OTA; turned a whiter shade of pale

[debrains]

WHO: Blaine DeBeers
WHERE: fountain, then around South Village
WHEN: 12/4, day and night
OPEN TO: OTA!
WARNINGS: potential talk of zombiedom, unless you've opted out

---

i. arrival; fountain

Blaine awakens with a start. This is not his luxurious cal-king bed with its absurdly high thread count sheets and down comforter. No, no, it cannot be, because he's freezing, and oddly weightless. When he opens his eyes he screams, but as he realizes instantly, he's underwater and no one can hear him. He is drifting upwards however, towards the light... okay. It's not like he can technically drown but he sure can inhale water and suffocate on it and that'll hurt like a bitch, so Blaine starts kicking. Something is weighing him down, a weight on his back, but he'll deal with that once he's breaking actual air again. He's already wasted most of what was in his lungs and when he breaks the surface of the water his chest is screaming in agony. It could be worse, he tells his body ruthlessly, I could have raged out, I could have inhaled. As it is he's just cold. So, so cold, and from the looks of it, about to be colder.

Kicking, kicking, Blaine makes his way to the edge of the fountain to pull himself up, breath puffing in front of him. This is inherently dangerous, zombies are prone to freezing and Blaine knows that all too well. What kind soul would drag him inside to thaw him back out, if he did? And how the hell did he get to the bottom of a fountain, anyway? One leg at a time he hauls himself over the stone edge and checks himself over. There's a pack on his back, and he's dressed in... scrubs? Scrubs?! Who would dare? At least they're red, he supposes, he looks good in red. But not at the moment, he's certain he looks more like a drowned rat than anything, and rakes his dripping hair back from his forehead.

He needs to get inside somewhere warm, quickly. The shock of the cold is going to make that difficult, but Blaine is a survivor. He can make it. It'd just be easier with a little help...

ii. later; around town

The first place Blaine is drawn to after claiming a house (as close to the center of town as he can get, he does not enjoy the idea of hiking through the inevitable snow constantly to get to where he wants to be) and getting dry is the Inn. He spots smoke coming out of its chimney and correctly assumes there's a fireplace -- it turns out to be a big one, and he doesn't bother ordering anything first as he has no way to pay anyway. Just beelines to the fire to warm himself, glancing around at whoever else might be here for other purposes. Or those doing the same thing as him. It's a nice cozy fire, after all.

He gets the rundown soon enough. How the device on his wrist works, how the village operates, for the most part. After using it and hearing from Liv, Blaine realizes he's going to need to play nice. He's going to need to contribute, which... is fine. It's been said he's not a team player, and it's the truth, but in the name of self preservation, Blaine DeBeers will do anything. And if he's rewarded for it, he'll keep doing it. So next he heads to the butcher shop to offer his services. Ideally he'll find a hunter or two to bargain with: he'll do the messy work, in exchange for a little meat and some of the offal. Brains are a delicacy, didn't you know? If they're willing to teach him to hunt for himself, that's all the better, he'd prefer to be less dependent, but the situation is what it is. He's never used a bow before, only guns and knives.

Other places of interest to him are the library, though he's disappointed to find it's mostly instructional guides and not literature, and the forge, where he's heard there's someone skilled and potentially willing to make things. He's also invested in noting the habits of the locals. Zombies don't need all that much sleep so even though it's colder in the dark Blaine can be found strolling around at night, just wanting to see who's out and about. Learning everyone's schedules. He'll wander back to the Inn to keep his cover as a bored insomniac but this is as tactical as anything he does. Who else is out and about?

iii. south village; ice mice

One (more) thing that Blaine didn't count on in this place -- though he probably should have because it's not like this place's apparent era had adequate pest control -- was brazen vermin. He sees the little mice running around and doesn't think that they'll beeline straight for him, especially since he's not carrying food or anything. And yet that's exactly what this mouse does, and despite Blaine skittering back like he's worried about catching plague from it, it manages to hit the toe of his boot.

Then he's encased in ice. It's a good thing he doesn't strictly need to breathe, but much like his waking up in the fountain, he's a fan of breathing. Why does this place keep denying him oxygen? It's just rude.

That's not what triggers the fire power, though, it's the panic that he's going to freeze straight through thanks to his zombie physiology, and of course he's out wandering at night when this happens so the odds of someone coming across him before morning are slimmer. This does mean, however, that the burst of flame that melts the ice and flares around him is very noticeable in the dark, as is his shout. Anyone who investigates will find a very confused, damp zombie, his clothes steaming a bit. Why didn't he rage out? It's for the best, but... what? And where on earth did that fire come from? And where did the mouse go?! Blaine has questions.

iv. wildcard

(( Got another idea? I'm up for anything! ))

Comments

Fountain

[living_proof]

I am not here on purpose. I want that out there just as a side remark, established as a fact in case anyone is wondering. I'm not camping out at the fountain waiting to see if certain people I know might reappear, again, because that would be sad. And cold. But mostly sad.

