hadriel_logs | I think I’ve been praying the lights won't go out

[Once Mike and Emily found their way out of the coliseum, they'd headed straight for the house. Lucky Mike knew where it was, or else Hadriel would've had to deal with Emily demanding directions and lodging and all manner of other things.

At the house, Chris helped her get the bite wound cleaned up, and she'd rooted around for one of Sam's spare shirts. (She'd wound up with a green top with three-quarter sleeves. The fabric is department store quality at best, but it's not like Emily can be choosy right now.)

Now that she's changed and at a significantly reduced risk of infection, Emily heads out into the kitchen to make herself some coffee or tea, whichever she finds first.

And lo, someone else already beat her to the room.]

Should I leave the kitchen before you start threatening to slit my throat?

[Emily is aware that Ashley doesn't know what she's referencing. Chris updated her on all of that earlier. But that's not going to stop Emily from bringing it up, from letting Ashley know what she almost contributed to, and from berating her for it. Hell, Ashley's ignorance of it makes Emily even angrier, because she's pulling this sweet and innocent act that is such a goddamn lie. Ashley's as capable of being a bitch as the rest of them, and Emily won't let her forget it.]

Emily? [ The sharp bite to the other girl's voice doesn't register immediately, and when it does, it's not at the forefront of her mind. It's certainly more acidic than she expects, but it's easily written off as Emily just being Emily, and dealing with a stressful situation.

It's obvious the other girl just arrived, and when she spots the neck wound, her expression immediately turns to one of genuine worry. ] Oh gosh, are you ok?

[Sarcastic doesn't even begin to describe the smile Emily gives Ashley as she walks further into the room. She sees Ashley's gaze drift down to her neck, watches how her face changes.

She wants to slap this moron all over again because fuck you, that's not what you said in the basement.

But one thing gat a time.]

Funny how that's not what you said to me before I got here. [Yes, she's going to drag this out.

She stops far enough away from Ashley that the idiot won't feel her personal space breached quite yet. Her 'smile' turns into a sneer.]

You wanna know what happened? How I got this? [She motions to her shoulder with her head, careful not to twist her neck so much that she ends up tugging on the bite. It doesn't hurt much anymore, but she'd rather not deal with any pain right now. Unless it comes from slapping Ashley. That would be worth it.]

[ Ashley recognizes the animosity as Emily steps closer, and confusion couples with her worry. Sure, they've never been the best of friends, and there's certainly been a few fights, but without all the information, Ash just feels lost. ]

I... Well, if you want to talk about it. [ Let's be real, Em is a little predatory right now. She takes a quick glance behind her, and then her gaze returns to her friend. ] I could make us some tea, or coffee, and then we can talk?

[It doesn't matter that things were different in the basement, that they're totally different here. People deserve to know the truth, right? And Emily's never been shy about dishing it out when nobody else wants to.

She widens her eyes in a mockery of fear.] A wendigo bit me, Ash. God, what am I gonna do? [She is not at all hiding the sarcasm in her voice, all affected and simpering until she narrows her eyes again. Then it's cold again, sharp, and yes, predatory.] Forget coffee. What would you do if a fucking wendigo took a bite out of your shoulder? What would you want us to do?

I-I don't know, Emily! [ Between feeling cornered, and the growing confusion of the situation, Ash shrugs, shaking her head. She knows enough about the wendigo to know that it's terrifying, and that you don't move when it's around, but other than that...? ]

I haven't even seen a wendigo, Em. I'm... I'm not... I'm from some other time, I guess, or whatever. [ She's totally at a loss here, and all she wants to do is leave. Or for Chris to come in. Or something, anything to remove the sudden tension from the situation. ]

Don't worry, sweetie. Chris brought me up to speed on all of that, so I figured it's fair to return the favor, that's all.

[Emily takes one step closer, placing her hands on her hips.] See, you know how you were all worried about this bite just now? That's what a normal, rational fucking person will say to someone who's been injured. But you--

[She lets her hands fall to her sides, making fists with them as her voice goes colder.] You wanted to fucking throw me out there to get eaten. You told Mike and Chris and Sam that flamethrower guy had said wendigo bites were infectious, which by the way is a total fucking lie, you bitch. You wanted to kill me because you were so -- fucking -- scared. Poor you!

[ Ash raises her hands up, just as much a shield as they are a sign of surrender. She can't imagine throwing her friend under the bus like that to save her own skin, but she knows fear has a habit of ruling her actions. The events at Blackwood prove she's not the best under pressure, and who knows what the stress of the later hours would do to her. ]

I... I'm... [ But she wouldn't have lied to her friends, would she? Her eyes fill with tears, but she makes an effort to hold them back. Is there even anything she can say to make it better? ]

I'm so sorry, Em. [ It comes out breathless, hurt, and scared. ] I don't know why I... O-Or even what would make me...?

I am so, so sorry, Emily.

[Good. Regret it. Cry.] Being sorry is the least you could do, you fucking bitch. How do you think it felt having Mike hold a fucking gun right in front of my face? All because you were scared! Never mind I got chased through the mines by one of those things and found Beth's head and fell off a goddamn tower—

[And lost track of Matt.

