entrancelogs | 001 - it's just a new beginning

Entry tags:

001 - it's just a new beginning

Who: Chris Argent & Open! (closed to Daryl for his initial arrival)
Where: The Caves, and then he'll be roaming the grounds and mansion.
When: March 5th
Rating: PGish
Summary: Chris arrives in the caves and wants some answers.
The Story:

When he returns to consciousness, it takes him a few minutes to orient himself. His instinct is to immediately sit up, take a survey of the damage and injuries that should have occurred when the bomb exploded. The ringing in his ears and pounding in his head keep him on the solid ground for just a little bit longer.

While he concentrates on his breathing, he becomes very aware of his surroundings. Or, really, how odd his surroundings feel. Since the ringing starts to subside, he notices that the only sounds he can hear are from himself. The echoes are very distinct, sounds he would expect from a cave or enclosed area made mostly of rock. Forcing his eyes open, they don't adjust to the dim lighting right away but he's instantly alert.

Pushing himself up, ignoring the aches in his body, Chris gives himself a second to scan the area, looking for any sign of...well, anything. Life, light, something.

When he's finally standing up straight, he inches forward with a hand out until he finds a wall, leaning against it so he can assess the situation. Out of all the questions and confusion in his mind, he's certain about one thing - this sure as hell isn't the police station. Not to mention he's unarmed, which makes him feel a bit naked as he starts to follow the wall, fingertips always making contact so he doesn't lose his way.

Chris will find the entrance, and possibly accost the first person he comes across for information. He's ill prepared and it makes him on edge.

(OOC: Chris is going to run into Daryl in the caves and get the run down, otherwise he will be anywhere else in the mansion having a look around, searching for anyone he knows (mostly Allison). Feel free to run into him anywhere! Action brackets or prose are both good with me.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Daryl, meanwhile, knows exactly where he is... Not that it's making him feel any better about things. It's been months since he's been down here, since he's wandered this far into the winding tunnels under the grounds and basement, and if he'd thought finally pushing past the sense of foreboding he'd felt when the light from outside had faded and the darkness had swallowed him up, well...

He'd been wrong.

Good thing he has a fucking flashlight. Also a gun, his crossbow, and most importantly of all, his god damn wits about him. This isn't like it was before, he's telling himself. This isn't-- It isn't gonna go down like it did. If he runs into more like the thing that'd killed him... He's ready.

And so for the past few hours he's been patrolling, searching, tracking, though the lack of any overt signs of non-human life make that last part almost pointless. Every so often he comes across lights, disturbances that he can tell were made by a person and not a monster, but other than that... Not a damn thing.

At least until he turns a corner and the beam of his flashlight bounces off of a dark shadow at the end of the passage; not wasting any time, he calls out to it, crossbow readied:

"Turn around, real slow."

That thing, the walker that wasn't... It'd looked like a person too, and he isn't taking any chances.

...Frankly, who or whatever this thing is is lucky he don't just shoot it on sight.

His back straightens and his hands lift up just the slightest as he turns, showing he has no weapons or way to attack even if he wanted to. Maybe if the man was closer, he could have tried to wrangle him into some kind of strangle hold, but he's too far away to chance it.

"I'm not armed." He's very calm when he talks, though he stays on alert. It's not the first time he's had a weapon pointed in his direction, and if this isn't the one who brought him here he can understand how suspicious this looks. "I just woke up on the ground a few minutes ago."

The thing moves, and Daryl almost fires off a shot to a non-vital area just in case... But then it (or he, apparently) speaks, and Daryl lowers his weapon automatically. He's still wary, of course, still a hell of a lot more on edge than he should be, but it's obvious this guy isn't what he's looking for down here.

...He's still a little pissed off, though, and so his response is short, his voice tinged with annoyance.

"Is that right..." And he's pretty sure he knows what that means, but: "You new?"

Attitude central but it's not you, dude. It's these fucking caves...

That's a strange way to phrase it - is he new? Until then, he considered himself kidnapped, if anything.

"Guess you could say that." His hands lower as the man's weapon moves. "This a common occurrence around here?"

