kore_logs | you trance yourself back from the city, blood not moving to your feet

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you trance yourself back from the city, blood not moving to your feet

Who: Laura Hawley; Ned and Private Miles Ryan (NPC). Also, any witnesses that want to wander along by (provided they play along with the conditions)
What: To cut a long story short, Laura gets shot and Ned revives her. Yay?
When: forward dated to day 56; mid-afternoon?
Where: Town square, around where a lovely fountain used to be!
Warnings: Character death. I'm going to go ahead and repeat that again to be sure: character death (I don't know how to make that red but if I could I would PAY ATTENTION PLEASE). Laura and the NPC are dying in this log. Also guns/violence/maybe bloody stuff/probably language lets be honest. Just generally tread with caution in this one I guess?

Notes: So here it is guys, forward-dated a little to give everyone plenty of time to get in. A few notes! Don't forget, your character can/is encouraged to be around close enough to witness:

a) Laura getting shot and dying
b) Ned touching her and there being some glowy glowy business, and (arguably most important)
c) Private Cray Cray ~~oh my god I will use his name I swear~~ dropping dead 60 seconds later.

The rules are simple! Don't interfere with said deaths - remember, we are not interested in saving Private Ryan this time and he has a big angry gun. React to your hearts content (in the appropriate thread).

If everyone in these could keep both eyes as often as they could spare them on the main thread so that they at least know where it's going, and if one or two people want to be in charge of moving it along in a timely fashion (ie mentioning something that Private Crazypants does or shrieking loudly about Laura's blood being everywhurrr in their tag) this should work marvelously. Let's go!

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Ned; Laura; NPC

It seemed like a simple enough task. She just wants to check out the store again after all, and Ned kind of seemed like he could use a little more socialising. It's like a fun new project - her and Ned, taking on new friends one thinly veiled mission at a time. Thus, the invite had been extended, and that is what puts Laura in town at all today. She just wants to check out the store, and maybe poke some random people into making Ned a little less nervous. That's all, totally innocent.

She hovers idly near the door as she waits, dropping back against the wall and propping a foot up on the wall. She's not wearing a watch but she still looks at her wrist anyway, then just starts idly looking at the scenery around her. The church gets avoided completely - not exactly all that pleasant to think about the last time she had been there - but eyeing up the rest of the town is fun. It might be awful, being stuck here, but at least it's pretty, right?

And finally she catches sight of one Ned, delivered (pretty much) right on time. "Oh, thank God dude! I thought you were standing me up. Come on. Let's see what's left in this joint, huh?"

~~I'll get to this once the main thread is done but here's a place holder for now~~

Ned left the house with plenty of time to spare, but had an attack of cold feet and stayed out of sight for a little while, wondering whether or not he should just get back home. He wants to help Laura with her farming project, of course, but it's not that simple. He is starting to learn that venturing outside, in this town, more often than not leads to surprises. Ned hates surprises.

Still, what could go so wrong with making a simple inventory?

Eventually this pragmatism wins out over his hesitation, and he approaches Laura where he sees her waiting. He waves hello, slouching his way over with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry I'm late."

Edited 2013-03-24 18:32 (UTC)

Laura has come prepared.

When Ned waves, she flashes him the brightest grin known to man and bends over to scoop up her supplies. There's two bundles of scrap paper fashioned into the most...let's say rustic notebook she's seen in a while, pretty much just paper and twine, but she's also scrounged a couple of pencils from around the house too. No clipboard, but this whole thing had kind of been spur of the moment, and she's hardly wonder woman now, is she.

"I guess I can forgive you this time," she heaves a sigh as she says it, rolling her eyes before quickly walking over to cross the gap between them. It's obvious that she's pretty pleased with herself when she presents the paper and pencil, and she flashes another, more subdued smile as she gestures to the store. "Here look, I brought things. List making things! Sounds like a super fun afternoon activity, right? Must be a Sunday, I can feel it. Don't you think? Sunday activity for sure."

And after that ramble she takes a deep breath, laughs lightly and nods her head in the right direction. "Come on, we've got to make up for so much lost time here dude."

