[log] Party in house 43! [closed]

[deus_ex_phs]

Characters: Kunsel, Zack, Tifa, Steve, Beckett, Rydia (and possibly other people who are in house 43 on night 55??)
Location House 43
Date: Night 55
Summary: So, three soldiers, a vampire, and two hot girls walk into a house...
Warnings: I have no idea.

[Go ahead and write your own prompt(s)! Searching for items? Swapping what you've found? Comparing war scars? Passing information and sharing warnings?

Have at it!]

Comments

[starsandtights]

[1]
[It's twilight and getting darker when Steve trudges up to a decent-looking two-story house ("whichever house looks nicer" he and Rydia had agreed). There are footprints in the snow outside; somebody is in this house, at least a couple of somebodies. He kicks the snow off his boots, then carefully opens the front door, poking his head inside and raising his voice to call out.]

Rydia? Beckett?

[2]
[Once the initial meet and greet has kind of dissolved, Steve peels off to do his usual search. He's efficient, quick but thorough, starting at the top and working his way down to the basement. He's pleased to find some soap in a bathroom, along with some "beard shampoo" (apparently that's a thing?). Down in the basement he finds a basketball and picks it up, bouncing it a few times contemplatively. God, but what he wouldn't do for a knife.

The house is as searched as it's going to get, so he goes looking to see what the others are up to, tucking the ball under one arm and using his tablet to light his way in the dim house.]

[deus_ex_phs]

[Kunsel's luck hasn't been nearly so good in his search, finding only two hangers in a closet in the bedroom. Still, he can think of potential uses for those hangers, so he's on his way back to where he's set his things when one of the others comes up from the basement.

It's Steve. Even in the dim light provided by their tablets, Kunsel can tell it's not Zack or one of the girls, and his build is too large, his gait completely different, to be Beckett. Kunsel nods in greeting, then stops and blinks. Is that...?]

Okay, I'll bite. What are you going to do with that?

[Though there's a hint of amusement in the SOLDIER Second's voice, there's also a good deal of curiosity. What is Steve going to do with a ball?]

[starsandtights]

Kain, hi.

Steve's doing that thing where when you've just met someone you use their name as often as possible so you don't forget it. Steve is a dork. But a dork who remembers people's names!

He glances down at the basketball, then drops it to one hand and spins it on one finger briefly, grinning.]

Pick-up game?

[He laughs to himself, tucking the ball against his side again.]

Nahhhh... it depends. Maybe nothing. Maybe something, if I can get my hands on a knife. Know anybody in your group with a sharp knife I could borrow?

[deus_ex_phs]

[That's okay. Kunsel doesn't mind Steve being a dork at him. He's fine with taking the friendly greeting at face value, though his eyes do track the motion of the ball for a moment, noting the coordination involved.

Isn't this the guy who introduced himself as a Captain on the network...?

Tucking the question and the observation aside for a moment, Kunsel tilts his head in response.]

If you had a knife, what would you do with it?

[A knife and a ball... He's trying to find the connection.]

[starsandtights]

Cut the outer skin off. There's a rubber bladder on the inside, that's what holds the air. Cut the valve off the bladder to make a little hole—voilà, water bottle. I mean I'll have to come up with some kind of watertight plug for the hole, but it's a start.

[deus_ex_phs]

[Kunsel's expression brightens with the explanation.]

That's clever. I might have to try that myself, if my group finds a ball. We've found ways to carry extra food, but water's another story.

[But with that explanation, he's willing enough to slip a cutlet knife from his pocket, which he hold out hilt first to the other man.]

Here. Go ahead and borrow mine.

[starsandtights]

[Steve perks up when Kain offers the knife.]

Oh hey, thanks! That's perfect!

[With a nod of thanks, Steve accepts the knife awkwardly with the arm that's hugging the basketball, holding the blade up to the light of his tablet and inspecting it carefully, pressing his thumb lightly against the edge to test it. He smiles, satisfied.]

Oh yeah, this'll work great. Uh... c'mon, dining room.

[He jerks his head in that direction and strides off, just assuming Kain will want to follow him and keep an eye on his knife. He juggles a few things so he can snag his packs from where he left them in the hall and hauls everything into the dining room, dropping his packs next to the table and pulling out a chair with his foot so he can plop down into it. He keeps chattering while doing all this, talking to Kain over his shoulder.]

You might try the athletic shed by the school. Found a football in there; one of the guys I bunked with let me borrow his knife so I gave it the same treatment. There might be some other balls hidden away in there. Or something like this—

[He pulls the plastic baseball bat from where it's sticking out of one of his packs, demonstrating how he's cut the end of the handle off and crushed it slightly where it's cut so it now fits snugly into the end of the hollow bat. He grins, pleased with himself.]

Pretty good, eh? So long as I keep it upright. It'll be better if I can get some wax on that plug, seal it up tighter.