Bombarding the man with question like he wants to do won't help him. It's also obvious he's a little irritated, and Chris isn't looking for a fight right now. Just a way out.

"Yeah. Every week buncha new faces pop up. Some of 'em hang around, others don't..." He eyes the guy.

"Guess that makes me the welcome wagon," he says, though his sounds about as welcoming as his general demeanor. "You the faintin' type?"

That's certainly some interesting information, though Chris doesn't exactly take the man at face value right now.

His lips twitch a little at the question - the man's rough attitude doesn't seem very welcoming, but it doesn't bother Chris. "Not exactly." Folding his arms over his chest, he inclines his head toward Daryl. "If you're the welcome wagon, then I'm going to assume this isn't just your typical kidnapping job."

Not being tied down certainly helps with that assumption.

"Where are we?"

Hey, believe him or don't, buddy, he's not busting on you. You're not that lucky.

"Ain't nothin' typical about it. Place's called Wonderland." A beat. "Not a whole lot wonderful 'bout it neither but we don't get a say in the name."

He finally lowers his crossbow completely, assuming a slightly less offensive stance though he doesn't set it back over his shoulder just yet.

"This ain't the best place to give you the rundown, c'mon." And he jerks his head back the way he came. "Outside ain't far."

The mention of Wonderland has his eyes narrowing just the slightest, but otherwise he doesn't react to the news just yet. It doesn't tell him much, other than someone must think they're funny with how they name places.

Silent, he nods as he follows Daryl out of the darkness, realizing they literally were in some underground caves once they reach daylight. He has to squint against it, a hand coming up to shield his eyes.

"Wonderland." He says this thoughtfully, more to himself, as he starts to take in his surroundings. "Any relation to the books?"

Not that he thinks this would be Wonderland straight from the novels, but it would make sense for someone to use the name for the area. Already, he can tell something is just off about the place.

"Some." From what he remembers, anyway. He'd never been particularly interested in some guy's recorded acid trip. "Seen that mouse runnin' around more than once. Damn cat, too. Pain in the ass, both of 'em."

He jerks his head at the Mansion. The good news:

"Everybody lives in there. All you gotta do's pick a room and it's yours so long as nobody else already claimed it." And then he frowns. "Might as well make yourself at home, you ain't goin' nowhere any time soon."

That would be the bad news. Well... For most people.

For a man who has fairly good control over his expressions, he can't help but stare at Daryl in disbelief. He'd expected it to just be named after a fictional area, not literally be that area.

He's just not going to ask about the cat or the mouse right now.

"No way to get back home?" Chris glances at the mansion without really seeing it, focusing on what's most important right now - he can't leave. "How'd we get here to begin with? Who's behind it?"

Daryl just grunts.

"None that anybody here's worked out, no. Ain't for lack of tryin'." Now that he's out of the caves again, now that he can breathe, the obvious thing to do is to slide his smokes out from the pocket of his vest, pluck one out and set it between his lips as he pats himself down to look for his lighter.

It's absolutely not to distract himself from the way being down there had made his skin prickle, how it'd had nothing to do with stumbling across somebody where he should have found nothing but damp, musty air.

"And we don't got much on who brought us here, neither. No one's coppin' to it."

Chris rubs a hand over his eyes, frustrated at the situation. He should have known it wouldn't have been easy to figure out the who and the why...even the how.

"Can't say I would cop to it if I were the one doing it." He shakes his head before looking over at the mansion with narrowed eyes. "I'm assuming that's where everyone lives. How many people have been brought here?"

Get used to that frustration, pal, 'cause it ain't goin' nowhere.

Daryl nods as he lights his cigarette, letting out a hum with the first plume of smoke through his nose.

"Right. Got about... Maybe forty-head, fifty... Give or take. People come and go, ain't easy keepin' track of all of 'em."

Especially when you're a wood hermit.

"It's double that if you count the ones behind the Mirrors... You checked your pockets yet?"

Yeah, he just inferred that there are people behind the mirrors and moved right along. Welcome to Wondrland, guy.

Chris just resigns himself for a constant stream of bad news at this point - there's not really a way to turn this situation into a hopeful or positive one. He is glad to have run into someone who's blunt enough to cut through the crap.

