snowblindrpg | [log] Is Your Conscience All Right? [closed]

[A small, half-destroyed apartment, but it seals up at night. The living room and kitchen area is a useless mess of debris, but the single bedroom--with a mattress--and bathroom (the shower doesn't work, sorry) beyond are acceptable enough, if sparsely decorated in neutral tones.]

[Though the building itself isn't the largest, the high ceilings and information desk through the double doors make it clear that this is a museum. This area is clearly marked as the West Entrance. Occasionally, information pamphlets can be found naming this place as the Norfinbury Museum of Art.

Surprisingly, most of the art has been left in the museum, and what hasn't been left still bears an informative plaque about the piece. None of the artist names are familiar, and nothing is dated any later than 2050. Unfortunately, probably due to the failed climate control, much of the artwork has degraded.

What can still be made out seems to indicate that this museum had an eclectic collection of traditional Alaska Native art as well as pieces contributed by other artists living in Norfinbury. Some of the plaques indicate that the museum was dedicated to fully encompassing the diverse and creative spirit of the town. There appear to have been a few works addressing the protests, but the information on these is minimal compared to less political pieces.

The building is bisected through the middle by the collapsed glass roof. Once buried in snow and rubble, a path has been carved through the mess, revealing the other half of the museum.

Where the western hall seemed to degrade from neglect, it's very clear that the eastern hall has been purposefully destroyed. Glass display cases have been shattered, sculptures dissected, frames knocked to the floor and paintings shredded. Information plaques have been painted over or broken entirely. Graffiti covers the walls, even up near the high ceilings. It doesn't resemble traditional vandalism, though, the illustrations chaotic and abstracted even where they represent recognizable subjects. Eyes feature prominently, in various stages of abstraction and occasionally grotesque in appearance. Though often barely legible, the words "long live the prophet" are also recurring throughout.Continuing on, the East Entrance area is architecturally a mirror of the West Entrance, but it has been similarly ransacked. There's barely an inch of wall that hasn't been vandalized, and the only informational pamphlets have been ripped to tiny pieces. But at least the double doors can be opened.]

[All that remains of this apartment is the living room. All the furniture is gone, but the floor is covered in dark, plush brown carpeting. There's a faux fireplace on the wall that has been converted into something of a shrine: in the center is a crude wooden carving of a human figure with an eye symbol drawn on the face, its only actual facial feature. It can't be picked up--anyone trying will find it's far too heavy to lift at all. There are very old bloodstains surrounding the altar.]

OTA - Night
[They probably should have expected that to fail, but House can't help feeling frustrated after the efforts with the dolls hadn't done anything. He'd even cut himself, heart beating out of his chest. Now they have four bloodstained dolls and the goddamn bitch in the chair still isn't coming up.

House isn't in much of a mood to chat, and he's curled up on the mattress, facing the wall and just glaring as he scrolls through the network quietly. He's using his pack as a pillow of sorts. If anyone approaches, he doesn't look up, but House does acknowledge them, if only because his paranoia about people looming behind him can't stand him not doing anything. His comments are curt, though.]

Unless you're about to say something interesting, go away. I'm taking the bed for tonight. Rickety old man privileges.

Ecks - Morning 175
[It's only half an hour before lockdown ends. House's goal is reaching the museum today and heading deeper into the tunnels to find more dolls. They need ten if those stands are what they're going by. Four is, at least, a start... and maybe this other one will come up when the others are in place.

House is actually eating these days and while he's still irritated from yesterday, his mood is stable enough that it's just an irritation. Onward and upward. Hange's been looking, so maybe they've found something at this point. He glances over at the others in the very dim light cast by their tablets to make sure they're getting ready.]

Ecks, you need to drop some weight once we get to the museum. Stash your stash somewhere. The floors around her are too unstable for all the crap you're carrying.

[He mostly means ditch the dead weight of the stuffed animals.]

Edited 2016-11-13 05:46 (UTC)

[House is too agitated to sleep, and there are all those eyes. He can see some of the ones he'd marked out among them, the edges of his vision flaring with a light that shouldn't be there. The logical part of his mind that isn't working on too little sleep, obsession, and paranoia is quite adamant that those, at least aren't real. But he takes out his hammer, anyway, and starts going to town on the wall, cracking through drywall and wood alike.

Catching him in the middle of that middle of that might be dangerous if only for flying debris. But if Jade and Brian give him a few hours, he slides down to his knees, hands shaking as his pants and rests his head against the wall. There's nothing here. That much had been obvious in the first thirty minutes. But everything in him is screaming to destroy something.