But she leaves that out. Given time (a lot of time), Emily will forgive Ashley for this. They've been friends for too long for her to just give up like that. But in this moment, not even the thought that tells Emily she's being a hypocrite is enough to put out the anger burning in her. As malicious and cruel as the prank had been, she'd never meant for Beth and Hannah to go running out into the woods and getting themselves killed or worse. Had she known that would happen, she would've called it off.

But Ashley knew that Emily would die if she was forced to leave the basement. And she knew that getting shot point blank would most likely kill Emily too.

That's why it's different. That's why Emily can be this way right now, self-righteous and enraged despite the blood on her hands.

But being forced apart from Matt, and not knowing if he's even okay—that's personal. That's all Emily's to deal with and feel guilty over later.]

If I had become a wendigo after that, you can bet your skinny little ass I would've gone after you first.

[ It's the last line that hurts the most. It's not quite unlike being slapped across the face, but where that physical pain would fade, this kind doesn't: the heart doesn't heal as quickly, or even half as well.

Ash leans back as if hit, nose red as tears fall. She opens her mouth to say something, but a lump blocks her throat. She's a fish out of water, or is this more like drowning? There are no words she can say that will magically fix this, and so she says nothing. ]

[The thing is, Emily is used to fighting with Jess, who can give as good as she gets, even if what she says is the stupidest thing anyone could possibly come up with. Jess makes fight worth having, and made the worst of them worth the chaos they left in their wake.

But this is just sad.

To be fair, Emily was a little unclear. She wouldn't kill Ashley, but she would go and scare her. But if Ashley's going to take it that way -- if that's what it takes to make Ashley think twice before voting to send Emily to her death, then so be it.]

Grow some balls, Ash. How the fuck have you even lasted in this hellhole like this?

[Emily rolls her eyes. Pathetic.]

[Everything is awful right now, and there's no end in sight, of course, but some things never change - people still gotta eat. Those who haven't already eaten people are definitely taking a closer look at their food supplies these days, and a group this big needs frequent supply runs anyway. It's just smarter to not go out alone; everyone knows that. Nick doesn't typically find herself with an overabundance of hope, but the fact that Chris has already survived actual fucking wendigos makes him an obvious choice, and it also makes Nick feel slightly less nervous about being outside when there are monsters afoot.]

Hey. You ready?

[When Nick had suggested going on the supply run it didn't take much consideration for Chris to agree; it's dangerous outside, but with two partially transformed wendigo in the house already it's really no more of a risk. Considering how stressed and exhausted everyone is--he's pretty sure no one's getting much sleep--they need even more food than usual to make up for it as well, and since they'd had to completely get rid of everything with meat in it keeping enough food in stock has been more than a bit of a challenge.

Focusing on that problem is a great distraction from the much larger ones at hand, too.]

Yeah. Guess so.

[It's not enthusiastic, but without hesitation. Let's do this.]

So okay, plan is to stick together, and freeze if you see anything that even sort of looks like a wendigo.

[Pretty simple plan, just also one that sounds a lot easier than it is. But that's why he has Mike's second gun with him, hidden under his jacket; the wendigos will be mostly transformed but not completely, and therefore the weapon might possibly be useful even as just a distraction.]

[ Ash flinches, and drops her gaze to the floor. She feels like such a child, standing here crying while her friend—a word she uses in the loosest of terms at the moment—berates her. She wants out. She wants to go home. She wants the world to go back to normal, and for the last year of her life to be erased from history.

It takes her long moment to finally move position, to step past Emily and walk right out of the room. Because she can't handle this.

Maybe Emily is right, maybe she needs to grow some balls, and that somehow makes it all the more worse. What a coward she is. ]

Right. [She laughs quietly, one of those not-funny sounds you make when your choices are either laughing or screaming.] What could possibly go wrong?

[She should know better, really. She's seen enough horror movies to know that you never say that.]

Lead the way, [she says, with a sweeping wave of her hand.]

Hey, you're with a wendigo expert, okay? Nothing's going to go wrong.

[It's a completely unfounded statement, but a hopeful one. Yes, the chance is really high that they're going to run into trouble, but maybe they won't. Maybe.

He nods at the last comment, turning to open the door to outside. Okay. Just a quick run to the stores, which thankfully aren't that far, then they'll come right back.]

Yeah. Let's go.

[He leads the way out, cautious and slow at first until he's sure there's nothing lurking right outside the house, then picking up the pace a bit; he's just not that fast in general though, especially with his bad knee, which is for the best anyway. They need to spot wendigos before wendigos spot them.]

Just... Keep an eye out.

[He adds, quietly, back toward Nick.]

Chris the Wendigo Expert. That's pretty catchy - you should get business cards made or something.

[She flashes him a grim smile, easily keeping pace with his stride.]

Go hand 'em out at conventions and shit. You think they have conventions for that sort of thing? Workshops on how to kill monsters, how to survive in the woods with nothing but a pocketknife and a lighter?