"My pockets?" All his personal items had been confiscated when he'd been arrested, but now that Daryl's mentioning them he starts to pat at his jacket, bringing a phone out moments later with a slightly baffled look. "Some kind of welcome present I take it?"

Yep, this place has soared past 'glass half empty' and lodged itself firmly up the ass of 'the glass is now broken and slicing off your fingers', it's true.

Well. Kind of true, depending on how your home life is... But Daryl isn't going to volunteer that, or any opinion, really; just the facts, for the time being.

"Closest to it we're gonna get. That thing's connected to all of the other ones here. Everybody's got one. Videos, voice, text... Some games." Don't you dare judge him, he was bored and drunk...

Moving on.

"Works most of the time, 'cept during some events. Real pain in the ass..."

He takes a drag of his cigarette. Lets that sink in.

No judgement here from Chris. He might not be the type to play games, but he can understand the need for something to do to pass the time.

He's been hunting for a very long time, and a lot of that time is spent waiting.

"They have a network set up here. Interesting." He muses as he turns the phone over in his hands, familiarizing himself with it. He's not sure what to think, but files it away for later pondering. "Wonder why? I'd think finding anyone around here would be simple enough."

"Don't look like it now but it ain't always this quiet. Time comes you're gonna be thankin' god for that thing." Well... In between the swearing over whatever fresh pain in the ass the place cooks up for them to deal with.

"Every couple weeks things change, and it ain't for the better."

"It was probably too much to hope for a place that stayed quiet." He says warily as he tucks the phone back in his pocket. He'll look at it more thoroughly later - there are more important things to be learning at the moment.

"Mind giving me a few examples of what changes?" At this point, he has no idea what to expect next and forces himself to keep an open mind. It's hard to, considering it's easy to go down the road of 'seeing is believing' but Chris is also a firm believer in being prepared.

"Whole damn place, sometimes. Other times it's just us."

And if Chris is looking closely enough, he might notice the way Daryl's frown becomes just a bit more weighted, there. Before he shakes it off, anyway.

"Messes with our heads, makes us remember shit that ain't real." But because he's feeling less inclined for fear-mongering than usual: "Ain't all the time. Most of the time it's just the Mansion and the grounds."

Daryl looks Chris up and down.

"...What kinda place you comin' from?"

He's not sure what to think at this point - he's certainly uncomfortable, being in such an unpredictable area. Hard to be prepared when he doesn't know what to prepare for at any given time.

"California." He answers, a little distracted as he tries to reconcile with the fact there's going to be a lot he won't be able to control here. "I was in a police station before I found myself here. Bomb went off, took me a while to realize I wasn't actually still there."

And it has him curious, looking over at Daryl with a measuring look. "You?"

"Georgia," he answers, and leaves it at that. No point getting into everything that goes on there; aside from the fact that he doesn't care to get into it, it's especially irrelevant now.

"Anyway... We got all kinds here. Some of 'em ain't human," he adds, feeling like it's probably best to get that out of the way, too.

"Most of 'em don't go causin' much trouble... They got--" and he pauses to think of the right word, "-wards. Shit you can set up to keep some of 'em away."

Allison's out practicing, which isn't all that surprising with how much has been on her mind lately. Lydia's gone, Scott's back, Isaac, and Allison needs time to clear her head. The self defense lessons help a bit with that, but sometimes she just needs to get away. Get off and do her own thing. And by her own thing, she actually means set up a small little practice area behind the greenhouse - just a big enough area for her to set up a small target about a hundred feet away.

It won't be until she's made it through a few rounds that she'll start to pack up again, to gather her things and take everything down and head back out to the main walkway that surrounds the outside of the mansion. She still looks a little distracted, her eyes down as she tries to keep working through the tension she feels, which might lead her to running into anyone else walking down the path. Or perhaps just not noticing if someone else is walking around her.

After an interesting exchange with Daryl, Chris has made it out of the caves looking a bit wary. It's hard to wrap his mind around the information he's been given, and he's pretty distracted himself as he comes to a stop on the walkway to the mansion.

For a moment, he stays there to gather his thoughts, face turned up toward the sky with his eyes closed. What next? Getting a feel for the layout of the area seems as good of a plan as any, and he turns to his left to start on that journey.

