It may have been cold but a brief moment of warmth wasn't going to make much of a difference once they started moving again either. So he opted to stay outside and, as he said, keep watch. It beat pretending to be social any day in his book.]

[Clementine keeps quiet, but also seems to blindly ignore Clayton's signal to stay back pretty soon, coming out from behind him and eyeing the others curiously. It is partly her not wanting to appear like a frightened little kid. But... well, it's also her being fairly certain that if anyone of them isn't entirely friendly, Clayton would probably not be too good at defending himself. Sorry Clayton.

It doesn't look like anyone is planning on knocking them out and taking their backpacks though, so she at least shows the courtesy of lowering her hammer.]

I guess a bigger group can be safer.

[In her experience, anyway.]

[ Despite having looked for something for her, Link doesn't react to Clem beyond his initial wariness. After all, they'd only communicated over text. They had no reason to know each other yet.

At Zelda's words, Link drops any wariness he had had and dips his head in a nod to them all. Max continues to be aloof and wary, and he glances in his direction too, still slightly on edge from his behaviour. It just seemed so weird to him that someone wouldn't calm down in Zelda's presence - it was hard for him to shake the idea that she had all the answers. ]

I'll look on the roof, [ He says, looking up there. ] See if there's any more tracks. [ That was Clayton's thing, right? When they'd first spoke? ]

[Weapons are being lowered and things seem to be easing up considerably now that they're all together, which is more than enough of an improvement to get Clayton to relax, too. There's no protest from him as Clem circles around to the front for a better look, as he's far too busy giving everyone a quiet once-over to pay her much mind.]

[Max, on closer inspection, he recognizes--that stern voice is unmistakable. Clayton supposes he isn't too surprised that he wants to stay away from the crowd as well. Max doesn't strike him as the social type, and based on that knife now pretty clearly stuck to his chest, he's not in the business of making friends. But obviously he's done well enough with the others so far, so there must be some trust between them to keep him around. A guard, then. Clayton can respect that.]

[Link, Clayton doesn't recognize at all, and in fact might not have even made the connection between his request to look at the roof and his message if Zelda hadn't already described him in past correspondences. He's almost a mirror of her--not necessarily in appearance (although the distinctly pointed ears are interesting), but definitely in action. He sticks close to her, stays armed as long as she does, waves alongside her...they must know each other well. They certainly seem to be the most comfortable together, anyway. Which means, if he's willing to leave Zelda alone to investigate the roof, Clayton's earned his trust. He nods in approval of Link's request and gestures to the door behind him so he can pass.]

[Zelda herself...well, Clayton is hardly surprised that she manages to command so much attention. A natural leader, as her royal position would suggest. He's not entirely sure how many of the others know about that, though, so the idea of greeting her like a proper princess is stifled in favor of, once again, taking the subtle route. Clayton offers her a deep bow of his head to show his respect.]

Ma'am. [Then he steps aside to clear the door properly.] After you. Jus' need t' make sure my socks 're dry 'fore we leave. Won't be long.

[It might seem at first like he's ignoring Lea, but as soon as the path is open for Zelda to go inside, he's loping around behind her to grab Lea in a half-hug, complete with a toothy grin and a lot of enthusiastic back-patting.]

Hey yerself! [a rough laugh, here, warm and congenial like he's meeting an old friend] Doin' fine, no thanks t' you. Wasn't expectin' you so soon! Ain't hardly prepared!

[Clementine gets a light smile from Zelda in an attempt to reassure that they all mean well, and she even manages to mask the majority of the concern she has over someone so young being stuck in these dangerous circumstances. Maybe in a different situation, where staying back would actually be a safer option, she would suggest it for her as the rest of the group checks out the locked door. But leaving anyone to fend for themselves here may as well be just as dangerous as venturing into unknown territory.

The fact she's a worrier is revealed regardless when Link suggests looking at the roof, however. Her smile turns into a look of concern directed at the boy, voice lowering to a clearly more personal tone.]

Be careful.

[Her concern doesn't quite dissipate until she's passed Clayton, the bow of his head being subtle, but still enough to make her anxious about what the others might think. He's not falling over himself with formalities, though, and she is the only woman of age here - perhaps she can play it off as him being chivalrous, that's all. The enthusiastic greeting he gives Lea is distracting enough, as well.]

