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rhodos_meme2022-08-10 10:12 am
rhodosmods) wrote in rhodos_meme2022-08-10 10:12 am
Entry tags:
TDM #1
TDM #1: AUGUST
Jump to: Arrival · Sound and Light · Into the Fog · Waking Up to a Nightmare · The Bonfire
Summary · Questions
Summary · Questions
The buildings of the plaza are all medieval stone construction, but they all have modern awnings and glass fronts. Tables out front display tourist wares: little plastic statuettes, postcards, t-shirts. Among these, it's easy to identify Greek lettering, Greek gods, photos of Athens and Crete. Predominant among the souvenirs are items marked with the name Rhodos.
But there are no vendors selling their wares. Even if characters wander into the shops, they are all empty as if their owners just stepped away for a moment. Lights are on, and some of the larger and nicer shops even have the whirr of air conditioning. Food stands waft the aroma of freshly grilled kebabs, and a gelato cart is cold to the touch and the ice cream inside is frosty and delicious.
The plaza where you arrive is set on a slope, and the direction of the sea breeze and the faint sound of waves against a shore indicates pretty strongly that down-slope is the direction of the sea. But looking down the slope from the main plaza, you can see an open archway in a tall stone wall, and beyond it is nothing but mist. Despite the clear sunny day in the plaza, the mist is a dense fog with barely three feet of visibility. If you enter it, you can see your own arms in front of you, but nothing beyond that. The breeze has gone still and the waves no longer sound so much like waves--the sound is warped through the mist so that it almost sounds like sobbing. After about five minutes of determined walking across what feels like flat ground with no other landmarks, you find yourself back at the archway.
Housing can easily be scavenged. Doors are unlocked and the interiors are clean and welcoming, beds freshly made, as if it is a hotel that's been prepared for you rather than anyone's personal residence. And yet, once you've settled upon a place to live, you start to find little signs that you have lived here all along. The photographs on the wall (which weren't there when you first arrived) depict you and your family and friends, even if you came from a world without photography. Upon arrival, you have only the clothing you are wearing, but within a day the closet begins to fill with familiar outfits from home, and within the first week you may find up to five of your own possessions around your new residence.
Note: Wardrobe is limited to what you can reasonably fit inside a non-walk-in apartment closet, what your character would reasonably wear and possess in canon, or what can be scavenged around town. There are two very small clothing boutiques where you can find most basics and a few cute outfits. For starting possessions two may be weapons or magical items, but you may have an additional three mundane items. All other personal items can only be obtained through regains or events.
The first few days in your new home are relatively uneventful. The days are hot and sunny and the nights are warm beneath a dazzling starry sky.
After not quite a week, the noises of a spectacle will lead characters to a small gate in one of the outer walls with steps leading down into the outer moat. The fog surrounding the city walls has drawn back for just this one little area, revealing an open air theater butting up against the castle wall. A path leads away from the theater on either side, but if you walk into the mist on either side you will promptly find yourself walking out of the mist on the opposite side, as if you'd circumnavigated the entire moat in just a few steps. Behind the theater is another high stone wall. Centuries of weathering has added rough footholds and handholds, but it would be a dangerous climb without equipment. Trees grow from the top of the wall, sticking limbs out of the wall of mist and clawing roots into the stones at the top, loosening them so that they're ready to slip at a touch.
The play that is projected onto the wall features shadow puppets, colored lights, and canned soundtrack special effects like the clop of horses hooves or the burst of trumpets. There is no dialogue or narration, so the story can only be roughly pieced together: there is a king and a queen, then a betrayal that leads to the king's murder. Later, the king and the queen appear again, participating in a ritual which seems to involve human sacrifice, a war and a triumphal procession, and then another betrayal and the king is murdered again.
The story repeats three times every night before shutting itself off. The first performance starts at twilight, and each repetition lasts about twenty minutes. Characters who watch it repeatedly will get the sense that it's slightly different each time, but the whole thing is complicated and confusing without any narration or dialogue to provide context, so characters will struggle to pin down how it's different. A slide projector is set up at the top of the amphitheater, with a pair of old speakers on either side of it. If slides are removed from the projector, they show only blank, uncolored plastic. If something is placed in front of the projector light, the scene is projected onto that object. The projector can be turned off, unplugged, or smashed. No matter what is done to it, as soon as no one is actively watching it, it is restored to an undamaged status and resumes playing.
