Tara Page (alwaysinthedark) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2017-07-18 17:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 085, tara |
Who: Tara (Narrative)
When: Evening (7 PM-ish)
Where: Craft room
It had been ... a day. From her chat over breakfast, to the discovery of another newcomer, to her trip into town with Noah, to her exploration of the house, and finally her venture to the craft room. She was determined to at least get her sign made if nothing else. It held a taint of permanence though, and that made her stomach roll unpleasantly. Marking her door, declaring her space, it seemed ... like she was admitting something. Not defeat exactly because she planned to some day find a way out ... somehow ... but admitting that for the time being, they held the reins. Which ... they did. And they probably knew how to handle runaway and defiant horses as well as she did. Figuratively speaking, at any rate - though the idea of being a recalcitrant horse amused the part of her that could still be amused after her ... adventure in town. The ride out had been fine, and even the first stop at the clothes store had started out fine. It didn't go so fine though, and if it hadn't been for Ishaan's warning what she'd found there would've hit her harder than it did. As it was, she'd wound up crouched on the floor, fighting tears while clutching Carter's Transformers shirt. Finding her favorite jeans there had unnerved her, but finding her baby brother's shirt there just about undid her. And it was his - it had the tear under the arm where one of the cattle dogs had gotten a little aggressive during their last barbecue of the summer and snapped at his shirt instead of the rib bone he was going to offer. They'd laughed about how he was lucky she hadn't caught his skin ... and now the damn shirt was here. So she'd taken it with her, intending to just ... tuck it into a drawer or something. Or maybe wear it; who knew? There might come a time when that was going to be a coping mechanism. She'd gotten together a pile of other clothes though - things to wear in the house, things to wear to bed, plenty of underwear, a couple bras, and what she could find by way of shoes. She did make sure to get some winter wear as well for time she planned to spend outside. Once she had all that together, she let Noah point out other points of interest. She did venture into the office building to get some pens and paper. While she was sure there was plenty in the house, she wanted her own stash that she wasn't borrowing from others. From there, she asked him to point her at the barrier. She wasn't surprised by his reluctance to do so but it was one of the things she had to feel for herself because people feared the unknown and ideas of things more if they weren't aware of the reality of them. So she wanted to know what the shocks were like to know what to expect in the future. It was as bad as she'd assumed it would be. The zap had sent her reeling back, landing on her ass in the snow, shuddering and gasping and clutching the back of her head. The tears had rolled slowly down her cheeks before she'd been able to let go of the back of her head to wipe them away, but ... now she knew. It was as bad as they'd warned her it would be. When she'd managed to regain her feet, she was more than ready to head back up. So she'd trudged back to the snowmobile and her stash of clothes and pens and paper, and climbed on behind Noah before they returned to the mansion. After hauling her things upstairs, she took her time putting everything away before she'd laid down for a little while. It wasn't a nap, exactly, but a moment or two of simply letting things settle and sort themselves out in her brain. She still couldn't make sense of this place, but she guessed that was the point. If there was sense, a pattern, something they could figure out ... well, someone would. Once she'd felt more or less recovered, she'd set about exploring the house. She peeked into open rooms, roamed up stairs and studied each landing before eventually winding herself into the craft room. Since she hadn't seen anyone inside, she eased in and studied the materials available before she gathered some things together to start crafting a sign for her room. There was still an ache behind her eyes, and her mind was whirling and fluttering around like a wounded bird, but she hoped trying to focus on an art project would help. Maybe by the time she was ready to shower and sleep, she'd have something reasonable to put on her door. To mark her space among the other victims. |