Glenda smothered her mouth much too late. Idiot! Now whoever-shot-whoever definitely knew that she was there, hiding behind a door like that'd make a blind bit of difference to a bullet. She was no gun expert, but she was pretty sure a couple inches of wood wasn't going to do anything much against a weapon that had a roar the likes of which she'd just heard.
Frozen like the rabbit, for a couple seconds, there was nothing but echoes. Okay maybe she was good. Maybe. Maybe she was good? If she just stayed still a little longerrrrrsomeone was calling out.
They weren't giving Glenda a double-barrel hello and that was something, but that was the kind of thing you'd do if you maybe weren't totally sure you'd heard somebody, but were pretty sure you had. Try and be all friendly-like to get them to drop their guard and then wham, dead.
Two people still alive, allegedly. Yeah alright.
"Zandah you there?"
Glenda called but moved at the same time, took a roll a good ways to the side, and waited for a bullet to hit the spot she'd vacated. Least then she'd know how hard she was sprinting out of there.
Change of plans. I do need a gun.
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MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
Up, back, and forward again.
It sounded simple, and it wasn't actually that complicated, but it did take Zandah a few moments to get the movement right. The rest of Evan's instructions were easier. Zandah was pretty good at not pointing the gun at anything, and he wasn't too worried about orders being barked, so he just gave a nod. He wasn't someone who always loved being told what to do, but when he was uncertain he did better with that than with vagueness. For something like this, so far from anything that passed for his sense of self-image (fragile as that was at the best of times), it was a blessing. He could do as he was instructed.
Zandah was so content to rely on this blessing that he just let Evan do the talking. It wasn't like it mattered a ton. They were just forestalling the inevitable, but the Nexu wouldn't be screaming, so that wasn't what was waiting outside. And while there was certainly a very real chance that some of the others would be stupid enough to take their instructions seriously—Zandah's already rather low opinion of humanity as a collective had declined considerably over the past eighteen months or so, especially when it came to facing disasters—he thought their heavy armament, apparent even from outside visual range thanks to the cacophony, would dissuade any aggression.
He briefly imagined someone gingerly rolling a grenade through the door anyways. It would make the same noise as a spinning quarter as it lazily curved around and then dropped over the lip of the pool and bounced off the tiles at the bottom, and then it would reduce them to a faint blood mist. It would be mercifully quick.
Someone had called to Zandah. He was expected to respond.
"Oh," he called back, but not loud enough at first. He always started quiet. As a kid he'd used to be able to be really loud, and he didn't quite know how he'd lost that. He tried hard to yell, and made it most of the way.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm here. We're shooting, uh, statues. Trying to. For practice. Evan's better at it."
He felt uneasy and uncomfortable, caught off-guard talking to someone who knew his name but whose voice he couldn't recognize at all. How had that happened?
Oh right. Evan had just introduced him.
It sounded simple, and it wasn't actually that complicated, but it did take Zandah a few moments to get the movement right. The rest of Evan's instructions were easier. Zandah was pretty good at not pointing the gun at anything, and he wasn't too worried about orders being barked, so he just gave a nod. He wasn't someone who always loved being told what to do, but when he was uncertain he did better with that than with vagueness. For something like this, so far from anything that passed for his sense of self-image (fragile as that was at the best of times), it was a blessing. He could do as he was instructed.
Zandah was so content to rely on this blessing that he just let Evan do the talking. It wasn't like it mattered a ton. They were just forestalling the inevitable, but the Nexu wouldn't be screaming, so that wasn't what was waiting outside. And while there was certainly a very real chance that some of the others would be stupid enough to take their instructions seriously—Zandah's already rather low opinion of humanity as a collective had declined considerably over the past eighteen months or so, especially when it came to facing disasters—he thought their heavy armament, apparent even from outside visual range thanks to the cacophony, would dissuade any aggression.
He briefly imagined someone gingerly rolling a grenade through the door anyways. It would make the same noise as a spinning quarter as it lazily curved around and then dropped over the lip of the pool and bounced off the tiles at the bottom, and then it would reduce them to a faint blood mist. It would be mercifully quick.
