No kidding, but he does have vague plans to "investigate" Cat in his own way. Part scientific, part general curiosity. (Curiosity killed the... Tony?)
teapotshark Member
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- teapotshark 11 yrs ago
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Pre-Guildfall, 2008. Communication is what makes a lasting roleplay.
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Sam turned the doorknob slowly and shifted into the room almost on her toes. She shot quick glances to all four corners of the rooms and in the most obvious nooks before she let her niece into the room. The kid waltzed in without a damn to give about the noise she made. She huffed all the way from the door to the window, peered out, then spun back around. With a scowl, Sam left the door an inch or so open and began to search the room for useful items.
"This is a waste of time," Darcy made sure to note as soon as possible. She added a whine to her tone, just to give it that extra shrillness. In truth she wanted to leave, and not just this building but the entire campus, and put it behind them. She didn't like so many strangers and guns. "They already checked all the buildings."
Sam ignored her, she tried explaining the situation before the meeting, but she was beginning to think Darcy understood and fancied making trouble just to put her aunt off helping out. Sam started pulling out all the drawers and opening cabinets. The longer she searched, the more evident it became nothing of note would be found in the room. It was merely a music classroom, after all. Though she expected as much, disappointment still etched its way onto her features; she needed to find something more threatening than a tire iron, and the desperation was getting stronger.
"Aunt Sam," Darcy groaned. "We're going to be here all day." She made her way over to a bookcase and ran her fingertip across the bindings.
"Not if you shut up and help." Sam signalled for her niece to follow and marched back into the hallway. If she kept this pace, she could see them clearing the first floor in no time at all. Maybe she'd set up camp on the top floor, provided the place could be secured easy enough. Tightening her grip on the tire iron, until the pads of her hand grew sore, she twisted the knob on the next door down.
"This is a waste of time," Darcy made sure to note as soon as possible. She added a whine to her tone, just to give it that extra shrillness. In truth she wanted to leave, and not just this building but the entire campus, and put it behind them. She didn't like so many strangers and guns. "They already checked all the buildings."
Sam ignored her, she tried explaining the situation before the meeting, but she was beginning to think Darcy understood and fancied making trouble just to put her aunt off helping out. Sam started pulling out all the drawers and opening cabinets. The longer she searched, the more evident it became nothing of note would be found in the room. It was merely a music classroom, after all. Though she expected as much, disappointment still etched its way onto her features; she needed to find something more threatening than a tire iron, and the desperation was getting stronger.
"Aunt Sam," Darcy groaned. "We're going to be here all day." She made her way over to a bookcase and ran her fingertip across the bindings.
"Not if you shut up and help." Sam signalled for her niece to follow and marched back into the hallway. If she kept this pace, she could see them clearing the first floor in no time at all. Maybe she'd set up camp on the top floor, provided the place could be secured easy enough. Tightening her grip on the tire iron, until the pads of her hand grew sore, she twisted the knob on the next door down.
Haha, he's so cute. And thoroughly fascinated by Cat.
Take your time and rest up.
Standing aside of the growing team of supply runners, Sam watched the young man who had introduced himself as "Ray Ray" approach. A stupid name, if ever she heard one. She placed her free arm around her niece's shoulders, ignoring the voice in her head telling her how obvious she was being. "Looks like," she replied with a grunt. Avoiding his eyes, she surveyed the rest of the people exiting the Halliwell building. "Just us then." She rolled her shoulders and turned the tire iron over in her hand. "Let's get going."
Sam made for the nearest building to Halliwell, and Darcy followed. She figured it'd be easiest to start from the Halliwell building and work her way out. The signs on the lawn claimed it used to house the classes for business, art and music. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to merge business with the arts must have been real stupid. Still, she couldn't help thinking that maybe the place held something for her. If not something to use as a weapon, at least there might be instruments.
The door opened without trouble and lead them into a corridor so wide Sam hesitated to give it that label. Shoe marks marred the floor in odd places, beneath discarded books and backpacks. Sam pulled one up and emptied it into her hands; a book of sheet music and some note paper fell out. She set them carefully on the floor to avoid making too much noise and swung the backpack onto her shoulders. Tightening the straps, she did the same for Darcy.
"See anything useful, throw it in," she told the kid in a hushed tone. "See anything dead and walking, let us deal with it." She propped the doors open with a couple of the heaviest books she could see and walked farther into the corridor. Doors to classrooms lined both sides. Sam turned to Ray. "How 'bout you take one side and we take the other?"