After watching an entire repetition of the performance, some characters may be overcome by a fit of weeping. Tears roll down your cheeks and you can't seem to catch your breath. Despair clutches at your heart, colored by your own personal sorrows, and the weeping can only be stopped by receiving an embrace.
Others may find that the performance inspires them to reminisce. No matter how secretive you might normally be, you find yourself turning to whoever is sitting near you and telling them a story from your past, something that makes you nostalgic or regretful.
After not quite a week, the noises of a spectacle will lead characters to a small gate in one of the outer walls with steps leading down into the outer moat. The fog surrounding the city walls has drawn back for just this one little area, revealing an open air theater butting up against the castle wall. A path leads away from the theater on either side, but if you walk into the mist on either side you will promptly find yourself walking out of the mist on the opposite side, as if you'd circumnavigated the entire moat in just a few steps. Behind the theater is another high stone wall. Centuries of weathering has added rough footholds and handholds, but it would be a dangerous climb without equipment. Trees grow from the top of the wall, sticking limbs out of the wall of mist and clawing roots into the stones at the top, loosening them so that they're ready to slip at a touch.
The story repeats three times every night before shutting itself off. The first performance starts at twilight, and each repetition lasts about twenty minutes. Characters who watch it repeatedly will get the sense that it's slightly different each time, but the whole thing is complicated and confusing without any narration or dialogue to provide context, so characters will struggle to pin down how it's different. A slide projector is set up at the top of the amphitheater, with a pair of old speakers on either side of it. If slides are removed from the projector, they show only blank, uncolored plastic. If something is placed in front of the projector light, the scene is projected onto that object. The projector can be turned off, unplugged, or smashed. No matter what is done to it, as soon as no one is actively watching it, it is restored to an undamaged status and resumes playing.
After watching an entire repetition of the performance, some characters may be overcome by a fit of weeping. Tears roll down your cheeks and you can't seem to catch your breath. Despair clutches at your heart, colored by your own personal sorrows, and the weeping can only be stopped by receiving an embrace.
Others may find that the performance inspires them to reminisce. No matter how secretive you might normally be, you find yourself turning to whoever is sitting near you and telling them a story from your past, something that makes you nostalgic or regretful.
CONTENT WARNING: Cruelty and violence against (monster) dogs
After the characters have been in Rhodos for about three weeks, a heavy fog rolls into town. Unlike the mist that surrounds the city, the fog smells of smoke. Visibility is reduced to a mere ten or fifteen feet.
The electricity goes out, and shops are no longer replenished. Food may still be scavenged, but the food in shops and restaurants will slowly rot and may run out. Battery operated items will continue to work as long as the batteries still have a charge. Running water inside the houses continues to work, but it is sluggish and smells stale, leaving an unpleasant film on the skin.
While out on the streets of the town, characters will begin to encounter the monster dogs of Rhodos. The sound of a dragging chain precedes them, and then the hazy outline of a dog comes into view. It's walking oddly, however, with a sort of staggering limp, and the sound of the chain is underlaid by a low, feral growl. Furless gray skin peels away in patches to reveal bloody muscle. The heavy iron collar around the neck is studded with long black screws, the ends of which pierce the skin of the neck. Hazy eyes are clouded with decomposition, and yet that doesn't seem to prevent the dog from making its way straight toward you.
The dogs are not very fast, nor very smart. They can be outpaced at a brisk walk, and they will lose track of any character who gets more than twenty feet away or behind a closed door. But they are vicious. If you get within a few feet, they will lunge at you and attempt to bite. If two or three of them manage to corner you in a blind alley, you could be in real trouble.
In addition to the dogs, characters will begin to catch glimpses of Manifestations, both their own or those of others. At first you might just catch a glimpse of them through a break in the fog, but after a day or two they can be spotted standing outside of apartment windows and staring in. In either case, they will not approach or attack characters unless you're foolish enough to get within six feet of them. Then, they will attack, and they will pursue at a fast walk until they lose track of you in the fog.
After the characters have been in Rhodos for about three weeks, a heavy fog rolls into town. Unlike the mist that surrounds the city, the fog smells of smoke. Visibility is reduced to a mere ten or fifteen feet.
The electricity goes out, and shops are no longer replenished. Food may still be scavenged, but the food in shops and restaurants will slowly rot and may run out. Battery operated items will continue to work as long as the batteries still have a charge. Running water inside the houses continues to work, but it is sluggish and smells stale, leaving an unpleasant film on the skin.