Chris comes to an immediate halt when he sees a familiar figure heading in his direction. "Allison?" Her name is out before he can stop himself, half wondering if he's just being that hopeful. His daughter has been in the back of his mind, wondering if she's there and, if not, if she'll be all right.

The name is what catches her first, but with how her thoughts are more scrambled, she hears her name from one direction and looks in the opposite. Confused, thinking that maybe she's starting to hear voices, she keeps walking and turns back ahead of her and-

She freezes, mid-step, when she sees the figure ahead of her on the walkway. Stares, for just a moment or two longer, before her arms drop to her side. Allison is trying very desperately to keep her cool about this, and not to automatically assume that it's Wonderland screwing with her and - just like the video screen - is just being fed exactly what she wants to see most.

"Dad?"

At least she doesn't stutter, but she also can't bring herself to move, needing something a little more before she believes it.

Her reaction has his brow furrowing, his expression growing concerned. As relieved as he is to see her, he has to wonder how long she's been here, what she's experienced. From what he knows, a stay here isn't entirely a pleasant experience.

Where Allison freezes in place, Chris is walking forward, pulling her into a tight hug as soon as he reaches here. "I'm here." And he isn't going anywhere, not without her. Not if he has anything to say about it.

She sees the concern in his face, see her father standing right in front of her, and yet all Allison can manage to do is stare. Stare, and watch, and wait, like she does with all the other events that seem too good to be true. Entirely too good, because there's no way, no way at all that-

That's when Chris walks forward, and that's when Allison has to fight the urge to step back. She has no reason to believe it really is him, but at the same time no reason to believe it isn't. Why is she so afraid to just accept it? Like she does when Scott shows up? Lydia? If this were anyone else she would have been running towards them, excited, already in on the explanation and the this is crazy, you'll never believe it. But with her own father? She waits.

His arms wraps around her like every other hug. They feel normal, comfortable, with a sharp pain in her gut when she realizes just how long she's been missing them. Him. It's only a brief moment that she stands in the embrace, not moving, before the bow drops from her hand (she couldn't care less about it in this moment) and her arms lift. Shake, yes, but she doesn't notice that, just knows that she's reaching up and her hands are bunching in the fabric on his back and oh god, daddy.

If she melts a little into his arms, drops her weight because she can, because her dad is here, she doesn't notice. Doesn't notice anything except for how she tucks her face into his shoulder, or for how she doesn't think she really wants to move. Ever. Because pulling away would give this moment a chance to disappear. Give her father a chance to disappear.

But then there's that internal check, that realization a few moments later of how weak she's being. How childish. She wants to just sit here and let Chris hold her for however long she can manage, but she knows that's not what's best. Not helpful. So with one last squeeze, a tightening of her arms around his middle, she pulls back. Pulls back and wipes off her face, as quickly and discreetly as she can.

She's been living in Wonderland for eight months. Has gone through Hell and back, multiple times. She's not going to cry in front of her dad.

"How..." or let her voice crack. Allison takes a breath, giving Chris a small smile. "How long have you been here?"

His hand goes to the back of her head, closing his eyes for a moment as he thanks whatever force is out there that his daughter is here and safe. The chaos of being arrested, the bomb exploding, it had drained him. Arriving here and talking to Daryl had baffled him, but now he puts all of that to the side. Allison is his priority right now, everything else can wait.

When she pulls back, he gives her a quick once over, looking for any injuries or anything else out of the ordinary. Chris can see Allison is trying her best to hold it together, which again makes him wonder just how long she's been here.

"Not too long ago. I found myself in the caves." He looks behind him, the way he came - he doubts he'll be venturing back down there anytime soon. "Met a man named Daryl. He filled me in on some things."

He hadn't expected Daryl to know if his daughter was there or not - from what he could glean, there were all kinds of folks running around. Chris is just happy luck seemed to be giving him a break, helping him find Allison so quickly.

"How long have you been here?" And he takes in the equipment she has with her, an eyebrow raising just a hair. "Just out practicing today?"