No, I am, in fact, just taking a shortcut. That's it. On my way to the inn, minding my own business, definitely not looking to be anybody's welcome wagon because I would be really crappy at it right now.

Guess it's a good thing that the person I actually spot dragging himself from the water is someone I wouldn't welcome anyway. Except how it's actually not a good thing AT ALL and kind of makes me want to scream. Because apparently Ravi and Major going poof isn't enough, I have to get the universe's most irritating salt rubbed in the wound.

And that's why I really don't think I can be blamed for running right up to the man who would be my nemesis if having a nemesis was even a thing for me, and just shoving him. No barbaric yawp, no snarky comment, just an angry shove that sends him splashing back into the water.

I also add a bird flipped at the sky, just in case anybody's watching. What? They totally deserve it.

[debrains]

Blaine is still catching his breath when movement catches his eye -- someone approaching. A very familiar someone, he realizes a moment too late. She's already running and he barely gets out, "Liv--?!" before he's being knocked backwards, straight back into the goddamn fountain.

Oddly enough, the water feels warmer now that he's been out of it. But this time he does get a lungful and when he pops back up he's spluttering and spitting it out, hacking up frigid H2O.

"Thanks, I hate it!" he shouts at her when he's got actual air back in his lungs, treading water just by the edge for a moment longer this time. It's very difficult, with the pack and boots, but what's the point in climbing back out right away just to be shoved back in unexpectedly? So he just struggles for a moment, glaring at her. "You're a shitty welcome wagon."

[living_proof]

"Why are you here?" I yell back, despite the sheer irrationality of the question. It really doesn't matter to me that objectively, Blaine couldn't have had anything to do with ending up in this place; if anyone was enough of a manipulative dick to be in on that whole bunker dog-and-pony show, it's him.

Before he can answer, I let out a sound of pure, growling frustration, fingers balling up into tiny, shaking fists before I splay them out again with an indignantly-huffed sigh. Spinning on my heel, I crunch across the pavers and begin talking to the sky like that one guy who used to panhandle outside the McDonald's downtown.

"This is NOT what I ordered!" I snap with an upward flip of one hand, and that's very nearly it. I almost just keep going and leave him there to his own, undoubtedly revolting devices.

Except I can't. Because he's a friggin' zombie.

I halt halfway across the courtyard, pull in a deep breath through my nose. With a roll of my eyes, I turn back.

"Are you coming or are you going to start swimming laps?"

[debrains]

"I wish I knew!" Blaine reaches up to grip the edge of the fountain to help hold himself up, shivering. "Who the hell are you talking to? Is there a drone up there for our kidnapper to watch, or are you having a religious awakening?"

He's not sure if his words are what make her turn around or not, but she's walking away until she isn't... and asks if he's getting out of the fountain. Well. That's up to you, Liv, isn't it? The shiver is in his voice a bit now, but at least the water temp must be slightly above freezing. He'll be okay, just uncomfortable.

"That depends, are you just going to shove me back in again?"

[living_proof]

Blaine is floating there with his teeth practically chattering, and it's fantastic, and I've got to tell you, there have been very few moments when my physicians oath felt like more of a killjoy than right now. But it's still a thing, and I still feel a twinge of guilt — Not about Blaine suffering, but about even considering breaking the oath — so fine.

FINE.

"You know, the window for me to not is closing really quickly, so make up your mind, Snowflake," I snap back, gesticulating toward the path. "Polar Plunge or warm building. What's it gonna be?"

Butcher shop

[fooloftheking]

In seeking to find a way to channel his natural, or really actually unnatural, aggression, Bobo threw himself into the butcher shop that had apparently been abandoned by someone else. Now it's at least in functional condition, with a smokehouse build outback, Watney's soap on the counter, and a tallow pit that Bobo has plans to try and use for candlemaking.

There's also a couple of pans that he snagged from someone's kitchen, lined up on one counter in the back with labels on them. Romero on one and Tanning on the other. Because if he's going to be useful while working on not snapping at the village, then so be it. Also, he's really kind of amused that zombies are real. Not that demons have much room to talk, he supposes.

There's no bell over the door, but behind the counter is fairly open to the back room where Bobo is working on dismembering several rabbit-esque creatures he'd caught in snares. Being here, working, it's easier than dealing with the tension at home, though when he hears the door open, his eyes close briefly.