The dogs are not very fast, nor very smart. They can be outpaced at a brisk walk, and they will lose track of any character who gets more than twenty feet away or behind a closed door. But they are vicious. If you get within a few feet, they will lunge at you and attempt to bite. If two or three of them manage to corner you in a blind alley, you could be in real trouble.
In addition to the dogs, characters will begin to catch glimpses of Manifestations, both their own or those of others. At first you might just catch a glimpse of them through a break in the fog, but after a day or two they can be spotted standing outside of apartment windows and staring in. In either case, they will not approach or attack characters unless you're foolish enough to get within six feet of them. Then, they will attack, and they will pursue at a fast walk until they lose track of you in the fog.
CONTENT WARNING: Blood imagery
On the 28th, characters are awakened by the sound of their front doors being smashed in. It's your own smashing door that awakens you, but you can hear more distant sounds of destruction from the other apartments nearby.
As you scramble out of your bed, you find that the homey, quilted bedding has been soaked through with blood, and it's sagging in the middle with the outline of a human body. But before you have a chance to properly react to that horror, your Manifestation is coming through your bedroom door — more than one of them, if you were sharing that bed with anyone.
You will have to fight or dodge in order to get out of the room. Your Manifestation is out for your blood. You can do damage to it, creating deep wounds and heavy bruises, causing it to stagger and slow for a moment, but no matter how much damage you do it keeps coming for you. Sooner or later, you will need to run.
When you make it out into the streets, you'll find that the entire world has changed. Heavy darkness fills the city, and no stars are visible in the sky. A few lights glow despite the lack of electricity, but they only provide a sickly, red-tinted light. Streets are slick with something that looks like blood, and the stone walls in many places have been transformed into metal or grate. Through the grate, you can catch glimpses of black metal hooks and gory, dripping meat that looks human in origin.
There is no palatable food or water. Anything you have saved has rotted or changed unnaturally into what looks like rotting flesh or lumps of bile. Liquid has turned into blood or black water. The only mercy is that symptoms of hunger, thirst and fatigue stabilize after 24 hours and don't get any worse. Don't worry, it won't be the dehydration that kills you here.
Your Manifestation pursues you tirelessly, and the monster dogs are faster, smarter, and moving in packs. Your home is no longer safe, and staying on the streets is deadly.
On the 28th, characters are awakened by the sound of their front doors being smashed in. It's your own smashing door that awakens you, but you can hear more distant sounds of destruction from the other apartments nearby.
As you scramble out of your bed, you find that the homey, quilted bedding has been soaked through with blood, and it's sagging in the middle with the outline of a human body. But before you have a chance to properly react to that horror, your Manifestation is coming through your bedroom door — more than one of them, if you were sharing that bed with anyone.
You will have to fight or dodge in order to get out of the room. Your Manifestation is out for your blood. You can do damage to it, creating deep wounds and heavy bruises, causing it to stagger and slow for a moment, but no matter how much damage you do it keeps coming for you. Sooner or later, you will need to run.
There is no palatable food or water. Anything you have saved has rotted or changed unnaturally into what looks like rotting flesh or lumps of bile. Liquid has turned into blood or black water. The only mercy is that symptoms of hunger, thirst and fatigue stabilize after 24 hours and don't get any worse. Don't worry, it won't be the dehydration that kills you here.
Your Manifestation pursues you tirelessly, and the monster dogs are faster, smarter, and moving in packs. Your home is no longer safe, and staying on the streets is deadly.
CONTENT WARNING: Body horror, immolation
Sooner or later, you find your way to the bonfire in the middle of the fountain square. There is no longer water in the fountain. Instead, the whole thing towers with flame, fueled by a viscous black substance in the basin.
A tall man stands by the fountain, gazing into the flames as if he is supervising. His suit is true black, fathomless black, while his skin is a dark red-black like the newly formed crust upon a lava flow. His eyes are black pools reflecting the flames. He takes no interest in any approaching characters, and will not respond to any questions. The only thing that will draw his attention to you is an attempted attack. If you try it, your blow lands, but he doesn't seem to take any damage. His head turns toward you and he considers you for a moment, as if he finds it intriguing that you would attempt such a thing. Then he returns his attention to the fire.
The dogs and the Manifestations will not pursue you into the circle of light cast by the bonfire. You can find a sort of respite here.