[As with Clayton and Max, Zelda's tablet beeps upon reaching the strange locked door in the southern wall. "WELCOME" displays on the screen instead, however, and the door swings open on its own, revealing darkness inside. One by one, our heroes enter...

... and the door slams shut behind them, locking with an all too familiar click.

Well. They'll be here for a while.]

[It's Max, as the last one in, that turned around to BANG! on the door after the familiar click sound announced their entrapment. It was just the one heavy strike but it reverberated around the building, loud and annoyed, accompanied by a soft curse. As the sound faded it gave way to smaller manhandling noises as Max messed with the door further; they all knew how this worked by now but Max had no qualms in testing it out anyway. He pushed and pulled at it, putting his weight against the door for the former and including a leg on the wall for the latter, and roughly tugged, jiggled, and otherwise messed with the doorknob in quick fashion. In the end he left the door off with a frustrated kick and a grunt of annoyance. Contemplatively, he eyed the hinges angrily for a moment, but doubted he could get them off even if he had the proper tools much less with what he had to compromise instead. The place wasn't likely to allow it no matter how innovative or precise he got; it just seemed supernaturally stubborn that way as to make even the simplest tasks awkward and impossible.

The full time spent was less than a minute though it probably felt like more. It was no surprise to anyone here probably that nothing could be done about it. It was more built-up frustration and annoyance with the overall situation that had Max angrily do anything in the first place.

As Max turned back around to face the inside and the rest of the group by circumstance, his hand went up to the knife in the sheath at his breast and he pulled it loose. His hand fell back down to his side with the knife clenched within his grip but clearly he intended to be ready if there was an attack waiting for them. Quietly, his voice a gruff rumble, Max addressed the group with a stern suggestion.]

We should clear the building carefully.

[Check it for traps, surprises, etc. Room by room. (Unknowing that there were actually only the two rooms still intact. Look, it was still a good idea in theory. Even in practice, really!) He glanced at each person in turn. He would only wait so long.]

[Lea whirls at the sound of the door slamming, in time to watch Max turn and go through an entire sequence of attempts to get it open again with no luck. This place just keeps getting weirder and weirder. He has to grin a little when he frustratedly kicks the door, and then turns back to what lies ahead of them. It looks like this house gets very dark very fast, and Lea wishes for the umpteenth time that he had his Fire with him; it really would have come in handy in so many ways here.]

I agree--something doesn't want us leaving, so I'd like to know if we've been trapped in here with something. [An eerie thought. He's still only got a 2x4 with some nails in it, but it's better than being unarmed entirely, at least. He gives Max a nod.] I'll go with you.

[It's almost comical, the series of thoughts that pass through Clayton's head, if he wasn't so panicked for them. There was the instinctive one, first, that wave of fear when they all walked into the darkened room and the ceiling creaked overhead. Never mind that it's a fairly small place to be in--this just isn't safe. He opens his mouth to gently suggest that they leave when the door slams behind them.]

[Max gets to it before Clayton does, and goes through just about the same procedure he goes through every night just after he hears the doors lock around him. Granted, Max is a bit more violent in his approach, but the odd compulsion to check and then tell himself, yes, he really is stuck here, and yes, there's plenty of room to breathe, calm down, has become something of a nervous ritual. Usually he's more prepared for it to happen, has a good idea of where he is and what he's doing. Now, not so much.]

--It's really locked?

[Rhetorical question, Clayton was just testing his voice. His breath hitches awkwardly and forces it out as a croak, which isn't great. Steady, steady...Don't panic. Just need to find the walls. Clayton jams his hand in his pocket, procures his keys, fumbles loudly with them and then, eventually, finds the keychain flashlight and clicks it on. A beam of bright white light illuminates the path immediately in front and flickers slightly off the walls; Clayton swings it around in a quick sweep of his surroundings, just to make sure he knows where everything is. Already some of that uncomfortable pressure is leaving his chest. It'll be fine.]

...Y'all mind a third? [Mostly because standing in one place is not going to do him any favors. Also it's kind of practical maybe.] If we're searchin', this'll do better 'n the tablets fer lightin' the place up.

[Max squinted into darkness, bright lights illuminating the immediate areas both helpful and destructive to his sight at the same time, but made no compliant to their use. Had he still had access to the supplies on the War Rig or his own Interceptor long before that dangerous race he probably would have pulled a flare out to use in the same capacity. He knew he had one at some point but there was no telling where it had gone in all the chaos.

