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paxnarrator ([info]paxnarrator) wrote in [info]paxletalelogs,
@ 2011-06-01 00:03:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:erebos, ereshkigal, eris, hel, hermes, jormungandr, mani, nyx, pahana, phobos, sunna, tiamat, urdr

Who: OPEN
What: Trouble on the home front.
Where: Pax Letale.
When: 9:13 p.m.
Warnings: TBD.
Notes: Feel free to have your characters go with the concierge or make their way down to the lobby of their own volition. The tower-dwelling critter won’t likely be noticed for a while yet. So mix and mingle - there’s more to come!
ETA: Our volunteers have been notified of the effect the demon will have on their characters. Expect strange things to be afoot in coming threads...

There had been nothing whatsoever to indicate something was amiss: no foul weather, no maintenance crews loitering about, no meddling kids or their damnable dogs. Everything had simply worked, and then, in the blinking of an eye, it suddenly did not. In the midst of a crisp, clear summer night, Pax Letale effectively shut down. All electricity ceased, the elevator stopping - as it often had - between floors five and six, lights, power, and emergency backup failing simultaneously. The concierge rummaged for the 30,000 candlepower Maglite stashed beneath the counter, loosely gripping the brushed metal handle with more annoyance than real concern. Slowly he began making his rounds, walking from floor to floor in an attempt to make contact with, and if need be round up, the tenants entrusted for the duration of his shift to his lax, distracted brand of care.

In the darkness of the tower something stirred. On silent steps it padded to the door, slithering through the smallest of cracks on an ozone-scented wisp of smoke. It began its downward progress, forked tongue flicking at the air, seeking out the presences it knew lay just beneath its feet.


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[info]full_of_stars
2011-06-01 04:44 am UTC (link)
"Oh, bloody hell."

The invective was spoken softly and mildly, with barely enough conviction to have been worth the utterance. At the thought, Cat smiled, shaking her head.

It was her good luck that she was just in the middle of a bath that had just begun to make the transition from lukewarm to cooling, and that she preferred to do so by a bit of candle light, even if it was a bit of a single-girl-Enya cliche. Cat didn't mind single-girl-Enya cliches, so long as they were effective or pleasurable, and bathing by candle light was certainly both, especially when the vanity lights over the mirror supplemented the dim glow of the jasmine-scented candles.

When said electric bulbs, however, flicked definitively off, she decided, despite her oath, to soak for just a bit longer, then languidly rose from the fragrant water. Pulling the shower head out of its holster, she turned the water on and rinsed clean with no casualties to her light sources. By the time the concierge knocked on her door, she was clothed in a strapless deep marine maxidress, matched with a pair of wedge sandals, her hair still piled on her head from her bath.

She only left the concierge waiting a moment while she retrieved jewelry - bangles to match the necklace that complemented the earrings - and then she was on her way.

The sandals had been the right choice; despite the height of the heel, they were light and comfortable enough that the ten-story descent to the lobby wasn't too much of a trial, and it was with a little smile and a growing sense of curiosity that she entered the foyer of the building. Having just moved in, she hadn't yet had the chance to meet anyone at Pax, and it seemed this minor inconvenience was to provide her the opportunity.

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[info]eristic
2011-06-01 05:04 am UTC (link)
Having had an early shift at the mall, Charlie somewhat unluckily found herself at home during the power outage. She'd been slowly making her way through a fresh book of WWI poetry that she'd grabbed on her way out, but that was brought to an effective end when her sole source of light blinked out into nonexistence.

Grumbling under her breath at her unpreparedness (what the hell did she need candles for?), she moved through the darkness as her German Shepard bounded around her feet for a moment in the excitement of a suddenly changed atmosphere.

"Sit! Sit, you little dumbass," she whispered at him, hands held out in front of her as she did her best to keep her heart rate down. Jack came to a halt at her side, sitting obediently, and she wound cautious fingers into his collar. A knock came at the door, and since Charlie didn't know who it could be. Using Jack as a guide, she found her way to the door - the spyhole proved useless for more than a bare outline of a figure, but the visitor was only the concierge. Charlie followed him to the lobby, wondering how many others she'd have to deal with. The first to come to sight was another woman who looked (and smelled)fresh from a bath.

Bringing Jack to standstill closer to the concierge's counter, the dog seemed to be the only source of noise in the quiet lobby as his tongue lolled out of his mouth. Charlie almost found it obnoxious, except that he was keeping her nerves from freaking out.

"The fuck do I pay this place for, considering the price tag, can't even keep the lights going?" Her voice wasn't as quiet as she intended, but her inner volume control had been broken for some time. Almost like forever.

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[info]full_of_stars
2011-06-01 05:17 am UTC (link)
At the sound of the new arrivals, Cat's eyes immediately flicked toward toward them. She bit her lip against a bit of a smile at the woman's complaint - much more ardent than her own, but not entirely unfounded. For a moment, she watched, leaning against the concierge's desk - but only a moment. Then, she shifted, moving toward the newcomer and her canine companion.

"Strange for them to have skimped on things like electricity and the elevator for such a posh building, no?" she said with good humor as she approached, bending just a bit to offer the dog the opportunity to sniff her hand when she arrived. "But at least there's the beach."

Her accent was distinctly southern English, but there was a very subtle lilt to it that suggested something a bit more Mediterranean.

"Catherine St. Giles," she said with a smile, offering her hand to the other woman for a shake. "Though please, call me Cat."

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[info]eristic
2011-06-01 05:28 am UTC (link)
"Charlie," she offered in response, almost without thinking.

