I like to see it lap the miles [Open Log]

[bindlestifflost]

Who: George Milton and various
When: May catch-all
Where: ADI, the library, the train, various
Summary: TDM and non-TDM prompts throughout the month
Warnings: CW from the current TDM posts, will warn in individual threads for anything additional.



1. Well Read

George would never call himself a reader at the best of times beyond a few of the Western pulps always stashed in the bunkhouses back home, the newspaper, and now some select training material so he's not completely useless in his job with ADI. The flyers were inviting, though, and he'd had enough fun at the fair to put on his hat and head out to the library.

Once there, he finds to his disappointment there's nowhere to hang it, a common issue with the places in town it seems, so he holds it in one hand and picks at the books with the other. There are at least a few Westerns that look interesting in the huge pile of the sorts of things he never would have touched or looked twice at back home. Maybe he should now, though? It's different here. These aren't stuff and nonsense, maybe not all of them.

He rubs at his mouth, frowning and trying to decide. Cryptids: Fact, Fiction, or Local Conspiracy? The Haunting of Bell Hollow? Or maybe, The Monster Under the Bed: What to do when it absolutely, positively isn't rats in the wall? Good God, that one sounds grim.

OR

"An' I'm tellin' you I only been in town a month. I don't care what that little box says. I ain't in your system, and I never checked out Pie in the Sky or whatever the hell you're tryin' to say I did." He's clearly had it with the librarian behind the checkout desk, enough that he's committing the cardinal sin (in his time, at least) of raising his voice.

"It's Eye in the Sky, sir," she says, completely unflapped. "We have you burning through the first several books in our Louis L'amour collection. You even have two more on hold right here. George Milton. If you show me your ID, I can tell you if it matches our address on file."

"I ain't showing you nothin', lady. You take alla that out."

If you're waiting in line behind him, sorry. This may take a while.

OR

Someone has stopped behind you at one of the computers while you're taking one of those book quizzes. It's not that he means to be a lookie loo or pry into your business, but you're the one who was muttering to yourself angrily and acting like you'd rather be anywhere but here.

What does he see?

2. Training Wheels Off

Scratchmarks

George very suddenly bursts through the door leading out of your car into the space between the next, wild eyed and breathing heavily. "Jesus Christ!" The sight of you standing right there in his face has him jumping back, which in turn has him twisting wildly to avoid setting foot in the cramped space again.

"I wouldn't go that way if'n I was you," he says, voice steadier but a strange tremor at the edges. "Door's stuck, an' it looks like I wasn't the first one got trapped."

OR

"Hang on! I'm working to get it open quick as I can. You think I'm Jesse Owens? Ain't easy to run on a blasted train." His voice sounds like it's getting closer. You hear a latch turn, and George yanks the door open suddenly.

"What happened? You get stuck?"

Fearful Tunnel Syndrome

George has never been particularly scared of the dark most of his life, except maybe deep out in the scrub with the mountain lions screaming in the night or the heavy, animal lumber of a bear close enough to make him hang onto Lennie and pet his hair to keep him quiet until it passed. This is different. This is night so deep it swallows a man alive. This is the pressure of a void that closes in and chokes off breath, disembodies a body to the point he can't be sure it's his hand in front of his eyes or the secret pressure of another, less than an inch away. Leering and waiting to touch.

And that tapping. What in the name of God would be tapping the windows in a tunnel? He's quiet at first, the tense, drawn in on himself kind of quiet that's a will to disappear and not be seen, but the longer this goes, the harder it is to sit there. Say nothing. Do nothing.

As quiet as he's trying to be, his whisper startles him, much too loud in his own ears. "I ain't the only one hearing that, right?"

OR

You sound like you're having a bad time of it. Despite the shivers chasing themselves down his skin and spine, George can't ignore somebody who clearly needs help. "Hey." It's soft and deep, and if there's an edge of uncertainty to it, can anyone blame him? "You ain't alone, OK? Follow my voice. I'll take your hand. It's George."

Burned Bridges

"No, I'm tellin' you I didn't see nothing. I was looking out the window same as you. If you'll jes' calm down and tell me what you seen, maybe we can figure it out." He's not going to go so far as to say nothing was there, but if it was, he has no idea how he missed it.