He shook the memories away and pointed at Clayton.] Behind me.

[It was a two-fold tactic; Max was obviously stronger and more suited to handle an attack, and on top of that he really didn't want Clayton's flashlight ruining his night vision from in front. From behind it would be more useful. The whole trick about keeping a flame behind when keeping watch.

The ex-cop stepped forward to put himself in the lead, giving a nod to Lea along the way. He moved further into the building, looking around, indicating where he needed and expected the light to go if Clayton was going to be at all useful to him.]

Edited 2015-07-15 08:30 (UTC)

[Flags should have been raised the moment Zelda allowed herself to fall back to the rear of the group.

Throughout this journey towards the mysterious locked door, and then beyond it, she has remained a constant presence near the front, falling naturally into the position of guide. It means a slightly different thing this time around from what it was during her time as Sheik, directing Link to the temples and providing him with the songs to travel across Hyrule quickly, but it's a role she has experience with all the same.

But, speaking of Link, it is his presence that seems to have driven her away from the point position as they travel deeper into the ice tunnels. Since they found each other, they have each been a constant presence at each other's side. But as the day has worn on, Zelda seems to be less and less tolerant of her green-capped shadow. If he follows her to the front, she falls back. If he insists on keeping pace with her, she moves to a flank. This odd dance continues until late in the day, a little before their tablets will warn them to get inside, when it seems like she's had enough.

Zelda stops, sharp eyes fixed in a glare as she spins to face Link.]

Stop. You are not fooling anyone anymore.

[ Confused by Zelda's increasing reluctance to be around him, Link had began to leave her be towards the end of the day. The increasing pain behind his eyes helped; that and the way he thought he could see or feel things around them. Sticking to the middle of the group helped him to stop feeling like Dead Hand arms were about to reach out and grab all of them. The solid bodies of his companions did block the slender, blood-tipped claws from appearing.

The rushing air of a descending wallmaster, however, didn't stop. More than once he'd rolled out of the way and swung his pipe at empty air. Each time had caused the pain to stab, knife-like, and make his reactions more and more sluggish. It wasn't until he'd tried to shove Zelda to one side to keep her from getting abducted that he began to think maybe he wasn't hearing something correct. The other times, the hands could have simply launched themselves back to the ceiling.

By the time they stopped, his companions were likely well and truly sick of him, and he could barely see from the agony radiating through his head. He bundled himself up in the corner of the room, hoping beyond hope that things would calm down now that they had stopped.

Or he would have done so, had Zelda not whirled on him with a glower that cut through the haze of hurt and made him start with shock. Her words were like a slap and his head throbbed with every syllable. He cracked his eyes open and squinted at her. ]

W-what?

[She was well and truly sick of him. Seeing him try to "protect" her from Goddesses know what sent waves of nausea through her. And Din forbid she think about how he's touched her, how they've stayed warm during the frigid nights. The mere thought was enough make bile rise in her throat. The awful headache she's come down with - pounding, pressing, pulling her apart - doesn't help matters, either.

She's been a fool, chasing a futile hope that maybe she would get just a few moments longer with her Hero. But no longer.]

It has been a clever ruse, using his face to make me lower my guard. But I have seen through you; I know the truth.

[She points, accusingly, lips curled in disgust, teeth gritting in anger and pain. "Link's" look of shock and hurt only spurs her on. How dare he act innocent--]

I should have listened to my instinct when I heard Link was here-- it is impossible for him to be! Whoever you are, whatever your purpose here is, you cannot be the Hero of Time!

[ Pain lances through Link's head as if someone sticks a hot poker through his eyes. His ears are filled with the same rush of air as a descending Wallmaster, but he blots it out, sure that it's fake. Zelda's words, however, aren't, and he winces with every one as they add to the throbbing in his head.

Reaching up, he presses the heel of one hand - his left hand - to an eye, hoping to dull the throb. It doesn't work, but it keeps it pressed there. His other eye is focused on Zelda, and the confusion he feels shines there, even through the agony. ]

I - am the Hero of Time. [ His voice is hesitant only because the sound of it makes his vision pulse and his gorge rise. He's never felt a pain like this, one so simple and yet so debilitating. ] Why - why can't I be here?

