Logs:Passing the Torch
| Passing the Torch | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-04-27 "You’re right though. We will figure it out." |
| Location
<MOR> Welcome to the Freakshow - Morlock Tunnels | |
Wider and more spacious than many of the surrounding nooks and niches, this chill cavern is the central hub of the Morlock's underground network. With tunnels branching off in many directions, it takes a while to learn to navigate from here to where you want to go, but there's generally plenty of more experienced people around to teach newcomers the ins and outs of the pathways. Here, though, is a safe place to come and relax, for what value of relaxation can be found among moss-covered walls and the occasional stagnant puddles on the floor. There's been furniture brought in, a mismatched assortment of crates, mattresses with busted springs, a few broken and subsequently repaired chairs, a folding table in a corner. Shelves along a wall hold entertainment; books, a smattering of board and card games, sometimes snacks. There's even electricity, wiring none too safe and visible in places where the wall has been broken open; the naked light bulbs flicker often and the lone outlet has had so many power strips attached it is undoubtedly a fire hazard. It's early breakfast time on Saturday morning, and Lumin is probably chillin a bit off to the side, maybe helping assist with breakfast making if that's usually a group activity. Lumin's probably being a bit of an ass about it though, like leaning in and being like "hmmmm maybe you should cook that more i DUNNO THAT'S JUST MEEE" And skedaddling off. In between critiquing others, and healing up some hairline fractures in their arm, their paranoia draws their eyes to the tunnel entrances. Watching and waiting. They haven't allowed themselves to relax just yet in their new home. There have been a considerable number of New Additions to the caverns as Freaktown has breathed its last gasps in the last few days, so hopefully the breakfast crew is preparing food for approximately eleventy billion people. That's how many it sounds like are coming down one of the side tunnels just now, although Nessie's many (many) feet echoing oddly off the walls may account for a good part of this. The remaining part does, in fact, come from a considerable troupe of New Monsters -- some bandaged, some still blood-spattered, most looking some combination of Exhausted and Dazed. Nessie is carrying a patient on her large shelled back, a rabbity-looking woman with extensive bandaging on one leg and white fur matted with blood. She crouches low on her arachnoid legs to let her cargo safely down, and leaves the New Crowd for a moment to just find themselves a corner to crash in she's beelining for the makeshift kitchen area. There are still numbers painted in drying blood on her carapace, though she looks unharmed. "Will there be enough. Food," she's asking slightly numbly as soon as she nears Lumin, the nearest Breakfast Crew she's run into. "There's a lot of -- people haven't -- haven't -- it's been a -- been a long morning." Nick is bringing up the rear of this rag-tag procession, and lingers a moment longer with them, too, rumbling soft reassurances. When he follows Nessie he is moving with none of his usual energetic ease, just a slow, determined plod. His muscular frame is slumped, his brown fur matted with dried blood and something dark blue, his right arm neatly bandaged and secured in a sling, his voice scratchy and rough when he speaks. "Think it's just as likely we'll have trouble getting them to eat enough." He sniffs at the breakfast in progress, but does not seem very tempted by it himself despite his usually voracious appetite. "Play it by ear, we can always send people back topside for more." There's a slight shift of motion somewhere along the ceiling, quick and vague at first but swiftly resolving into the shape of one still-waking-up lizard. Anole's little nook of a room is somewhere high and out of the way and, now, he's been lured out by the promise of food. The sudden influx of New People pulls his attention away from the cooking though. His clothes and skin are fading from the mottled dirty-rock grey-brown it's been while Mostly Asleep to the also kind of dirty grey-brown of an ancient faded pair of pajama pants and only slightly less ancient faded RENT tee shirt. By the time he's hit the floor he's green again, and looking over the others with growing dread before his eyes return -- to the blood on Nessie, to the bandaging on Nick. "I can make a supply run," he's offering promptly, and though the next question cracks slightly in his throat he's forcing it out anyway, his gaze fixed on the blue in Nick's fur. "Where's Taylor?" Lumin freezes when they hear the mob of steps making their way down. Their eyes dart over to the group entering the tunnels, and their eyes lock on Nessie. They don't move immediately, just staring and attempting to comprehend the state that the group has arrived in, but at her question and the sight of Nick, they shake free from their shock. "Ah- Yeah there's--food. But-Wait-hold on." They take stock of Nessie and Nick, eyes darting all over as if they don't know where to look, "Are you two alright? What's happened?" They ask, genuine concern showing clear on their face. They look between Anole, and then to where he's looking, at the blue on Nick. Their concern begins to shift into alarm. They don't voice the question. "Should probably do that anyway. People had to leave pretty quick, they'll need -- probably need -- clothes and." Nessie's arms curl around herself chest, first the slightly-more-human pair and then the considerably-less-so pincer-tipped ones. "The cops are clearing out Freaktown. They shot him." Her voice is still listless, tail flicking restlessly above her back. "Freaktown's gone and he's. Gone." Nick tenses subtly at the questions, and the droop of his shoulders when Nessie answers for him doesn't look very much like relief. "Shit, I hadn't even thought about clothes," he rasps, looking down at the blood crusted on his coat and only barely suppressing a distressed whine. "I should probably go rinse off." This sounds faintly skeptical, like a question he's posing to himself. Admittedly, his current condition probably calls for something a bit more extensive than "rinsing off". "After we make a list for Anole." Elizabeth makes her way down with the rest of the crew, looking just as dazed, every sound she's heard for the past... however many hours lingering in her head. She gives a brief visual inspection to make sure everyone is alive, and then she allows herself time to collapse (albeit seemingly dramatically, it is perfectly reasonable for the situation) and