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apocalypsehowcomm2024-02-05 12:23 am
worthallthis) wrote in apocalypsehowcomm2024-02-05 12:23 am
Entry tags:
Picking Up the Pieces [OTA log]
Who: Winter and open
When: After getting free of Dogtown
Where: Locations in the prompts
Summary: Trying to feel out the new world
Warnings: Grief
I. Changes
All Winter wants after they stumble out of the woods is a long bath and to curl up in bed and not come out for at least a day. But the town looks... strange. Some of the buildings are different. He doesn't recognize most of the people. There are definitely different names on some of his familiar haunts. Some of those signs move.
At first Winter chalks it up to exhaustion and grief making him see things. It wouldn't be the first time. He just hauls Kate and Rogers and whoever else stays with him back to the house, aching for that bath.
Except the house is in shambles. It looks almost like it did when they first bought it, right down to graffiti sprayed on one wall and a couple broken windows. Winter stares at it in dismay.
II. First Night - Closed to Kate and/or Rogers
They wind up getting a room at the local motel at least for the night, so Winter can get his goddamn bath. And clean up Rogers' hands. And eat a two boxes of pizza between them.
And then curl up in bed and stare at the his phone until the battery dies, staring at the tiny dot on the tracking app that has Yelena's name on it. Right next to the dots that say Rogers, Kate, and Winter, because he has Yelena's tracker still in his pocket.
III. The House
Winter is determined to get the house back to some kind of shape again. It's their house. The house he and Yelena and Rogers all pitched in to buy outright, which is probably the only reason it's even still standing after fifteen fucking years (fifteen years, Jesus Christ), rather than knocked down and remodeled to something new.
The roof is okay, since it had been new. The basement is still clean, newly sealed and locked up tight before they'd left. The rest of the house is a disaster. There's cleaning to do first, then replacing windows all over again. Winter is relieved as hell they had installed tile in the downstairs room rather than carpet or wood, because they don't need to replace that.
Just all the carpet upstairs. And almost all of the furniture. And all their clothes. And half his notebooks containing his precious memories. Ugh.
IV. The Town
Winter spends the rest of his free time wandering around town. He can do so with his metal arm in plain sight, amazingly, because there are like four other people in town with replacement limbs almost as high tech. He sits in the one diner and one cafe that haven't changed too much in the past fifteen years and stares at his phone or writes obsessively in new notebooks, takes up reading to the kids at the completely remodeled library, and stares at the grounds that used to house ADI for a long time every day.
And of course he makes plans. The entities are still here. There are still people who want to serve them. He and the rest are pretty uniquely suited to dealing with that. Maybe not even violently, if he can come up with ways to help stop the spread of fear without it. Though violence is certainly still on the table.
There may be a road trip in the future to the other former ADI employees, but that's for the future. The house comes first.
... and maybe a job. Somehow.
When: After getting free of Dogtown
Where: Locations in the prompts
Summary: Trying to feel out the new world
Warnings: Grief
I. Changes
All Winter wants after they stumble out of the woods is a long bath and to curl up in bed and not come out for at least a day. But the town looks... strange. Some of the buildings are different. He doesn't recognize most of the people. There are definitely different names on some of his familiar haunts. Some of those signs move.
At first Winter chalks it up to exhaustion and grief making him see things. It wouldn't be the first time. He just hauls Kate and Rogers and whoever else stays with him back to the house, aching for that bath.
Except the house is in shambles. It looks almost like it did when they first bought it, right down to graffiti sprayed on one wall and a couple broken windows. Winter stares at it in dismay.
II. First Night - Closed to Kate and/or Rogers
They wind up getting a room at the local motel at least for the night, so Winter can get his goddamn bath. And clean up Rogers' hands. And eat a two boxes of pizza between them.
And then curl up in bed and stare at the his phone until the battery dies, staring at the tiny dot on the tracking app that has Yelena's name on it. Right next to the dots that say Rogers, Kate, and Winter, because he has Yelena's tracker still in his pocket.
III. The House
Winter is determined to get the house back to some kind of shape again. It's their house. The house he and Yelena and Rogers all pitched in to buy outright, which is probably the only reason it's even still standing after fifteen fucking years (fifteen years, Jesus Christ), rather than knocked down and remodeled to something new.
The roof is okay, since it had been new. The basement is still clean, newly sealed and locked up tight before they'd left. The rest of the house is a disaster. There's cleaning to do first, then replacing windows all over again. Winter is relieved as hell they had installed tile in the downstairs room rather than carpet or wood, because they don't need to replace that.
Just all the carpet upstairs. And almost all of the furniture. And all their clothes. And half his notebooks containing his precious memories. Ugh.
IV. The Town
Winter spends the rest of his free time wandering around town. He can do so with his metal arm in plain sight, amazingly, because there are like four other people in town with replacement limbs almost as high tech. He sits in the one diner and one cafe that haven't changed too much in the past fifteen years and stares at his phone or writes obsessively in new notebooks, takes up reading to the kids at the completely remodeled library, and stares at the grounds that used to house ADI for a long time every day.
And of course he makes plans. The entities are still here. There are still people who want to serve them. He and the rest are pretty uniquely suited to dealing with that. Maybe not even violently, if he can come up with ways to help stop the spread of fear without it. Though violence is certainly still on the table.
There may be a road trip in the future to the other former ADI employees, but that's for the future. The house comes first.
... and maybe a job. Somehow.