Why?

[It's such an absurd question to her addled mind. It knows everything, It can see everything, so how in Nayru's name would this man who clearly works for It not know why Link wouldn't be able to exist in the same place as her anymore? He's lying, obviously.

Very well.]

I will show you why.

[If It wants to play this game, she will play. She pulls her backpack around in one quick, jerk of a motion, digging down deep, deep inside. She had thought to hide the truth from both Link and herself, keeping it buried under the supposedly more pressing importance of other things. But it was always there, at the bottom of her pack and the back of her mind.

She reveals the Ocarina of Time, blue and smooth and in every way the same as the one Link possesses.]

Yours is a convincing fake, but a fake is all it is. This is the real Ocarina. This is the instrument Link returned to me after defeating the Evil King.

[Despite all the anger welling up in her being, her lip trembles.]

This is the instrument I used to send him back in time, to live out the peaceful childhood destiny stole from him!

[ Even through the stabbing headache, Link can make out the Ocarina of Time. His eyes widen, though he immediately squeezes them shut as the extra light hurts his head. He fumbles in his own tunic for his version and holds it out, cracking open an eye to check on the two.

What had happened to Zelda? Why was she so... so...

He couldn't see any difference between his Ocarina and hers. It made sense to him if that there wasn't - if he'd been taken from before she had been, then wouldn't he still have it, if he hadn't already given it back? Time wasn't difficult to understand, but -

But then her words slice through the pain, stab into his awareness, and make him look right at her, surprise plain on his face. ]

You... you send me back...?

[ ... She sends him back...

... He's not... sure... how to feel about that. Even his uncertainty about Zelda's behaviour is washed away in that revelation. ]

... It was the only way I could atone for all I had done.

[Her voice softens, staring down at the Ocarina in her hand. For a moment, she's back there, in that idyllic, peaceful place after all the violence of the final battle with the Evil King. For a moment, she's clasping her hand over Link's as he places the Ocarina in her open palm, the only touch she allowed herself after his reawakening.

But only for a moment. She closes her hand around her Ocarina, clutching it to her chest as her glare returns anew.]

Perhaps It was not able to see us then, in that place, and that is why It has made such an obvious mistake.

[Though it's hard to believe her own words, as her head pounds under It's piercing gaze. It can see everything, every part of her that crumbles and breaks inside under the veneer of spite and disgust as she speaks the words she's kept hidden these past two weeks.]

Link... is a child.

[ She sends him back. It's for a good reason. He can live what he couldn't. How many times had he wished he had grown into this body, rather than waking up in it one day? Especially at the start, when he had to cope with not only the changes all around him but the changes in his own strength, height, weight... everything.

He squeezes his eyes shut again, pressing his hand to his head to try to stifle the pain, the other curling around his own version of the Ocarina. The skittering of a Floormaster's nails on the floor make his ears twitch despite everything else. It only underlines the disgust in Zelda's voice, and he wishes that he could block it out as a hallucination like his monster ones.

But she's real. Real, and saying such horrible things.

Link cracks open an eye again, fixing her with a stare filled with emotional hurt, even as his eye waters from the agony in his head. ]

I - am - a child.

I said, stop!

[Her voice breaks with her demand, and her disgust turns to herself for displaying such weakness to It's agent. He's not real, he's just a fake made to toy with her emotions, yet she can't steel her heart completely against that face.

Zelda spins on her heel, shoulders tense and raised as she turns her back to him. If he's this determined to play the part he's been given, then there's no risk of him using that moment to strike her down.]

Just... leave me alone.

[Alone. That's what she's been all this time. That's what she'll always be.

She was a fool to think any different.]

[ If he were spiteful, he could have said that she was the one who'd whirled on him. But he had been bothering her, hadn't he? Maybe he should back off - especially in light of this. Her words were so hateful. The fact that she didn't trust him was as agonizing as the feeling behind his eyes.

If he could leave the house he would.

But even with the door locked, he felt like he couldn't move from the pain. Even when he shifts his head it felt like someone was stabbing a knife into his skull.

Eventually, he closes his eyes again and gives a soft groan. ]

Alright.

[log] and behind door number one... [semi-closed]

PRE-LOCKDOWN

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LOCKDOWN

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Day 014, evening-ish

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