Time passes. It feels like days, though there is no way to mark the passage of time. The Dark Figure continues to supervise the bonfire.
At last, your attention is drawn to a sort of commotion approaching down one of the main streets that feeds into the plaza. You hear a rattling of metal, and a sort of gibbering moan. The bonfire illuminates first upon a pale, faceless figure which seems to writhe as it approaches, hovering above the paving stones. As it grows closer, you see that the figure is lashed to a square metal frame and bound with strips of barbed wire. Veiled figures on either side bear it forward, and the Dark Figure turns to watch it approach.
The figure upon the frame has no face and no mouth with which to make its agonized moans, but it continues nonetheless. It has limbs but no hands or feet, each limb ending in smooth stumps.
If no one interferes, the Handmaidens carry the frame forward and place it upon the fire.
The Handmaidens can be attacked, and hurt. They cry out indignantly at any attack, and recoil. They will not fight back, but they also will not be discouraged from their task by anything less than persistent violence.
If the pale figure on the frame is rescued by the player characters, it flails and gibbers helplessly, continuing to moan. If the pale figure is consigned to the flames, it begins to scream, and continues screaming for several minutes until the flame finally overcomes it.
In either situation, you begin to cough. Blood spills from your mouth, dribbling down your chin and spattering upon your clothing. But then the droplets begin to slither into letters, forming words that spell out your deepest guilt, in the words you yourself would use to describe it. No attempt to wipe the words away or cover them will prevent their legibility. The blood shines through whatever covers it, catching the firelight so that those around you can clearly read the words.
The Dark Figure and his Handmaidens made their exit while you were coughing. You are left alone with the other Tourists around you, your guilt, and whatever remains of the pale figure upon the frame.
Sooner or later, you find your way to the bonfire in the middle of the fountain square. There is no longer water in the fountain. Instead, the whole thing towers with flame, fueled by a viscous black substance in the basin.
A tall man stands by the fountain, gazing into the flames as if he is supervising. His suit is true black, fathomless black, while his skin is a dark red-black like the newly formed crust upon a lava flow. His eyes are black pools reflecting the flames. He takes no interest in any approaching characters, and will not respond to any questions. The only thing that will draw his attention to you is an attempted attack. If you try it, your blow lands, but he doesn't seem to take any damage. His head turns toward you and he considers you for a moment, as if he finds it intriguing that you would attempt such a thing. Then he returns his attention to the fire.
The dogs and the Manifestations will not pursue you into the circle of light cast by the bonfire. You can find a sort of respite here.
At last, your attention is drawn to a sort of commotion approaching down one of the main streets that feeds into the plaza. You hear a rattling of metal, and a sort of gibbering moan. The bonfire illuminates first upon a pale, faceless figure which seems to writhe as it approaches, hovering above the paving stones. As it grows closer, you see that the figure is lashed to a square metal frame and bound with strips of barbed wire. Veiled figures on either side bear it forward, and the Dark Figure turns to watch it approach.
The figure upon the frame has no face and no mouth with which to make its agonized moans, but it continues nonetheless. It has limbs but no hands or feet, each limb ending in smooth stumps.
If no one interferes, the Handmaidens carry the frame forward and place it upon the fire.
The Handmaidens can be attacked, and hurt. They cry out indignantly at any attack, and recoil. They will not fight back, but they also will not be discouraged from their task by anything less than persistent violence.
If the pale figure on the frame is rescued by the player characters, it flails and gibbers helplessly, continuing to moan. If the pale figure is consigned to the flames, it begins to scream, and continues screaming for several minutes until the flame finally overcomes it.
In either situation, you begin to cough. Blood spills from your mouth, dribbling down your chin and spattering upon your clothing. But then the droplets begin to slither into letters, forming words that spell out your deepest guilt, in the words you yourself would use to describe it. No attempt to wipe the words away or cover them will prevent their legibility. The blood shines through whatever covers it, catching the firelight so that those around you can clearly read the words.
The Dark Figure and his Handmaidens made their exit while you were coughing. You are left alone with the other Tourists around you, your guilt, and whatever remains of the pale figure upon the frame.