3. Wild Card

If you'd like to wild card a prep for the trip thread or something else at the apartments or in town, feel free to hit me. George fairly routinely goes to the general store and a bar by the docks. He can also be found at various bus stops, in the ADI library researching on a computer, and elsewhere on the campus wandering or training.

If you want to thread something weird, please just contact me first so we can get a general idea of what, and I'd rather not wildcard any of the other TDM prompts here. Also, if you take the reading over the shoulder prompt, be aware if George learns truly awful things about your character and hasn't had some incredibly positive CR with them over the past month, it will affect any development with him in a negative way moving forward. I like negative CR and am fine with that, but I also like for these sorts of things to be in the open so nobody gets a nasty surprise.

Comments

2. - Burned Bridges

[abrightboy]

"I'm telling you..." Malcolm stops and takes a breath, squeezing his hand into a fist along his right leg, so its shaking wouldn't be obvious. "I saw a dead body," he says in an even, measured tone. "An immolated corpse, right along the train tracks."

[bindlestifflost]

"Awwright, Malcolm. I believe you." He has seen enough of him to know he's observant at least and not given over to talking nonsense. "Jes' 'cause I didn't see it don't mean much. We's going fast enough."

He licks his lips, thinking. "We should report it to somebody on the train. You'd know who better than me. Maybe call the law, too?" He'd seen all kinds of messed up things on tracks most of his life. This isn't the sort of thing they can do much about.

[abrightboy]

“Aren’t we the ‘law’ of Messed Up Stuff?” He starts hurrying towards the back of the train. “How fast do you think we’re going? Did you ever ride the rails? What’s the fastest that it’s safe to jump off?”

[bindlestifflost]

"Hey!" He's quick to crab after him, shooting a hand out to grab him around the biceps, his grip hard from a lifetime of physical labor.

"You ain't jumpin' off this train. It's too fast, an' it ain't safe. If we's the law of messed up stuff, then we share it with the rest 'a the folks. They think it's a big enough problem, they can stop the whole damn train and give us a chance to check it out."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm looks at him and looks almost desperately at the window, the scenery going by, carrying them fast away from the crime scene.

"Who's even in charge?" he asks.

[bindlestifflost]

"Well, that's somethin' we can find out together, ain't it?" No way no how is he about to let him go, not seeing that look and knowing he's exactly the sort of squirrely sum bitch who'd take a flying leap if he thought it would do some good.

"I'll back you up. Jes' 'cause I didn't see it don't mean you didn't. What I ain't gonna let you do is break your neck or worse jumping out of this train. Don't make me set on you. I'll do it."

[abrightboy]

That last remark makes Malcolm stop and look at George. Really look at him. Really meet his eyes.

Is he acting crazy, to elicit such concern? He takes a very intentional breath and nods. "Okay, so... let's go up to the engine and see who's driving," he suggests.

2

[failedpromise]

"Dammit." Her voice is shaky as she swears under her breath. This had to happen when her Human illusion was blocking her from emitting light, didn't it?

Even louder than Cortana's swearing is the sound of her awkward fumbling in the dark as she tries to find some kind of light. Her phone is, apparently, entirely dead; her increasingly desperate attempts to turn it on eventually just result in it slipping from her hands and clattering to the floor. What's going on? For someone who thrives on knowledge, being kept in the literal dark is terrifying.

"George?" Relief floods her as she heads toward the voice. Things might be a bit awkward as neither of them can see and she's just sort of awkwardly feeling her way around-she's likely to bump into or accidentally poke or smack him stumbling about like she is. "Are you okay?"

[bindlestifflost]

"Cortana?" The fact she isn't glowy is probably more alarming than the fact it's so dang dark in the first place. She ought to be, so does that mean she's hurt?

"Yeah, yeah, it's me. I'm awwright. Hang on. I'm gonna try to meet ya in the middle." Whatever the middle is in this pitch black. He eases out of his seat to follow the sounds, both hands outstretched as he creeps along forward. He doesn't want to slam into her, or poke her in the eyes.

