[OPEN/EVENT] Anything can be a weapon if you're holding it right;

[lightgunhustler]

Who: Jo Harvelle & you!
Where: Throughout Abel Township.
When: August 9th & August 10th
Rating: PG
Summary: As an honorary Abel Runner, Jo is doing her part to help keep things going smoothly around town-- plus snooping.
The Story:

[The first couple days of the event, Jo doesn't stray far from Simon, helping out wherever he seems to need her, taking inventory of supplies and assisting in making sure things are being rationed properly down in the mess hall. By the morning of August 9th, she feels comfortable enough with the lay of the land to go her own way.

She starts out at the med tent, looking for any spare first aid supplies that they might be able to keep up at the farmhouse-- just in case. Once she's through there, she goes to take inventory in one of the supply caches, complete with a clipboard and a pen, same as she's prone to do concerning the resistance hideout's stash when Wonderland is just a little bit closer to normal. She'll stop in the mess hall to eat about mid-day, although the plate of beans and canned meet she ends up with looks seriously suspect on top of being meager, and she'll offer the second half of it to anyone who's hungry enough to risk it if they happen to be around. She'll spent the better part of the afternoon on top of the walls and playing lookout. She'd managed to find a shotgun locked away in the farmhouse on the first day and broken it out, although she's saving the ammunition in case of emergency-- can't have any Runners getting grabbed by zombies when they're just about through the gate. When she's not on watch, she'll be mimicking Simon and carrying a baseball bat instead.

On the morning of August 10th, she lets herself into the farmhouse again, without Simon this time. She's heard so much about its proper owner from both Sam and Maxine that it's impossible not to be curious, and while she'd resisted doing any prying and restricted previous use of the house to common areas and borrowing necessities, it's personal things she's looking for now. Simon has never talked about Janine if he could help it, but she knew enough from Sam and Maxine that even without having met her, Jo likes her-- she feels like they would have gotten on well, been great friends despite the occasional clash of wills, and that in itself makes her feel just a little guilty sometimes.

While she's downstairs and nosing around, she's careful to check over her shoulder and make sure she's still alone, slowly walking through and examining various items in what looks like it had once been a comfortable living area. Once she's upstairs, she's a little less careful-- especially when she finds her way to what must be the master bedroom. Once she starts looking through things there, she'll be too engrossed in her private investigation to hear if someone happens to come up the stairs behind her, particularly once she gets her hands on any photos.]

(OOC: If none of the above scenarios work for you, feel free to provide your own! Prose or action are both fine, I'll match you.)

Comments

8/01, Pre-Event, Closed to Ellen Harvelle

[lightgunhustler]

[It's eight flights of stairs from Jo's own room to the one her mother chose for herself up on the ninth floor, but only four from the bar, which is where she happens to be coming from on this particular afternoon, having left the bar itself in Cami's capable hands for the time being. Jo had done her best to fill Ellen in on all of the need-to-know concerning Wonderland during her first couple of days, given her a little time for the shock to wear off-- but they're nowhere near done. There's still a lot of catching up to do, and Jo's been taking care not to heap too much on her at once, even if some of the news she has to give is the good kind. It's a lot to take in-- she remembers how overwhelmed she'd been when she was new, even with Dean acting as tour guide.

She pauses outside the door to room 10, knocking sharply with her free hand while the other holds the top of a white paper bag from downstairs, folded over to keep its contents hot.]

Mom? You in? I brought you some lunch.

[whiskeyslinger]

[ The distance between herself and Jo was intentional, even if it was sometimes painful. It didn't take long to see that Jo had set up a life for herself here in Wonderland. Ellen would be a part of it, there was no question about that, but she knew better than to think that she needed to be tripping her daughter up with her presence.

As much time as she'd needed to wrap her head around this place, she was also trying to wrap her head around a Jo that had survived here for so long. More than that, a daughter who had managed to build a family here. She was as proud as a mother could be, but she was also unsure of how she fit.

That didn't mean that she didn't frequent the bar often enough. Or that she hadn't taken it on herself to get behind the bar a time or two. She hadn't quite gotten around to asking if Jo needed a hand, it looked like things were running well enough without her, all things considered.

She opened the door and glanced at the bag in Jo's hand. ]

Lunch, huh? You trying to butter me up for something?

[ She's joking. She steps back, opening the door wide and giving her daughter a small grin.]

Let me guess. Pancakes.

[lightgunhustler]

[Jo just smiles at her in reply. It's been a careful balancing act, letting Ellen adjust without completely smothering her, but the fact is that even if Ellen is worried about not fitting, Jo is more than happy to make room for her. After how they'd left things--

Not having her mother in her life while she has the chance just isn't an option.]