He pops a pill and just rests for a moment.]

[Admittedly, it has become more of an effort to stow everything in bags and arrange said bags to be carry-able each morning. Still, Ecks fancies herself an expert packer, and she's just finishing getting everything put away.]

I need these things. Some of them I need to trade to others soon.

Who are you trading with and for what?

[If this is about Alfie and more stuffed animals...]

I am trading with Enoch and with Charles and with Alfie. I am going to trade for kerosene.

[He should be happy to hear that, right?]

And for fake animals.

[He does approve of the kerosene, but the stuffed animals.]

Jesus Christ. Would you get over the goddamn stuffed animals? You're trading useful things for worthless crap.

They are not useless. They are useful. They have use.

Name ten unique uses. None of those can be for emotional comfort.

Pillows for sleeping. Warmth for sleeping. Opening the door at the east end of the tunnel ruins.

[...and with that she's run out. Ecks falls silent and fidgets with the zipper of her bag.]

They are not heavy.

Their weight adds up. Not to mention they're bulky. Bulky's not good in these tunnels.

They compress.

[Caterpillar doesn't compress. Caterpillar has to hang from the outside of her pack.]

And leave less room for other things.

[You're not getting out of this, Ecks.]

They leave enough room. I brought more than a week of food, before.

[She's having a thought, here....]

You could carry more things if you were not carrying the ragdolls.

[That gets a raise of House's brow.]

You have enough. You're not getting mine. We need to take them east, not let you cuddle them at night.

*The noise draws his attention but he doesn't do anything to stop--or help with--House's rampage. He just watches quietly, films it all, and stays out of the way.

Once it seems House is done, he heads over towards the other man. At first he just stands nearby and cants his head.*

I am going to go east, the same as you are. If I carry the dolls for you they will still be taken east.

You're going off to trade with people. Get packed and eat breakfast. We're moving out soon.

[That settles that as far as House is concerned. He zips up his own pack and heads over to the restroom, leaving it with Ecks. He doesn't particularly trust Brian, but Jade should be fine and Ecks is fine once she's been told what to do.]

[At first House ignores him, but he head Brian walking over--his gait is lighter than Jade's--and the doctor can't ignore the kid forever.]

What?

[He doesn't turn to look at Brian.]

*Its the kind of 'greeting'' he expects from House so it doesn't really get a response beyond what he'd planned already.
He sends House a message through the tablets, cause talking is for chumps.*

did ityou find achi eve
any thing ?

[House hears his tablet ping.]

Use your voice if you wanna talk, kid. I'm not in the mood to read.

*He shakes his head and sends another message.*

no
iam not in
mood
to talk

[And there's another ping. House just wants to throw his hammer at the kid at this point.]

Turn on your goddamn text-to-voice.

*He'd actually forgotten that was a thing...but he doesn't like House enough to switch to it.*

no y ou

[And the tablet pings again. House sets down his hammer, picks up a chunk of broken wall, turns, and hurls it somewhere nearby Brian. He doesn't actually throw it at Brian, but the intent to frighten the young man is clearly there.]

[She watches him go, frustrated beyond measure. He is being unreasonable. He does not even like the dolls and fake animals, but he is taking them all for himself, not even letting her carry one like he said he would.

She packs the rest of her things. She starts to get out food for breakfast.

She gets an idea.

It will not hurt anything. They are all going east together in the end. Ecks does her best not to disturb the rest of House's things as she deftly unzips his pack and slips a hand inside to feel for the dolls she knows are in there. She will be quick, she will be quiet, and she means to have a doll squirreled away in her own pack by the time he gets back.]

[The problem with House is that for all his apparent disorder and laziness, he's an incredibly meticulous person. Norfinbury has only enhanced that ever since Angel stole a portion of his meds. Ecks will have had time to get the ragdoll into her own pack by the time that House steps out of the bathroom again. He heads over to his pack and proceeds to unzip it to pull out his own breakfast now his hands are clean.

That's when he notes the way certain contents have shifted. He digs a little.]

I'm gonna pretend you didn't just steal that ragdoll if you put it down next to me in the next five seconds.

[House doesn't move, he doesn't turn to look at Ecks, and he doesn't name her. It should be very obvious who he's speaking, too, though.]

[She watches him more carefully than she should as she eats her peanuts, though she tries to pretend she isn't watching him at all. When he speaks she tenses, then hunches slowly in on herself. One hand goes out to her pack, which she draws to her side.