"You awwright?"

[failedpromise]

"Yeah. Bit of an unpleasant reminder of my time stuck in space, but I'll be fine."

Their hands bump against each other and she snatches at his, a firmness to her grip suggesting that it's a bit more than just an unpleasant reminder.

"That said, given that no other technology appears to be operational, it might be a good idea to check on Nick." Hopefully like her he's fine, but she can't be sure and she doesn't like not knowing. Is Nick even on the train with them?

Shit. Given where they're headed, this is probably some kind of attack, and they're woefully unprepared.

And then the tapping starts. Or she starts to hear it. Cortana goes very still.

"Do you hear that?"

[bindlestifflost]

Once he has her hand, his hold is just as firm. It's steadying to be able to feel someone is right there, more than a disembodied voice in the dark. That's the kind of thing that messes with a head after a while. He settles them palm to palm with a tight curl of fingers, the type of hold they can walk with two abreast down the aisle between the seats if they need to.

He immediately feels that urge at the mention of Nick. "Yeah, we should. Last I seen him he was..." He drops off when he realizes he has no idea which end of the train they're facing. He has lost all concept of spatial orientation in the consuming blackness. "Shit. Couldn't tell ya."

He's on the verge of suggesting they just pick a direction anyway. The space is limited. They can walk from one end to the other in a matter of minutes and call out for Nick as they go. Until the tapping starts. His grip tightens before her question.

"Yeah." His voice is barely above a whisper now. "Comin' from..." He listens harder. "Both sides a' us. Windows, maybe?" It sounds like sticks on glass. Or bony fingers... His shoulders tense.

[failedpromise]

Cortana proceeds to mutter a stream of words that honestly would be uncouth even for a sailor.

"Winter's having panic attacks, I'm pretty sure I saw Manji looking sick earlier, most of our people are still recovering from injuries sustained last month, and I don't know about you, but I can't aim a gun in the dark. Our odds aren't looking good if whatever is making that noise decides to attack." It could be a scare tactic. Drum up fear in preparation for the real battle ahead. She hopes it's just that.

[bindlestifflost]

"Naw, I can't aim no gun in the dark," he agrees, grim enough that at least for now the subject of the gun is secondary to their predicament.

"Might be better if we can get together whoever we can find." He's sure hoping one of those people is Nick. "Find one a' the cars we can hole up in and maybe barricade. Dining cars got all them tables." Feeling their way to do it in the dark might not be the easiest thing to do. Easier than having no direction and waiting for the windows to break in.

2- Fearful Tunnel

[whisperedone]

He notices when the lights go out. Even were his right eye not still capable of noticing dramatic changes in ambient lighting, the murmur and alarm from others would certainly have clued him in. He straightens up in his chair, head turning to catch what sounds he could hear. Any interest in the others fades for the sound of tapping that suddenly take his interest.

Garner leans closer to the source and feels a chill through him as his hand comes up to briefly rest against glass. That should not be possible. He can't be sure how quickly this train is moving, but it feels fast.

George's whisper isn't loud in the grand scheme of things, but it's still enough to have Garner jump out of his skin as focused on the tapping sound as he is, and that shake lingers in his voice as he answers. "No. It is not just you...something is out there."

[bindlestifflost]

"Garner? 'S that you?" People's voices sound strange in darkness this thick, distorted somehow. Or maybe it's just that the quiet dragged just long enough that his ears strained too hard. Might never hear things quite the same way again. He punches his own arm quietly for that stupid, spooky thought.

"That's what I thought, too. But...we was passing into a tunnel." He's quiet for long enough that could be it until he adds abruptly and with no certainty, "Roots?"

[whisperedone]

He thinks he know how far away George is and he's pretty certain he could move and reach over to him. "It's me, I'm going to reach out for your arm now so you know where I am."

He finds what he's pretty certain is George's forearm and keeps a grip there as he thinks the rest of that guess over. "I...can see how that would make sense...but it's too deliberate. Too forceful. Unless the roots have minds..." It didn't seem likely. This was a purposeful jamming of what sounded like fingers to glass, as though something were trying to get in. Or simply scare them. It was doing a decent job.