She hadn't meant to offer an invitation by speaking out loud; Jack's head swiveled toward the new comer, jerking a bit at his collar to get in range for a better sniff; she wound both hands into his bright red collar, keeping a good hold on him and silently berating herself for forgetting his lead. Charlie glanced at the hand, then back up to its owner's face, her expression bordering on anger.

"And if I wanted to live in a pitch-black cave, I'm sure there's beach property that offers just that for the low, low rate of nothing, except watching out for high tide," she added, using her hold on Jack as an excuse to ignore the offered handshake.

The accent was a little intriguing, though the only part of it that Charlie could place was the English bit. Even though she had absolutely no reason to be rude to this woman, Charlie never gave up an opportunity for confrontation.

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(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-02 01:19 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-02 02:09 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-03 04:32 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-03 02:17 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-04 02:26 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-04 04:04 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-05 02:42 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-05 05:22 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-06 04:58 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-07 03:54 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-07 12:12 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-08 01:57 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-08 03:47 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-08 04:19 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-12 06:07 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-13 12:48 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-18 05:57 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-19 04:40 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-20 03:36 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-20 09:29 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]the__dark__one, 2011-06-20 11:56 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-22 01:59 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]eristic, 2011-06-24 05:33 pm UTC

[info]inclinedfear
2011-06-01 05:38 am UTC (link)
Rylee did not approve of the loss of electric. It had been a rather peaceful evening at home when the lights had suddenly dimmed then went out completely. He had been reading through a list of Gettysburg diaries, lounging in jeans and one of his old USMC t-shirts when his apartment went dark. Immediately he felt his anxiety begin to climb and a trickle of sweat appear on his brow. He wasn't really afraid of the dark but he certainly didn't like it.

Tripping over some boxes that hadn't been unpacked Rylee fumbled his way to his emergency drawer in his kitchen. Some people had junk drawers; Rylee had an emergency drawer. "Where's my moonbeam," he muttered to himself as he dug around in search of his flashlight. The knock from the concierge came just as he landed a hand on the it.

Instead of sitting in his apartment worrying over the darkness and how it was incredibly dangerous (one could trip over something and hurt themselves, after all) Rylee opted to go down to the lobby with hope that someone would have an idea of emergency plans for such a situation. Or maybe they just needed people with flashlights. He had that covered, at least.

As Rylee entered the lobby he let out a short breath and lingered against the wall. No confidence, just like usual, he was still very new to Pax and was feeling shy in socializing.

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[info]arkhospheleteon
2011-06-01 01:08 pm UTC (link)
Darkness rarely bothered Philip. In his childhood, it had - as it had done for many youths - occasionally frightened him, and given ample opportunity for an inventive mind to conjure all variations of vicious creatures lying in wait beneath its cloak of pitch black. But adulthood had at least provided a more balanced perspective, and these sorts of wild flights of fancies, while not entirely absent from someone who had not turned his back on the infinite canvas of imagination, were met more often by an excited thrill than paralyzing fear. Experience had taught Philip that darkness could be a friend, a useful ally to be rallied to his aid when he was in need of cover. (It did as well to hide him as it might hide others). There had been many occasions in his recent past that had relied heavily upon shadows, dancing in and out of ones cast by tall buildings, hard corners, and lamp-less rooms. It was all for the best that he had grown accustomed to such things when his current residence lacked electricity entirely, and he was used to nights that plunged him into blinding obscurity once the sun crept beyond the horizon.

Philip likely would not have noticed any difference that evening had he not been a restless sort, driven by a gnawing hunger not sated by the half of a sandwich and bag of chips he'd stolen from a local gas station, and wandered beyond his apartment door. It was then that he noticed the hallway lights were absent, and his senses flared to greater life as he perked up alert and listening at the threshold. His eyes adjusted, though it remained difficult to see anything with only the anemic glow of starlight from his own unshielded windows trickling into the corridor. But it was enough to gather that this blackout extended beyond a burnt out bulb. Pausing only long enough to orient himself, Philip set out to explore the building, giving into a burst of curiosity.

It was fair to say Philip possessed a certain knack for navigating the maze of unlit halls and stairwells even without a flashlight. His need to always know the exact positioning of a quick escape had meant careful study of his surroundings, and his memory was especially sound in recalling the particular layout of his home building. He made good use of employing touch and hearing, though it was not to say he never stumbled once, but it was an impressive if not a typically useless skill to have. Philip observed nothing out of the ordinary on his way down the steps, and at last found himself by the lobby, which was a comforting location to be as it was ground level and had a particularly easy means of accessing freedom if anything was amiss. The more sizable windows were also a benefit, though the usual lighting outside had also fallen too darkness, but there was still the softer, silvery glow of distant moonlight, and the far off glow of neighboring buildings. Philip felt his brow furrow in unspoken questioning. Was the power failure limited to Pax alone?

Yet, he found at least he had company there as he was not the only one to arrive in the lobby, another man by the wall, holding a flashlight. That would have been a useful thing to own, Philip supposed, and yet, he didn't entirely begrudge his lack of one. A bright glowing light also made you entirely too noticeable. An easy smile slid to his lips as he made his approach, which was perhaps at first glance a little too open and trusting a gesture for a perfect stranger in the middle of unconventional circumstances, but Philip was careful to stop just shy of arms reach. In the back of his mind, he'd already judged the distance and direction to the exit doors.