Sam made for the nearest building to Halliwell, and Darcy followed. She figured it'd be easiest to start from the Halliwell building and work her way out. The signs on the lawn claimed it used to house the classes for business, art and music. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to merge business with the arts must have been real stupid. Still, she couldn't help thinking that maybe the place held something for her. If not something to use as a weapon, at least there might be instruments.
The door opened without trouble and lead them into a corridor so wide Sam hesitated to give it that label. Shoe marks marred the floor in odd places, beneath discarded books and backpacks. Sam pulled one up and emptied it into her hands; a book of sheet music and some note paper fell out. She set them carefully on the floor to avoid making too much noise and swung the backpack onto her shoulders. Tightening the straps, she did the same for Darcy.
"See anything useful, throw it in," she told the kid in a hushed tone. "See anything dead and walking, let us deal with it." She propped the doors open with a couple of the heaviest books she could see and walked farther into the corridor. Doors to classrooms lined both sides. Sam turned to Ray. "How 'bout you take one side and we take the other?"
Chris paced from one side of her room to the other.
She still held her hand in some unnatural way that left him concerned, but every attempt Tony made at talking to her about it had been met with a stern look. She did that thing where her jaw clenched. There would be no discussing it any further. She had not stopped pacing since they returned to their room. Her uninjured hand gripped at her waist, itching to hold on to the baton that lay on the bed beside Tony. He confiscated her weapons with a promise to return them once Mercy came downstairs.
A response to Mercy's question had been hard to pull out of Chris. She didn't want to admit how scared she had been, nor how rash. It was Tony who spoke first, explaining that Cat merely wanted to hold him for warmth and perhaps didn't understand normal social conventions. He spoke about that maniac as if he were fascinating. Chris frowned for the duration of Tony's explanation, of course. When she eventually spoke, she simply told Mercy what she thought in the moment, that Cat had killed Tony, and her instincts took over.
Letting Mercy go up to the attic alone took almost all the self-control Chris possessed. She said nothing since having her hand examined and treated with some kind of splint made from a broken stick. She bit her tongue to keep herself from uttering a single word. Knowing most of the other survivors had already left for a fuel run made it all the worse. But a single look from Tony informed her to do nothing.
So she paced.
"No, it's not been too long," Tony said when he saw her open her mouth to ask the question. She glared at him and turned around. "You ought to sit down. You're wasting energy walking up and down like that." Only severe logic seemed to get through to her; she sat on the edge of her bed. Tony straightened, pride tipping his chin up. "If we're not leaving, then we need to decide what to do next. The others will bring back fuel, so I'm assuming they don't mean to stay here forever. Or, at least, until we are forced to leave."
Chris tapped her chin with her thumb. "We're still leaving."
"But it's safe here, Chris. We have food, water, and I think we can trust some of these people." She looked at him as if a second head sprouted from his shoulders. "You know it's true. Mercy and her friend are good people. We have a fence, too, it could certainly do with a bit of a fix-up, but you can tend to that. How do you suppose we are going to survive away from here?"
She groaned and rubbed at her temples. He could convince her of anything, she swore sometimes. But she didn't want to believe him, no matter how much sense it made. She didn't feel as safe as he did here, it set her nerves off in all sorts of ways. She stood up. "I'm going for a walk. Need some air." Chris marched from the room too soon for him to say another word, barely keeping herself from running until she was outside.
She still held her hand in some unnatural way that left him concerned, but every attempt Tony made at talking to her about it had been met with a stern look. She did that thing where her jaw clenched. There would be no discussing it any further. She had not stopped pacing since they returned to their room. Her uninjured hand gripped at her waist, itching to hold on to the baton that lay on the bed beside Tony. He confiscated her weapons with a promise to return them once Mercy came downstairs.
A response to Mercy's question had been hard to pull out of Chris. She didn't want to admit how scared she had been, nor how rash. It was Tony who spoke first, explaining that Cat merely wanted to hold him for warmth and perhaps didn't understand normal social conventions. He spoke about that maniac as if he were fascinating. Chris frowned for the duration of Tony's explanation, of course. When she eventually spoke, she simply told Mercy what she thought in the moment, that Cat had killed Tony, and her instincts took over.
