snowblindrpg | [log] two assholes walk into an abandoned building and... [closed]

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[log] two assholes walk into an abandoned building and... [closed]

Characters: Alfie Solomons, Royce Melborn
Location building 102
Date: evening of 121 through morning of 122
Summary: Alfie and Royce run into each other by chance, and decide to travel together for a few days
Warnings: n/a; will edit if anything comes up

During his week in Norfinbury, Alfie has settled into a tentative schedule. He wakes early, searches the building he'd spent the previous night in, and gets an early start walking. He searches most or all of the buildings he comes across, only finding a place to stay shortly before lockdown begins. By then he's usually too tired to do much physical activity, so he takes care of various other things until he's ready to sleep through to the morning, when it's time to search the building. Rinse, repeat.

On the day of his arrival, he'd told someone - he can't remember who now - that he couldn't imagine having to fight boredom here. Now, seven days in, he's forced to eat his words. His days are monotonous and solitary, and worst of all, they feel pointless. Everything is based around day-to-day survival, and despite the theories and plans flying around, he doesn't feel like anybody is close to escape. He has questions to ask and potential clues to share, but with everybody else worrying about the Joker's bombs, he's holding off.

At least his hearing is back to normal. He's incredibly relieved about that.

When he arrives at his house for the night, he begins his now-familiar routine. His outer clothes (a big coat, and the trash bag that he wears under it) come off immediately, and are set out to dry. The boots are next, as is everything inside of them (socks, plastic sandwich bags, bits of fuzz and insulation). He dries any wet skin off with a piece of dirty paper towel, which is then set out to dry next to the shoes. Now that he has two bath towels, the one that he's been wearing around his shoulders all day (always under his coat and trash bag, but above his vest) gets switched out for the other. Finally, he sinks down into the living room armchair, stretching his legs out and shoving his bare feet under one of the couch cushions. His fingers are worrying him a bit - he's managed to avoid frostbite, but only barely. He's still keeping a close eye on them, tracking their state using his tablet's camera and hoping that the gloves he'd found the day before will help keep them from getting any worse. And that's where he'll be until lockdown - sitting alone, tablet in hand, taking multiple close-up shots of his hands to compare to the previous days' pictures.

Threaded | Flat

While he's not immune to the effects, Royce is used to living outside. He knows what his body can handle and what it can't, and it's why he's careful, why he tries to stay out of the snow as much as possible. Obviously, it's hard to avoid, but he tries. Today, he found mittens. Those help, but it isn't really the cold that's the problem; it's the wet. Mostly, Royce has just resigned himself to freezing. He moves as much as possible, keeps his hands under his armpits as he walks - there's only so much he can do with the amount of snow there is.

When he makes his way into the house before lockdown, he's frozen to the bone. He's still shivering, so that's good, at the very least. His immediate goal is to get inside and get his wet clothes off, blanket on. Completely and utterly annoyed by the conversation he'd had with Tifa and Cloud, Royce makes his way into the house, only to stop dead when he spots Alfie sitting on the armchair. Recognizes him, somewhat, but he can't place where.

There's a beat of silence, where everything in Royce goes still - his breathing quiets, and he takes a step back, out of view. Thinks about trying to make it to another house, but he doesn't have time.

So instead, he moves in silently, and tries to make it upstairs without Alfie hearing. Of course, since his feet are numb, he's not quite on top of his game.

It may be a surprise, but Royce doesn't actually hate being around Alfie. He's capable, non-chatty, and they're typically on the same page. Royce appreciates it - doesn't trust him, obviously, but he thinks the guy is reasonable enough to hang around. The suggestion that they stick together, at least for the day, goes over well, and after searching the house they stayed in, they head out.

The house they head to first isn't unusual from the others. Royce hasn't been to this particular one before, so he takes his time searching through it, relishing the chance to stretch his freezing fingers. The first search didn't have much that was useful, though he is amused by the fake blood. Who knows, could be something he can trade.

It's when he comes up to the wall to search through the couch cushions that something weird happens.

Not the first time he's run into something weird in the houses - a few nights before, he'd stayed in a house where it constantly felt like water was dripping onto his head, even though he was certain there were no leaks. This is much different. This time, as he's searching, he feels something against the back of his head, trying to grip his hood, which immediately has him leaping back, makeshift shiv in hand.

When he looks, there's nothing there. Royce stands in the middle of the living room, glaring at the wall, and then looking over his shoulder, at the ceiling, like he expects to find something there.

Threaded | Flat

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Day 122, House 103