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

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.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.]

[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?

[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.]

[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?

[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.]

What-- oh.

[As body language goes, his is clear enough, if immensely frustrated. The not talking suddenly makes more immediate sense.]

Your voicebox.

[Or whatever it's called, officially. She keeps her hands up, non-threatening as she takes a step closer.]

There's gotta be someone around here who understands tech well enough to do something.

[You know, besides him.]

Or-- if you can tell me what you need to get the job done, maybe we can find it together? Simon knows where everything is around here.

[His ears flick, expression mildly distasteful, and then he pulls out his device and types a message in it for her to see.]

it was shorting out when we got here. already checked everywhere. tech might be too archaic for this.

[Well, that's handy. Good thinking.]

Yeah, I know there's not a lot to work with around here. End of the world and all.

[She grimaces, sympathetic.]

Someone could be resourceful enough, though-- unless you're Wonderland's leading tech expert. [Something she realizes is a very real possibility.] Then we might be stuck.

[he flicks his ears, grimaces, and then types again:]

pretty sure I am, yeah.

[he huffs quietly and then adds:] might go away after this is over, but i can't count on that.

I get it. I wouldn't want to count on that, either, if I were you.

[Which puts them in a hell of a spot-- him being best-suited for the job, but ill-equipped to do it.]

Do you think you could pull it off if we found you the right tools?

[he winces and hesitates before he types back:]

maybe. it'd be risky, but i do repairs on my body mods all the time back home.

Edited 2015-09-07 00:48 (UTC)

[Well, that's not entirely comforting.]

I guess the question is whether or not you think that's a risk worth taking now, or if you wanna wait and see if things go back to normal when this is over before messing with anything.

[A decision that's easier said than made, she's sure, given how frustrated he has to be.]

[he looks conflicted for a moment. sure knowing how to talk is important and more a point of pride than anything else. it's not necessary.]

might be a bad idea to be bleedin' on everything when there's bloodthirsty fuckers outside.

[She grimaces.]

Good point.

[Well. That answers that.]

So we hold off for now, see what happens when the event ends-- that said, if you need help with anything while this is going on, you know you've got it, right?

[She's all for being helpful, as an honorary Abel-er.]

[he nods, not liking it one bit, but accepting. he starts to type something on his device, but then chooses not to. he's still weird about thanking people, so he'll just let his silence speak for itself. He appreciates it, but he's still not used to this, so he barely knows how to react.]

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

August 10th

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