Someone had called to Zandah. He was expected to respond.
"Oh," he called back, but not loud enough at first. He always started quiet. As a kid he'd used to be able to be really loud, and he didn't quite know how he'd lost that. He tried hard to yell, and made it most of the way.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm here. We're shooting, uh, statues. Trying to. For practice. Evan's better at it."
He felt uneasy and uncomfortable, caught off-guard talking to someone who knew his name but whose voice he couldn't recognize at all. How had that happened?
Oh right. Evan had just introduced him.
Evan shot his compatriot a nervous smile, doing his best to try to sound encouraging.
"Well, Zandah's just getting started! I've uhh, had some practice." He called out, towards the half-closed door.
The voice was familiar. Back at the school, there had been more than a few students from the UK; fewer in the Environmental Studies program. Tutorials and lectures were usually a delightful mix of accents, and the unique kinds of folks drawn to the program made it easy to learn faces, if not names.
Still, it wasn't just from class. They'd run into each other before, another time when he had to scramble for a name. He'd caught a flash of black and purple hair heading to a table set up in a neglected city park cutting through a small crowd of hippies and street kids. She'd had a bag of food, wanted to help, and recognized him at a distance. When he'd asked where she'd gotten the food, the answer seemed to indicate it was probably stolen. That was endearing.
Fuck, what was her name? At the very least, he knew his own. Maybe that would help.
"Hey you! I think we've met. I'm Evan Keane. I am - was - Professor Donato's senior TA. I'm setting my gun down now."
Flipping the safety on, Evan set the rifle down by his side. Shooting Zandah a look, he motioned for him to do the same.
"You came to one of the food drives I was at with some of the other grad students. You like, probably stole some supplies for us and I thought it was pretty rad. I'm really sorry, I can't remember your name."
Exhaling into the palm of his hand, Evan noted how cold it had become. After slipping it into the fuzzy pocket of his parka, he continued.
"Look, I know you're scared. Shit's fucked. We're gonna fight it, though. First step is finding somewhere to hole up and starting a little fire. The cold is our first problem to deal with. I haven't really thought too far to step two just yet but I think it involves putting these guns to work on those monsters. I - I don't know really what he hell I'm doing otherwise but I promise it doesn't involve hurting anybody else! We're all in this together."
He shrugged emphatically, as if she was able to see through the door. That whole speech had taken him more than a bit of effort to get through, and he only now realized there were tears at the edges of his eyes. They dried pretty quick in the cold.
"That work for you?"
"Well, Zandah's just getting started! I've uhh, had some practice." He called out, towards the half-closed door.
The voice was familiar. Back at the school, there had been more than a few students from the UK; fewer in the Environmental Studies program. Tutorials and lectures were usually a delightful mix of accents, and the unique kinds of folks drawn to the program made it easy to learn faces, if not names.
Still, it wasn't just from class. They'd run into each other before, another time when he had to scramble for a name. He'd caught a flash of black and purple hair heading to a table set up in a neglected city park cutting through a small crowd of hippies and street kids. She'd had a bag of food, wanted to help, and recognized him at a distance. When he'd asked where she'd gotten the food, the answer seemed to indicate it was probably stolen. That was endearing.
Fuck, what was her name? At the very least, he knew his own. Maybe that would help.
"Hey you! I think we've met. I'm Evan Keane. I am - was - Professor Donato's senior TA. I'm setting my gun down now."
Flipping the safety on, Evan set the rifle down by his side. Shooting Zandah a look, he motioned for him to do the same.
"You came to one of the food drives I was at with some of the other grad students. You like, probably stole some supplies for us and I thought it was pretty rad. I'm really sorry, I can't remember your name."
Exhaling into the palm of his hand, Evan noted how cold it had become. After slipping it into the fuzzy pocket of his parka, he continued.