Letting Mercy go up to the attic alone took almost all the self-control Chris possessed. She said nothing since having her hand examined and treated with some kind of splint made from a broken stick. She bit her tongue to keep herself from uttering a single word. Knowing most of the other survivors had already left for a fuel run made it all the worse. But a single look from Tony informed her to do nothing.
So she paced.
"No, it's not been too long," Tony said when he saw her open her mouth to ask the question. She glared at him and turned around. "You ought to sit down. You're wasting energy walking up and down like that." Only severe logic seemed to get through to her; she sat on the edge of her bed. Tony straightened, pride tipping his chin up. "If we're not leaving, then we need to decide what to do next. The others will bring back fuel, so I'm assuming they don't mean to stay here forever. Or, at least, until we are forced to leave."
Chris tapped her chin with her thumb. "We're still leaving."
"But it's safe here, Chris. We have food, water, and I think we can trust some of these people." She looked at him as if a second head sprouted from his shoulders. "You know it's true. Mercy and her friend are good people. We have a fence, too, it could certainly do with a bit of a fix-up, but you can tend to that. How do you suppose we are going to survive away from here?"
She groaned and rubbed at her temples. He could convince her of anything, she swore sometimes. But she didn't want to believe him, no matter how much sense it made. She didn't feel as safe as he did here, it set her nerves off in all sorts of ways. She stood up. "I'm going for a walk. Need some air." Chris marched from the room too soon for him to say another word, barely keeping herself from running until she was outside.
Sam's going to head towards the Bass Building, whether or not Marcus follows, if that helps. I can improvise if need be.
Glad to be back. And congrats on being able to handle so much work, @FaithsRose. That's a tough place to be.
I'll get a post up asap.
I'll get a post up asap.
As soon as the first few left, Sam grabbed her niece by the hand and bolted from the conference room. When they made it a clear distance from the Halliwell building, only then did she let go. Of course she received a boatload of back-talk from the kid. Sam ignored it, focusing instead on the group gaining number by the trucks. Her own truck, a red beat-up thing, was parked somewhere on Lewis Street. She'd keep it and its half tank of gas out of unfamiliar hands so long as she could.
"Are you listening to me?" Darcy whined.
Sam kept her eyes on the doors of the administration hall. It seemed a few others had kids following them around; she wondered if that meant they were more trustworthy, or less. "Yeah, yeah. Look squirt, you still got that knife?" From her back pocket, Darcy pulled the penknife. She could tug out the blade by herself now, and when she did, she waved it around like a flag. "Easy! It's not a damn toy."
"I know that." Darcy huffed, folded the knife inside the handle and stuffed it in her pocket. "Sam? If you're going to look around, where am I going to go?"
She hadn't thought that far ahead. Neither of the options currently bouncing around her head appealed that much. Sam and Darcy had been by one another's side since the start of this mess. Sam's heart did crazy things if her niece stood more than an arm's reach away. They'd just have to take their chances together. "You're coming with me. And you're gonna stay right next to me the whole time, all right?"
Darcy's face contorted in a frown, albeit not the same insufferable look Sam was used to getting. "Okay."
They headed back to the truck to retrieve the tire iron and tools kept hidden under the passenger seat. They weren't much in the way of weapons, but they'd been useful so far. With her tool belt clipped tight around her waist, half obscured by the tied sleeves of her overalls, Sam marched back towards the Halliwell building, niece in tow, to find the rest of the sweep volunteers.
"Are you listening to me?" Darcy whined.
Sam kept her eyes on the doors of the administration hall. It seemed a few others had kids following them around; she wondered if that meant they were more trustworthy, or less. "Yeah, yeah. Look squirt, you still got that knife?" From her back pocket, Darcy pulled the penknife. She could tug out the blade by herself now, and when she did, she waved it around like a flag. "Easy! It's not a damn toy."
"I know that." Darcy huffed, folded the knife inside the handle and stuffed it in her pocket. "Sam? If you're going to look around, where am I going to go?"
She hadn't thought that far ahead. Neither of the options currently bouncing around her head appealed that much. Sam and Darcy had been by one another's side since the start of this mess. Sam's heart did crazy things if her niece stood more than an arm's reach away. They'd just have to take their chances together. "You're coming with me. And you're gonna stay right next to me the whole time, all right?"
Darcy's face contorted in a frown, albeit not the same insufferable look Sam was used to getting. "Okay."
