WEEK 1

[strangerpeople]

WEEK 1

[Well, it seems that you are all here now. Stuck, with a power, and with two individuals who are...very different from one another, inside an old, decrepit home. There's not much to do now than to stew, look for food, and figure out what the hell you're going to do to pass the time - if not get out of this place entirely.

There has to be a way, right? And what the heck happened to the fifteenth name on the list that was handed out? Is there someone else here? If so, who are they? Do they even exist?

So many questions to answer-and, it seems, more than enough time to try to figure them out, hopefully.


There are 15 (?) strangers in this place.]

Comments

[yonosoymaria]

I'm not certain our jailer did either. Unless someone's lying about their name and Tom Swift's been here waiting on his electric rifle, or someone else is waiting on a holy relic to scare off the bats....

[He says that almost archly, almost casually, and walks a bit closer to Jun. It's easier to speak in a tone matching that which probably wasn't meant to be heard, that way, and it's easy enough to make it seem like he's just trying to get a better look at everyone gathered around. Merciful God, he's hoping he didn't hear that first bit right.]

Were you - before here, when did you last eat?

[Even as he maintains a carefully neutral expression, Eric's voice is a low, urgent whisper. He's concerned, but hopefully not presumptuous levels of paternal, or worse paternalistic. It'd explain the way the boy seemed next door to dead on his feet almost too easily. Battle fatigue and the fog of days without food could look the same, couldn't they?]

cw: body fluids mention

[icanhearscreams]

'Holy' relics aren't anything but cheap junk that's fooled people, anyway.

[His body tightens a little and he glares at the guy, but it's tired. There's not enough heat in it to really be anything even slightly approaching menacing.]

[... At least the guy's not trying to push him around yet. His lips press into a thin line, and at this distance his slightly matted hair is a bit more visible. He also doesn't... smell the best. He's tried, but there's not much in the way of cleaning. He smells slightly of sweat and other... bodily fluids, some of which are supposed to be out of the body and some that aren't.]

... About forty eight hours. Came in right near the deadline, I think.

[And then he wheezes out an amused huff.]

Huh. 'Dead'line.

CW above continues, this time with added WWI-that-nobody-thought-over

[yonosoymaria]

You may yet have cause to think me a hypocrite for agreeing with you, but... far too many are "cheap junk" that only ki - gets people killed.

[Eric went very, very still for a moment, after hearing all of that. That phrasing - cheap junk that's fooled people - seven hells, as if his mind wasn't already turning towards John - the damned whip had fooled them both. "Why'd they give us this piece of junk?! Why'd you turn it on for me?!"

He hadn't noticed before, but... Jun smells like a battlefield. Blood, sweat, the sewer-reek of - it's nowhere near overwhelming, but it is familiar. It had been unavoidable, the path from that factory near Bremen to Versailles had sent him and John too near the Western Front for his own country's refusal to participate in the war to matter. They'd seen what it was that they were both dodging. They'd had to cross it.

But it is only a moment. The memories are a rush of thoughts, and he shakes his head as though he's trying to scare off an insect.]

Forgive me, maintaining the conversation others can hear seems more discreet. If you wished everyone to know that you'd have said so by now.

[God knows he had his pride when he was so young.]

And... it is not much, won't taste like much, but the hollyhocks, the bell-shaped flowers on the tall stems - you can eat the petals. I'm not sure of the leaves.

[icanhearscreams]

[He's quiet for another moment, before breathing out slowly. It's... better than nothing. If he could get his hands on a biology book... hollyhocks aren't a plant he knows. He's already dead anyway though... so he might as well try.]

... Lecarde, right?

[yonosoymaria]

Yes. And you're - Ushiro, correct?

[Circumstances being what they are, he's going to assume that this is a boy who had even less of a childhood than he did, and address him as he would a younger colleague.]

[icanhearscreams]

[He nods. At least this guy paid attention.]

It’s... difficult to explain what happened.

[yonosoymaria]

Given what you have explained, I can imagine it must have been quite an ordeal.

[And again, he's trying not to sound patronizing. The phrasing is stilted, but he's entirely sincere, entirely serious.]

And I won't ask you to explain in front of everyone, but...

[icanhearscreams]

[He just shrugs. There's... too much involved, and he still doesn't trust people here. They're from other worlds... but it's been long enough that a world hasn't exploded. So this isn't a battle...]

Don't know if you'd understand, but... mm.

[yonosoymaria]

[There is a very fragile balance here. Too much pressure, and he'll establish himself as someone who can't be trusted. Too little, and the boy may turn down a path like he did so close to that age. This is delicate work... but he can't pause long enough to properly consider every angle, either.]

I can say that I will try to. It may be something far from my own experiences, but we are humans, aren't we? We adapt, we manage to relate to each other somehow.

[icanhearscreams]

[He shrugs a little and stares off into the distance.]

I guess. Probably not enemies right now.

[It doesn't look like there's a battle, so...]

[yonosoymaria]

Hopefully for the future, too.

[There's no sense in hiding it, not really, not when he was only two years older when...]

I was, once, dragged out of my own place in time. I... ultimately failed in the task I was handed there, and I still don't know who it was that brought me home. You could say I still feel like I should try to do what was done for me.

[icanhearscreams]

[He just laughs weakly and steps back.]

It's not like that.

[He's not bothering being quiet now.]

... Like I said. Hard to explain. Not here. Not now. ... Not that people would understand, anyway.

[yonosoymaria]

[Damn, perhaps he did overstep. But he nods.]

Again, I won't press you. But if we find food, you will eat something, won't you?

[It might be a bit of a non sequitur, but better to let the people around think they were merely talking of that in such low voices... and, frankly, he is concerned.]

[icanhearscreams]

... If we find anything.

[It might be a waste, though.]

[yonosoymaria]

Well, at the very least, there are also sunflowers. I haven't looked close enough to see if the seedheads are near ripe, but if this continues any longer....

[icanhearscreams]

We might have to scavenge, yes... though hopefully we can find something else before then.

It's physically possible to survive eating once a week I think, but I don't know for how long.

[yonosoymaria]

[There is what might be a telling pause before this answer.]

I never found out myself. So long as there's a source of water, though, one week at a time is survivable. Possibly up to nine days, but I'd rather not put that to the test.