"Say, do you know how long these lights have been out?" Philip asked as though he were commenting on nothing odder than an unexpected rainfall. "That elevator here has always been a finicky rascal, but you know, the rest of this place has always run fairly smooth." He'd have to take a proper look at that elevator one day, but Philip was prone to forget it, when he wasn't particularly partial to small, enclosed spaces that didn't offer much liberty on choosing exactly when you could get out.

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[info]inclinedfear
2011-06-01 03:20 pm UTC (link)
Rylee had attempted to look relaxed by leaning back against the wall. However, if anyone knew him, they would see the tension in his broad shoulders and the nervous glances he made around the room. He kept the flashlight pointed to the ground, not wanting to be rude and flashing anyone in the face, but despite the low light he could see another man enter the lobby and approach him. When he stopped and spoke, Rylee immediately stood up fully, parting from the wall, and without realizing it he stood at ease. Feet parted, hands behind his back, Rylee looked directly at the man and gave him a nervous smile.

“I would say about twenty minutes? At least I think it took me fifteen minutes to make it down the stairs and I’ve been standing here for a few.” Rylee let out a breath and forced himself to not appear like the nervous mess he usually was. He hated speaking to people he didn’t know but his military training mixed with his mothers need for manners had Rylee going into autopilot when in a situation of talking to someone he didn’t know. He had to be polite, he had to answer the person’s questions, and there was no other way around it. “I only moved in last month, it’s good to know that this place usually runs smoothly.”

Military training that had brainwashed Rylee from acting like a normal civilian had him checking over this man to see if he was a threat in any way or if he was carrying a weapon but his findings came up with nothing that screamed danger, just caution. And that very well might have just been Rylee’s nervous lack of trust in people. He allowed himself to relax a tiny bit, enough to erase the worry line Rylee always had between his eyebrows, and he stood up straighter with a more genuine smile. “My name is Rylee Eckholm. I live on the seventh floor.” He switched the flashlight to his left hand, keeping it tucked behind his back, and produced his right in an offer to shake hands.

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[info]arkhospheleteon
2011-06-01 06:28 pm UTC (link)

"Philip," the other man said, taking the proffered hand without much compunction, his grip firm but fleeting with the simple, sharp squeeze of fingers that were just as suddenly pulled away. His smile had not yet appeared to have faded, perchance because it was the natural inclination of his mouth to curve up at the edges. Still it lingered also in his gaze, the merry gleam of dark green irises as they caught the reflection of the handful of light sources around the room. "You know, I'm from the seventh myself actually so that makes us practically neighbors, doesn't it? It's a shame really that we didn't mean before this, in more ideal circumstances and all that." This stumbled upon connection appeared enough for Philip to shed his previous apprehension, coupled with the very fact that the new resident had greeted him without open hostility. If he had noticed the other man's wary scrutiny, or the hint of strain that had originally been in his posture, Philip did not give it much consideration. He took a step forward, no longer employing that safe boundary he had initial kept with care, and leaned in with conspiratorial fashion as though they had always been life long chums, one hand raised to shield his mouth while he canted his head toward the concierge's counter.

"Now you don't happen to know either of them, do you? They both look nice enough from this angle, but I suppose a person really never knows, do they?" His gaze shifted over toward a pair of girls and a dog, sparing only a split-second glance as though the darkness was not enough to make this action inconspicuous. "Of course," and here Philip seemed to heave a world-weary sigh, partly for effect and partly because this was in fact one of those unfortunate life-lessons he'd learned in childhood. "It does seem like people are always coming and going from this place, and I'll be the first to admit I can't keep track. But that's just life isn't it? One endless merry-go-round, with the faces always changing."

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(no subject) - [info]inclinedfear, 2011-06-01 09:32 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]arkhospheleteon, 2011-06-02 08:47 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]inclinedfear, 2011-06-02 09:50 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]arkhospheleteon, 2011-06-05 04:24 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]inclinedfear, 2011-06-05 05:37 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]arkhospheleteon, 2011-06-08 12:50 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]inclinedfear, 2011-06-08 04:53 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]arkhospheleteon, 2011-06-14 01:56 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]inclinedfear, 2011-06-14 03:34 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]arkhospheleteon, 2011-06-19 12:20 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]inclinedfear, 2011-06-25 02:31 am UTC

[info]giventohel
2011-06-01 02:51 pm UTC (link)
Viola did not enjoy the unexpected. In her desired profession, flexibility was something of a necessity, and yet, she would have been lying to say it no longer bothered her. Although she accepted it, doggedly bulldozing through the inconvenience, the frustration always niggled at the back of her thoughts to have to readjust her schedule, to occasionally even re-frame her entire perspective. She cared for it even less when such occurrences happened outside her workplace. Her day, as it always was, had been meticulously carved up into balanced portions of work, socialization, chores, errands, and relaxation. It was often purely in that single hour she slated out for free time that she truly had a chance to sit down, allowing the many aches built up by a day spent on her feet and on the go finally roll off her as she settled down on the couch to read. Her contacts had been exchanged in place of glasses, her skirt and blouse replaced by cotton pants and a t-shirt, a scientific journal was spread across her lap, and then the lights had gone out completely.