What, you think I want somethin'? You have to eat, don't you? [She holds the bag up, dangling it.] Burger and fries. Pancakes are more Simon's territory, but I think he got it out of his system.

[There had been a lot of pancakes the day Ellen turned up, honestly. Jo grins back at her, stepping through and taking a moment to close the door behind her, affording them some privacy.]

I just wanted to check in, see how you're doing. I know it takes a little while to adjust, even for a quick study like you. I've been here awhile, but-- I haven't forgotten how off-kilter I felt the first couple of months.

[whiskeyslinger]

[ Ellen takes the bag and moves towards a couch, pulling out two burgers and two fries and setting them on a small coffee table nearby. ] Your father's specialty was eggs. About the only thing he could cook, everything else ended up in smoke.

[ It's been a long time since she's thought about that and it comes with that same familiar ache, but Simon reminds her so much of Bill, it's no wonder that Jo likes him. She pats the seat beside her.]

Do you want something to drink?

[lightgunhustler]

I remember that.

[She smiles again, just a little brighter, privately awed at the fact that she could remember that far back. So many memories of her father seemed faded, fuzzy, but there were certain things that would always stick with her. The smell of his leather jacket, the way he'd laugh when he'd beat someone at darts, the way he'd let her sit on his lap at the kitchen table to eat those eggs. She remembers a few blackened attempts at more complicated dishes, too-- few though they'd been.]

You're already comfortable, I'll get drinks-- what do you want?

[Like hell she's going to make Ellen wait on her, especially when she's still settling in. Besides, her legs aren't broken.]

August 10th

[beatupgrass]

[Most of Rocket's work has been involved with Janine's shed, so he's been able to help out the town while investigating the effect this place is having on his mods, but only... one of those problems has proved to be an easy fix. Shy of emergency self-surgery, he might not have a fix and there's definitely no safe place to do that here.

Fortunately, it's mostly just his voice box. Not being able to lift anything twice his body mass is a hassle, but not being able to walk or massive organ failure would be worse. That doesn't mean he likes having to steal with static every so often, but it could be worse.

And then, all of a sudden, it just stops. The entire box shorts out and he can't talk, and that's when he gets desperate. Genius intelligence or not, being able to communicate is important to him- it's whats separates him from the dumb animals of the world. It's desperation that leads him into the farmhouse and where Jo will hear a sudden clanking from the kitchen as Rocket goes through drawers.]

[lightgunhustler]

[The sudden racket is enough to make her halt her investigation within moments-- it's easily loud enough to grab her attention, and Jo heads back towards the kitchen from the living area at top speed. It's not the first time someone would have wandered into the house looking for something, seeing as it seemed to be the very heart of the base, serving as its command center, but there's something urgent about the rummaging that urges her to check sooner rather than later.]

Hey, what are--

[Oh.]

Looking for something, Rocket?

[beatupgrass]

[Rocket tenses so hard that his tail bristles, and given that's about all that is sticking out of the cabinet right now, it's still enough to show he's in more of a mood than usual. He drops down onto the counter, scratches his ear awkwardly as he struggles to find a way to explain it without words, and realizes he can't, so with a animal noise of agitation, he jumps off the counter and waves her off.

Without a word.]

[lightgunhustler]

[She puts her hands up, taking half a step back.]

Whoa, whoa--

[Yeah, clearly in a mood-- and it's then that it hits her that he's not talking. That's damn near unheard of, the way she understands it. They might not know each other well, but she knows enough of him to know Rocket's always got plenty to say.]

Is something wrong? Do you need help?

[beatupgrass]

[Yes, he needs help. He needs it bad, but this isn't something he would trust just anyone with and even if he had someone he could trust here, they still lack the tools until the freakin' mansion goes back to normal, and maybe this will be over by then.

Or not. He can't even be a hundred percent sure the short was even caused by the event- his body mods are pretty cheap in comparison to some out there.

He stops and rakes his claws over the top of his head in the animal version of mussing his own hair and then pivots to face Jo, pointing at his throat with an expression of darkest severity.]

August 10th

[voiceinthedark]

[It's bizarre being back in Abel. Easy to settle back into things, but not at the same time, not when none of the people from Abel are there. He misses them. It's a deep ache in his chest. And he still doesn't want to be here.

He heads up to the farmhouse out of habit in the morning. He'd normally be going to pick up the day's roster for the Runners, see if Janine needed anything. The door is ajar when he arrives, and that concerns him. It shouldn't; there's no-one here and he's been pretty insistent that no-one gets to use the farmhouse. It feels wrong.