So much. Like, five whole minutes.

"Must be," Ned agrees, more than willing to be swept along on the current of her enthusiastic good mood. It takes something special, to be resolutely cheerful despite the circumstances. He isn't capable of conjuring it up in himself, but he is grateful to see it in others. When she indicates the direction and begins to walk in it he follows after her, thinking that today might actually be enjoyable. He'd always volunteered to help with the inventory and stocking of supplies when he'd been at pastry school, and this can't be so different, can it? Just replace fruit and food processors and whisks with seeds and spades and watering cans.

"Thank you for getting all this started," he says, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. One of the benefits of owning his own shop was that he didn't need to work with other people. He'd never really been one for leadership. He was perfectly capable of maintaining discipline over himself, but delegating? Not really his strong suit. "I can do more than just make lists, too. When it's time to start planting I can dig and... water and whatever else needs done." Ned might have been weak and scrawny as a child, but he's filled out well enough, and knows he's capable of manual labor. He's carried plenty of apple crates in his day.

"I know what you're trying to do." Miles' voice is low and guarded. "Don't think I don't see what you're doing here, girl."

He slips out of the shadows between the Town Hall and the Church. His arms are at his side, but the sunlight reflects off of the handgun that's held loosely in his hand. "The rest of them don't see it, but I know. I've seen your kind before."

"Woah, warn someone will you?"

Paying attention in general isn't Laura's biggest skill, so when he essentially appears out of nowhere it gets a small jump of surprise from her. Pressing a hand to her chest quickly, she shakes her head and laughs a little. Must be a new person or something, she's never seen him before after all.

She sees the gun moments later though, and the awkward laugh drops immediately into a frown. She glances around quickly, but no one ever said Laura was all that good with decision making. She takes a careful step forward, hands slightly raised as she looks from Ned to the man.

"My kind? What am I doing here?"

Ned, too, had been oblivious to the man's presence. Like Laura, he jumps, wheeling around to see who has addressed them. Is that - yes, that is definitely a gun. That is definitely a strange, intense-looking man, walking towards the two of them and holding a gun in his hand. Not just like he's carrying it somewhere, but like he's intending to use it.

For a second, Ned doesn't understand. They are in public, he thinks, in broad daylight. There are people everywhere. If this man has some kind of grudge against Laura, he can't be considering going after her here? Everyone would see, and know he'd been the one to do it.

Then he remembers where they are. There are no police here, no law courts, no justice system. In a cage like this, Ned suspects that might equals right.

He stays where he is, widening his eyes at Laura as she actually goes nearer to the weird guy with the gun. What is she thinking?!

"Controlling the food source. You want to take the control from old what's-his-face." He raises the gun and points it at her. "I'll be damned if that's happening."

His arm shakes as he pulls the trigger.

The gun thing is enough for her to panic, so she shoots Ned a quick glance over her shoulder. Stay there she's got this, that's what that look is supposed to say, and she even throws in a casual grin for good measure. It's a little more tense than usual, but she can hardly be blamed.

"Woah, no one's taking anything. Chill dude, we're just taking in-"

When the gun goes off, it actually takes her a moment to realise what has happened. Honestly, Laura would have thought that getting shot would hurt more. Another split second passes where it's fine, it just feels like a particularly good punch to the chest really. She glances downwards, the blood already leaving a dark red stain on the front of her chest, and that's when the pain starts to really set in.

She starts to look around quickly, evidently panicked, and she can see that the sound of the gun has drawn some attention but she can't focus properly. She just raises a hand to touch the spreading patch of blood, coughs up some blood and drops to the floor. There's not even enough time for last words, and the last thing she sees is the door of that stupid grocery store before it all goes black.

It all happens so fast that Ned barely has time to be frightened. The man with the gun says something about Laura taking the food, and she hasn't even had a chance to clear up the error before he raises the gun and shoots.

