snowblindrpg | [log] Hey Goldmember [closed]

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[log] Hey Goldmember [closed]

Characters: Doctors Strange and Watson
Location: Building 124
Date: 432
Summary: Two physicians journey into the dark
Warnings: will add as needed

124: This house, covered in snow, is dark and cold, but better than outside. The snow presses in on the windows and makes the roof creak and groan whenever it shifts, but it seems to be holding up alright. It's a standard, single-story house with a living room, single bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and dining room. There's a bed frame in the bedroom, but it doesn't have a mattress. The house is sparsely furnished, unfortunately with mostly metal There's a back door leading off into darkness, but it isn't locked. There's a blue smear on the bathroom cabinet. Xs have been carved into the cabinets in the kitchen. There are large smears of black spraypaint on the front and back doors. "Hsiaoke Pass" had been carved into the wall next to the back door, but it's been scratched off crudely with some sort of blade. It's been carved back in again nearby, deeply and with purpose. This marking has been stained into the material above the front door. "ALPHONSE ELRIC, DAY TWO HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN. IF YOU NEED ANY ASSISTANCE, PLEASE CALL @LELRIC." has been written on a wall.

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The pain hasn't come back yet. Stephen knows he should worry about that--not because he's ever heard of a death price that doesn't end, but because the journey they're about to undertake will be all the more dangerous if he's unable to tell whether he's injured. He's debated whether to tell Doctor Watson; he could use the help monitoring his own condition, but he suspects it might lead to an argument over whether he ought to be doing this at all.

The initial euphoria has worn off, his brain no longer mistaking the lack of the pain with which he normally lives for some kind of chemical high. That worries him more; if his body and mind accept this as his new normal it will be all the worse when it comes back. He feels more clearheaded than he has in months, and it leaves him with a burning desire to make the most of it while he's able. While he's fully himself again.

For now, though, he must wait. He rattles around the darkened house, feeling the emptiness of it keenly as he rifles through cabinets in search of anything that might have been left here by a previous traveler. The entire town is dying in a way he didn't know a place could die. He's running a hand over the words "Hsiaoke Pass," a distant look in his eyes, when he hears the front door open.

"Doctor Watson?" he calls, perhaps needlessly. His tablet illuminates his silhouette and the wall near him, called into service as a flashlight. "Back here!"

"Dr. Strange, yeah, it's me!" Just since they're doing the standard call and response. John closes the door and lets his pack duel backpacks down so that he can pull out his tablet. He leaves one of the packs in front of the door to give them some momentary cover if any anomalies try to burst in. Maybe it will trip the thing up.

"How are you... feeling?"

Maybe Stephen should be thinking about anomalies before he calls out to sounds in the darkness.

He pauses, trying to decide how much to read into that question. "Hungry?" he suggests. "Existentially tired. How everyone here feels, I imagine. Yourself?"

Probably he should be doing that.

"That about covers it. I've stopped into one of the shops relatively recently. It was only the one north of here, though. Interested in jerky or a somehow simultaneously soggy and frozen ham sandwich?"

"Actually, frozen ham sounds amazing. I'm out of anything even pretending to be fresh."

At least he hadn't died with a totally empty pack. Small mercies. Otherwise he would have had to insist on more time to go up to the convenience store himself.

"It look like that place was stagnating, too?"

"Looks like. I just hope the hot water in the apartment building past here hasn't given out. About the one good thing about coming through this way is the unlimited hot water." Small mercies when he'd frozen to death in here before.

John moves back to his packs and rummages around for the ham sandwich. "Sounds like some people might be doing a food run downtown, at least. That'll be where the last of the good stuff is. Bloody annoying they put it at literally the farthest point from where we need to be."

"I stand by my assessment that these things have been done deliberately," mutters Stephen. "Some of it seems natural enough--the bunker was at the epicenter of whatever happened, so of course the terrain is worse. But then the system was perfectly capable of supplying materials to all parts of town--so why not reallocate?"

This is all a moot point by this point in events, but he spends a lot of time thinking about the things that can't be helped.

"I don't... recall if anyone actually asked the Admin if she could reallocate where the food was going. Might've been set for the automated system that only certain things get delivered certain places?"

And for the moment, a ham sandwich is being delivered to Stephen.

"And now she's not talking to us," comments Stephen ruefully. He takes the sandwich and bites right into it, making a face at the texture but already wolfing it down anyway.

"No. I think that's probably Mr. Miller. Or maybe it's whatever's left of the cult?" God, he almost hopes it's Miller. He's tired of everything, but the Prophet and that nonsense is about the limit of it.

"Remember to chew, by the way. I don't want you throwing that up as soon as it's all down."

"We never got at that computer in the tower," Stephen points out around a mouthful of soggy ham. So it could still be the cult, John. He rolls his eyes at the advice, but makes a point of lowering the sandwich and chewing the bite in his mouth. It'll probably still hit his stomach like a rock.

"But the Admin quarantined it. It's like... it doesn't even exist anymore. Or it... halfway doesn't exist." It's not the best argument he has, but it's the only argument available, really.

"So, probably Mr. Miller. Bastard's throwing out every stop to muck things up."

"Wish I knew what he was getting out of it," mutters Stephen. "Hell of a long way to go for garden variety sadism."

"Power, maybe? It seems like he's been trying to subvert the Admin since he broke us into teams for those emergency repair things." Had Stephen been here for that? It's so long ago, it's hard to remember. "Maybe he wants her job? Not much of a job, though. Watching over a dying town."

That was, indeed, a hell of a long time ago, back when Stephen was still new here.

"Revenge of the IT guy," says Stephen with a derisive huff of laughter. "You'd think he'd be looking for a way out of here, too."

"Didn't they make a movie about that?" He's thinking 'Revenge of the Nerds,' actually, but it's a bit outside his cultural landscape to really remember it beyond pop culture references in Hollywood films he's watched. "Maybe he likes it here. Figures if he can get around Eve and have these anomalies he'll be... some sort of king of this little frozen kingdom."

John scrunches up his nose. "He's welcome to keep it. It's the rest of us who want out."

"Right?" says Stephen. "It's not like we'd stop him from squatting here if he'd just work with us instead of against us. Though at this point...."

At this point half the town would probably murder him on sight.

"At this point, he'll be lucky if there's anything left of him if we catch hold of him." John will just finish out that thought. He's had more than one night spent imagining what he might do to Robert Miller if he ever manages to meet the man. They're so close to it now he can taste it. They just need that door open.

"So, what's your death price, by the way? Has it worn off, yet?"

Stephen's never been much of a liar; omission is the best he usually manages, and even that....

His brow furrows a moment, displeased at being asked, but there's only moment's awkward pause. "Analgesia," he replies, knowing how bad it'll sound given what's ahead of them. "It's...manageable. No injuries so far; I've been checking."

John pulls a face. He can't help it. That's a hell of a problem to be dealing with going into Hsiaoke Pass of all places. There are hazards everywhere.

"Can you still feel pressure, at least?"

Yep, that was his thought, too.

"Yeah, I've got that much," he replies. "I'll know if I've hit something. Probably."

"Small favors. You've been back... a little more than a day now? With any luck, it'll be something that disappears quickly, right. We'll just make sure to check every few hours."

That's something to worry about. "It's dangerous in there, anyway. Just another reminder to be careful, right?"

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[log] Hey Goldmember [closed]

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I think we can fade out on this in the next tag or two!