"I swear to God if that is Vasquez and you're not on two legs, we're going to have a damn fight," he calls, not stopping what he's doing with a sharp knife that came with the building.

[debrains]

"Is this Vasquez fellow big on crawling?" Blaine asks casually from the doorway of the back room, because this guy did just call out a threat with a knife in his hand. Not that he's concerned, but it's better to look concerned, is it not? "Either way I'm not him, my name's DeBeers. Blaine DeBeers, I was hoping to speak with the manager. But not in the angled bob sort of way -- I was a butcher in a past life, hoping for some kind of a job. Do you know if this place needs a hand? Lots of hunters around, I've heard."

This fellow is quite the adept butcher himself, it's possible he's the one in charge as much as anyone's in charge of anything here. Blaine was told it's more of a survivalist commune, but hope springs eternal or some such nonsense. He watches the stranger tossing rabbit-y creatures around and his stomach growls but not for the meat.

He swears to whatever deity exists, if he starts hopping...

[fooloftheking]

Bobo's head snapped up at the new voice, definitely not the one he's expecting, looking them over curiously. Definitely no one he's ever seen around, and he's slow in taking a look at him as he slowly lowers the knife to the wood counter.

"Can't say we really have a manager," he admits, giving him another look before moving over to the sink and the water on with the curve of his wrist to wash his hands. "I just kind of started doing it because no one else was. Lots of hunters. Some can handle their own, but not everyone so figured it was better having someone doing this than them throwing away shit we could use," he says, grabbing a rag to dry his hands and then offering his hand to the newcomer.

"Bobo Del Rey, and you're as welcome to the place as anyone. I'm working on finishing off the smokehouse out back, and Watney comes by for supplies and makes the soap around here but with winter coming could be good having several working on not having this place turn into the Donner Party."

[debrains]

"Well it's great to meet you, Bobo. Waste not want not, am I right? Especially in winter when we're hunting out own game, we should use every part we can." Every. Part. Blaine decides not to get into specifics right now, just enters the back room and shakes Bobo's now-clean hand, then takes it upon himself to look around. It's... old world, that's for sure, but even without a band saw or electric grinder, he thinks he can make do. There's a good assortment of knives and cleavers, some saws, workable stuff. He sort of gives himself a tour, nodding along to an internal commentary, until he spots the pan with a rather familiar sounding label....

"Romero? That a customer? Of sorts, I know this town isn't what I'm used to."

Out and About at Night

[imareporter]

Venom is thinking about what Tony and Anne suggested. Revealing itself. It wouldn't need to put Eddie in danger, but his human half deserves to have a say too and Venom can't bring itself to discuss it with him.

He has enough to worry about. There's something about Christmas that makes Eddie sad and Venom doesn't want to worry him. It's been enough of a burden. He wants to protect him. Between Anne and Eddie, human drama, all of this...

Dragging a dead deer, he bares his teeth. It can't be attacked. It deserves to be devoured so Eddie would be safe.

Crouching in an alleyway, it begins to dismember the corpse, methodically dismembering the creature while sitting in the soft mud. Spine, organs, all the delicious soft parts.

Stupid. Stupid humans

[debrains]

It's dark -- Blaine doesn't have a lantern or anything, he's navigating by moonlight and thus stepping carefully as he wanders the city but he feels at this point his eyes have adjusted. Which is why when he investigates the sound of something being dragged, then wet crunching and tearing, he's expecting to see either a person or some sort of predator down the alley. Curiosity may have killed the cat (and him, once or twice) but he peeks around the corner cautiously. If it wasn't a murderer maybe it's a wolf. Cougar? Whatever analogs exist around these parts, nothing is exactly what he's familiar with.

But it's none of those things. It's an inky black figure with many, many teeth. Blaine's eyes go wide and he presses himself flat against the side of the building hoping it didn't notice his footsteps approaching or his pale head. Can he get away while it's still working on that deer?

Of course not, because as soon as he tries to sneak away he steps on some broken glass, the crunch high and distinctive. And right at the mouth of the alley.

...shit.

strolling at night

[locum_tenens]

Niska doesn't sleep. It's not required for her and she'd fully charged last night, which gives her a great deal of free time to explore the village in the darkest parts of night, when no one else is there. Strangely, though, tonight that doesn't seem to be the case, when Niska comes across someone else, wandering in much the same fashion as she seems to be.

That's not necessarily suspicious in itself, but it is intriguing. Pausing just outside of the shadows of the next home, Niska waits until he's closer to catch his attention. "It seems you enjoy moonlit walks through the village," she notes, with mild sarcasm in her words.