"Look, I know you're scared. Shit's fucked. We're gonna fight it, though. First step is finding somewhere to hole up and starting a little fire. The cold is our first problem to deal with. I haven't really thought too far to step two just yet but I think it involves putting these guns to work on those monsters. I - I don't know really what he hell I'm doing otherwise but I promise it doesn't involve hurting anybody else! We're all in this together."
He shrugged emphatically, as if she was able to see through the door. That whole speech had taken him more than a bit of effort to get through, and he only now realized there were tears at the edges of his eyes. They dried pretty quick in the cold.
"That work for you?"
SOTF: U
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
A gunshot didn't blast its way through the wall. Instead, Zandah's voice arrived. Glenda was seized with a little bit of paranoia that well okay allegedly that was Zandah, but what if Evan was just mimicking him, but then she swatted the paranoia. Come on, if she chased down every last rabbit down every last hole then she might as well curl up in a ball and cry all the way to wonderland.
She straightened up as Evan resumed and then continued talking. Evan, Evan. The name was familiar but the voice moreso. Oh! He was a TA. Had maybe TA'd her actually since he was Professor C's TA and jesus h christ Glenda was thinking about that again now. because one batch of murder wasn't enough there also had to be some kind of creature from outer space here to rip your cool teacher to pieceshahahahaFUCK.
Evan's voice faded back in at the tail end of something about stealing supplies and she remembered. Slightly older guy. Lots of tats, had kind of side-eyed what she'd brought along to a drive and she'd danced around the subject a bit because she wasn't sure how cool he'd be about accepting something she'd nicked from a really bougie supermarket's lorry. Glenda hadn't even really planned to steal anything, she'd just felt frustrated and impotent and had got really mad about fucking, artisan bread for posh pricks when some people couldn't eat, and next thing she knew she had a bag full of assorted stuff free to a good home.
Anyway he hadn't questioned it and had even smirked a bit so he was probably alright.
She couldn't remember if she'd met Zandah before.
Cautiously, Glenda re-approached the door and finally opened it for real. She didn't get instantly shot, and there they both were. She gave a slightly awkward wave for lack of anything better.
"Hi. Glenda." She thought about apologising for her suspicion, but decided not to lie. "You're right, it's only going to get colder." Glenda glanced at the guns on display and tried not to wince or betray any nerves. She'd read once that a gun against a knife wasn't as one-sided as you'd think, since it was hard to hit a moving target in close quarters, and hey, this wans't even a knife she had. She also thought she'd wind up as a bloody smear if she tried any monkey business. Evan's gun looked like it could stop a car, let alone a person.
Could it stop a horrifying death beast? Ugh. Jury out.
"I can stick around if you're offering, sure."
She straightened up as Evan resumed and then continued talking. Evan, Evan. The name was familiar but the voice moreso. Oh! He was a TA. Had maybe TA'd her actually since he was Professor C's TA and jesus h christ Glenda was thinking about that again now. because one batch of murder wasn't enough there also had to be some kind of creature from outer space here to rip your cool teacher to pieceshahahahaFUCK.
Evan's voice faded back in at the tail end of something about stealing supplies and she remembered. Slightly older guy. Lots of tats, had kind of side-eyed what she'd brought along to a drive and she'd danced around the subject a bit because she wasn't sure how cool he'd be about accepting something she'd nicked from a really bougie supermarket's lorry. Glenda hadn't even really planned to steal anything, she'd just felt frustrated and impotent and had got really mad about fucking, artisan bread for posh pricks when some people couldn't eat, and next thing she knew she had a bag full of assorted stuff free to a good home.
Anyway he hadn't questioned it and had even smirked a bit so he was probably alright.
She couldn't remember if she'd met Zandah before.
Cautiously, Glenda re-approached the door and finally opened it for real. She didn't get instantly shot, and there they both were. She gave a slightly awkward wave for lack of anything better.
"Hi. Glenda." She thought about apologising for her suspicion, but decided not to lie. "You're right, it's only going to get colder." Glenda glanced at the guns on display and tried not to wince or betray any nerves. She'd read once that a gun against a knife wasn't as one-sided as you'd think, since it was hard to hit a moving target in close quarters, and hey, this wans't even a knife she had. She also thought she'd wind up as a bloody smear if she tried any monkey business. Evan's gun looked like it could stop a car, let alone a person.
