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WHO: Ravi Chakrabarti
WHERE: Outside Ravi's House
WHEN: February 4th
OPEN TO: All
WARNINGS: Lightning Storm
STATUS: Open

The auroras and the lightning have seemed harmless. It's beautiful, of course, but Ravi's so occupied with the science behind this place that he doesn't even pay much mind to what's in the sky. It's just another component of what might be a simulation. Then, all of a sudden, the lightning isn't so pretty when it's getting close enough to scare him to death, stealing sleep away from Ravi. It's put him on edge, obviously, he'd be an idiot not to be, but what he hadn't been expecting was for things to continue on in this general bad direction.

He'd been cleaning up from some tests on the local foliage (using spring water to see what growth rates it could yield) when suddenly, his house explodes, a concussive blast that forcibly knocks him off his feet, one of the front walls having burst in. Not just that, but there are singed wires in the walls exposed, on fire, and it takes him a moment to realize what's just happened.

His hair is practically standing on end, the particles around him so supercharged, and he knows, right this moment, that his house has been struck by the sort of intense lightning that causes this sort of damage. It's paranoia and true fear that sends him skittering out of the house, bundling up a bag of whatever he can grasp, rushing outside and tripping in his clumsy struggle to escape before another bolt can hit and kill him, the way it had done to Ren.

He ends up curled up on the ground, his possessions around strewn around him, and all logic and sanity goes out the window as he curls up in the fetal position, hands protecting his head as sparks start to shoot off his skin. "I have lived through too much shit to die like this," he moans out loud, rocking a little. "If I'm cooked to a crispy Chakrabarti, make sure someone commemorates me with a beautiful drawing." Internally, he adds, and please, please don't let anyone turn me into a charred zombie.

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From a scientific perspective, the lightning phenomenon that's been occurring the last several days should be thrilling. Actual, verifiable ball lightning? It's rare enough in nature as it is, but displaying with such frequency? If we had the equipment to measure and study what's been happening in the atmosphere, it would be fantastic.

But beyond the most rudimentary tools, we don't have any equipment, and we don't have what we very badly need to ensure our own safety.

A man is dead, and we're all on edge.

I'm walking down the road when I see the flash, and I don't even think before I'm running toward Ravi's house, a ghostly afterglow drifting across my vision.

"Are you okay?" I call before I've even reached him, not knowing if I need to turn right around and bolt off to find Helen.

Ravi's got his eyes shut tightly, trying not to open them for fear that he's going to see another bright, visceral flash that has him wetting his underthings in a terrifying lack of decency. He pokes his finger behind him in what he hopes is the direction of his house, still not daring to open his eyes. "House, exploded," he manages, still trying to catch his breath.

He suspects this may be a panic attack the likes of which he hasn't had since the time he thought he'd been about to be zombie kibble. "Am I alive? You're not my guardian angel, are you?"

"Barring the possibility that this village is actually the afterlife, yes, I think it's safe to say that we're both alive," I reply with a soft, relieved chuckle. "Whether or not I'm a guardian angel remains to be seen."

I reach for him, hands gentle but firm in an effort to help him up, make sure there aren't actually any injuries that aren't immediately obvious.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you my habitat on Mars exploded and nearly killed me?"

"I deserve a better afterlife than this," Ravi grumbles into his arm, breathing in and then out slowly, peeking past his little ball in order to look at the house in question. In the moment, it had all seemed rather explosive and dramatic. Now that he looks at it, the ball lightning seems to have carved one very dramatic hole in his home and that's it.

Apparently, in the heat of the moment (literally), Ravi had perhaps thought himself under fire. "I feel worse for you, to be honest," he says, finally prying himself out of his curled up position, leaning on Mark to try and get back to his feet. "Honestly, the more you tell me about Mars, the more I wonder if you didn't offend an ancient Roman god who was aiming to get his revenge on you on his planet. Have you thought about not angering Ares?"

"I was there, so I definitely feel worse for me, too," I say with a smirk, making sure he's steady on his feet before I let him go. He doesn't seem to have been struck himself, but anyone would be shaken up after something like that.

"Well," I add after a moment, casting a considering glance to the house, "at least you already have a new place to live lined up?"

"You mean, a hole in the wall isn't actually a desirable home space?" he notes wryly, shaking a little from the shock of what's just happened. It takes him a second to catch up, brain taking a while to get there. "I'm glad you're ready to take me in, without an exhaustive interview process, given how messy I can be with my homes," he deadpans, gesturing to the mess that is absolutely not his fault, this time.

"I don't suppose you want to help me put out those fires," he says, starting to worry about the possessions he has in there, namely the medical and science supplies. Luckily, the fires seem to be small and burning themselves out, but he'd rather not leave it to chance.

Edited 2017-02-17 16:32 (UTC)

"Between the two of us, Helen may come to regret this decision," I say with a soft chuckle and considering nod to the mess. God only knows if the three of us in one house is going to work, but with shared interests and all the new people coming in, it just makes sense to find out.

"I guess we'd better," I agree with a sigh. "You have some blankets we can use?" There's water in the kitchen and bathroom, of course, but blankets might be easier. Less running back and forth.

"I've never been very fond of the curtains," is what he says instead, heading inside and trying not to let his hands shake too badly as he starts to yank them down, trying to ignore the part of his mind reminding him about the last time he'd felt this emotionally and physically shaken. Instead, he focuses on the fires, grateful that they don't look so large and that he can start moving inventory in the process.

