Downfall RPG

Who: Tayne and Joyce
Where: Fitness center
When: Early afternoon, about 1ish

There was a shaft of sunlight coming down through the wooden boards half-covering the windows in the fitness center, and Tayne had plopped himself square into it. It was about perfect: the public bathroom was just a quick dash away, the room was open and didn't smell as closed-in and like sickness and sweat as his own bedroom, and it was bigger than Dhaval's claustrophobic little closet.

Maybe he'd have gone up to the roof, if he thought he could make it a dozen stories up. He didn't, though. So he was soaking up what sunlight he could, as close to a bathroom as he could manage. There'd been way too much throwing up today. It was not at all pleasant, and Tayne was feeling good and miserable about now.

( Don't try'n be funny with a guy with a fever and upset stomach. )

Who: Tayne and Joyce
Where: The streets by the craft shop
When: Afternoon

( Heel! Stay! No... bad dog...! )

Who: Tayne & Joyce
When: Day 10, Noon-ish
Where: The Hotel Kitchen

Joyce finished making a list of 'Things to Do', washed her face and the back of her neck with some of her water supply and put her auburn hair up in a clip. It was curling with the humidity and generally driving her crazy. She wished she could have a proper shower, but she wasn't in the mood for cold water at the moment. Her stomach growled. When was the last time she'd had a snack, just randomly, because she could? Those days were gone. She tucked the list and a pen into the pocket of her shorts and headed downstairs, looking to scrounge some food for lunch. If she thought of something else to add, she'd be able to write it down before the idea had a chance to skitter away.

There was a notice in the lobby and Joyce smiled as she turned for the dining area.

( I, uh, kind of killed a bird-shaped monster when I was out the other day, and didn't want the meat to go waste when there's a lot of hungry people back here. )

Who: Tayne and Joyce
Where: The kitchen
When: 6:30ish

The actions of making dinner, and making enough of it for the whole hotel-- okay, with help, but still-- had calmed Tayne down some from the stress of the morning. Not entirely, but certainly some. He wasn't sure he'd come to grips with the changing thing yet, but he no longer shook every time he thought of that grocery store and how much he'd wanted to tear down that poor dead girl and tear out the throat of anyone who had a hand, or a paw, in putting her there.

Okay, so maybe that thought left him a little shaky. He was trying not to think about it, really.

He leaned on the counter, arms folded across his chest, as he tried not to think. Dinner was done and sitting in the giant fridges, and he just had to wait for that seven-o-clock to roll around and everyone to get downstairs to eat. There wasn't a whole lot to distract himself with, really, except maybe other things he'd rather not be thinking about, like worrying how long their food would hold out, or about people tripping down the stairs in the dark, or about heat in the winter. So he wasn't going a very good job at keeping a cheerful face, at the moment.

( Making conversation. )