obsidianlogs | august mingle;

Entry tags:

mingle log

august mingle;

This is the general mingle log for August. Feel free to post open top levels for: new arrivals, job duties, general hanging out in common spaces, bonding with your block, and anything else you can think of.

There will not be a catch all for the event, so you can put event starters here or in their own separate log!

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Hell's wheels, huh? Rook runs a hand over his face slowly as though that might do... something, he's not honestly sure. "Uh- a lot." Like a lot a lot. "Hell's wheels is probably the closest to what happened without getting too into it."

He gets close enough- moving stiffly, as though in pain or as though he'd not walked for a while- to offer his hand in greeting. No one wanted to be trapped in a bunker, but Rook at least wants the other person trapped here to know he's not a threat. "David Rook."

"Dinah Lance." She grasps his hand and squeezes his palm just briefly before breaking contact again. Dinah's not going to push Rook to share; she wouldn't appreciate it in his position. Perhaps he'll open up later. Perhaps not. Maybe she doesn't care too much what he's been through anyway. It's his own shit to deal with.

"Can you walk? I know the way back?"

She offers her hand back to Rook in case he needs to lean on her. "Come on. We can get out of here."

Dinah. He definitely doesn't know her, but she seems a friendly face, and he appreciates that.

"Yeah." He can walk, and he's stubborn enough to do it alone, even if help is maybe not the worst idea. Getting out though... he gives her a dubious look, but moves to follow anyway. She had gotten in here, after all.

"I don't know if we can," is the only protest he offers, peering out of the doorway and towards the exit.

"I think it's this way."
Dinah steps out confidently into the corridor, leading the way back to the hatch. Except, it's shut.

She knew it. She knew she should have blocked it open. "Shit," she mutters to herself before she turns to face Rook.

"So what now? Are there any other ways out?"

Yeah... he was afraid of that. Rook shrugs apathetically, and offers a smile that's some mix of apologetic and disheartened. "No. This is a prepper's bunker. Having two ways to block off would be too much of a risk, I guess."

He shrugs. "There's food and stuff. I keep finding my way back here, which means I get out somehow, but I don't remember how I get in or out. I'm just... here, or I'm not. ... That sounds crazy. Sorry."

"Preppers? Like end of the world nut jobs?" Dinah smirks. She can't help it. "You have to be kidding me."

She starts to head back to the room where she'd found Rook, patting his shoulder briefly as she goes back past him.

"Nah, I get it. I keep... it's like, I'm back, you know? Before prison and that. It's like everything's back to how it was before. This is the first time I haven't dreamed it."

Dinah shrugs. "It has to be a dream, right?"

"Yeah. Plague of them, where I'm from. There are more prepper bunkers than pot holes- and there are a lot of pot holes."

He gives her something of a quizzical look, but at the same time... it does make sense. He shouldn't be here. Joseph is in prison too, Dutch is dead, and he's not even in Montana anymore, much less Hope County. This is a painfully realistic dream, though. But... who is this Dinah? He would swear he's never seen her before.

Something else occurs to him, though. "Makes sense," he says, slowly, as though not entirely paying attention. He looks past her towards the bunker door, and traces his steps back towards it.

"Wait, what does?" She chases after him. "What makes sense?"
One minute they'd been talking about doomsday peppers and the next -
"What the hell's going on here?" she demands as she catches up with him.

"Uh, sorry," Rook says, still heading for that hatch and still distracted, but he does slow long enough to glance over his shoulder.

"It makes sense that this is a dream." And if it's a dream, and he's conscious of it... he should be able to manipulate it, right? Maybe?

He pushes on the heavy steel. At first, it doesn't budge. The same as every other time he's tried.

But then, one side creaks just a tiny bit, as though it might actually open.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" Dinah asks. Then again, this guy's apparently dreaming about being in prison too, so maybe his dreams are no better than reality.

Dinah grins as the hatch creaks, and she moves to add her own strength to the door.
"Come on. Push it again."

"Tell me about it," he grumbles. If it's a dream, why couldn't he be home? Or at least in a nice, normal Fall's End?

Oh well, if he can at least get this hatch open where he's failed before, that's good enough, he guesses.

He can't help but grin too, and nods. "Alright, one- two- three-!" It takes effort, and feels strangely real, but they succeed in pushing the door open to the point it swings and clunks heavily on the plate outside. "Holy shit."

It's mostly him doing it. Dinah's somehow managed to cross into his dream - if this is a dream, and as much as she can wander around and interact, she can't influence it. The door creaking open is solely on Rook. She shares his excitement though.
"Hey - you did it!" She exclaims. "Here, do you want to go first? I can give you a boost if you need to get your legs up."

He still looks sickly and Dinah's doubtful that he can make it on her own. She might be quite petite but she's definitely strong enough to sort herself out.

Hey, he's fine- he's just... been through a lot, that's all.

He shares Dinah's excitement, though, poking his head out. God, but the fresh air is nice. The smell of musty pine needles is, for once, surprisingly refreshing.

"No, I'm good." He climbs the last little bit out of the hole, and leans over to offer Dinah his hand before taking a good look around. "The island isn't that big... the fog is thick though, isn't it? Can't see more than twenty feet."

"This is an island?" Dinah peers through the fog - not that it helps. She can't see jack except hulking great shapes. Trees, she presumes, and old ones, tall and dense and damp and dark.

"What the hell is this place? Why would anyone build a bunker on an island? Even your survivalists?"

"Dutch's Island, square in the middle of Hope County, Montana. I suppose Dutch- the man that owns this land- wanted an island for himself. He's got cameras set up all over. Nothing goes in or out that he doesn't see."

Rook shrugs casually. "You learn to stop questioning preppers after a while."

Dinah looks around again as if suddenly she'll be able to see anything through the fog.
"So he's getting us on camera right now?" She shivers in the damp. "Nah, something feels off about this. He gonna be pleased you've busted open his hatch, or that some random woman's showed up here?"
Honestly, it feels like someone who is trying their best to keep everything locked up and the outside, out.

"Dutch is paranoid and hates the government with a passion that's hard to match, but he saved my life. He's not going to mind if you're with me."

Rook shrugs. "Not to mention I keep hearing him, but I've only seen him once or twice." It makes more sense if it's a dream, but it's still unsettling.

"What do you mean? On that radio?" Dinah asks. She starts to walk, picking a direction at random. "What else is here then?"

She waits for Rook to catch up. There's an amused smirk on her face. "D'you often find yourself in situations you need saving from then?"

"No, talking into the radio."

He follows her, and it's bizarre that he can see Dinah just fine, but hardly anything else once they get more than a few feet into the fog.

"Just the once when trying to arrest a cult leader led to our helicopter getting downed, and then after escaping I ended up surrounded in an old trailer, then escaping that in one of the cult's trucks while being chased down finally lead to getting bombed by the cult's plane while driving over a bridge and I ended up in the river. That was the only time." He sounds very tired and deadpan about the whole thing.

"Wait- we just passed that tree a minute ago."

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