He manages to get mostly everything into a pile near to the door, grateful that nothing looks like it might blow and take the whole home with it, so there's that. "I'm still shaking," he says, when he stops moving long enough to see it. "I think I might still be in shock."

"Ravi, sit down," I say with a knowing glance his way. "Or walk around, if that's what you need to do until the adrenaline ebbs. Point is, I've got the rest of this."

Fortunately, the fires are small and not spreading too quickly -- The snow has stopped, but the whole area is still pretty water-logged, and thank god for that. We could have had several really dangerous fire situations otherwise.

"You have any kind of box or bag I can put this stuff in to carry over to Helen's?" I ask with a motion to the pile by the door.

Ravi settles himself down precariously on the nearest flat surface he finds, which happens to be a strange little part of the house that juts out like a bench. He rests his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as he tries to ignore the gaping hole in his wall and remind himself that he should just be happy he didn't get hit.

"There's a few boxes in the back," he directs, leaning forward. "Avoid the one with the rat droppings, though," he says, thinking he really should throw that out, but it's not like they have a handy landfill going to recycle everything.

"How about I empty the rat droppings out in the back yard?" I suggest, because last I checked they were mostly-dry pellets, and I am the last person in this place to waste something as useful as a box.

"I'll line the bottom with a towel or something. What do you want to do about the actual rats? You want to move them now or later?"

"I should probably take them now," he admits, "the longer they're with me, the longer I can maintain the controlled environment." Not that he thinks it's very controlled anymore, not after that lightning strike, which he suspects has introduced a brand new phobia into all of them, if they're clever little things and they are. "Take any of the boxes from the gifts," he directs, "I've unpacked everything, but most of it goes back in now, I suppose," he admits.

Glaring at the broken wall for a moment, then skywards, he wonders if this is some sort of signal or message. "Do you believe in God?" he wonders. "Only, if this is God or Zeus or some deity trying to tell me something, I need a little more to go on than just 'we have destroyed your abode'."

"Not really," I admit as I step to the back of the house. After a moment of looking, I find the boxes and step out the back door to toss out the rat droppings before heading back to Ravi.

"Given what happened to Kylo Ren's house, I'd say Zeus would be the better bet of those two, but I'm pretty sure the more likely explanation is the people keeping us here." If it is people. I don't know why I'd assume this has to be man-made; stubbornness, I guess.

"I keep thinking about why the bolts are making contact," Ravi admits, since that's what's been bugging him. "At home, it's as good a chance as getting hit by lightning as finding a pearl in an oyster, yet people here are throwing all the statisticians out of whack," he says, and if this were normal, he'd be writing a paper instantly to try and prove some number-cruncher wrong. "It's made me start to wonder if there isn't something in our physical environment acting as a rod," he says. "Maybe our boots, for all we know, have something in them."

And yet, to Mark's point, why? "Is it to scare us to be subservient? If so, obedient for what purpose?"

"I don't know, but it's something I've been thinking about," I say as I stoop to start loading items into the boxes. It still smells like smoke in here, and I glance around, afraid I've missed a little fire somewhere. But no, it's just the char.

"I think it would be well worth it for us to sit down with the list of people struck and collect as much information as we can on each of them. Start with the more severe cases first. Find out what they've been doing since they got here, what plans they might have had. See what connections we might be able to make and then compare it to the broader population."

It was no secret that Kylo Ren had been trying to get out of this place. Electrocuting someone to death is definitely an effective way to make sure they stay where they are.

Ravi sets his mind to helping, mainly because it keeps him from thinking about tremors and worrying about how close he'd come to being blown to pieces, like Ren. "It's times like these I wish I had a full lab," he says. "What I wouldn't give to do full workups on their blood." Still, there is something else to consider. "Did they all share the same colour of clothing?" he wonders, trying to recall.

Then again, he does remember that Ren had black scrubs, like Ravi, and if he's thinking of it that way, maybe he needs to move underground, for a while. "Honestly, after all of this, I don't want anyone to call me mad if I start building a bunker."

"I don't think so, but Helen might be a better person to ask about that. Or Rory," I answer of the scrubs. "Not that they would necessarily have been wearing them at the time anyway. But it's a possibility worth ruling out, if nothing else."

Pausing in packing the boxes, I glance back to Ravi. "If you've got a target on your back, maybe this living together thing isn't such a great idea after all," I say with a laugh. "You think you can keep the attempts on your life to your part of the house?"

Ravi will have to check in with them and see if there are some sort of patterns that he's been missing this whole time, though it could be nonsensical and hidden, for all he knows. It's hardly like this place goes out of its way to make sense, after all. "Excuse me, Mr. Stuck On Mars," Ravi retorts, his sarcasm light and without any real malice.

"We're a communal disaster house, thank you very much," he says. "It's equal parts bad luck going in."

"Hey, you know what? We both made it out alive, so maybe we should just take this as a glass half full situation," I shoot back. "I mean, it's possible Helen has had something really horrible happen to her I don't know about, but from where I'm sitting, we may be the luckiest house in the whole village."

I pause, peering down at the now-filled box. "Are we ready to move this now? I'm kind of thinking maybe we should save it for another time." Ravi's already looking better, but I'm not convinced he shouldn't be laying down for awhile anyway.

"Yeah, let's just get it done," Ravi agrees, because even though he might be shaky, he can only imagine what it's going to be like when he actually sits down and processes everything that's just happened to him. The last thing he needs is to be worried about Zeus coming down from on high to finish the job, so he picks up his first two boxes and hefts them up, giving Mark a nod of his head.

"Onwards," he says. "Before we get struck again," is his worried comment.

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