Reading was put off, and instead she sought out the circuit breaker, checking it as best as her limited knowledge of such things allowed, before at last she resigned herself to locating a flashlight, counting the number of candles in her collection, and setting them out on an easily accessible space with a nearby set of matches. If required, she could make due, but Viola decided it was best to figure out if she was an isolated case, exiting her apartment to seek out her neighbors. She took a spare flashlight just in case she stumbled upon someone without one. It was probably a good idea just to make certain everyone was all right. Names fluttered to the forefront of her mind as she saw that the entire building appeared to be without electricity: Adam, who was perhaps her closest friend in the building, and then with a rather unwanted, fluttery sensation in her stomach, Samuel. She preferred not to dwell too longer on the latter, as she had still yet to truly understand exactly what it could embody. That February evening she'd run into him had filled her with the most baffling emotions, potent and compelling, and while that strength of response had never been replicated upon subsequent glances and hallway run-ins, she felt convinced something must have been there. The man still inspired a feeling in her beyond the pure apathy she ought to feel for someone she barely knew, even if it had grown more muted and increasingly confusing since that day. In truth, she had spent more time mulling over it and him than she cared to admit. She was troubled to find her own mind suddenly so uncharacteristically unpredictable, so riddled by inconsistency, when she had never been someone prone to mood swings, whims, or flights of fancy.

Putting such musings out of her thoughts, she forced herself to focus on the situation at hand, pointing the bleaching white beam of light toward the opposite wall as she made her way to the stairs. Her mind was busied with listing out simple tasks that sufficiently dealt with the sudden loss of power. She would listen for any sign of trouble, help where she could, check up on her friends, and seek out someone who could adequately inform her about what was going on.

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[info]jormungandr
2011-06-02 12:15 am UTC (link)
Adam, dragging tiredly in from a laborious mid shift, did not immediately notice the change in his home. Instead his attention rested on a series of ragged, shallow wounds lining the back of his pale right hand, a memento left by a thoroughly intoxicated patient further addled in a car crash. At the hospital he had foregone a bandage, knowing well he risked no infection, more eager to get home and into a scalding hot shower than to keep up the appearance of concern. Now his narrow jeans were stained with drying blood, his T-shirt clinging to him with the faint sheen of sweat.

Thus distracted, when at last he glanced up from his musings it took Adam a moment to properly get his bearings. The lobby hummed with a sense of wrongness. Cloaked in darkness, the typically dead lobby had more than its share of visitors now. Lit only by the white glare of flashlights and the hollow glow of street lamps, it looked oddly unwelcoming – a familiar place, somehow turned dangerous. In a fortunate turn he noticed a friend among the assembled company, someone he had gone too long without visiting again. Of all of the gathered tenants she was most likely to be prepared, to be informed as to the nature and severity of the apparent outage.

“What’s all this?” he said, one tattooed arm lifting to indicate the entirety of their situation. “Evacuation drill?”

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]giventohel
2011-06-02 08:49 pm UTC (link)
"Nothing so dire," Viola replied, yet there was a gravity given to the response that implied she nevertheless considered the situation a matter to be looked upon seriously. A hint of flush colored her face from her recent trek down almost ten flights of stairs, but given that the journey was being made downward rather than upward, and that Viola was someone of tolerably good shape, she was neither out of breath nor broken out into a sweat from the effort. "I did manage a short conversation with the concierge before I arrived here, but I'm afraid even he wasn't particularly knowledgeable, other than to say the whole building's out," she shared the little knowledge that she had managed to gather in concise but informative phrases. "He did sound a little concerned that the emergency power hadn't come on, but I suppose we won't know more until a proper expert takes a look at things. At least, it's reassuring to know he's making certain no one is in need of assistance."

It was the silver-lining on this evening's inconvenient turn to know that the apartment had employed such consideration into their policy. There were no doubt many places that would have been content to leave their tenants in the dark, both literally and figuratively, only offering assistance or explanation when sought out. With one hand raised, she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, righting them against her face as she offered her friend a smile. It was only upon having finished her report, that she felt her relief to see him, and then the twist of concern when she had a longer opportunity to study his appearance under the harsh glare of her flashlight.

"Why Adam, what happened?" Her tone was one of concern rather than accusation as she gingerly took hold of his injured arm with her free hand, careful to avoid the grooves of scratched flesh with her fingertips as she gave it quick examination. The act was more to satisfy her own curiosity than to provide any medical assessment for him. She believed Adam to be far too well-versed in his line of work to misjudge the severity of his injuries, and thus the image of broken skin, those glaring lines of red, aggravated tissue, and smears of blood across fabric shifted her response past startled into what her sister had occasionally deemed a rather disturbing fascination.

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(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-06-03 02:24 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]giventohel, 2011-06-05 11:39 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-06-08 01:28 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]giventohel, 2011-06-14 01:58 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-06-17 01:31 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]giventohel, 2011-06-20 01:20 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-06-22 02:01 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]giventohel, 2011-06-23 01:15 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-06-25 02:55 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]giventohel, 2011-06-27 10:24 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-07-01 09:55 pm UTC

[info]sheltering_sky
2011-06-02 05:01 pm UTC (link)

In the blackness Karin awakened: Not as others had, summoned to alertness by the failure of the lights, or by the concierge’s service-minded banging at the door. It was the smell that roused her from her seat, a scent like the aftermath of lightning, electricity ripping open the skies.

She had been napping. Work had gone smoothly – only a single, minor stabbing, one overdose, and a handful of car wrecks – and Karin had been left with enough energy to spend the rest of the day on herself. She had run through the thick sand of the beach until her calves felt fit to burst, come away from jiu jitsu with a wealth of fresh bruises and happily tousled hair, and washed all that mess away with an hour’s set of laps in the apartment’s sizable pool. She had been exhausted in the most perfect, fulfilling of senses. And now she was terribly, violently awake.