[Maybe they'll be lucky, but Nick isn't holding her breath. She knows the shade her own luck tends to take.]

I so need business cards.

[He could put a little clip-art picture of a stereotypical nerd standing on top of a pile of dead monsters on them. It'd be super swag.]

What, you mean other than this place? Pretty sure we're at the convention right now.

[Back home he really hopes there aren't actually enough monsters to warrant more than the one monster hunter they'd met. Here, though, it's basically a whole bunch of people who are like yeah, screw monsters, so he's pretty sure this is about as close to a monster-killer convention he'll ever get.]

If this is what conventions are like, I'm pretty glad I never had a reason to go to one before. This place sucks.

[Understatement of the year, here. On the other hand, Nick knows that there are more monsters back home than she ever thought possible. Nightbane look human enough, until they don't. She could have been surrounded by others like her for years, maybe her entire life, and never had a clue.]

Hey, conventions aren't all bad, you've just gotta go to cool ones.

[Video games are cool. Monster hunting is not.]

But yeah, no argument on this place. Every time it's like, livable something new goes wrong.

[It feels like they'd only just started recovering from being buried alive before all of this happened, and that just makes it all more difficult. This would've been hard enough to deal with after what happened at home, but with the last event on top of it...

But he doesn't want to think too much about how awful this is; he'd rather go back to making pointless smalltalk instead, so he's about to do so when there's a distant, familiar high-pitched shrieking and he freezes in place.]

[The sound isn't familiar to Nick, but it stops her in her tracks all the same, wide-eyed and hyper-alert to their surroundings, skin crawling, a heavy weight of dread settling in her stomach. The fact that Chris freezes up too gives her a pretty good idea that she knows exactly what she's heard. Still, she asks, voice coming out a frantic whisper:]

What. The fuck. Was that?

Wendigo.

[He responds back instantly, voice low and quiet, still unmoving, but it's on instinct more than for any practical reason. He knows the sound well enough to know the wendigo isn't close or it would've been a lot louder, but he can't stand that noise; he's not sure he would ever forget it, even if he hadn't heard it again after that one night on the mountain.]

It's not... Not close. We can keep going.

[It's impossible to tell which direction the sound came from, so they might be moving closer, but the risk is one they'd been expecting when they set out on this scavenging trip to begin with so there's no reason yet to turn back.]

Fuck.

[She knew it before he said it, but saying it makes it real, and that's infinitely more terrifying than just the possibility of wendigos.]

OK, I vote we do this fast.

Yeah. Yeah, lets go.

[He starts forward again, glancing around, even more tense than before. Fortunately the stores are close by to the houses, and they're quickly coming into sight; of course, there's an issue he only just realizes as he sees the darkened buildings, and he glances toward Nick.]

Um, we've gotta be like, really careful going into the stores. They're dark.

[And wendigos are nocturnal naturally, and doubtlessly would be hiding from the artificial sun in the cave.]

[It's all over.

Or as much as it can be, anyway; Rage has killed the remaining wendigos that weren't already taken out by people here, ending the threat for the moment. Hope should begin to bring people back and they'll be okay, at least as much as they can be after going through what they went through.

Chris himself had again survived, albeit with some injuries, and so had Ashley and Mike. But Sam had disappeared halfway through everything and hasn't returned, so he assumes whatever happened to Mike a few months ago happened to her; and then there's Josh and Emily...

There had been a cure, this time, and they still hadn't managed to save them. Either of them. If it weren't for that Hope brings people back they would just be gone, and even though he does it doesn't change that they still both died. Chris had wanted so badly to try to save them, and he'd tried to do so, but...

They had waited too long, or the cure just wasn't feasibly possible at all by the time it had been announced, or something else that they'd decided on or had happened had been the wrong choice and had ultimately led them to fail. But they should've never been in this position in the first place, any of them; wendigos shouldn't exist, they shouldn't exist here, there shouldn't have been human in their food supply, none of this should've happened. Haven't they all been through enough?

Chris isn't entirely sure why he'd gone into the kitchen--possibly to make tea or something--but instead he's just suddenly, irrationally angry at one of the stupid, weird-looking alien chairs. He grabs it by the back of it and attempts to dramatically throw it to the floor, but its center of gravity is lower than expected and so it just kind of tips over sadly, falling to the ground with a small and unsatisfying thunk.

So he kicks it too, for good measure, but that only hurts his foot and the chair seems utterly unaffected. Still, the fit of anger goes as quickly as it had come and he just sits down on the floor, back against one of the table legs, taking a moment to try to get a grip.

They're going to come back. Everyone is going to be okay, at least physically, and they're all going to get past this. They're all going to be okay.

He'd believed that, when he told Ashley something similar just after they'd gotten here, but now he's not so sure he still does.]

Edited 2016-02-28 04:09 (UTC)

I think I’ve been praying the lights won't go out

2/10: closed to Ashley

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22ndish; for chris.

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3/01ish | OPEN