Could it stop a horrifying death beast? Ugh. Jury out.
"I can stick around if you're offering, sure."
-
MurderWeasel
- Posts: 3442
- Joined: Mon Aug 06, 2018 9:56 am
- Team Affiliation: Jewel's Leviathans
"Right," Zandah said, "good."
It didn't feel like much of a contribution, but he was pretty happy to let Evan handle this. At least Glenda had introduced herself, which spared Zandah the awkwardness of interacting with her without knowing her name and instead set him up for the awkwardness of having forgotten her name an hour from now. He'd heard that it was easier to retain names if you said them three times in the conversation in which you learned them, but also trying to do that made him feel like an alien.
"Glad to have you, Glenda," he said. That was one. That was as far as he could expect to go, at least for now. In his head, he thought it twice more: Glenda, Glenda. It was a habit that he'd formed despite its proven personal futility. There were customers Zandah had been interacting with every few days for actual years whose names he would never be able to guess, and that was with the benefit of regularly seeing them written out on receipts.
He'd have to rely on Evan to have a better memory, and to say her name now and then to be his reminder. Evan seemed the sort to figure out when to use names without being awkward. Whenever people said Zandah's name a whole lot, or out of nowhere, or really at all, he felt like they wanted something or were trying to butter him up, or (if they'd just met) like they were trying to use that three-times trick and were sounding exactly like he feared he would if he took the advice literally.
This was such a pointless thing to be stressing out about when they were all going to actually die, probably at the fangs of the Nexu. That made it a pretty appealing source of stress, though. Zandah could wrap his head around social awkwardness easily. It was an old and comfortable anxiety, and he knew what to do with it.
Or what not to do, in this case. Evan would know how to proceed, so Zandah could just hang tight.
It didn't feel like much of a contribution, but he was pretty happy to let Evan handle this. At least Glenda had introduced herself, which spared Zandah the awkwardness of interacting with her without knowing her name and instead set him up for the awkwardness of having forgotten her name an hour from now. He'd heard that it was easier to retain names if you said them three times in the conversation in which you learned them, but also trying to do that made him feel like an alien.
"Glad to have you, Glenda," he said. That was one. That was as far as he could expect to go, at least for now. In his head, he thought it twice more: Glenda, Glenda. It was a habit that he'd formed despite its proven personal futility. There were customers Zandah had been interacting with every few days for actual years whose names he would never be able to guess, and that was with the benefit of regularly seeing them written out on receipts.
He'd have to rely on Evan to have a better memory, and to say her name now and then to be his reminder. Evan seemed the sort to figure out when to use names without being awkward. Whenever people said Zandah's name a whole lot, or out of nowhere, or really at all, he felt like they wanted something or were trying to butter him up, or (if they'd just met) like they were trying to use that three-times trick and were sounding exactly like he feared he would if he took the advice literally.
This was such a pointless thing to be stressing out about when they were all going to actually die, probably at the fangs of the Nexu. That made it a pretty appealing source of stress, though. Zandah could wrap his head around social awkwardness easily. It was an old and comfortable anxiety, and he knew what to do with it.
Or what not to do, in this case. Evan would know how to proceed, so Zandah could just hang tight.
Evan was happy to recognize the face that peeked out behind the door, and elated even more so when she seemed willing to stick around after his impromptu sales pitch.
“Glenda! Hell yes, please stick around. Sorry I forgot your name.”
He smiled, attempting and surely failing to hide just how worn down he was starting to feel now that he wasn’t setting upon some task. Rifling through his supplies, and then rifling in a more literal sense, these things were tangible and important and yet still distractions. The open space to talk about what might’ve been going on and what it all meant and where they’d all end up - that wasn’t manageable.
Keep moving a voice told him, in his head. His voice. Sort of. It was easier to recognize the voices of others than the one in his own head when he started to feel like this. That was what he’d have to focus on to not lose his mind in this place.