For a moment she feared her apartment was ablaze, though reason soon took hold and curbed that baseless concern. Her brow furrowed as confusion settled deeply over her. Forcing such helplessness aside she resolved to find the source of this problem, to handle it, if need be. She reached out to her end table, feeling around in its shallow drawer. Her fumbling fingers found matches, but no flashlight; she cursed herself for her carelessness, rising from her couch. With slow, deliberate steps she made her way to the door, toeing on a pair of flip-flops. She heard voices down the hall, muffled, but carrying from the lobby beyond. Had there been a fire?

She checked her pocket, reassuring herself of her cell phone’s presence, wondering if she should call Fiona or simply scour the lobby for her. Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding as she plucked her keys from their rack, locking the door behind her as she sought the solace – and perhaps the insight – of the gathering crowd.

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[info]ladyofaralu
2011-06-03 05:07 am UTC (link)
Because Fiona had the same apartment as Karin, just two floors up, the stairwell she'd taken to the first floor conveniently let out just as close to her sister's place. The hours Fiona kept had her just coming into full energy around this time. Her television had been on, muted, with Tarsem Singh's The Fall playing on it, her computer speakers playing "A Kiss with a Fist" at what was probably edging on an unreasonable volume, and she'd been at her third-hand drafting table, doodling something that might have come to something else when the room descended into silence and darkness.

Of course, this was followed shortly by expletives and Fee stubbing her toe violently on said drafting table.

Finding her shoes was a bitch, and even though they were ruby-sequined ballet flats they still hurt her toe, but they were the first pair she found, and, she noted, they added something she liked to her black leggings and oversized, off-the-shoulder grey top. They were what she would have chosen anyway, since the bra strap the shirt prominently displayed was bright red and so the large, fake gems in her stud earrings. So in a way, it was serendipitous.

But her toe still hurt like a bitch.

This temporary setback, however, was soon forgotten when the concierge's arrival with his Christamighty mini-white-dwarf flashlight allowed her to grab her coffee and her bag (wallet, cigarettes, lighter, keys - the necessary elements for most successful ventures), which had let her finally get downstairs.

She grinned when she saw her sister's silhouette walking toward the lobby, and padded quickly and quietly behind her until they were almost at the lobby, at which point she grabbed her sides and exclaimed,

"BAM!"

Which Fee thought was a lot more scary to hear out of nowhere than "Boo."

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[info]sheltering_sky
2011-06-03 02:39 pm UTC (link)
“Shit.”

Karin started, turning on her heel, the sharp points of her keys jutting out toward her apparent attacker. Just as quickly the tension bled from her body, a wave of relief suffusing her limbs, loosing her white-knuckle grip from her key ring. “Fee, what is wrong with you,” she laughed. “I could’ve put your eye out.”

In spite of her gruffness she was pleased to see her sister, the willowy silhouette of her slowly coming into focus as Karin’s eyes adjusted. She smiled at the sight of her: dressed to the nines, looking more ready to go on a casual, flirtatious date than to attend a sort of evacuation of their entire building. Karin looked down to her own unflattering attire, her gym shorts and aging tee shirt hanging awkwardly on her sleep-slouched frame. She started to make a joke, some snide remark about the dangers of dating fellow tenants, future exes one would have to walk past every day. But another thought struck her, guiding her wholly on a different path.

“Do you smell that?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “Is there a fire up there?”

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(no subject) - [info]ladyofaralu, 2011-06-04 02:34 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sheltering_sky, 2011-06-04 01:58 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]ladyofaralu, 2011-06-05 02:58 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sheltering_sky, 2011-06-08 01:47 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ladyofaralu, 2011-06-08 03:56 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sheltering_sky, 2011-06-12 05:59 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ladyofaralu, 2011-06-12 07:00 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sheltering_sky, 2011-06-16 02:47 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ladyofaralu, 2011-06-18 06:40 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]sheltering_sky, 2011-06-19 04:19 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ladyofaralu, 2011-06-21 03:35 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sheltering_sky, 2011-06-23 01:48 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]ladyofaralu, 2011-06-26 04:49 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]sheltering_sky, 2011-07-01 02:44 am UTC

[info]manen
2011-06-08 05:23 pm UTC (link)
Max had strolled into his and Lil's new apartment complex just a little after seven, having finally been released from evening classes. The later ones went until nine, but none of them fulfilled the requirements for his major, so instead he was stuck trying to stay awake through dull lectures through the semi-daylight hours. Once he'd hopped on the bus back to Pax, though, the sun was setting and he was already starting to feel a little more awake - by the time he'd gotten home, he felt energized, as he always had once nighttime rolled in. He'd warily boarded the elevator and gone up to the sixth floor, letting himself in with his own key, and plopped his backpack down on the first available surface (which was the couch, and leaving it there would undoubtedly antagonize Lil later on if he chose to leave it there); he grabbed a snack from the kitchen (a pack of twizzlers he'd managed to hide from Lil's nutritionist eyes) and then headed to his bedroom to boot up Gears of War 2.

He'd been happily playing it for a little less than two hours when suddenly everything went dead. The lights, the screen, his playstation - buttons were pressed in rapid succession, wires checked, outlets observed, but everything seemed all right from first appearances; whether there would be any leftover damage from electrical overcharge couldn't be discovered until he regained a source of power. Max's next move was to test the room's light switch, which gave him a similar answer as his gaming machine. Picking up a toy light saber, he flicked it open with a twitch of his wrist and started to explore the apartment with its green illumination. He finally came to the satisfying conclusion that the power was completely out, and for a moment wondered if his numerous consoles and over-rigged PC had blown a circuit. He'd been just about to go and check on Lilian when a knock at the door provided him with a few more answers. It was the concierge, explaining that there was some kind of massive power failure in both the regular and the backup. He and Lil would have to head down to the lobby, just for their own safety.

