welcome to the end of eras ; ota

[thebabysittersclub]

WHO: Steve Harrington and you~
WHERE: The Bunker, then the streets/inn
WHEN: September 10th onward
OPEN TO: One for arrival, OTA for after
WARNINGS: Language

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1) arrival ; bunker tubes - one reply please

[And here he'd thought he might get a break from the weird stuff for a bit. After a particularly hellish day, and no that wasn't an understatement in the slightest, Steve had hoped to just fall into his bed and sleep for 14 hours and do, well, nothing for a day or two. He earned that, right?

Besides, his face fucking hurt and he knew he was going to look like a mess for a while. Better to suffer and heal where he didn't have to deal with the stares.

He got his long sleep, at least, but he hadn't expected to wake up soaking wet. Did he piss himself and fall out of bed? A quick survey brought relief because no he did neither of those things, but this sure felt really wrong?

He brings a hand to his head with a groan, finally trying to open up his eyes.]

What the hell?

2) arrival ; wandring around/inn - ota

[The rest of the morning is something of a blur of shuffling around in crappy green scrubs, disheveled hair, and a face full of cuts and bruises. His head hurt like it never had before and his brain wasn't properly processing things or something. Either shit had gotten even weirder, he was hallucinating from a concussion, or he was having a very realistic dream.

He's a sight walking down the street, taking in the environment and coming away with nothing helpful.

Why is this his life?

At least he finally manages to wander into the most obviously inhabited building, pushing open the front door and heading inside the inn. There's people around, and most of them don't look crazy or hostile, but at this point that's the lowest on his list of worries. He's thirsty, hungry and sore and anything that could alleviate any of those things was all he really cared about at that moment.]