Five seconds.

Four seconds.

Three seconds.

Two.

One.

She does not open her pack to remove the doll.]

*He darts to the side, but doesn't leave. He continues to stare towards House.
~~He might just be being difficult.~~*

[He turns to look at her, staring her down for a few long seconds.]

Pull out your rule book.

[It's not a request. It's an order, said as if he's telling her to fetch him a switch.]

[It's as though the strain of disobeying one command makes it easier to break and obey the next. Ecks always knows exactly where her book is, and she has it out in a flash despite the knot she can feel forming in her stomach. Now her gaze slides away; she won't look at him.]

Open it to the page with your flow chart for stealing.

[This is not going to end well for you, Ecks.]

Show me how this is justified.

[She turns the pages obediently, but then her movement ceases. She sits with the rulebook open in her lap, face turned down and eyes on the pages, but she doesn't need to read it to know. There is no way through this flow chart that ends in justification.

She doesn't move and she doesn't speak. The sound that does come out of her sounds more like a machine than a person, just a long, toneless whine that slowly grows in volume.]

What do you want from me? Clearly it's something. So talk, turn on your damn text-to-voice, or get the hell away from me!

[House ignores the whine and just speaks over it.]

Yeah. That's what I thought. Give me the goddamn doll and get out of my sight once lockdown ends. You don't get to travel with me anymore. I'd rather be dead than has some brat who steals useful things from me around.

[If she'd stolen something that wasn't critical, he would have let it slide, but this? This makes him genuinely angry. House can feel the resentment building up already. He'd let her get closer than most anyone here, and this is what happens.]

*He will do exactly none of those things, instead settling down to sit against the opposite wall.

He won't bug House unprompted anymore, though.*

[Her hands tighten on the book, wrinkling the pages as she finally looks up at him, her face still a blank. He has struck what feels like a fatal blow with his words; she can't comprehend it. Shaking hands cast the book aside and unzip her bag, thrust the doll in his direction as disjointed words bubble out of her.]

Five seconds pretend please, won't again.

[House glares at Brian for a long moment before petulantly destroying more of the wall. He tires himself out much more quickly this go around, though, and eventually sits down, putting his back to the wall opposite the young man in the mask.

Pointedly, he doesn't pick up his tablet or look at the messages that Brian has sent him.]

Shouldn't you be with the dog?

*Two can play that game, House.

He doesn't respond to the question, but he does play with his tablet. If you have something to say, maybe you should message it.*

[House takes the doll and stuffs it in his bag just as the telltale click of the doors unlocking goes off.]

That ship sailed. Get out, Ecks.

[They seem to be at an impasse. So, House pulls out his notebook and pens and starts writing.]

What the hell do you even want?

[The note gets folded into a paper airplane and then thrown at Brian. It will land in his lap or nearby.]

Edited 2016-11-30 04:24 (UTC)

[She can't -- she can't handle this. Something inside of Ecks shuts down and it's like she's just watching herself as she puts her book back in her bag and does exactly as ordered.]

*He lets it sit for a few moments--long enough to finish whatever he was doing on the tablet--before unfolding it and writing a response.*

tⓍknⓍw
if you fⓍund learn ed any thing
Ⓧr ifyou were just be ing
emⓍ ti Ⓧnal

*He then folds it back into the same airplane and shoots it towards House.*

[Wow, okay. First of all? He's never just emotional. He's destroying this for science.]

You don't have the excuse of a computer. Write like a normal person.

I'm looking for anything behind the eyes. Nothing, yet. I'm not emotional.

[Paper plane coming your way, Brian.]

thisis howi
write

*Please, House, you should have picked up he's not a normal person by now.*

o kay

*He's not going to get into the emotional thing. The only important part is if House found or achieved anything and since the answer to that seems to be 'no' he's perfectly happy to let the rest lie.

He shoots the paper airplane back over to House and returns (most of) his attention to his tablet.*

[Well, yes, but even House can't avoid the ingrained lessons to capitalize and end sentences with punctuation when it's actual writing as opposed to typing. When he receives the paper airplane back, he just rolls his eyes and turns his attention to his own tablet. He doesn't pull up Brian's messages and will ignore any of them from him for the foreseeable future.]

[log] Is Your Conscience All Right? [closed]

Day 174 - Building 182

Day 175 - Building 199

Day 176 - Building 217

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morning

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sorry this took so long

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all of his hand written Os are crossed out, please just accept that from now on

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