Continuing to use the light saber to its fullest ability, Max moved slowly back through the apartment and to Lil's room, finding his sister dead to the world and tucked deeply into the covers of her bed. A hand to her shoulder did nothing, as he assumed, and he started in on his chant that he'd done even as a child to rouse his sister from her deep slumber, combining it with the shaking. "Lil Lil Lil Lil Lil Lil Lil Lil..."

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[info]solsken
2011-06-08 05:40 pm UTC (link)
Unlike her brother, Lily was the furthest thing from a night owl. She enjoyed going to bed early and rising early and it was necessary seeing that she taught a early morning yoga class. Lily could sluggishly stay up in the evening but even then she was relatively lifeless, sometimes cranky, and it took awhile to get her to really begin to act like a normal person. She had already been falling asleep when she heard Max enter the apartment. Good, her brother was home and safe, now all she had to do was fall asleep.

That wasn't a problem either, Lily was happily resting with no weird nightmares to speak of when she heard a faint call. She ignored it and rolled over but then felt her body shaking, the call getting louder and more insistent. "No," Lily grumbled into her pillow, wrapping her arms around it and holding onto it tightly. But the call continued and so did the shaking until finally Lily's brain made a spark of recognition. Max was calling for her.

She had to fight off the urge to continue sleeping and opened her eyes to the glow of... a green light saber? Yeah, it was definitely her brother trying to wake her up. "What Max? What's wrong?" she grumbled as she sat up in her bed with her curly hair a tousled mess.

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[info]manen
2011-06-08 10:11 pm UTC (link)
"The power's gone out. We're supposed to go down to the lobby," he answered, swapping the light saber from one hand to the other so that the subtle green light was somewhat on her face.

"I guess I could ask if you could stay here, but maybe they want to do a head count or something? Come on, I'm sure it's just a courtesy thing. Do you think you can make it down the stairs?" His voice was hushed, a general tone he'd adopted for his night time hours since others were usually sleeping. "'Cause since the power is out, the elevator is down. Obviously."

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(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-08 10:27 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]manen, 2011-06-08 10:35 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-08 10:49 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]manen, 2011-06-08 11:00 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-08 11:36 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]manen, 2011-06-10 06:05 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-10 06:39 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]manen, 2011-06-10 06:49 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-10 07:14 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]manen, 2011-06-11 07:50 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-11 07:28 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]manen, 2011-06-13 01:54 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-13 09:32 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]manen, 2011-06-17 12:23 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]solsken, 2011-06-17 03:39 am UTC

[info]pahana
2011-06-10 03:49 am UTC (link)
Joaquin had been quite enjoying his night off, free from the anxiety and stress that came with teaching. It wasn't exactly his dream job to have to talk so much to earn a living, but until he was making enough from just painting, it would have to do. He reasoned that even if it wasn't the most enjoyable thing for him, it could help him become more social, and maybe he'd come to enjoy it. Besides, it was better than his other options: waiter, customer service, asking his parents for more rent money. The night off was still quite welcome, and he'd set himself up for a lovely, relaxing evening. Fresh out of the shower he'd put on a record, Simon and Garfunkel's Bookends, and had been looking through his photo albums on his laptop to try and find something he wanted to paint. He often painted from photos he'd taken over the years, whenever he got tired of painting ocean and beaches and palm trees. He'd finally settled on something to take inspiration from, an old ghost town he'd found while exploring New Mexico one summer.

He was about to get up from his desk when he found that the only light in the room was that coming from his laptop. With a sigh, he rolled his eyes. Really? He waited a beat before sliding out of his chair, heading to the door and peeking out into the hall. No light in the hall, none peeking out from under anyone's door. If he'd had candles, he might have just said fuck it and painted by candlelight, but being that he'd just moved in there were a lot of things in the "I'll get these later when I don't have to buy a couch" category, including candles. And a flashlight, for that matter. So, picking up his MacBook from his desk he slipped into a pair of sandals and grabbed his keys, using the computer screen as a makeshift flashlight as he headed into the hall.

Not that Joaquin was afraid of the dark, but the place was pretty damn creepy with all the lights out, especially in the stairway. He felt a little silly holding out his computer in front of him to guide his way, but he'd rather have that than the pitch-black. His room? Sure, he could navigate that in the dark, but the entire building? Probably not. The power couldn't be out for that long, anyway.

As he arrived in the dark lobby, cradling his computer in his arms so the light from it shone on his face, he glanced around at the others who had arrived already, then quickly looked away. Since moving in he'd hardly said a word to anyone, maybe a short greeting if he ran into someone in the elevator or the hall, but he wasn't sure he could name anyone he saw there.

"Great," he murmured to himself.

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[info]urdr
2011-06-10 09:10 pm UTC (link)
All she wanted was to come home and play.

It had been a long, long day of frustrations. Dead-ends in her research, a new department head who seemed to hate all the PhD candidates, especially her, and teaching a summer class that seemed to be trying to kill her with their obtuseness. After spending the semester studying at Cambridge with one of the most brilliant social psychologists she'd ever worked with, her eyes seemed to cross at being back in SoCal. She almost hadn't wanted to come home, but exactly two things provided her some solace: Adam and her piano.