[bindlestifflost]

He has never been more glad to have a hand on him in his life. It calms him down enough he can release some of the tension lifting his shoulders close to his ears. Without even thinking about it, he reaches over to cover his grip with his own.

"Christ 'amighty, man, don't say that." Roots with minds of their own? No, not creepy in the least.

"It's probably...probably like that damn day in Dogtown, right? Something messing with our minds. Tryin' to get in our heads. Crowley said the less fear you give 'em, the harder it is for 'em to do it." Great in theory. A hell of a lot harder to put into practice in this kind of situation.

[whisperedone]

The touch is more than welcome with so much tension in the air. Even if Garner's senses are unaffected compared to the others, that unease alone is enough to put him well on guard.

"Oh...was that not helpful?" Is he being sarcastic? Hard to tell when his tone is seemingly dry most of the time, but it might have been an attempt at levity.

"Crowley is wise. Fear is a choice, not in feeling it, but in letting it hold you in place. Rally yourself, George. I will stay by you until it passes...one way or another." It might be an illusion or it might be a real threat...for how realistic that day in Dogtown had been, he didn't think they could be blamed for expecting no difference between what was around them and what was in their heads.

The thought certainly didn't keep his heart any more calm.

[bindlestifflost]

"Ain't you jes' a gas," he says almost as dry. He seems to have taken it as humor at least. Not funny! But an attempt.

"Might be a good idea to stay close either way. Whatever that is out there busts in, it'll be all hands on deck." His voice is still tight. It sounds like he's trying for deeper breaths, trying to center himself in his own body and connect with what he can feel, the seat under him and at his back, the vibration of the train beneath his feet, both points of contact between him and Garner.

"What's the scariest thing you ever seen before comin' here?" Fight fear with fear? It's something vivid enough, he thinks, but also in the past that maybe it'll work to settle both of them. He's already trying to think of his own answer.

1

[10billionpercent]

The questions had begun so benign, Senku hadn't even batted an eye. Questions about the science fiction genre were actually something he could answer. He'd been all too happy to type away the answers.

He'd begun to hesitate. Some of them still seemed like they could be general, but this question, this one could not.

If there was a minute, slight chance of saving someone would you kill them and cryogenically freeze them without knowing at a later date their life could be saved, even if there's a high likelihood they would just remain dead?

That...was not a random question. Senku frowned at it, glancing around.

[bindlestifflost]

That glance around happened to catch George's eye. What had his attention more was the frown. He ambled over with one hand in a pocket and his hat hooked on the middle finger of the other. "Hey, Senku. They got you working on one 'a them book quizzes? I ain't never seen so many sour pusses in one place. Must be hard questions, huh?"

He casually tried to look over his shoulder to see what had him out of sorts.

[10billionpercent]

"Not hard, exactly, but extremely personal." Senku responded with a huff. "This not about some book."

No.

Incorrect response.

Context is important. So, no.

Incorrect response.

Senku huffed in annoyance at the test fighting back on his answer, then again it was the first time he was trying to avoid it, as it was getting beyond personal.

[bindlestifflost]

"Oh." He drew back a step or two, enough that he was no longer reading over his shoulder. The least he could do was give him his privacy if there was an issue like this.

"Do you need me to scram? I was gonna go look at some 'a the books they's offering, see if any struck my fancy." He didn't want to complicate anything for him, and it wasn't like they were pals. They'd only talked a couple of times.

[10billionpercent]

"No, I don't care about that. It's not that it's private...it isn't. I'm just not sure how to stop the quiz. I don't...I feel like I can't walk away." Senku responded with a bit of a frown. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

Yes.

If Johnny needed something picked up on the moon, but you could only get there and had no way to get back, would you go?

"At what point does it stop?"

[bindlestifflost]

He nodded. At least there was that. It didn't mean he'd try to read over his shoulder. Instead he moved more to the side, outside a direct line of sight.

"Do you think you can turn the computer off? Or if you can't, I can try?" He didn't understand what was going on exactly. It was the only logical solution he could think of.