snowblindrpg | [network] @CaptSteveRogers; text; Day 58; Two Very Important Posts [open]

Morning.

Good morning, Norfinbury. My previously-reported symptoms have not diminished and honestly it kinda hurts to talk, so. Text message it is. ...I realize I'm starting to sound obsessive, but... well, I'm giving this another try. If anyone goes to or has been to any of the morgues and sees or has seen these faces, please let me know. Please don't go out of your way, just... if you happen to be there for whatever reason, I'd appreciate the help. Please see attached. Thank you.

[Attached are three photographs of pages of Steve's sketchbook: detailed portraits of the faces of Peggy Carter (old like she is in CATWS), Clint Barton, and Loki, done in pencil.]

Afternoon.

Good news! Kain and Dr. Hot Stud had the correct instincts; toxic smoke from burning furniture and floorboards seems to be a problem specific to that one house. I broke a nightstand in the hot shower house and took some of it outside to burn, and it's going very nicely, no black toxic smoke whatsoever. It may be the mold after all, so maybe don't burn the furniture in the black mold house either, wherever that is. I did leave a note in the house where we got gassed to not burn the furniture, but just for clarity: this is the house southwest of the school with only one intact room, soft floors, moldy couch, some broken furniture and torn-up floorboards courtesy of us. The fireplace and chimney work just fine, and the nice dry firewood we started with didn't give us any problems, so as long as you've got dry, unrotted wood to burn I'd say go for it. Incidentally, when we tore up the floorboards in that house, the floor was metal underneath. Not sure if that's of interest to anyone. Anyway, just wanted to share those results. Do with that what you will. Take care, Norfinbury.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

YOU WENT TO GO BURN THINGS????
THAT'S WHERE YOU ARE??
:( :( :(

Edited (WRONG ICON and I forgot something in the subject sorry) 2015-11-23 18:57 (UTC)

[Steve winces a little. He didn't mean for him and Rydia to sneak out without telling Ginger where they were going... or maybe he did. Still. Oops?]

Sorry if we worried you. We didn't really mean to go out without letting you know, but you seemed kind of. Busy. [BUSY MAKING KISSYFACES AT CLAYTON ON YOUR TABLET.]

Rydia's headed back. I'm going to enjoy every iota of warmth from this very tiny fire, then I'm going to poke around the other house a bit. Back before lockdown, promise.

[Lies and slander! She wasn't...distracted by Clayton's cute cute face and attention at all! Not even a little bit! Alright, so she was. But that didn't mean she wouldn't have minded being interrupted!]

;O; ok as long as you promise!!
just don't take TOO long because your sick and need to be resting :(
be safe okay???

Edited 2015-11-25 03:05 (UTC)

I'll do my best.

[Hi Steve, have you had enough of people freaking out at you now? No? Good.]

Steve, what part of the concept of "bedrest" doesn't make sense to you?
Please tell me you're still feeling as pleased with yourself as you appeared to be this afternoon, because if you're sick and hypothermic, I'm coming back there and I'm not going to be happy about it.

[Between trying to comfort Tifa, and trying to keep Rydia company and freaking out about what's happening to her in the funeral home and wallowing in guilt, Steve's having a rough night. When Clayton's message comes through, the line about feeling pleased with himself feels like getting stabbed in the liver with broken glass; he squeezes his eyes shut against the feeling. God, he's gotta tell him what happened. It doesn't feel right to confess in a text message, so Steve switches to video.

Steve still looks quite sick, although not more sick, even if he is quite hoarse and can't go much louder than a whisper. He does look completely miserable and guilty.]

Clayton. Clayton I fucked up. [He scrubs a hand up over his face and into his hair.] Rydia came with me, but she got cold and wanted to go back. I shouldn't have let her go alone, or I should've gone with her, but she insisted— [Small coughing fit.] —She's indoors, she's—she's fine, for certain values of 'fine'. She got lost, turned around, somehow ended up in the funeral home of all— [Cough cough.] —of all places, but she's hysterical, she's saying something about how the place doesn't want her there and she had to handcuff herself to the toilet so she wouldn't go outside. Now she's stuck there, I gotta go get her, Clayton, I gotta—

[He fumbles the tablet slightly and puts his head in his hand, eyes squeezing shut, overcome by a bout of nausea and dizziness. When it passes after a number of seconds, he stays that way, weighted down by worry and guilt.]

This is my fault. I fucked up. I let her down, she could've died—

[In a burst of frustration and anger, Steve lifts his head and swings his fist at the wall, hitting it with a loud THUD.]

Edited 2015-11-25 00:10 (UTC)

[What was boiling frustration just a few minutes ago rapidly transitions to shock, like a rock dropping in the pit of his stomach, followed by the gut-wrenching pain of dread and empathetic misery. All anger leaves him almost immediately. Need to keep a level head. Need to calm Steve down. He's made a mistake--need to fix it. He's going to fix it. No one has to die, not today, not if he can help it.]

[He switches to video, too, and the darkness of the cramped sports shed helps keep his face looking more or less level, to hide the panic clawing at his heart.]

Steve, you need t' listen to me. [His voice is level, too, quiet and hushed, partially out of maintaining a professional demeanor and partially to keep from alarming the rest of the party. There's been enough shit going around tonight to worry about.] Yer gonna keep in touch with her an' make sure she stays calm. I'm leavin' the group tomorrow mornin', first thing, an' headed towards the funeral home. I know where it is, I know what Rydia's goin' through. I been there.

[Well...not exactly. He woke up in the funeral home and knows it's somewhere along the western wall, just not in relationship to the school or really anything else. Apparently it's within a day's walk from the hot water house, though. This must be good news. He can do this.]

I'll stop by tomorrow t' get some rations, then soon as it's safe, I'll go on by myself. Yer stayin' put an' gettin' yer rest. You hear me, Steve?

Good to know. Thanks for the follow-up.

You might consider heading to a house that's west of the school, though. There's hot water available. That might help with your recovery. I can draw you a map, if you need it.

[Steve chuckle-coughs. Hot shower house, you don't say. Well, it's the thought that counts, right? (It really does. Kain's a nice guy, and he appreciates it a lot.)]

Thanks, Kain, but we were there last night! And will be there tonight again. And probably there for the foreseeable future until this illness goes away. Hot water and a doctor, or, we'll have a doctor again when he comes back from fetching us some more grub.

[Hot water and a-]

Wait. Is the doctor Clayton Epps? He didn't go alone, did he?

[Yeah, that little tidbit may have just derailed the rest of what Steve said.]

Yes, Dr. Epps, and no, he's with at least three other people. Why?

He suffered a concussion barely a week ago. He'd better not be heading off on supply runs on his own.

[If Clayton does go off on his own, Kunsel's going to need to have words with him.]

[network] @CaptSteveRogers; text; Day 58; Two Very Important Posts [open]

afternoon | text | @prettypinkflowers

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night - text - @claytonator

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