[log] it's in the air and it's all around [closed]

[devoutish]

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Emily Kaldwin, Royce Melborn, Tifa Lockhart
Location building 241 and building 242, then ???
Date: morning of 162 through ???
Summary: rescue, hallucinations, eventual mourning of dead people; it's gonna be a party for sure
Warnings: n/a; will edit if anything comes up

Catch-all for EVERYTHING - rescuing the blind gangster asshole, dealing with the event-induced static, etc. Top-level and tag as you see fit.

Comments

BUILDING 236 - evening 163

[devoutish]

A small tool shed. It has a lot of boxes in it, but the vast majority are empty. It's cold, but it's not too bad if you're alone. The more people, the tighter the fit, of course. A rough map of the entrance area is drawn on the inside of the door, along with the following warning: "An anomaly has been trapped in the bathroom in the fire station. Avoid if possible, and use caution if you have to pass through or spend the night. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR. @standardissue" The fire station (242) and the fast food place (248) are both labeled as such, with an X on 236 with the note: "You are here."

[powersouls]

[By the time everything seems to calm down in the morning, Tifa is absolutely exhausted. She feels like the screaming from the tunnels is still echoing in her head, even though she's certain it's gone, and a dull ache has settled into her bones. After lockdown, she paces for a bit, absently toeing at some of the boxes on the floor. At one point, she reads the message on the wall silently, chewing on her lip, arms crossed tightly across her chest.

Finally, Tifa wraps herself in a blanket and parks in herself in a corner, feeling weirdly like Royce while she's doing it. She's been trying to keep her spirits up for Emily, or at least pretend that she's doing okay, but she's finally run out of steam. Nathan dying was what did it, she thinks, combined with the last few terrifying days, and now she just can't keep up her usual relentless cheer. She'd go to sleep, but she's afraid she'll hear that screaming again, and she keeps seeing eyes on the walls, on her skin, just at the edges of her vision. It's enough to leave her jittery and anxious on top of everything else.]

[devoutish]

[Alfie is in a similar state. He's more tense than usual, and a deep frown is etched across his face more often than not. His keeps his tablet out and switched on at all times, checking it often as he sits - as he broods, really.

He looks up at Tifa at one point, tiredly.]

Eaten yet?

[powersouls]

I'm okay.

[So, not yet.]

I'm just tired.

[True! But also a much more pathetic version of her usual avoidance.]

[devoutish]

Long week.

[He knows.]

Eat something before we leave tomorrow.

[powersouls]

I will. You don't have to worry about me, Alfie.

[Hypocrite.]

[devoutish]

[Oh, he knows. He raises an eyebrow at her.]

[powersouls]

[Tifa frowns, shrinking into her blanket a little. She's really not in the mood for any sort of confrontation.]

What?

[devoutish]

I'm getting very tired of words to the effect of "I'll be all right, no need to ever ask after me, I'm always all right".

[powersouls]

[She bites her lip, going silent for a long moment.]

You have enough to worry about.

[Which is... basically exactly the response he's getting sick of, so Tifa shifts, picking at the hem of the blanket as she tries to think of a better explanation.]

And I'm not... I'm not very good at talking about things.

[At least, not when it involved her feelings.]

[bywolves]

[ The shed is tiny, and Royce is on edge. Tifa's upset, and he almost leeches onto it - he doesn't want to take out his bad mood on her, not consciously, but she's a target. A good target, because he knows deep down, like with Alfie, that she's unlikely to just let him get away with it. ]

Stop fidgeting. [ Royce snaps sharply at some point during the night, voice hoarse and pissed off. He knows he's going to get yelled at. Good. ]

[powersouls]

[The response he gets isn't as venomous as he might have hoped—Tifa is just too drained to manage it. He does get a sigh, though.]

You were pacing and stabbing the walls last night, and I didn't yell at you.

[bywolves]

There are no eyes left. [ Maybe if he says it out loud that'll make it true. ] I had an excuse. You don't. Stop fidgeting.

[powersouls]

[Tifa lets out a soft sound, barely a huff of breath, and burrows down further into the blankets, frowning.]

Stop being a jerk, Royce.

[bywolves]

[ He doesn't know what else to pick at, and she just straight up calls him out - he doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't. Instead, he pulls his knees close to his chest and is silent for a good couple of minutes.

And then, irritated: ] What's wrong with you?

[powersouls]

Do you actually care?

[bywolves]

[ Another long pause, like he isn't going to answer, and then he looks over at her, slowly. ]

Yes.

[bywolves]

[ A tool shed is the last damn place he wants to be after the night before. He's prickly and upset and he wants nothing to do with anybody. Every once in a while, he sees the eyes, sees them for a split second, and it's driving him crazy. He's losing his godsdamned mind and he isn't dealing well.

Most attempts to talk to Royce are going to be met with silence. It probably won't stay that way, with how he's practically buzzing with angry energy, a dark cloud in his corner of the shed, blocked off by as many boxes as he could get behind.

But as silent as he is, there's going to be a hell of a lot of arguments he's not going to be able to stop himself from getting into. The mania's getting worse, and he's recognizing it, his mood getting fouler and fouler as he tries to keep himself quiet, ignoring the knot of anxiety it causes in his chest. ]

[devoutish]

[If Alfie is angry with Royce, he's not showing it. He's been grumpy and on edge all day, but none of it is directed at anybody in particular. With his eyesight back, he's currently busying himself with noting down the writing on the walls. It's a small enough space that he's not in danger of missing anything, but that small space creates other issues.]

Duck your head, mate.

[He motions to Royce.]

You're blocking a word.

[bywolves]

[ No response. He doesn't move, doesn't look at Alfie, doesn't say anything. Make him. ]

[devoutish]

Duster, stop being a child and duck your head.

[bywolves]

[ If Royce could growl, he would. He still doesn't move, but this time, he looks up at Alfie, eyes sharp and bright under the hood, mouth curled slightly into a shitty sort of smirk. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie stands, and gives him a shove out of the way - not hard, and not enough to knock him over, but not gently either.]

[bywolves]

[ Shoving makes Royce's mindset go somewhere dark - people try to hit him with swords, more often than not, but shoving? Shoving was something he used to reply to with biting, when he was a kid. It takes just about everything in him not to bite but instead whap Alfie on the shoulder with his broomstick. Not to harm, just to sting. ]

[devoutish]

[The broomstick connects, and Alfie grabs it, holding on and locking eyes with Royce.]