The sound of the gunshot going off from so close shocks Ned. It is loud: so much louder than he would have expected. How had he never understood before this moment that gunshots are actual, tiny explosions? That when something like that happens a few feet away from your body, the sound it makes is physically painful? For a second he thinks he is the one who has been hit. He looks down and sees blood on his shirt, but it is just a fine spray. Laura is the one who falls. She doesn't tumble gracefully downward in slow motion, the way people always seem to in films. She falls quickly, bonelessly, messily. Nothing but a sick splat, and a few seconds later she drops to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Ned doesn't scream. He hears a tiny, breathless gasp of shock, realized belatedly that he was the one who made that sound. Should he run over, try to stop the bleeding, try to help? But it seems that the madman's aim was good. Laura has already stopped breathing, stopped moving, her eyes fixed and still. Ned knows a corpse when he sees one. She is beyond resuscitation; well, beyond normal means of resuscitation, at any rate.

When he tears his eyes away from Laura he sees that the gun is now pointed right at his head.

"OhGodpleasedon'tshootme," he pleads in a rush, wincing in anticipation of his imminent bloody demise. Dignity be damned.

Ned is distantly aware, on the periphery of his senses, that the people around him have seen what is going on, are drawn towards the standoff. He wills them not to come any closer, not to menace and aggravate the nut with the gun lest he get jumpy. Well, jumpier than he clearly already is. Why hasn't he shot him, already, Ned wonders? Is he keeping him hostage?

Miles points the gun at Ned. "Pick her up." He gestures wildly at her with his gun. Agitation clear in his voice. "Come on! Pick her up!"

His breath is loud and harsh and he's visibly shaken.

Ned doesn't mean for it to happen.

When the madman tells him to pick up Laura's body, he isn't exactly going to say no. Saying no is a luxury for moments when there isn't a gun pointed at his face. His ears are still ringing and he can smell the powder in the air. Ned knows that this man will have no reservations about shooting him, too, if he doesn't do what he's told.

So he draws nearer to Laura's body, trying not to look at the wound. Ned has seen more than a few corpses before, but there was never this much blood. He kneels down, next to her, his mind is a haze of fear and horror. He had barely met her, but he'd already started to learn how she was as a person; now all of that has been extinguished in a matter of seconds, senselessly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

If it were just him, Laura, and Private Ryan present, Ned thinks, he would revive Laura in an instant. That way, he would know with some amount of certainty that Ryan would die in exchange, rather than someone else. It would also mean no other witnesses; no one but whomever was behind the cameras. None of the other prisoners in this place would have to know about him except Laura, and hopefully she would be grateful enough not to mention anything.

But with so many watchful eyes fixed on the unfolding events, so many other potential victims in proximity, Ned doesn't dare to do it. Thus, he is very careful with where he places his hands, so that he doesn't touch Laura's her bare skin. He picks her up delicately - he thinks of the phrase dead weight and feels sick - and gets to his feet with infinite caution. If only he were wearing gloves, he thinks...

Except that he is not moving quickly enough for Private Ryan's liking, apparently. Out of the corner of his eye, Ned sees him gesture again, harshly, with the gun. Ned starts violently in fear, flinching from the sound and impact of a bullet that never comes. It is enough. He nearly drops Laura's corpse, has to adjust his hold very quickly to catch her, and ends up grabbing her bared forearm with his naked hand. The effect is instantaneous and clearly observable; with the usual muted sound - like a soft static zap - and faint golden glow, Laura is jolted violently back to life.

In all fairness, it's not like anyone has ever really taught her the right way to process being resurrection, because that's what just happened, right? There's a jolt and suddenly she's staring at the sky, staring rather blankly at the space above her for maybe a few seconds maximum.

Then, she screams.

It'snot long or sustained, but it's loud and harsh because she is definitely panicking. She doesn't even move for a moment beyond looking down at the blood still on her chest, and more distressed, panicked noises start to escape. Her hand trembles, and by the time she moves it from her side to gingerly touch the still damp patch on the front of her shirt it's shaking violently.

"What's- what's going on? What's going on?! Ned? What just happened?" She babbles out the words quickly, head jerking just slightly to look at the man still standing there with a gun. The man who just shot her. "Did I just- how?!"

