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Shannon Rutherford (ballerinadreams) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

The drinking hadn't done much other than give Shannon a stomach ache and things weren't feeling any better. She'd decided she needed to be alone - completely alone - with her thoughts and maybe if she had the luxury of actually mulling things over and letting them process however they might, she could grieve, deal, whatever, and then move on. So, when Sam was awake, she told him she was heading off to the gas station for some more water - huge lie - and she'd see him when she saw him. She still didn't trust him as far as she could probably throw him, but he hadn't hurt her yet, so maybe he wasn't going to. Maybe he wasn't biding his time.

The first place that Shannon could think of that would be almost definitely deserted (now that she was sharing her own secluded building with Sam) was the carnival. It had nothing useful, no real form of shelter, and quite honestly, it was creepy. Creepy, she decided, was a small price to pay.

Curling up in one of the tea cups of the ride bearing the same name, Shannon pulled out her journal and started writing. The more she wrote, the more unsure about her emotions she felt. The only two clear things to her were that Domeki made her feel better about this place and that Claire maybe wasn't so crazy for always writing in her diary back on the Island. Case in point, if something happened to Shannon like it had to Claire and she disappeared only to come back with some kind of fucked up amnesia, at least she'd have some sort of record of whom she trusted and whom she did not. Better than nothing.

The sound of movement in the brush made Shannon tense and turn, shaking. Shouldn't have come out alone. Should've asked Domeki to come along... she thought as someone emerged from the woods, rubbing his eyes and muttering to himself. The words were lost in the breeze but Shannon stood and shoved the journal and pen into her sweater pocket. Looking around for something to use as a weapon, Shannon noticed a loose piece of the metal railing meant to keep people in line and in order while they waited their turns.

Carefully, Shannon got back out of the tea cup and pulled the piece of metal free, holding it tightly in both hands in the same fashion she'd held the two-by-four when Sam had let himself into the museum two nights ago. "Hello?" she called out to the man. It occurred to her that she was the one calling out to him, so she lowered the metal bar, but didn't loosen her grip or put it down. She'd raise it again if she needed to, but she thought maybe this guy was another new person...there seemed to be a fair few lately, as rumor had it.