snowblindrpg | [log] Trading Spaces [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] Trading Spaces [closed]

Characters: Charles, Al, Church, Zach, also Cecil
Location Somewhere around F21, the lake tunnel, then 242
Date: Day 156, midday and Day 157, evening
Summary: Brief meet-up with Al and Co while they travel in opposite directions, then meeting Cecil in the fire station
Warnings: Language for sure

[Charles doesn't like the lake tunnel. It makes him feel claustrophobic and sets his teeth on edge. Unfortunately, it's the only way into the Entrance, and that's where he's decided to go, good life decisions be damned. It's cold outside (duh) but not as cold as it has been, so he's a little less worried about frostbite while traipsing around out here. Actually, being in the tunnel helps a lot with that, cutting off the wind. So, you know, trade off.

He's starting to think 'hey maybe this isn't so bad' when he spots three shapes up ahead. Someone coming from the other end of the tunnel, and there really isn't an option to give them a wide berth. Which he isn't even sure why he wants to bother doing in the first place. It's not like he's fucking scared of these losers or something. Definitely not. He pointedly keeps trudging forward, hatchet over his right shoulder.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No!

[Wait, why did he deny it? That's so stupid. He's so stupid. It was a panicked response. He twists a little to get his head more out of focus.]

It's just the way the light is reflecting from the, uh, glasses I have on underneath.

Glasses?

[He was super ready to take Al at face value (ha-ha) before, but now it's suspicious. Why lie about that? He doesn't know much about armor, but he knows you don't wear glasses under there. Right?]

Are they like, sunglasses or... ? [Whatever.] Look if your eyes glow, dude, it doesn't bother me. That's like the least weird thing that's happened so far.

Don't be so silly, eyes don't glow.

[THAT'S NOT A NATURAL THING EYES DO, CHARLES.

He laughs again, too high pitched to be anything but nervous.]

I do have glasses, they're correctional lenses, they-- uh, they help me see, but they reflect the light a lot.

Well, no, not normal human eyes. [Charles shrugs.] But not everybody here's human, so.

[He squints up at Al. Well, if someone did need glasses and had to wear armor, he guesses... maybe they would put them on underneath?]

Does it get cold wearing that around? Or is it like, super heavy? I'm just wondering why nobody ever wants to ditch their armor here.

Actually, it's surprisingly well insulated.

[Thankfully he has a whole plethora of lies and excuses for that question by now.]

It keeps me from getting wet, so it stops me getting too cold. It also helps keep the wind off me.

[Charles makes what might be an impressed face.]

Huh, alright. Sounds kinda nice, actually.

[Nicer than two shirts under a coat and some dress shoes. God what he wouldn't give for a scarf.]

You find any random suits of armor you let me know, I guess.

R-Right, no problem!

[He even flashes Charles a thumbs up like a loser.]

So, uh, I don't think I got your name?

[It's okay, Al, the thumbs up is kind of adorable when combined with that childish voice. Kids are allowed to be dorks.]

Oh, right. Charles Yvry.

[He puts out his right hand for a shake, having apparently forgotten that it's kind of injured right now and covered in hasty bandages.]

It's nice to meet you, Mr. Yvry.

[Happy to meet someone who seems friendly, he takes that hand without noticing the bandages at first and shakes it firmly.

Oops... sorry, Charles.]

[Just like with the hammer incident, he realizes at the very last moment that he has made A Mistake. Charles winces visibly at the pain and sort of wiggles his hand free as quickly as possible. He sucks in a breath, holding his wrist.]

Right, yeah. [His voice is maybe just a tiny bit higher pitched than usual.] Likewise. Nice to meet you.

O-Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry.

[He lets go at once, hardly missing that pain and the obvious reason for it. What an idiot, why didn't he see the bandages before?]

Are you okay? What happened to your hand?

Nope it's fine. It's totally fine.

[It's super not fine but who cares IT'S FINE!]

I'm good. Yeah. Beckett. Beckett happened.

[Ah.

His posture shifts so that he somehow manages to look sympathetic even without being able to change his expression.]

I don't think that sounds fine, have you had it looked at?

Yeah, yeah, I had Dr. Watson look at it.

[Kind of.]

It's okay, it's dealt with. I mean, not much else we can do about it anyway, unless you know how to regrow a finger.

No, sorry, that's definitely not something I know how to do.

[Eesh, poor Charles.]

I have some painkillers, though, you're welcome to them if you want them?

Nah, I'm good on painkillers. [Not that he's been taking them, but you know. Whatever.] Do they just hand that shit out like candy around here? Seems like everyone's already got some.

[He snorts, half amused.]

No, I've just been here a long time so I've managed to find a lot of useful things, and I haven't had any need for them myself.

[Lies.]

How long have you been here?

[He wonders how long someone could feasibly go without getting hurt in this place. Or maybe Al's just stubborn like him.]

Since the beginning. Or-- the beginning of this group of people, anyway. One hundred and fifty six days so far.

[A long, long, LONG time.]

[Charles makes a low whistle.] Jesus, dude. I'm sorry. That's almost half a year.

But I mean hey, you've made it this far, that's damn impressive.

I'm not the only one, but there's not a whole lot of us left who were there then.

[Not that he's incredibly sad about that or anything.]

I'd say you'll last as long, but we're not going to be here another half year. You'll see, we'll all be home by then.

[He doesn't think they have half a year left, so, yeah, they won't be here anymore. But they might be devoured by the town or something, not home. Still, he can't completely fault Al for his optimism.]

Right, yeah. We'll figure it out. I mean, there's like fifty of us, we'd goddamn well better.

I know we will, we're a pretty smart bunch of people.

[He actually means that too.]

So-- tell me, where did you come from? I love to hear about other people's homes, it's amazing to me what can exist out there.

[Why thank you, Al. Charles doesn't think some of the people here are very smart, but collectively, the smart ones maybe make up for the not-so-smart ones. Maybe.]

Oh, uh. I'm from Chicago. [Which he's sure is very helpful.] That's in the United States, or it used to be. And that's on Earth. You've probably heard of Earth, even if you're not from there.

Yeah, and Norfinbury is supposed to be in the United States too, right?

[He has no idea, the whole place is alien to him.]

It seems like a lot of people here are from a place where they know America, way more than the people who don't. I wonder if that means anything.

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