Amy Peterson (ripefruit) wrote in carnaval_logs, @ 2013-09-26 14:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed (15), amy peterson, ~carl sinclair (npc) |
Who: Carl Sinclair and Amy Peterson
Where: The carnival lot
When: Wednesday (backdated)
What: Amy is arriving and very confused.
Warnings: None. If any develop I’ll edit this.
Since Jerry’s death, life had been close to perfect for Amy Peterson. Today had been spent hanging out, just her and her boyfriend Charley. Amy smiled over her shoulder at the young man who gave her an adorably awkward wave goodbye as she pulled away from his house in her green WV bug. It wasn’t a long drive between their houses and soon Amy was home. She turned the ignition off and tucked her car keys in her front jean pocket, letting out a long sigh. Nights without Charley were a little difficult. It was true that life had gone back to normal following Jerry’s death, but Amy was still left with anxiety from the whole situation. She never looked forward to nights alone because it usually meant nightmares. Slowly, almost as if she didn’t want to leave her car, she stepped out of it and closed the door behind her. Amy was halfway to her front door when she muttered a curse under her breath, realizing that she’d left her purse in her car. As she turned, though, she found herself in an entirely different place.
For one, it was no longer a balmy Las Vegas evening. It was daylight. This wasn’t Las Vegas, either. It was a wide, open area as dry as her hometown but the dryness was where the resemblance ended. There were no suburban homes, no casino lights out on the horizon. Just dust and lots of it. All around her there seemed to be activity buzzing. There were tents, cars, trailers... Obviously something was going on, though Amy had no idea what exactly was going on. The people around her were dressed in extremely dated clothing and seemed to be moving with great purpose. She assumed they were all hard at work and felt reluctant to bother any of them, but Amy had to know what was going on. She had to figure out where she was. She approached a man and gently, almost hesitatingly tugged on his sleeve.
“Excuse me, but where are we?”