He enters the building. No-one. Climbs the stairs quietly. It annoys him, that someone would come in here without permission. It's Janine's home.

There's someone in the bedroom and-]

Jo?

[lightgunhustler]

[She freezes, her back to him. Of all the people who could have found her here, Sam is just about the worst-- trumped only by Simon, maybe. She exhales, setting down the clipboard she'd found-- supply notes, mostly, proof that Janine was a painfully organized person. She turns towards the door, folding her arms across her chest to close herself off pre-emptively. She doesn't have a good excuse, none that she imagines will be good enough for Sam, but already she feels the need to defend herself.]

Sam, hey, I--

[She sighs.]

I'm sorry.

[voiceinthedark]

[There is a flare of hurt when she turns to look at him. Not quite betrayal but... but this is Janine's house. It's her farmhouse, her home, the heart of Abel and someone else poking around, it- it stings.

He shifts his weight, looking truly uncomfortable.]

She- she's a very private person. She doesn't trust easily and... and there's reasons for that.

But none of us would be alive if not for her.

[lightgunhustler]

I know. She's important to all of you.

[That's been made abundantly clear over the past year, in bits and pieces.]

That's why I-- I was just curious.

[She knows that doesn't make snooping right, but...]

She always sounds like someone I really would have liked, but I'll probably never get to meet her.

[voiceinthedark]

She makes you feel like the future is a real thing. You're going to survive, and rebuild, and live.

[He looks around himself at the room. It's oddly cosy. You don't normally expect that from her, but it is. Everything looks well used and comfortable. There's a stack of military biographies next to the bed.]

You could have asked. I would have told you and-

I think you would have got on. As much as she gets on with anyone.

August 9th - Mess Hall

[therapize]

"You know, I thought we were better friends than that."

Because yes, the food is seriously suspect, but Cami keeps her voice carefully lowered anyway. She knows that the longer this event stretches on, the more thankful they'll be for the very same food they can't quite manage to stomach right now. Until then, however, like Jo Cami's willing to offer up part of her portion to those with faster metabolisms and sturdier tastebuds.

It's a good thing she's run into the other woman though. Cami's very aware of the fact that she's not at all suited for an event like this. Sure, she can probably handle the psychological horrors, help someone else through them, but all that depends on surviving long enough to show up for therapy appointments--not to mention that with so many people putting themselves at risk, Cami wants to do more.

"Listen; I don't know if you've been assigned anything in particular, but if you've got some free time I'd love a quick run down of how to survive a zombie apocalypse." Because unlike Cami, Jo has been trained for something like this. Granted, even someone as good as Jo can only do so much, but Cami would much prefer to avoid her second death, and potentially third should she get too close to one of the shambling dead.

[lightgunhustler]

"In another twenty-four hours, I can almost guarantee you that the offer will stop feeling so insulting and this stuff will look like gourmet cuisine," Jo quips back with a wry smile-- no doubt she'd be less picky in a day or so, but at the moment, she's not so desperate as to force herself to pretend something is palatable when it isn't. That said, she doesn't want to see it go to waste, either-- supplies being limited and all.

She shifts in her seat, propping her arm up against the table as she turns to face Cami as best she can, eyebrows raised at the prospect.

"Mostly keeping tabs on supplies and making sure everyone who needs a weapon has one-- reminding people of basic zombie safety, that kind of thing." Which meant that what Cami was asking for fell in line with the assignment Simon had given her, so to speak. "If you want a crash course, I'd be happy to give you one. This might not be my world, but it's not the first time I've dealt with zombies-- and Simon's passed a lot on."

As far as she's concerned, he's the expert here.

[therapize]

“Oh, I’m sure. But for now, I’m taking advantage of my not-starving privilege, thank you very much.” They might be joking about it, but honestly, Cami’s concerned about just how bad things could get before they improve. Compared to what they’re all used to the food looks meager and unappetizing, but this same portion could potentially spark fights given enough time.

For the moment, however, she doesn’t feel so guilty enough to be willing to take the mystery meat off of Jo’s hands. Instead Cami leans forward a bit, nodding and Jo describes the list of duties she’s been given. It sounds like she won’t be taking Jo away from any task she’s been given, which is good. Cami would rather get the sort of training she’s asking for from a friend rather than a stranger.

“Zombies are something we’ve avoided in New Orleans so far.” Cami can only hope it stays that way, but she knows better than to count on it. Either way, she knows she needs the help now if she’s going to do any good around here, even if the best she can manage is to stay alive. “Which means I’ve got zero experience coming into this. But I promise to pay attention and be a well-behaved student.”