Arrival: August 1
Sound and Light: August 5-20
Into the Fog: August 21-27
Waking Up to a Nightmare: August 28-30
The Bonfire: August 31
Welcome to Rhodos! Going forward, events will take place in two parts. The Normal World part of the event posted on the 5th of each month, and it will be a lighter event both in terms of length and thematic content. TDMs will be bi-monthly and will feature an event element or elements for the Normal World which in-game characters may also play with on their own log posts. The sections on Fog and Nightmare worlds for the TDM will generally be the same every month, allowing players to test drive those elements if they'd like, but not including spoilers for the second part of that month's event. The second part of the event will be posted on the 20th of each month, covering events occurring through both the Fog and Nightmare cycles.
Test drive memes are considered game canon.
This won't always be the case, but for the nerds among you who are enjoying this sometimes-accurate tour of Rhodes, all location images in this TDM and housing are accurate to Rhodes.
Lastly, we are in need of mods! We're most in need of help for processing apps and activity. If we aren't able to get some additional mods, we will have to place a cap on applications, and we're hoping we won't have to do that. If you're interested, please send us a message over on the mod contact page. We've gotten the mod volunteers we needed so we should be all clear to proceed without an applications cap. Thank you to everyone who showed interest!
Sound and Light: August 5-20
Into the Fog: August 21-27
Waking Up to a Nightmare: August 28-30
The Bonfire: August 31
Welcome to Rhodos! Going forward, events will take place in two parts. The Normal World part of the event posted on the 5th of each month, and it will be a lighter event both in terms of length and thematic content. TDMs will be bi-monthly and will feature an event element or elements for the Normal World which in-game characters may also play with on their own log posts. The sections on Fog and Nightmare worlds for the TDM will generally be the same every month, allowing players to test drive those elements if they'd like, but not including spoilers for the second part of that month's event. The second part of the event will be posted on the 20th of each month, covering events occurring through both the Fog and Nightmare cycles.
Test drive memes are considered game canon.
This won't always be the case, but for the nerds among you who are enjoying this sometimes-accurate tour of Rhodes, all location images in this TDM and housing are accurate to Rhodes.
no subject
jackie looks around a bit, spotting a cooler towards the back and darting towards it. she comes back around with two water bottles tucked into the crook of her arm, then scans the shelves for other things they can use. she ends up finding a bar of clear soap with seashells inside and a couple of pucks that turn into a towel once they're soaked with water - it's probably not ideal, given that it looks like he's just been chewed on by something, but it's better than nothing.
she's just short of beaming when she comes back to him - maybe a little inappropriate, given their whole situation, but it feels good to be of use after months of it being hammered into her how much better everyone around her was at adapting to the wilderness. she sets everything she's found on the counter and nods to steve. ]
Okay, we can probably make do with this stuff. Until we find a doctor's office or something.
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but the idea of being less grimy is too tempting not to take, even if it is entirely bizarre a strange girl has made it her mission to make him a little less disgusting without so much as a question as to how he got that way. ) Okay, ( Steve agrees, feeling a little unbalanced. usually, you know, this is his gig. hyperfocusing on how somebody is, when there's bigger more important things to worry about.
weird. but not bad. a sponge bath isn't gonna get him entirely clean, though it should be enough to make him slightly less terrifying to behold. Steve carefully settles Eddie's vest on the counter before he creaks closer to Jackie and her cooler. ) I already ruined this shirt, I guess I can scrub down with this one and put on a clean one when I'm done. ( sorry, tourist trap tee. you didn't deserve to be doused in old blood and Upside Down grime. )
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the guy doesn't seem put off by her directness, anyway, and jackie offers him a smile that she hopes is reassuring as she starts to prepare what she needs. the washcloth is wrapped in plastic that requires some fiddling to get off, but one it is she soaks it with water from one of the bottles and starts rubbing soap into it. she nods to him while she waits for it to lather. ]
Okay. [ makes sense, and they're probably better off discarding the cloth once it gets too dirty to clean than trying to wash it. ] What did that to you, anyway?
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Steve creaks miserably against the counter, looking around the abandoned shop and wondering if there might be some aspirin around somewhere, too. he presses a hand to the bandages and tries to brace himself for the incoming pain of taking them off. ) Where is everybody, you think? ( he can't help but wonder aloud, considering he's spent hours without seeing another face. it is a relief to have Jackie around, just to know he's not entirely on his lonesome.
unfortunately, the problem with seeing someone else is that they'll ask uncomfortable questions about why he looks like such a goddamn disaster. )
Animal, ( Steve says, hesitantly. because... well, that's kinda true, isn't it? there's a bunch of bite marks all over him, some that didn't even get bandaged. so it makes a certain amount of sense, if you ignore the horrific bruise across the front of his throat. and, in the interest of not talking about what did this to him anymore, ) What's your name? Really glad to see another face, it feels like I've been wandering around for hours and haven't seen anybody. Somehow the beach is less nice if you're there on your own, you know?