They headed back to the truck to retrieve the tire iron and tools kept hidden under the passenger seat. They weren't much in the way of weapons, but they'd been useful so far. With her tool belt clipped tight around her waist, half obscured by the tied sleeves of her overalls, Sam marched back towards the Halliwell building, niece in tow, to find the rest of the sweep volunteers.
Sam squeezed her upper arm as someone else picked up the topic of security. She knew only a few names, uninterested in learning them as of yet, and this man's name alluded her. She nodded along to his words, stopping herself when it became apparent, and turned her body slightly to face his.
The battle of the day before offered little time to take inventory of the university's resources. A more careful sweep of the campus gave her the chance to collect materials, and take stock of the damage done to the buildings during the last two weeks. They could pool the medicines at the same time. She didn't need to be a doctor to know what could be useful.
She stepped back to get a better look at the whole room as they deliberated. Some four-eyes set off with the same old about security -- Sam could have sworn she already said that -- but his comment about dogs at least told her not to write him off straight away. The latecomers seized her attention, though. Darcy's too, by the way she straightened and adjusted her glasses.
The way they strode in with their guns and a damn sword, Sam didn't like it. Sure, it made sense to be cautious. Still, they were too much of an obvious choice to take control.
At least, she thought, the dude with the beard seemed to get it. A suggestion or two more passed around the room before the guy from the start spoke again. The conversation sped up.
Sam unfolded her arms and waved a hand. "I like that idea. Split up, get a bunch of stuff done at once. Recon versus sweep. I'll stay, clear the place out properly." She turned to the soldier. "But there's no way I'm gonna herd myself and these people into one big place like cattle to be guarded by some jumped up military guys I don't know or trust." She enunciated her words with a few waves of her hands and shifted to stand taller and closer to her niece. Her tone softened, albeit not by much. "I'm all for gathering resources and whatever, you just can't go rounding people up. Especially if you're wearing a uniform and carrying guns like that. You ever heard of pack mentality? There's no chance of civilised anything if they start a rebellion 'cause they think they're being controlled, and this lot are on one hell of an edge."
Even in the end of days, people liked their freedom. If it came down to personal choice, Sam would much rather take Darcy, grab a gun and hole up some place on their own. Could be any number of unsavoury people taking refuge on campus, and in this room itself. Sam didn't have to see the minute details to tell some of the attendees had their own agendas. Who wouldn't? Only an idiot walks into an event like this one thinking he can save everybody.
"One of you docs stay back too, start looking after people. M.D. or no, they'll be less likely to go all trigger happy that way."
The battle of the day before offered little time to take inventory of the university's resources. A more careful sweep of the campus gave her the chance to collect materials, and take stock of the damage done to the buildings during the last two weeks. They could pool the medicines at the same time. She didn't need to be a doctor to know what could be useful.
She stepped back to get a better look at the whole room as they deliberated. Some four-eyes set off with the same old about security -- Sam could have sworn she already said that -- but his comment about dogs at least told her not to write him off straight away. The latecomers seized her attention, though. Darcy's too, by the way she straightened and adjusted her glasses.
The way they strode in with their guns and a damn sword, Sam didn't like it. Sure, it made sense to be cautious. Still, they were too much of an obvious choice to take control.
At least, she thought, the dude with the beard seemed to get it. A suggestion or two more passed around the room before the guy from the start spoke again. The conversation sped up.
Sam unfolded her arms and waved a hand. "I like that idea. Split up, get a bunch of stuff done at once. Recon versus sweep. I'll stay, clear the place out properly." She turned to the soldier. "But there's no way I'm gonna herd myself and these people into one big place like cattle to be guarded by some jumped up military guys I don't know or trust." She enunciated her words with a few waves of her hands and shifted to stand taller and closer to her niece. Her tone softened, albeit not by much. "I'm all for gathering resources and whatever, you just can't go rounding people up. Especially if you're wearing a uniform and carrying guns like that. You ever heard of pack mentality? There's no chance of civilised anything if they start a rebellion 'cause they think they're being controlled, and this lot are on one hell of an edge."
Even in the end of days, people liked their freedom. If it came down to personal choice, Sam would much rather take Darcy, grab a gun and hole up some place on their own. Could be any number of unsavoury people taking refuge on campus, and in this room itself. Sam didn't have to see the minute details to tell some of the attendees had their own agendas. Who wouldn't? Only an idiot walks into an event like this one thinking he can save everybody.
"One of you docs stay back too, start looking after people. M.D. or no, they'll be less likely to go all trigger happy that way."
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