Who: Jack and OPEN Where: Lodge, first floor hall When: Around 2:30pm
Jack didn't really know how long he'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor in nothing but a pair of sweat pants, tinkering with the lock under the knob on the door no one could get into. He didn't know how to pick locks. He didn't even know if any of the array of tools he had piled next to him would work, but he was damn well going to try. A hanger, a set of chopsticks, a butter knife, a kitchen knife with his name on it, spoon, fork, a screwdriver that he'd borrowed from Chase. Most of them had at least fit into the keyhole, though maneuvering everything had gotten a bit harder since the drinking had caught up with him. At least he'd had enough common sense to move the big knife further out of reach.
The last dregs of the Dalmore 62 cast a pretty amber reflection across the floor from the windows behind him. The big orange cat was somewhere back there too, watching him judgmentally and probably licking its crotch. He hadn't bothered to look in a while, though he was pretty sure he was flashing the feline some level of plumber's crack at this point.
He'd lost Izzy. He'd lost Evie. He'd lost Juno. Now he'd lost Kate. The morning had been rough as hell, spending most of it in the now-empty room he'd once shared with her so he wouldn't disturb poor Owen with his blabbering. He supposed he could go talk to Oliver. Of anyone in the house he'd get it, but that would probably be intruding on whatever he needed right now, which was probably Edwin. Interrupting that felt wrong. So, for most of the morning he hadn't really known what to do with himself, but now he had a goal. Maybe he could save someone.
"Wee-tah-kah-loo-looooooo," the furby on the other side of the door called pleasantly.
"Uh huh, I hear you, buddy," Jack slurred distractedly in reply as he leaned in further, nearly hitting his head on the door before he caught himself. He tried to peer into the keyhole over the length of chopstick to see what he was doing, and for the hundredth time mentally told himself he really should go find a flashlight. He wouldn't. He didn't even know if he could stand up at the moment.