No matter how teasing the grin she flashes Jo as she says it.

[lightgunhustler]

Jo only hopes that this event doesn't last long enough that they start fighting one another for food, but she knows its possible. Things can deteriorate quickly when people are hungry, but they at least have the comfort of knowing that this is temporary, in the end. Those from Abel weren't quite so lucky.

"Well, you're in luck," Jo tells her, grinning right back. "Dealing with zombies isn't exactly a walk in the park, but they're not as smart or powerful as the stuff you're used to dealing with back home. Unfortunately, they travel in huge packs and aren't smart enough to back off when they're being beat, so the trick is to be fast and be persistent, and always be willing to run."

[therapize]

It really is a comfort, which speaks to the twisted way Wonderland works: by putting them all in this situation, the powers in charge have in turned made them all eager to go back to the prison of luxury. She can’t help but wonder if it’s not part of some larger scheme, perhaps to condition them all to cling to Wonderland as they knew it could be during times of peace.

For the moment, however, Cami has to focus on more immediate dangers. All playfulness aside, she really isn’t keen to add a second death to her tally. So when Jo talks, she listens, nodding as what she hears falls in line with what she’s already been told. “Luckily I can run pretty well even in totally insensible shoes, so that shouldn’t be a problem. What I probably need work on is the defending myself aspect. Don’t get me wrong; I know how to swing a blunt object if I need to.”

But this isn’t a church attic, and there isn’t a convenient lamp always within reach.

[luckynumberthree]

[ Simon's trip back from outside the walls comes earlier than anticipated and he heads for the farmhouse first, just to see if there's anything urgently needing his attention before he sneaks in and borrows Jenny's shower.

Which he feels sort of guilty about, but it's not like she's currently here to rescind his permission, so he's taking advantage.

Finding someone else in the farmhouse isn't something he anticipates, and hearing movement upstairs suddenly has his senses going on high-alert and his heart leaping in his throat as he makes his way upstairs to the bedroom. Her bedroom. For a little while, it had even sort of been theirs, even if he'd always kept his tent as a backup all the same.

He's avoided this room until now, but the sound of someone moving in there pulls him like a magnet and a moment later, he finds himself in the doorway, trying to remember how to breath.

It's not Jenny standing there. It's Jo. The dissonance in the images leaves him reeling for a moment before he musters a faint smirk and leans on the door frame. ]

Snooping?

[lightgunhustler]

[Caught red-handed.

If there had been one person she hadn't wanted to find her in here, above all others, it was Simon-- with anyone else, she feels like she could have come up with a good enough excuse, apologized and explained it away as best she could for it being a very real invasion of privacy, but with Simon...

He knew her so well it was possible he already knew what she'd been thinking, what had possessed her to come upstairs in the first place. She sets down the photo she'd been looking at, quickly slipping it back beneath the book that had hidden it in the first place.]

... yeah.

[No use pretending she wasn't.]

Shit. Si, I'm sorry.

[luckynumberthree]

[ The expression that flares across her face at being caught has him pushing away from the doorway and stepping into the room towards her, one hand reaching out to rub soothingly against her arm. ]

Hey, it's fine. I'm not mad. It's not like... Jenny's not here to mind anyway, yeah? What she doesn't know she can't get pissed about.

[ His tone turns wry at that sentiment, because yeah, that's what usually lands him in trouble, but doesn't make it any less true. ]

[lightgunhustler]

[It's not the reaction she'd expected, and she suddenly feels bad for expecting much worse, for assuming he wouldn't be understanding, that he'd be angry. She looks conflicted for a moment, leaning into him and putting an arm around his waist.]

You're not pissed?

[She thinks she probably would have been, but at the same time, if he'd wanted to know more about Dean, or about Tom-- she wouldn't have blamed him. How could she?]

I was-- curious. I've heard a lot about her from everyone else-- [never from him] Felt like I'd regret it if I didn't take a look. Even if she's not here, I know it's still-- not right. Violation of privacy and all.

[luckynumberthree]

Why should I be pissed? It's not like I didn't come in here and snoop a time or two myself.

[ He confesses it with a snicker, because Jenny had known each time, but she'd been more exasperated at his excuses for it than anything at that point.

He wraps his arms around Jo's shoulder and tugs her over to the bed to sit down on the edge of the mattress. His eyes automatically go to the white wrought iron headboard and sure enough, there's a rosary dangling there from a curl of metal. It brings a crooked smile to his face, although there's almost something shattered in his gaze as he reaches out to brush his fingers over it with familiarity. ]

You could ask, you know. If there's things you want to know.