That's the feeling Allison loses herself in. That single moment where it's her father hugging her, holding the back of her head, standing there and being here and what she gets lost in is the thought that despite everything, in this moment, she feels safe. But she knows better than to believe that, knows Wonderland better than to even think it was possible, and she pulls away from him, lets him look her over.

She's vaguely aware that at least there's no event going on. That at least she doesn't have to do this in the midst of Wonderland trying to kill everyone she cares about.

When he mentions the caves, her eyes follow his, back to where he must have come from. She opens her mouth to say something, but she loses it when he mentions Daryl, connecting Daryl back to the mans he met before the... she shakes her head, which then turns into a nod. "Daryl's a good guy. Kind of a hermit, but yeah."

And then there's that question, and her face drops a little, her eyes finding where she dropped her bow and leaning down to get it if only for another moment or two to gather her thoughts. "It's...complicated." She resettles her grip in the bow before she pulls it over her shoulder, takes another breath. "But I've been here eight months." Better to get right to the point, right? She watches her father and waits for him to respond, to say it's not possible, to question her on this.

Hermit seems exactly like the type of guy Daryl came off as - a little rough around the edges, too, but he still helped. That's what matters.

Chris is taken aback by the amount of time she's been there. His head even shakes a little, as if to deny it could even possibly be that long.

"Eight months?" There is disbelief in his voice, but he's not about to call her a liar by any means. It's just difficult to swallow. "How long do people usually end up staying? I know there's no way back, none that anyone has been able to find, at least."

Yeah, like everyone else he holds out a hope there is a way out. Probably a little too much hope, but then again he did just arrive.

Rough around the edges, doesn't like people much, but Allison got along with him alright. When they have similar goals, similar wants and needs, they work just fine. Allison's just not sure yet if he's one of those people who wants anything more.

But that's another topic - for now, she just watches Chris. Watches his reaction, the shaking of his head. He doesn't belief her, or at least that's what his tone suggests, and she just shifts her weight on her feet, shrugging a bit. "Changes depending on the person. Some are here for less than a month, some longer. Stiles and Scott were here before I was, and other people even longer. Some up to two years." She doesn't comment on the not being able to find a way back part of that, either. A tightness in her chest keeping her from really wanting to expand.

Instead, she tries for a small smile, feeling the cold of the air start to sink in through her coat. After a moment or two she softens a bit into the expression, as the situation itself settles in. This is her dad. Her dad is here, safe, alive. It's like the weight of the world is slowly sliding off her shoulders and before she can even try and stop herself she's stepping forward again, wrapping her arms around his middle and leaning her face into his chest.

"I missed you."

Already, he dislikes Wonderland - an area so unpredictable, magic practically flooding the place? That's never good news. Now with the added bonus of being stuck, but never knowing for how long, just has him frowning at the mansion as she talks.

Her hug brings him out of his unhappy thoughts, and he returns it tightly, wondering again just what kind of experience she's had. Allison will always be his little girl, no matter what her age is, and he can tell times haven't always been the best for her here. Especially if he factors in what Daryl told him.

"Wish I could have been here sooner." He says honestly. Chris would rather be home, of course, but if Allison's here he'd rather be there right along with her. Their family has taken one hit after another and at this point they only have each other. "Better be careful, you'll never get rid of me at this point. Every teenager wants their father hovering around, right?"

It's said jokingly, his hand coming up to run over her hair in a comforting motion.

"How about we get inside, you show me around?"

If Allison knows her father at all, he's going to grow to hate Wonderland more and more the longer he stays. The way it shifts and changes, every rule you might have known before Wonderland having a fifty fifty chance of being obsolete. Allison's had a hard enough time trying to gain her footing, and she just learned the ropes of survival and hunting just a few months prior.

But none of that really matters now, because her dad is here and she can be okay. She can finally, really, be okay. Even if there will be a hole left until Lydia comes back, if she comes back, Allison has felt herself getting used to that. Used to Lydia leaving, and coming back, and leaving again. All she's seen of her father in the last eight months has been those tv screens, those videos of him being tortured. It's one thing to tell yourself it's not real, that you've had two people from home tell you he's fine, he's alive, but it's another to be able to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest.

