sixthiterationlogs | welcome to the end of eras ; ota

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

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.]

Threaded | Flat

[ the scrubs are always a dead giveaway that someone is new, especially since frank doesn't keep as close of tabs as he once did. that man still seems a world away, and according to some of the theories floating around after the bunker's discovery: he was. mayor hotdog is not frank castle, at least, not this version of him. and yet he has the bracelet from reims strapped around his wrist, denoting him as leader of a place that probably no longer exists, if it ever did. on the other wrist is a teal communicator, a few shades brighter and bluer than steve's, visible as he flips water goose eggs in the pan over one of the only electric stoves in the village.

there's a blocky gray pit bull waiting patiently by the table as frank stirs hash in another pan, folding in vegetables and cheese he'd harvested himself. not only did jogging really suck, but it made him like twice as hungry as usual. there's coffee, previously brewed, sitting off near the sink to cool that steve might smell first as he walks in. the man is large and imposing even with his back turned, long hair and beard visible past his bright teal hoodie.

he hears the boy the moment he steps in, but doesn't think much of it. aloe the pit bull growls lowly though and it's the only reason he looks up, quieting the dog with a raised hand. and sure enough, who should walk in but someone he knows, yet again. someone he already assumes won't know him. but if steve's here, does that mean so too is nancy? mike? it forms a lump in his throat just thinking about it. ]

Hungry? [ it's all he says before turning away and cracking two more eggs into the pan. since frank doesn't view steve as a threat, the dog is popping up off the ground to sniff him all over, intent on vetting him anyway. ]

[Doing his best to set up his own life in this place, Bobo has at least made himself at home by snagging a fur coat that someone he'd met on arriving had shown him, and a tee shirt from one of the drops that others had told him about. So he cuts a disturbing figure wandering back down from the north with a sack of the tubers that grow up there wearing red scrub pants, a black tee, and a full length fur coat in some dark fur. At least he felt more like himself.

Preparing to hit up the blacksmith to see about the possibility of a device to let off the gasses when he gets that far, he sees someone that looks well, like something the cat drug in. He pauses, arching a brow and looking the boy over.]

You get hit with a grenade too before this place?

[ Steph has been wandering around the bunker since it was confirmed that the place was unoccupied (by strangers) and unguarded. She still keeps her weapons on her, but she never goes anywhere without them.

She heads to the tube room when she hears a mechanical sound. There are a couple of things nearby that might do that, but the tube room does seem to be getting new residents and that deserves first priority.

It's not hard to spot which tube is occupied, and she moves quickly to activate the control that opens the tube for him. ]

Hey. You alright?

[ If he is looking for someone who doesn't look too crazy the Bull might not have been who he wanted to see. The Qunari is well over seven feet tall and built like a brick house, and there are the grey skin and horns to make it worse. But he is smiling as he walks towards the inn from the small house he's claimed as his. ]

Hello.

[ It isn't hard to guess that the guy was new, the scrubs and the lost look were clues. And Bull has been keeping an eye out for new people anyway. ]

New here?

[ Sitting off to the side with an empty mug from some tea earlier, Asch was quietly looking over the guide book. It was the single most boring book he's ever skimmed through. He looked up when Steve came in. He stayed quiet as he looked over the book while others spoke to the new comer. At least he wasn't the new guy anymore.

He still totally was but not the freshest.

After a little while he got up, leaving the book where it was, making his way over to wherever he had been left to eat and drink, dressed in his black scrubs, his long red hair was a bit out of control today, but he needed to find a comb. He'd live for now. He stopped at the table and looked to the new guy, as he asked the obvious. ]

Guessing you just arrived?

ota

wandering about

arrival if that's ok?

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