Logs:Of Supplies and Safety (Or, Be Kind Please Rewind)

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Of Supplies and Safety (Or, Be Kind Please Rewind)
Dramatis Personae

Kavalam, Kelawini

2020-11-22


"But come morning we go try fo find some food."

Location

<ME> Across the Rift - Blockbuster - Bangor, ME


It's getting late, and though the temperature outside is hovering just above freezing it's warmer here in the depths of the abandoned storefront. Not very much warmer, unfortunately, even with the broken windows stopped up and cardboard boxes dragged out from the back for bedding. Kelawini has staked a spot behind the register and is doing her best to make a nest of packing materials. She's still bundled up, her black coat buttoned up tight over red skinny jeans, pink circle scarf pulled up partially over her head like a hood, and it seems likely she's just going to be sleeping in her boots tonight, if she sleeps at all. Finally, she seems satisfied--or at least too exhausted to continue fussing -- and huddles down into layers of bubble wrap and cardboard.

Kavalam isn't making even a small attempt at sleeping. He's been tucked by a window for a while, staring blankly out into the empty street. He moves at some movement from outside, scooting away to settle on the floor, against the wall opposite the register. His knees pull up to his chest, arms wrapping tight around his shins. His arms are a little shaky, eyes kind of wide and skittish as they skim between the others in the room. Back to the windows. Back away.

Kelawini manages to keep still for only a few moments, then she's back up again, trying to make her nest a bit more comfortable. About half-way through this operation she just stops, sitting back on her heels. She looks over at Kavalam when he moves, looks down at her makeshift bedding, chews on her bottom lip. Her hands are shaking and she braces them on her knees. "Eh," she whispers finally, waving him over. "Warmer here wi' all dis. C'mon."

Kavalam looks over to Kelawini's nest. Then around to the others. Back to the nest. His head shakes, though he does shift slightly closer to the registers. He speaks low, doesn't bother to whisper -- though even in close proximity his spoken voice doesn't stir even the slightest bit of notice from the other kids around the room. "Everyone here will have a very bad morning. No food, really."

Kelawini sighs, resumes shuffling her bedding around and then settles back down, though curled against the register and facing Kavalam this time. She works her hands respectively into the opposing sleeves of her coat and tries to be still again so that she does not crinkle. "Bad either way," she agrees grimly. "But come morning we go try fo find some food."

"Tss. Morning." Kavalam's fingers squeeze down against his shins. "You really want to try and herd this lot to get food come morning? My god. The giant oaf? The enormous scorpion? That aggravating half-wit? It will be a miracle if they do not get you all killed." He's unfolding, slowly, to his feet. "You will have chaos enough to deal with down the line, no? This one small thing we can maybe hold off a few hours. Food, I can get."

Kelawini snorts softly, but if she's inclined to disagree she does not say so. "Eventually we gotta to herd them somewhere, but--" Her eyes widen, darting to the front of the store and the hostile world beyond. Her mouth opens again then closes. She scrambles to her feet and goes to him as if she means to come along. But then, in a reluctant uncertain whisper, "Easier you go alone, huh?" Abruptly she pulls off her scarf and presses it into his hands. "Try stay safe."

Kavalam's head wobbles side to side. "I'm good at that." He takes the scarf, his hand pressing into Kelawini's a few beats longer than necessary. He hesitates, drawing a quick breath as he looks at her -- then the other kids scattered through the store. Back to Kelawini, as he loops the scarf about his neck. The sudden flux of his power is intense -- he's out of sight before he's even taken a step. Out of mind, too -- not just this conversation but his presence in the entire evening blotted out of memory as he slips off into the night.