As she parked her car and saw every light in the building suspiciously off, she groaned silently to herself. When she saw beams of light flashing around the foyer, she sighed. The only thing to do was to go inside and try to find out what happened. It was difficult to make out anything, even in the darkened lobby. Adam was still on his shift, she thought, and so she wandered toward a dark corner illuminated by the glow of someone's laptop.

It was difficult. She couldn't quite tell who anyone was, but she thought she recognized the young man whose face the laptop was lighting up; though she'd only just moved back in a few weeks ago, she was certain he was her new neighbor. Feeling a bit awkward, she approached and said, "Hi..."

She cleared her throat and hefted her messenger bag, adjusting its weight on her shoulder.

"Erm... blackout?"

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[info]pahana
2011-06-10 09:48 pm UTC (link)
Joaquin wasn't good at this whole socializing thing yet. Rather than approaching anyone to ask if they knew what was happening or when the power would be back on, he kept his distance, wiggling his toes in his sandals and chewing his lip. When he saw the young woman walking toward him, he could feel his heart pound in his chest, praying to no one in particular that he wouldn't make a complete ass of himself. He shifted uncomfortably in place, blue eyes darting around as he tried to act like he hadn't quite seen her until she approached and began to speak.

"Oh, uh, hi." He recognized her once he got a better look at her, though her face didn't quite look the same when it was only illuminated by the light of the computer screen. He'd seen her on his floor, one of his neighbors, no doubt. The neighbors he'd promised his mother that he'd actually socialize with but hadn't exactly gotten around to it. Not that he couldn't have- he'd had plenty of opportunities, but his nature just didn't quite lend to introducing himself when he told himself I'd better get going, I have to work on this painting or whatever his latest excuse was to keep quiet.

Forcing an uncomfortable smile, he nodded, sighing.

"Yeah, um, maybe ten minutes ago. Not sure when we'll have power back, either..."

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(no subject) - [info]urdr, 2011-06-12 06:52 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]pahana, 2011-06-13 04:23 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]urdr, 2011-06-18 06:30 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]pahana, 2011-06-18 07:06 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]urdr, 2011-06-20 03:43 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]pahana, 2011-06-20 06:25 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]urdr, 2011-06-21 03:25 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]pahana, 2011-06-21 04:24 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]urdr, 2011-06-22 02:13 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]pahana, 2011-06-22 04:08 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]urdr, 2011-06-26 04:43 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]pahana, 2011-06-26 05:01 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-07-01 09:54 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]pahana, 2011-07-03 08:14 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]urdr, 2011-07-04 12:08 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]giventohel, 2011-07-07 12:54 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]jormungandr, 2011-07-09 06:35 pm UTC

[info]the__dark__one
2011-06-17 04:18 am UTC (link)
It wasn't hard to notice -- the lights to his apartment building were off completely. Odd; the rest of the lights on the street were still on. Was it deliberate? Elias rolled up the windows of his 2009 Honda Accord, stepped out, and set the car alarm with a backward-pointing click as he walked toward the entryway to his new apartment home. He'd finished unpacking a day ago, and there already seemed to be electrical problems. Disconcerting.

But it wasn't all negative news, really. He preferred it dark, and absolute darkness was more than preferential; it was downright soothing. His mother had called him a strange little boy. These days, she was doing well to remember him at all. He would have been pleased to hear from her, on this day, that he was still a strange little boy. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly in a smile that was more resigned than fond. He loved his mother -- but his mother was leaving herself behind. More often than not, all that was visible was the shell of a body that she still carried. She hadn't remembered him today. Yes, a dark building would be a comfort.

As he entered the building, however, the chatter of residents set him immediately on edge. Why were they all downsta... Of course. Some people found it uncomfortable to be alone in the dark in their apartments. Elias ground his teeth together and headed to the mailboxes. His vision was already very sharp in the dark but tonight he used his phone to light the way. Thumbing on the 4.3 inch display, he turned his phone face down and let it shine on the floor. It wasn't hard to find his mailbox, and after tucking his mail under his arm, he stopped before entering the lobby. The elevators were across that lobby, and with the lights off like this, the elevators themselves were probably down as well. The stairwell was right across the throng of gathered people. None of them were familiar. Then, even with his excellent night vision, he would have difficulty recognizing anyone.

He took a breath. He would have to go through them. At this very moment, all Elias wanted to do was sit down at his desk and write his mind clean before turning in. He didn't want to deal with people. He didn't even want to be close to them. Everything was setting him on edge, and the knowledge that his mood was dark because his mother was in a state of steep decline didn't stop his mood from being dark. It was what it was. He accepted that. But he would have paid someone to build a path where he would have no chance of running into anyone while heading to his apartment. But that was no option. And he was twice the fool for even thinking it.

Head down, he started through the throng. The faster he did it, the faster he'd get to room 202. But about halfway through the darkened room, phone still lighting his steps, a voice caught his attention. He didn't know the voice. He would have recognized it anywhere if he had ever heard it before this very moment. He didn't know it, but he felt like he should. It was delicate, cool, melodic, and wretchedly compelling. His steps slowed, despite himself.

"Did you know him from before you moved here?" it said. Simple words. Nothing intrinsically captivating about them. And yet, his feet seemed to have grown roots straight through the carpet and foundation of the building. Slowly, Elias turned off the display to his phone. Even slower, as if he were moving against his very will, he stepped backward and sat down on the bench he'd just passed. He didn't want to be here... But that voice. That voice.

He didn't want to be here... but now he couldn't leave.