[debrains]

Perhaps Niska would disagree, but Blaine hasn't come across much to explore just yet that's any different from how it is in daylight. This woman, though. He continues nonchalantly, wondering if she'll flag him down or if he'll have to tip his hat first. (He doesn't have one, but that's what they did back in the olden days, right? Blaine is trying to be thematically appropriate, it's an aesthetic.) When she does he grins a little, gesturing grandly at the dark village in response to her sarcasm. As if to say look around, what's not to enjoy?

A lot, really. Like that he's freezing.

"It's a bit cold but better a moonlit walk than a night of wall-staring. I couldn't sleep. How about you?"

[locum_tenens]

While she can feel temperature on her skin, Niska doesn't actually register the cold in any way that impacts her. If anything, it helps with her processing systems, because while David Elster had been very clever, extreme heats can still harm her.

The hoodie she wears now is more a token of feigning humanity, but it gives her a chance to hide in it, to a degree.

"I'm a night owl," she deadpans. "Have you found anything worth talking about?"

[debrains]

"Well I'd say you're clearly a night lady, but that has a different connotation. Owl it is." He shakes his head, glancing around the quiet city. "Nothing of note so far, just a few fellow insomniacs out for a stroll. We should start a club or something, it'd be less lonely and less cold in the meantime."

Inn + Hunter

[championofsnark]

Hawke may have moved to a house, but she still is regularly in and out of the inn. Either to check on their storage, or to have lunch when it's served every day. She has been scouting up north again, so there's some light dirt on her face from the journey, but that's nothing new. She does have the appearance of a hunter; the bow in her hand and arrows slung in a makeshift pouch on her back really sell the career. Dark hair is braided and out of the way, and there may be a spot or two of blood on her journeying clothes since she doesn't wash them daily. A real waste of water, that.

She knows new people mostly on sight, or at least new to her. She does know a great deal about who is in the village. She spots the strange bloke and after snatching up a bite of lunch, she comes over to the fire. Her bow and arrows are carefully set down nearby, and her smilie is friendly. "Hello there, either you're new or I missed a few people lately, which is always possible. Or you're on of the oldies who rarely comes out from their cabins." She suspects there are a few she's never seen somewhere.

[debrains]

This is all a massive adjustment for Blaine. He misses technology, that's for sure, and his comforts. A hedonist through and through, basically all he can do that's nice for himself here is sit by the fire, and so that's what he's doing. Keeping warm, people-watching, maybe flagging down anyone who looks interesting for a chat and sizing up. But he's actually just lost in thought when Hawke approaches, and has to glance up with a blink to give her the once-over.

Oooh. A hunter? One who seems like they're angling for a welcome wagon, too, probably the helpful type. He smiles back, offering a little nod.

"You were right first try, I'm very new. So new I don't quite know what to do with myself yet -- my name's Blaine. Please, have a seat. Tell me about yourself, maybe I'll get an idea."

[championofsnark]

Hawke's a little surprised, delightfully so, because on the whole she tends to be a bit too friendly for people. Not that it's stopped her from taking a seat and chattering until they warm up, but it's definitely easier if they seem right up front friendly too. She takes the seat offered with a bright smile. "Welcome to the madness, Blaine. I'm Hawke. With an E at the end." She's taken to specifying that after people kept spelling it Hawk or assuming it was exactly like the bird. Not that it's a problem, just a mistake.

She flips her braid over the other shoulder, considering what to say. "Let's see. I'm a hunter, Queen of the Hunters I like to say here, although there's no flower crown available. I was a mercenary and expert stabber, but there's less stabbing to be done here." Hawke sometimes misses having missions to do, but not so much the killing. Mostly. "This technology is completely unknown to me, we don't have anything like this, or even like electricity. But we do have magic. A load of magic. And dragons!" She always has to bring dragons into it sooner or later. "I can mostly answer questions about this place, unless you want to talk about the philosophy or science in which case I have no idea."

[debrains]

When Blaine's hamming it up with his upstanding citizen act, nobody's too friendly. And in this place... it's also pretty genuine, because he needs allies. Even if he does eventually find her overbearing, the less he has to actively work to charm people the better. He may be good at it, but it's tiring.

"Hawke with an e, I've got it. It's in the vault now." He listens to her chatter about herself curiously, surprised by how open she is. Does she really go around telling everyone she was a mercenary? And no one judges? That's unexpected, to Blaine, he's used to a great deal of judgment surrounding such professions and that wasn't even his. Hm.

Wait. Magic and dragons? He's going to circle back to that.