cry. She keeps the noise down though, not wanting to bother anyone else. The one time she had a chance at something even remotely resembling a steady life with a place to live, it's ripped out from underneath her. It fills her with anger, grief, and so many other emotions she doesn't even have words for. She lightly kicks a trashcan lid, trying not to have a full on outburst in front of already traumatized people, as reasonable as that would be. After she's done... emotionally regulating, she merely sits there, waiting for someone to come up to her and say 'hello, I am with the Morlocks, here is what we are going to do.' Anole is definitely not the person who is going to do that, today. As Nessie's words hit him he is for a moment just frozen in space, eyes wide. For the space of what should be several breaths he's not breathing, perhaps not really even seeing the people in front of him. It's the clattering trashcan lid that snaps him back out of it; he's skittered a few inches back up the wall, skin beginning to meld back into his surroundings, before he stops himself. "There's some lists. Inventory needs. I can. Talk to people and -- update." He doesn't say that Taylor made the lists, kept assiduous track of Community Needs, but then, the older Morlocks know it and the new ones don't need to, right now. With one hard swallow he's vanished again, just a faint rocky blur scuttling rapidly off to the storeroom caves. Lumin watches Nessie, eyes darting around her face, to her hands, to anything that might indicate that she's lying. They grit their teeth, hard, "...I just spoke with Taylor recently. How is that...How is that even..." They bring a hand up, as if to run it through their hair to let out stress, but abort that action and bring their fist to rest against their forehead, crushing their eyes shut. Miniscule hairline fractures crackle through their hand, down their forearm and across their forehead like lightning. A stray glass bottle rattles nearby. The cracks stop all at once, and they stay silent for a long time. Eventually Lumin finally looks up robotically. They watch Anole skitter away and instinctively reach out towards him, opening their mouth to say something, but pull back when he disappears. They take a beat, and turn to Nessie and Nick, "You two should sit down." They grab some water bottles, and push it towards Nick and Nessie to drink. "I can bring the people you just brought in some of the food and whatever they need. Frankly, you both seem like you're about to fall over, and I don't trust my catching abilities." They wet a cloth, and hold that out for Nick to take as well to wipe the blood with. Nessie takes the water bottle kind of on autopilot, uncapping it reflexively. But, by the time she's lifting it to take a long gulp there's more expression returning to her expression, the walleyed blankness crackling away until all her many eyes are looking at Lumin with a quiet kind of appreciation. "It would be super helpful if you could check in with the new people about, like. Most urgent needs." She's not quite up to smiling, but there's a small twitch of a near attempt as she lowers the water bottle. "He said he brought a real cool new person home. He had good instincts about people." And then she, too, is doing a small scuttle Away, although in her case, admittedly, only to a corner where she can collapse against the wall and steadfastly Not Cry. "Thanks," Nick rumbles low as he accepts the water bottle and the cloth. It take hims a bit of fiddling to uncap the bottle, but then he just tips his head back, opens his toothy maw wide, and pours the water directly in. Most of it, anyway. He soaks the rag more thoroughly with the rest, little though it's likely to improve his chances of successfully towel-bathing his shaggy self. "I'm not real great at words at the best of times. Taylor died so we could bring these people home safe." He tips his muzzle toward the huddled newcomers. "You helping to make it a home for them, that means more than I can say. I'm gonna go try to wash up a little, but I'll come back and..." He yawns. "We'll. Figure something out." Lumin meets Nessie’s eyes, hands hovering in a forgotten motion at the mention of Taylor. They nod to Nessie silently as she scuttles away, and look towards Nick. “Just returning the favor, I suppose. It’s…The least I can do, really.” They begin to gather some more water bottles and food to bring over to the group, and stop, “You’re right though. We will figure it out. So please, take as much time as you need.” They nod one last time, and make their way over to the group where Elizabeth is. They begin distributing what they brought over. “Ah…alright.” They clear their throat, which is completely unneeded since they don’t really have vocal cords anyways, “Welcome to the freakshow! Down here you can just be who you gotta be—just don’t go wandering off on your own. Happy to have you all here.” They look around, a little overwhelmed by the group and who to start with, and start with the people covered in the most blood and work back from there. Eventually, they get to Elizabeth, “Ah, hello! Let’s get you all figured out and a damp mattress to sleep on, shall we?” They stick out a hand. A damp mattress sounded awful, personally. But, if it was that or sleep in sewage, she supposed she'd take the thing that somewhat resembled a bed. She's momentarily captivated by Lumin's appearance, obviously trying not to stare at the glass Mutant, but failing miserably. They're absolutely enchanting, and Elizabeth finds it hard to remember social standards. Eventually, she pulls her eyes down toward Lumin's hand, and grabs it ever so gently, afraid to shatter the Mutant, even if Lumin was incredibly tough. She didn't know that, so caution was probably best. "I would prefer anything but a damp mattress, but if damp is the best you've got, I'd consider it a five star hotel." The winged mutant speaks, letting go once she pulls herself to her feet, her eyes glowing much like Lumin's stained glass self. "I love the different colors, by the way." To be fair, Lumin is unapologetically staring as well as they help pull her up, “Heh-Thank you. Your wings are nice as well.” They say with a polite smile. “As for the mattresses, they’re varying degrees of damp I’ve been told—but so is everything down here it seems. But it’s softer than the concrete.” They still for a moment, as if something has just occurred to them. They smile, “Everyone takes care of each other down here so don’t be afraid to let us know if you might need anything. If we don’t have it, we’ll figure out a way.” They jerk their head for Elizabeth, “Cmon, I think I saw some mattresses on the ‘less damp’ scale that we can snag.” | |