"It's fine." She's not crying, she's not, and after another quick squeeze she leans back out again. Cracking a smile, nearly laughing, when he talks about hovering. "I'm just glad you're alive."

Which, as soon as it leaves her mouth, the color drains from her face. She tenses a little, pulling her arms away from him at the realization she hasn't asked yet. Doesn't know. "What's the last thing you remember? From home?"

The tour can wait. She has to find out first.

"I was in the police station." Thinking back on what had been happening before Wonderland has him reaching up to rub the spot between his eyebrows, as if to fight off a headache. "Someone's framed me for Kakashi's murder - I was handcuffed to a chair with Derek when a bomb exploded."

His memories of that aren't as clear, as memories tend to be a little fuzzy when there are explosions and adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"Not sure what the purpose of that way." Though he has some idea, if his mouth tightening into a thin line has anything to say about it. "Why? What do you remember?"

He can probably catch the way her brow furrows at the mention of a police station. Framed? Kakashi? Derek? If she had a better handle on the situation, she might feel relieved at the fact that her father being with Derek and not sounding like he was two seconds from killing him. It would make their time in Wonderland a bit easier, considering how she and Derek line up now. But she's too busy reeling, trying to keep herself from looking like she's reeling.

Allison presses her lips into a line for a moment. "Are you okay? After the bomb- you were okay, right?" Does she looked panicked? Maybe. Probably. But this is her father, her only family. This is the first moment, the honest to god first moment she's been able to breathe knowing her dad survives the nemeton and now she has to worry about a bomb? Her eyes dart away from him at his question, tensing for an entirely different reason. She hates being behind like this, hasn't felt this way since before France.

"You..." Sacrificed yourself. She takes a breath. "We were looking for the nemeton. It was the night before the lunar eclipse."

"I'm fine, just a few bruises." Thanks to Derek throwing himself over Chris at the last minute. He remembers that much before his arrival here, and he's still not sure what to think about that.

It certainly has him reconsidering his opinion on Derek Hale, at least.

It's a little surprising that Allison is from back then - which, when he thinks about it, wasn't that long ago. It seems like a lifetime, like most events that happen in their lives nowadays.

"It's been a little bit since then." She doesn't know about the Oni, and he decides to fill her in. Not that the knowledge would make much difference here, but he likes being on the same page as his daughter. "There are a few Japanese spirits that have started to appear. Marking those with supernatural abilities, looking for something called a nogitsune."

She gives him a very small, relieved smile at the sound of that. Even if she's very aware of the fact he's most likely downplaying the actual event, at least he's okay. He's fine. She doesn't connect him being fine to Derek, doesn't even try and push why and how and when. No, Allison can take this moment to just be content with the fact that her dad is okay. For now, at least for a little bit longer, things are okay.

The it's been a while has her feeling a little defensive again, like - as irrational as this sounds - she should have found a way around it. Should know all of this already. Her hands ball into fists but that is where she stops it, tries to keep everything else calm. When he starts filling in the more modern problems in Beacon Hills, there's the vaguest sense of guilt creeping up in her gut.

They did they. They turned the beacon on. She takes a breath. "What's the nogitsune doing in Beacon Hills?"

Ellen is checking on the still when she hears something moving near by. Meg is still around, Crowley's here and she doesn't trust this place not to drop more shit on top of everything else.

Reaching back, she lifts the kitten out of her hood and settles him on a table. Then, she inches her hand into her coat, reaching for the gun that's still always there. (The mansion has taught her not to go without.)

Seeing the man, she steps forward, hand still on the gun. "Howdy."

Though a bit wary about exploring after what he's heard about his current location, Chris is surprised to find a still of all things to be hidden away near the mansion.

Not completely hidden, since he was able to find it. He gives her a nod in greeting, hands tucked into his pockets as he comes forward. "Didn't expect to find one of these out here."

She snorts, more amused than anything. The still is something she's working on because it can lead to a lot more things. Not the least of which is medical treatment.

"Old family habit." Ellen admits, finally easing the concealed grip on her gun. Behind her, the kitten mewls, peeking around a planter to look at the new person that joined them.

"I'm Ellen." She offers her hand, almost daring him not to take it.