"Well I've got the science down, where I'm from is way more advanced that most of this. Maybe the watches are about right. But I do have questions for you now. Many questions... we'll go one at a time, when you say philosophy do you mean nobody at all has any clue what we're doing here? We haven't been contacted by our kidnappers or anything? No threats or let's play a game going on?"

iii. ice mice

[tothefly]

This village does seem to have more than its share of insomniacs, or at least professed insomniacs. Natasha's sure more than a few of them are on patrol, much like she is, too used to having watches to not be watching, and like them she doesn't tend to admit it. Honestly, the nights she doesn't run into anyone are rare, which is why she's not entirely surprised to meet anyone, but that incredibly large burst of fire and the accompanying yell are definitely new.

She breaks into a run almost without thinking of it, comm raised to call a message to Steve or Frank with a sitrep, but when she arrives on the scene, all that's left is one slightly steaming, very confused, possibly-albino man. She doesn't get too close, just gets what look she can in the murky starlight, lifting her hands defensively in case he can't see.

"That looks way more impressive from the outside. Are you okay? Anything still frozen?" Her voice is cool, level, unsurprised; the kind of voice you want to hear in a crisis.

[debrains]

"Was it? I've been told I'm flashy," Blaine tells her, but even as clever a comment as it is it doesn't come off as cool as he wanted it to because he sounds bewildered still. He lifts his hands and wiggles his fingers, and it can be assumed he's doing the same to his toes in his boots because after a moment he shakes his head at Natasha.

"All defrosted, I think -- it didn't last long enough for me to freeze through, just gave me a shock. Was that the mouse? Watch out, I think it did go your way. Also what the hell just happened, did I start to spontaneously combust from weirdness? Always thought that was an urban legend."

Yes, he's chatty, even in times like this. He waves one of his now-thawed hands, though he's glancing around for more mice. There are no more mice but he's sure going to be looking down a lot from now on.

[tothefly]

"Yeah, the mice have been a fun and exciting new development," she says, watching as he tests all his limbs and doing a quick scan of the area for the small critter. "I can't tell if they're native to the island or if they're something introduced by the people who put us here, but the firepower is definitely all them. Be careful with it, though. You probably won't start a brushfire, it's too damp for that, but we've already had one house burn down because of an unfortunate incident." She lifts a hand, frowning slightly at her cupped palm until a small flame begins to build there. "Just takes focus. I'd start by mouse-proofing wherever you're staying, though. It's a lot safer than whatever this is." Her fingers close around the small flicker, extinguishing it. "Sure you're okay?"

around town

[borneinblood]

Blaine isn't the only one who has a habit of lurking through the village at night. Admittedly, Druitt tends to lurk just by general habit regardless of whether or not it's actually night time. But he's a good deal harder to spot coming, after nightfall, largely due to his habit of wearing all black when he can get away with it (which has been a lot easier than it might have otherwise been, given that the scrubs he'd arrived in had been black in the first place.) He's also wearing a long black coat over the whole ensemble and between and his habit of moving as quietly as someone his size can, and it's easy to see how someone might not spot him until he looms up out of a patch of shadow.

(Which is also something he tends to use to his advantage, though he isn't going to call direct attention to the fact either.)

Still, there's a polite nod once he draws near, and something approximating an easy smile to go with it.

"Going somewhere in particular? Or simply out for a stroll?"

It's... mostly idle curiosity that prompts the question, even if it's an odd sort of question to start with.

[debrains]

Another one? Blaine didn't even notice Druitt, easy enough considering how the man is dressed. He glances up at this next stranger, his mouth quirking into a wry but friendly grin.

"Just a stroll, I figured even in this weather it'd be better than staring at the walls all night... and I'm getting in some accidental socializing, apparently. There are way more people out in the dark and cold than I would have expected." He considers offering a hand to shake, but it really is cold out, so they stay in his pockets as he's bundled as much as he could manage "Name's Blaine, I'm new around here."

this is super late, and I apologize - the holidays kicked my ass what good

[borneinblood]

The lack of a handshake doesn't bother Druitt in the least. True, he would have been willing enough to take Blaine up on it if he had offered, but given the current weather neither is he going to complain. (Nor, for that matter, would he have even if it weren't distinctly chilly.)

"I can't say I'm surprised. There's hardly much else to do."

Staying indoors is certainly the warmer course of action. But save for seeing who else might be hanging out in the Inn, there's not a great deal of options either. Plus he can't imagine that he's the only person who isn't always inclined to staying still for any significant stretch of time.

"John," he offers a moment later, with a brief nod. "Has anyone given you an explanation of what to expect, here?"