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[info]the__dark__one
2011-06-26 04:09 am UTC (link)
((moved here and then below)

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[info]the__dark__one
2011-06-26 04:08 am UTC (link)
Although the room was still bathed in warm darkness (and Elias knew this to be truth), his own vision filled and emptied and filled again with pitiless, unsparing light -- bright and violent in its undulating wrongness. He refused to relinquish hold on the events around himself, but he couldn't see them. For once, for once, he couldn't see in the darkness. But he heard her between cracks in the light. And when her hand set itself, butterfly-light but commanding, on his arm, he had the sense of being grounded strongly by some force stronger even than the light that had all but incapacitated him.

His hand came up in a movement that could have clasped the hand on his arm -- but stopped short. He felt the heat of her radiating off her skin and and hitting his palm, and that was enough for now. Enough to hold to. He knew better than to touch her - her, a complete stranger, no matter how compelling she was.

And now, after each burst of light, between the shards in his head, he saw... something. He couldn't name it. He had never seen its shape. But he would never, ever forget it now. Was it responsible for the light, the pain? Was it an attack? Was it attacking this woman Charlie as well? He couldn't focus his eyes; the light was blinding, even when it faded -- and now the something appeared in the spaces between the brightness. He should be seeing the floor of the lobby. He was seeing a different floor. A different shape. What was it?

And then he heard the sound of clicking - dog claws on the floor - and the sound of Charlie all but fleeing. Whatever it was -- whether she suffered from the same thing as Elias himself or whether it was a different malady -- she should not be left to her own devices.

"We should follow her," he said to the nameless she warming his palm and his arm with her touch. His voice was difficult to use. It sounded strangled. It felt worse. But he knew what he must do -- what they must do. It meant breaking away from her... He hesitated, just for a second, then as the light faded and the strange image -- a beast, it had to have been, some sort of beast -- played itself in his sight again, he stepped in the direction he had heard Charlie take. When he felt her hand drop from his arm, something twisted his stomach.

And then that strange twist was forgotten in another stabbing wash of pain. It was far worse than the migraines he'd been getting lately. It buckled his knees. But his thoughts were calm. Methodical. He'd detached from the pain. It was. But it would not stop him. He gave no thought to the oddness of his drive to ensure that this stranger, this Charlie, was safe. It was, as well. His hand snaked out and blindly caught the back of the bench where he'd been sitting. He pushed himself back up to his feet. "We shouldn't let her--"

And then he sealed his lips again, because the next thing out of them would not have been words. His throat made a dry clicking sound and the tendons in his right hand creaked as he clutched the back of the bench.

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[info]full_of_stars
2011-06-26 06:01 am UTC (link)
"We should," she said, moving back to him, taking his hands and pushing him gently toward the bench. The compulsion she felt to simply touch him was overwhelming. Everything about him was more than familiar to the point where every moment engulfed her in some strange sense of deja vu. For the moment, she pushed this aside, tugging him toward the bench to sit down even as she took a seat herself. There was still a niggling desire to do just as he suggested -- to follow Charlie to her apartment and ensure that she was all right. But the thought was dismissed -- had to be dismissed, for sanity's sake. Who followed a stranger to her home when the person had made it entirely clear that she did not want help, even if she needed it. She did notice, however, the figure Charlie had said she'd known following the younger woman, and felt somewhat satisfied by it.

"She'll be fine," she told her new companion. "Her friend has gone to take care of her, I believe."

Now that they were both seated, there was no reason to try to steady him, to maintain contact. Even so, she reached for his hand and took it in hers.

"Are you all right?" she asked, the pang of concern she felt for him sharp and clear. "Do you need help getting back to your room?"

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[info]the__dark__one
2011-06-26 06:55 am UTC (link)
Every muscle strained with the attempt to contain and manage the driving, beating pain, to remain silent, to prevent from raising further discomfort in the single most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. Awkward and lurching and wholly devoid of grace, Elias let her hands guide him forward, then around. And he would have laughed, had he been able, when he realized where they'd ended -- he'd just left this bench minutes ago. To come to her. To come to herand hercompanion. They shouldn't just be sitting here, they should be following...

But before he could protest, he heard something about Charlie's friend.... And then even her words were lost. The light was screaming at him. Pulses of it, streams of wordless violence. Blinding, deafening. He tried. He tried to stay with his surroundings. Tried to keep from being drawn into whatever wretchedness was taking over his senses. But it was a struggle now to remain above it, to stay detached, to continue thinking through it, when all his world was turning white, with cracks that showed in its darkest places a creature -- a thing -- a beast he did not know how to name.

And then it lessened. The breath he hadn't known he'd been holding seeped through his teeth as quietly as he could release it. He did not want to frighten her away. "Who are you?" he asked, and his voice sounded as jagged as his sight. He took a shallow, careful breath, afraid to move -- not because he feared movement would trigger another bout of light and pain, but because she was holding his hand. It felt... He'd forgotten what it felt like to have a woman's hand clasping his own. Dizzying. Or was that the aftermath of these strange attacks?

His muscles were beginning to relax again. She'd asked him something else, hadn't she? But he couldn't remember, couldn't rightly recall what it was... He'd heard her speaking, but it had sounded so far away. He took another careful breath.

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(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-26 05:32 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]the__dark__one, 2011-06-27 06:01 pm UTC
(no subject) - [info]full_of_stars, 2011-06-29 03:58 am UTC
(no subject) - [info]the__dark__one, 2011-06-30 01:31 am UTC

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