( aka, he was a little creeped to be on his own. he's glad that there's other people kicking around in this ghost town. )
no subject
she's focused enough on what she's doing, mindful of his reactions and whether or not she's hurting him, when he asks where she thinks everyone else is. if there is anybody else. she's not sure that's a reality either of them necessarily want to face, but maybe it's better to acknowledge the possibility that they're the only ones here sooner rather than later. ]
I don't know. [ the first washcloth's gotten off most of the muck and she drops it to the floor, reaching for another and pouring water onto it so she can get at the rest before she starts to clean the wounds. ] You're the first person I've seen since I got here. But I was with people before.
[ not entirely true, but steve doesn't need to know she'd been shut out and left to die in the cold by the rest of the team, most notably the person she'd loved the most. she shuts that thought out once she's got the next cloth sufficiently soaked through and soaped up, and fortunately he's asked another question she can focus on. ]
Glad to see another face, too. [ he's a little out of the range of her sight, since she's focused on the damage on his torso and he's quite a bit taller than her, but she offers him a smile anyway. ] It's Jackie. Taylor. And yeah, the beach kind of loses its charm when you're the only one on it and it's all gloomy.
no subject
the foolhardy bid for independence dies before Steve even suggests it. this will be easier if she helps him. nobody is forcing her to scrub the Upside-Down grime off of him, she chose to. it's not so bad to accept a little help, once and awhile. so he relents, hesitantly bracing himself against the counter as she works. it feels nice, at least initially. his skin is delighted to not be encased in grime. he knows that's likely to change, when they get to the bloody scraps of Nancy's sweatshirt. )
Me too. ( Nancy, and Eddie, and Robin. well, technically Eddie and Robin had already scrambled through the portal. they weren't far. Nancy was the only one directly in arm's reach, and the last thing Steve remembers is holding her and shaking her, desperately trying to reach her as a psychic sociopath dragged her into a personalized hell she couldn't escape. Steve frowns, closes his eyes, and forces himself to shake off the memory. literally, it involves shaking his head, like he can just knock the thought loose. if he can't, he's gonna lose it in this tourist shop with a relative stranger braving proximity to scrub grime and gore off him. so he's gotta get it together. )
Jackie. Hi. I, uh... Steve. I'm Steve. ( somewhere, another tally slides across the You Suck count. it is just very strange to introduce yourself to a girl that is already jumped past all sorts of social barriers between strangers to help clean you up after battle. Steve huffs a laugh at the ridiculousness of this situation. maybe a mistake, the laugh feels weirdly close, considering he has no shirt and Jackie is carefully scrubbing dirt off his banged up torso. ) I, uh... Thanks. Probably not gonna have much of a beach body after this, but not obviously filthy will still be an improvement.
no subject
but maybe that's thinking too far ahead, and steve definitely didn't ask for any of those details. so she just continues cleaning his wounds as best as she can with the materials at hand. eventually there's more torso visible than muck, and she smiles up at steve, encouraged by the progress. ]
Hi, Steve. [ with much of the dirt cleared away, she turns her attention to the wounds and...yikes, there's a lot of them. she winces sympathetically, trying to recall if she'd seen any painkillers among what she'd found in the store. ] I don't know. You could learn to surf, maybe. Surfers wear wetsuits, right?
no subject
Hi, ( Steve echoes, even though he said it already. because it's easiest conversation to keep up with when he's trying to meter his reaction to the pain. it isn't Jackie's fault he's hurting, he doesn't want her to feel worse when she's helping more than anything else. so Steve feels obligated to limit any pained noises to a minimum. though he can't help an occasional grunt and mumble, here and there.
at least the talk of surfing is distracting. he huffs a tired laugh. ) Maybe. Think I could pull that off, the cool surfer thing? ( he's from Indiana, land of corn and the Indy 500. not a lot of surfing. he's a swimmer more than he's a surfer, he's only ever seen the ocean on vacation. still, it's nice that Jackie assumes he could manage a surfboard without making a complete fool of himself. )
no subject
based on his reaction to it, she's doing a...job at that. distraction would probably help with the pain, wouldn't it? he laughs at her mention of surfing, which is encouraging, so she smiles and keeps at it, carefully swabbing at the wounds with the washcloth. ]
Probably. You've got the hair for it. [ the wounds at his sides are mostly cleaned now, so she focuses on the one between his shoulderblades, her lips pressing together when she sees it, trying to think of how to best address it. it's going to take a lot to bandage, but she figures better to clean now, figure out bandaging later. ] You from California?