[deus_ex_phs]

[Kunsel follows Steve willingly, and not just to keep an eye on his knife. Friendly, conversational, and he's offering useful tips. That's plenty of reason to keep this conversation up. No offense to Zack or Tifa, but it's refreshing getting to talk to someone new face to face.]

Huh. I'll have to keep that in mind. Zack and I were originally headed that way, before something came up, and now we're headed somewhere else, but maybe we'll end up back that way at some point.

[In which case, he's definitely interested in taking a closer look at that bat to see what Steve did with it. Reaching out for it, he looks over the mangled end as he sits down to join Steve at the table.]

You know, I picked up a candle a couple days back. There should be more than enough wax to seal something like this.

[starsandtights]

It's convenient to the school cafeteria, so I'm sure you'll be by there again at some point, unless you plan to be more in the neighborhood of that convenience store I heard about.

[Steve perks up again. Wow, this guy has all the good stuff.]

Really? And you... you wouldn't mind if I used some of that? [Hopeful face.]

[deus_ex_phs]

Probably more around the convenience store.

[He's just going to keep his answer a little vague. No offense, but he doesn't really know you, Steve. Nowhere near well enough to be honest about his plans. His paranoia's been cranked up a notch ever since he found out Sephiroth was here, regardless of what the man remembers and what he doesn't.

Besides, they've got something else on hand he can focus on instead.]

Anyway, sure. It'll be worth it to see if the wax is good enough to work as a seal. Besides, I'm not that stingy. Hang on a second while I go get it.

[He hands the bat back before heading to his pack. It's not long before he returns with a pillar candle. Really, he hadn't been kidding that there was more than enough wax to share.]

[powersouls]

[Tifa is doing her best to braid her hair in the dark by feel, which is made more difficult with fingers stiff from the cold. She gives up as Steve approaches, combing the half done braid out with her hands. She's still stuck in her miniskirt, which she's gone from thinking of as cute to a horrifically impractical death wish over the past few days.

Is that a basketball?]

Are you going to keep that...?

[The unasked "why?" is pretty obvious.]

[starsandtights]

[Steve smiles when he recognizes Tifa. He likes her, and he feels a strange sort of kinship with her since they arrived on the same day. Proud members of the Snowhell FOB club.

He glances down at the basketball.]

Maybe, maybe not. Depends on if I can find someone with a knife they're willing to lend me...

[He trails off, distracted by her bare legs. NOT LIKE THAT. He frowns and tucks his tablet into a pocket, sets the basketball on the floor, and immediately starts tugging his race car blanket/improvised hood out from where it's tucked into his coat. He holds the child-sized blanket out to her.]

Here, take this. It's not pants, but it's longer and warmer than the skirt you've got on, anyway.

[powersouls]

[She's about to ask what he needs a knife for when he offers her the blanket. Tifa stands up quickly, and her face lights up, but she hesitates.]

Are you sure?

[She feels bad taking it when they can all use all the layers they can get.]

[starsandtights]

I am absolutely positive. You need it more than me. I've still got plenty of sheet I can repurpose, I'll, I dunno, try to figure out how to make a turban or something.

...Please take it. I should've offered earlier, I guess I got distracted meeting everyone. [It's clear from his face he's feeling guilty about this.]

[powersouls]

Thank you.

[Everyone here has been so kind to her, despite the situation they're in. It makes everything so much easier. She takes the blanket and wraps it around her waist, where it clashes terribly with the neon color block windbreaker Zack gave her.]

I have a sheet, too! Do you want it?

[That's probably something she should hold on to, honestly, but she can't leave Steve with nothing.]

[starsandtights]

You're welcome.

[Steve smiles a little bit, but as the guy who until a moment ago was wearing the race car blanket on his head, it's not like he can say anything about her fashion statement.

He casts his eye over her, then decides he's still better off, warmth-wise. He shakes his head.]

Nah. Keep it. I've got two queen-sized sheets, even if one of them is in multiple pieces. [He gestures vaguely to his various sheet-based accessories: wraps for his hands, a scarf, a bandana for his face, although it's pulled down at the moment.] And I've got a lot of layers on under this coat. I think I'm good, but thank you. [He smiles.]

[powersouls]

[Tifa muffles a giggle with her hand. They all look ridiculous, don't they?]

Smart.

[She has threes sets of gloves on, herself.]

Did you get a lot of training to deal with cold weather like this?

[starsandtights]

[Steve grins at her giggle. Yeah. Yeah they do.]

Yeah, fair amount of training from the Army and S.H.I.E.L.D. Mostly from experience, though. Fought in Europe in the wintertime, often in the mountains, which was, uh. Cold.

Keep your core warm, that's the most important part. But you gotta protect your extremities, too, you don't wanna get frostbite. If you lose feeling in your fingers and toes, do whatever you can to warm 'em up again, rub 'em, get the blood moving. Be careful about sweating. I know it sounds crazy in this cold, but if you're working hard with a lot of layers on, you're going to get sweaty, and that's dangerous—wet clothes are the enemy. Take wet clothes off if you can. If you know you're going to sweat, ditch the inner layers ahead of time so you've got something dry to put on. Wool or synthetics can still keep you warm when wet; cotton is the worst, try very hard not to wear wet cotton. Eat a lot of calories, and don't forget to drink; just 'cause it's not hot doesn't mean you can't get dehydrated. [He thinks for a moment.] ...Yeah, that's the important stuff, mostly.