“It’s cold. Right. I think we’re all on the same page about that. We know our guns work so I guess - we should really try to fortify somewhere and get our bearings. My sense is we’re all still a bit…”
Reeling. Afraid. Traumatized. One of those. Emotions were starting to feel difficult to grasp again. An awkward pause hung over the room as Evan let the sentence go unfinished, seemingly unaware of having done so. In his head, he thought he’d said it correctly, but he couldn’t be sure. He started talking again, but his words were unfocused, not entirely directed at either or both of them.
“There’s gotta be some shit to burn around here. Maybe a good spot to set up where we’re not so exposed…”
Evan slung the rifle over his shoulder, and then clasped his gloved hands together, looking to them for input. He didn’t like that he was pushing any of this on them, but he had to keep thinking of the next thing and found it hard to let himself stay still. Yet there was no way to keep moving without them.
“Umm - does that work for you guys? I - I’m not really fond of telling folks what to do.”
“Glenda! Hell yes, please stick around. Sorry I forgot your name.”
He smiled, attempting and surely failing to hide just how worn down he was starting to feel now that he wasn’t setting upon some task. Rifling through his supplies, and then rifling in a more literal sense, these things were tangible and important and yet still distractions. The open space to talk about what might’ve been going on and what it all meant and where they’d all end up - that wasn’t manageable.
Keep moving a voice told him, in his head. His voice. Sort of. It was easier to recognize the voices of others than the one in his own head when he started to feel like this. That was what he’d have to focus on to not lose his mind in this place.
“It’s cold. Right. I think we’re all on the same page about that. We know our guns work so I guess - we should really try to fortify somewhere and get our bearings. My sense is we’re all still a bit…”
Reeling. Afraid. Traumatized. One of those. Emotions were starting to feel difficult to grasp again. An awkward pause hung over the room as Evan let the sentence go unfinished, seemingly unaware of having done so. In his head, he thought he’d said it correctly, but he couldn’t be sure. He started talking again, but his words were unfocused, not entirely directed at either or both of them.
“There’s gotta be some shit to burn around here. Maybe a good spot to set up where we’re not so exposed…”
Evan slung the rifle over his shoulder, and then clasped his gloved hands together, looking to them for input. He didn’t like that he was pushing any of this on them, but he had to keep thinking of the next thing and found it hard to let himself stay still. Yet there was no way to keep moving without them.
“Umm - does that work for you guys? I - I’m not really fond of telling folks what to do.”
SOTF: U
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
Evan Keane: "I guess my world was always gonna end, somehow."
SOTF Supers:
August Hanlon - "This never felt like much of a Gift."
Glenda tugged her coat a little closer around herself. She'd shut it out, fixed as she was on the fact that it seemed as if there was a pretty good chance she'd get her head blown off any second, but you know what? Yeah, yeah, it was damn cold.
She inclined her head very slightly towards Zandah, letting him know she appreciated the greeting and the, well, burgeoning alliance. She was feeling a little less edgy, if only because a trap would have been sprung by now if it was going to spring. Didn't make her trust bottomless or unqualified. That wasn't how this should play out.
Evan finished, and Glenda nodded. "Last place we need to be is out in the open. Murderlion can probably camouflage or something."
She'd hoped that a nickname might take some of the sting out of her memory. Instead she felt like a kid clumsily flailing past her comprehension.
"...Anyway, ready when you are."
((all three continue elsewhere!))
She inclined her head very slightly towards Zandah, letting him know she appreciated the greeting and the, well, burgeoning alliance. She was feeling a little less edgy, if only because a trap would have been sprung by now if it was going to spring. Didn't make her trust bottomless or unqualified. That wasn't how this should play out.
Evan finished, and Glenda nodded. "Last place we need to be is out in the open. Murderlion can probably camouflage or something."
She'd hoped that a nickname might take some of the sting out of her memory. Instead she felt like a kid clumsily flailing past her comprehension.
"...Anyway, ready when you are."
((all three continue elsewhere!))