[ a genuine question, believe it or not. jackie herself is from new jersey and a fairly short drive away from the ocean (and has definitely cut school to crash the boardwalk a handful of times), though her summers were usually spent with her parents in places like the hamptons with a bunch of rich kids she didn't really like. ]
no subject
Jackie finds the worst of it without him asking, and unfortunately it's the grodiest, too, because it's the part that never got even a little attention. not even a dirty sweatshirt wound around it to sop up the blood. Steve hisses, before he creaks to the side to make it easier for her to reach. it sucks, a lot, but clean is good. he's got to keep reminding himself that.
he grips the edge of the countertop, just to brace himself on something. at least the mention of his hair gets a laugh. a little stained with pain, sure, but a laugh. ) You think? ( his only reference for California hair is Billy Hargrove, and well, that's not necessarily a compliment. ) No, no. I'm from Indiana. Born and raised.
no subject
[ she wonders for a moment what in indiana could have caused this kind of damage. the bites look too small to be from a wolf or a bear, but it definitely looks like there are bites made by fangs of some kind. part of her wants to ask, but then he hisses in pain and she decides to table it. the point of them talking is meant to distract him from the pain, not think of the cause of it. ]
I'm from New Jersey. South, near the shore. [ there are many differences between south and north jersey, and central jersey may or may not exist, no one is sure. ] I'd say you'd fit right in but Asbury might be a bit much for you.
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at least the pain of cleaning him up is keeping him from getting too frustrated with how ridiculous his life is, lately. sobers him, and Jackie even throws him a bone by bringing up something a lot more interesting than small town Indiana. he grips the counter miserably, trying to keep from grimacing or making any mumbles of pain. jesus this hurts. hopefully she'll be done soon. his voice is a little raw when he speaks again. )
The big city, huh? ( that's cool. he's been to New York (not quite the same as Jersey, but close enough. right?) for a game. Yankees. it had seemed a little unreal, a cool modern place with detached, trendy people. it's hard to imagine living there. ) Why's that? What's Asbury like?
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Apparently it was a pretty big attraction in its heyday. The boardwalk had rides, Springsteen would show up and play shows, and there was gonna be this big casino and all this new housing. Now most of it is pretty much deserted if it's not riddled with crime. But, you know, the beach is still the beach. [ sometimes kids had gone there on ditch days, since it was a fairly short drive and the beach is still the beach. a lot of times the cops had picked them up and driven back past the school to everyone cheering as the squad car passed them.
finally, the wound appears cleaned enough for her to be able to bandage it, inasmuch as she can do that with a regular first aid kit. jackie carefully gives one more swipe at the remaining dirt and blood before setting the cloth down and going behind the register, and thankfully there is, in fact, one there. there's even a couple bigger bandages (well, bigger than a band-aid) and some tape to hold them down. ]
Okay. I think these can cover the worst of it. You still with me?
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he sort of knows what Jackie means, though. even if it isn't quite the same in Hawkins. crime hasn't exploded or anything, but the town is sort of at a confused standstill after the mall was destroyed. Starcourt shuttered so many of the businesses on Main Street, and yet even with it gone they didn't have the resources to return. the town was just left to limp along without the giant lumbering in the distance, notably worse for the loss and nothing to do for it. )
I'm here, ( Steve says, a little delayed, but more or less coherent. it's ridiculous how much of a relief it is to have Jackie wander around the counter, because it means that she won't be scrubbing into open wounds for a little while. he slumps a little over the counter, pressing his forehead into the tile. ) That was the worst of it, right? If it wasn't, maybe, lie to me a little. ( his delivery is a little strained, spoken directly into a countertop, but... it was a joke. okay! a joke. )
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That should be the worst of it, I think. [ jackie sets the kit down and grabs the last bottle of water and the soap, wetting the soap first and then her hands as she tries to get them as clean as possible (otherwise what was the point in cleaning away all the muck?). once they're as clean as they're getting, she reaches for a bandge, unwrapping it carefully as she comes close enough to reach the wounds on his back again. ] It's probably better if you stay like that.