Reaching out, he clasps her hand and gives it a firm shake. "Chris Argent. Just arrived and got the run down."

Letting her hand go, he shoots a look over at the kitten, his mouth twitching into a half smile. "I should probably start dropping all assumptions about this place. So far, it's been...educational."

In a way.

"You'll learn to hate it and be a functional alcoholic with the rest of us." She's... half joking. Turning, she scoops up the kitten and tucks it into the hood of her jacket, heading back for the still.

"Wanna give me a hand? We find our own ways of keeping busy. And I don't trust the closets." Because... well, they stopped working.

He huffs out a laugh at that, since he can see it - he's already over Wonderland and he's just arrived. There's no telling how he'll feel in even a week's time once he's learned more, but he doubts he'll be any happier about it.

"Happy to. Haven't had a chance to use one of the closets myself...is there something wrong with them?" He still finds it hard to believe they work the way he's been told, but he's trying to keep an open mind.

She grabs a box of bottles and nods to the other box. Time to drain the still and then refill it. Ellen crouches down with one box and opens the valve, filling the bottle with the moonshine that she's been brewing.

"Magic can be worn out. It's finite. Back around Christmas, we had visitors from the future that warned us the closets stop working." She reaches for another bottle. "Why use 'em for something I can make?"

The kitten stares at him from the safety of the hood, completely content to watch him and stay where he is.

He moves over to the box she nods at, picking it up and following her over.

"The future." There's a bit of an eyebrow raise at that. Chris is having a difficult time as it is accepting the part about magic - time traveling is a whole different animal. He sets his box down gently beside hers, crouching down to watch her work. "Probably a good idea, then. Does that magic limitation also apply to the kitchen?"

He's just wondering what people will do for food. He hasn't seen any wild animals yet, but those woods probably house a few. There's just no telling what kind.

"I didn't believe it either, but Dean... well, he put it out bluntly and I trust that boy with my daughter's life." It's the highest compliment she can pay someone. "Then, a few others also talked about it. Can't deny overwhelming evidence. Barely had my feet here when it dumped me into the caves will all sorts of nasties."

The one case of bottles is quickly filled. She starts on the second. "And it does, since that's part of the magic. I've been cleaning up the greenhouse some, but don't know a damned thing about it." Ellen shrugs, not minding admitting a shortfall. "Better weather's coming, and it's time we started taking over food production. I'm just not the best one to organize it."

That's a compliment he can understand - he trusts Allison with her own life, but he would be hard pressed to choose anyone else he would have confidence in when it comes to that area.

"Sounds like a good idea regardless. I can't say I'm willing to blindly trust a building that magically produces food myself." Not only could whoever's in charge suddenly decide to stop providing for them, but there's no telling what could actually be in the food. Caution goes a long way. "How long have you been around?"

"Especially since they like screwing with us." She's a bit bitter about her time here.

His question makes her pause. She has to take a moment to count back, and realizes something.

"Hell, six months." She shakes her head. "Beginning of October I got here. Beginning of March now." She finishes emptying the still, pushing the bottles to the side. She grabs the hose and fills the small pot of mash to keep it boiling. "Place keeps you on your toes."

"I've heard about that much." He doesn't look too happy about the prospect of being messed with by any means, but he'll deal with things as they come.

"That's a long time." He watches her work, interested to see how the whole process goes down. "I've heard a little bit about these 'events'. What have you experienced since you've been here?"

"Won't be too long and you'll get to enjoy the party." She puts the lid back on the still and tightens it down. Ellen bats at the kitten's paw since it came over to get its favorite sleeping spot back. It sniffs Chris's shoe but meows at Ellen until she picks it up and puts it on her shoulder.

"Let's see, the mines were right after I got here. The future folk were Christmas, that included ghosts and a few other things." She shakes her head. "Damned if I can remember them all. Valentines was... unpleasant." And she's beheaded vampires.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

001 - it's just a new beginning

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sorry this took so long - my notifs have been all over the place

no worries!!

you are an awesome lady

/o/

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oh gosh i'm so sorry for this lateness i lost the tag

NEVER WORRY ALL IS WELL

:D

<33333

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