[powersouls]

I grew up in the mountains, but this is so different.

[Obviously. But it's a lot easier to survive below freezing weather when you can just put on a coat and turn up the heat indoors without fear of going crazy. She smiles again, though.]

You seem like a good person to have around.

[powersouls]

[Tifa is in the living room, curled up on the couch. She's still desperately trying to stay warm, and has slowly begun to hate her skirt. It was cute, once! Now it just makes her miserable.

At the moment, she's leaning forward, studying the enormous rug on the floor with that angry goose on it.]

What a weird mascot.

[Geese aren't very intimidating. But... No one's going to judge her if she pulls the rug over her legs and uses it as a blanket, are they? Because that's exactly what she's planning. She gets up off the couch and grabs one arm to drag it off of the rug. It isn't unreasonably heavy, but the carpet wrinkles and the feet snag.]

Hey, can someone help me lift this?

[blessedmaiden]

It's ugly.

[Rydia recognized Tifa when their groups met but she had been a bit too busy trying to dry herself a bit (stupid messy and curly hair) to greet the others bu as son as soon as everyone was more or less set in the house she finally dared to approach her after taking off her turtleneck in private. Now, even if messy and probably not in the best condition, the warm piece of clothing had been folded carefully, goodbye comforting friend.]

But I've seen worse and we can't be too picky here, can we? Here.

[With a wide smile she offered the other woman the blue item before moving near the couch and grabbing the other side. She was weak, okay, but this wasn't beyond her possibilities. And maybe they could share the rug for the night.]

Here we go. Tifa, right?

[heroproceeding]

{A}

[ This is Zack staring through the glass of the display case at that spiffy looking jersey inside.

This is Zack staring at the lock on said display case.

This is Zack sliding off the pack on his back.

And this. This is Zack removing the hammer from it...

Clearly, good life choices are happening here. ]

{B}

[ There's something kind of comforting when he takes a moment to pick up the hockey stick from its display rack on the wall. Sure, it doesn't have a sharp edge and honestly? He can't see it lasting forever against anyone or anything. But it's still sturdy and has a good reach. Outside of the fire poker he picked up, it's about as close to as reminiscent as he'll get of the swords he used back home. He takes a few practiced swings, feeling its weight before flourishing it with a small smile. A smile that starts to fade as his eyes land on the posters surrounding him. ]

Huh... Must'a really been into... whatever all this is.

[bookofnope]

[Beckett is willing to swear on his Clan antediluvian's unmarked tomb that he isn't trying to anatognise Zack. Ever since the two groups met, he'd been avoiding the other man as studiously as it is at all possible for one person to avoid another in a group of six snowed in together in a small house. Which basically means it's inevitable that they end up in the same room eventually, pretty much back to back, as Beckett is preoccupied with the posters while Zack grabs the stick. Posters might have dates. Should have dates. If not on the front perhaps on the back. To work, then.

He's just pulled one off the wall behind Zack when there is the swish of a hockey stick swinging through the air. With the instinct of someone who gets things swishing behind his back rather often and never finds them to be anything good, he half-whirls around, the poster deforming in his hands.]

Watch it.

[It is the most businesslike of snaps. He isn't trying to pick a fight honestly.]

[heroproceeding]

[ He might not be trying to pick a fight, but really? Being in a room with Beckett's bad enough. So, the snap, warranted or not, doesn't deter the glare that automatically sets in Zack's expression. He scowls at him, unrepentant. ]

Then back off. [ Seriously, what made it a good idea to try and pick off those posters when Zack was more than noticeably trying out that stick for a weapon. Grudgingly, he adds: ] I wasn't even trying to hit you.

[ Because believe him. He would be swinging a lot faster and a lot harder when it came to clobbering you, man. The only thing stopping him from picking a fight is knowing he's gonna have to deal with the aftermath all night long. Which may or may not include dirty looks his way from the others in the big group staying there. ]

[bookofnope]

[There is no sensible reason as for why this young idiot should be getting under his skin, except perhaps that Beckett has been bottling up unspeakable amounts of rage and frustration for the past two weeks, and there is only so long that even he - who prides himself on control, who clings to it - can overlook a convenient target. And he can sense that Zack wants something to break out as much as he does.

Well, that in itself a good enough reason not to let it. It is established Kindred wisdom that the best way to fight an enemy is to drive them insane by not fighting them.]

What you were trying to do is moot, [he deadpans.] Certain people have instincts, I'm sure you know. If I did have to take you down, I'd rather it was at least intentional on my end.

[He raises the poster to look it over, incidentally - or not so much - using it to block out Zack's glare.]