April 17

Placeholder!

Who: Conor and Sarah
When: Afternoon
Where: Campfire

With some of the chaos of the day winding down, after the body had been found and buried, Sarah instinctively went off to find Dan, but while walking, changed course to search for Conor instead. Dan had Nic and she doubted that today, of all days, he would want her clinging to him because a dead body of a girl she hadn't even known freaked her out. It didn't take long to track him down, given he was sitting in the general campsite area, near where the fire had been burning the night before. He'd seemed to be in a foul mood earlier, when she had first woken up to the discovery of the body, so she braced herself for that and went over to him, her fingers gripping the sleeves of the sweatshirt that belonged to him.

Who: Rain Cassidy and Bob Moran
Where: around the campfire, followed by a stroll along the lake shore
When: late morning

"Rain mentally ran through what she knew about preserving fish. Most of her ideas centered around having a deepfreezer and some saran wrap..."

Who: Davis and Blair
Where: The edge of campish
When: Sundown, after the wolves start sounding
What: Firebuilding, TBA

Davis had spent the last few days helping where he could. He gathered edible plants with the others and when his knee needed a break, he fished with the others. He'd spoken to some of the others, but mostly he kept to himself. The few people who gave most of the orders seemed to know what they were doing, so he didn't argue, just went along and tried to help. Davis was fully capable of being a lazy, selfish asshole, but he knew when something was in his best interest, and wasn't going to spite himself by rebelling. He'd seen the women in their cages the other day - that was warning enough.

Mood: 

Wicked

Who: Joy
Where: Janie and Gavin's Love Boat
When: Sunset

For once, Joy had been working hard. She hadn't been doing anything for the campsite, of course. She'd been plotting and lying in wait. She had a little present for her dear sister and her boy toy.

She had gotten up early, finding a bucket that someone had left out. Through the course of the day, she'd been collecting the ingredients for her little surprise- rabbit and fish guts and bones, rocks, some broken glass- and had spent the afternoon waiting in the bushes for Janie and Gavin to leave.

Her waiting had finally paid off. They'd finally left a little before the sun had started going down. As soon as they were out of sight, Joy went into action. She didn't know how long they'd be gone, but fortunately this wouldn't take long. She snuck up to the boat and dumped the contents into the bottom. Once the sun went down, they wouldn't be able to see what she'd left them. Especially Janie. Blind bitch wouldn't know what hit her. Satisfied, she quickly got out before they came back. She'd wanted to leave a little love note or stick around and watch the fun, but she didn't want to be away from camp at night. Between the wolves howling and people disappearing in the night, she wanted to be near other people. Just in case.

Mood: 

Weird

Who: Adam and Rebekah
When: late afternoon
Where: in camp

Rebekah had gone nearly two days now without food, and just the bare minimum of water that she'd stolen into camp to drink in the middle of the night. She'd crouched where it had been stored, wide blue eyes looking out into the darkness as the wolves howled. They sounded wild and free, and voices whispered to her to run out and join them. To give in, she was damned anyway, and leave all this behind. What was a couple more months? All her work was gone. But she hadn't. She'd walked the long walk back to the boathouse, the wind whipping her long hair around, and nothing came to claim her. She slept fitfully on the floor in the corner, and spent a good chunk of the morning standing calf-deep in the water and watching it ripple.

But eventually hunger and weakness won out. If she didn't go to eat now, she wouldn't be able to later. So Rebekah made her slow way back toward camp, stopping every so often to kneel and rest. She kept her head down, dirty hair hanging in her face, using the edges of tents for support when she got that close.

Who: Aamir
Where: in the forest near--very near-- Ashley's grave
When: some time after her burial

Allah in his mercy had provided fish, but that bounty did not excuse Aamir from the duty of checking his snares. He would not leave any rabbits he'd trapped to suffer needlessly. He pulled up the snares that were empty, coiled the wires around his wrist. Let the house mates learn moderation. Let them learn restraint. They did not need to eat meat every single day. No. He would hunt no more, not today.

~*~SHINY PLACEHOLDER~*~

In lieu of any authority figures, these people are fucking morons. Suspect this is why house actually burned down.

Or maybe scientists are bored of their crap. Can't blame them.

Mood: 

Irritated

Who: Aamir and open to Millie
Where: in the chapel
When: morning

Somebody sat in poison ivy...

Who: Andre, Caél, and Matt
Where: By the lake
When: About 7ish

Andre really didn't remember the lake being this far. Of course, last time he'd been wearing shoes and hadn't been pushing a wheelbarrow. Still, they were getting there, that was the important thing. He wanted to get this over with quickly. They'd been walking for a while and were getting close to the lake when he finally started to smell it. Yeah, that's it all right. Phew. He put down the wheelbarrow for a moment and pulled out a couple of cigars he'd gotten out of his tent, tossing one to Caél. "You might want this, bro. That thing's gonna be rank when we get to it. The cigar'll mask the smell a bit." He got his cigar lit- never easy with just matches- then offered the box to Caél. "At least, that's what they do on CSI and shit."

Hand-written Journal Entry

Mood: 

Pissed Off

this is bullshit.

Mood: 

Lost

Who: Samantha
Where: In the woods behind the chapel.
When: About noon, but before Ben's little breakdown.

Samantha was cold. In some very wrong places. Mumbling a little, fighting off her sleep paralysis, she forced herself to pull her green silk nightgown down just a little bit more. Her well-manicured fingernails brushed slightly against the mattress, drawing little lines in the dirt.

Dirt?

Who: Ben, open to all inside the chapel
Where: The chapel!
When: Noonish

He'd been trying, trying so hard to keep control. The days since the fire had been a steady erosion of what little calm and composure Ben could usually muster; first the forced interaction with the others while building shelters, then the complete absence of the privacy he craved so badly. Without his medicine, Ben knew that it was a matter of time, time that was sapped more quickly by having to help these people he didn't know or trust.

Ha. I did find the one thing you did leave me assholes. No clothes but I got a pretty pretty book. Thanks. Cocks. You fuckers think your real funny. Put me in here with that stupid freek. I showed her. Kicked her ass good. Your gunna put me in here with THAT, yeah I'm gunna make her life fucking misrabel.

Oh, and the bullshit with the fucking writing on me? No thank you. I still cant get it off. My neck hurts, my back hurts, all of it hurts thanks to that little stunt. Appreciate it pal. Fuck you all. Fuck Blair Fuck D Fuck Zany Fuck F Y and YOU. Only about three people right now in this house worth a damn. Everyone else? Beter watch their fucking backs.

Event: At around noon, Samantha wakes up in the treeline, about a hundred yards behind the church. She's alone, and wearing whatever it was she wore to bed the night before with no possessions.

Who: Conor and Zania
Where: In the woods near the campsite.
When: After the others go to find the body.

There was something to be said for having the capability to fool one's own mind. For instance, Conor could make his brain believe that he wasn't sick. He could make himself think he was invincible. He had, admittedly, suffered under the delusion that he was immortal for several years now. These facts were never challenged, not even in the very darkest recesses of his own mind, until his chest was tightening and his lungs were grasping and his throat was closing. Like now.

I know I'm suppose to be keeping a journal. I don't know how the scientists are suppose to keep track of whether or not I'm actually writing in it, but I don't really want to find out.

I got through the night, despite the dark. And the howling of whatever...wolves? God. I'm almost afraid to climb out of this tent now. What are we suppose to do to defend ourselves, should those things move closer every night? It terrifies me to even think about it.