Dean's really doing a piss-poor job of "hiding from Crowley," like marking all his network things as private is going to do that much good when he's out walking around like, every day. He can't stay cooped up in the house though or he gets antsy, especially when he feels like he should be doing something. If he can't bust them out of here, then at least he can help fix the place up, can help supply the food. He's been out scrounging up some building materials, gathering up tools so he can set up a sort of go-to area for supplies for the rest of the team.

He's not very close to Ned and Laura; in fact, he's headed away from the town square, but at the sound of the gunshots, he whirls around and locates the trouble area, but he takes long enough that Laura's already on the ground. He puts down the toolbox he's carrying so he can pull his gun out, holding it up as he jogs forward, and he tries to decide if he should yell at the guy, or if being spooked would make him shoot the hostage.

Before he has time to decide, and once he's closer to the three of them, Laura's already up and talking again, and Dean lowers the gun, his eyes wide as he finishes watching the scene play out, paying close attention to the three of them. Laura seems like a ditz, the guy with the gun seems completely unhinged but in the normal human way if he's using a gun. And in the end, it's pretty obvious he's 100% mortal. So it's Ned who has Dean's attention at the end of the day, not the psycho wielding a gun.

He's still holding his gun as he approaches him, and he rubs the back of his hand over his mouth before he meets Ned's eye.

"So what's with the magic finger? Huh? What was that?"

Edited 2013-03-25 22:53 (UTC)

Freaking out doesn't begin to cover what Laura is feeling right now. She's trying so hard to stay calm, but no matter what she does her hands just won't stop shaking. Her eyes dart towards Ned - she should say something, thank you, or maybe 'what the fuck', but certainly something at least. She can't quite manage it though, and she just stands there in silence with a bloody shirt and shaking hands until she sees Jet.

She doesn't do anything for a moment or two, just watches him quietly, then starts to walk over. About halfway through crossing the distance between them she bites down hard on her lower lip, and it's clear her restrain is slipping. She just about has enough time to get to him and throw her arms around his waist before a muffled sob escapes. She can't say anything, not yet, so she just presses her face into his chest and breathes heavily, trying to get herself under control. Shoulders shaking, she sniffs and holds him tighter. By now she's shaking all over, and at this point it would take some serious muscle to prise her away from him.

Oh, good. Another gruff, intense-looking man with a gun. Because that's bound to help Ned calm down.

He expected this, of course. Dean's suspicious questions aren't a surprise, because Ned has played out variations upon this scenario a million times in his head. Still, that doesn't mean he knows what to say. How can he even begin to articulate an answer? He's spent his entire life constantly aware of his power but never, ever speaking about it. How is he supposed to just explain something so fundamental to his life, to a complete stranger, at the drop of a hat?

A complete stranger with a gun, no less.

Thinking that he'd really rather not have this man, too, start waving a gun in his face, Ned manages to choke out: "It was an accident." It's not the explanation that Dean so obviously wants, but it's the best he can do at first. He isn't looking so hot: pale-faced and shaking, with Laura's blood still on his shirt and one hand pressed to his chest.

It's alright. Jet's not exactly all there himself. It isn't as if he's never seen people die - he has, in much gorier and gruesome detail, but maybe it's the simplicity that throws him so badly. There's more to it, but he doesn't let himself think much about it. He doesn't have time to. Because she's up, walking to him, and he doesn't really understand how she's doing it, when she was shot, right there.

Jet doesn't have to think twice, though, because she's there and she's holding on, she's shaking so hard she feels like she's going to come apart if he doesn't stop it. Jet has no intention of letting anybody pry her away from him. He immediately wraps his arms around her, covers her and keeps her safe, rests his hand on the back of her head and murmurs to her. "Shh, shh. It's okay, mija, you're okay. Shhh..."

Dean's not putting his gun away until he knows what he's dealing with. And okay, granted, if Ned's all that special, his gun probably won't help him any, but he's not going to pull out his demon knife either until he knows what's up. Ned's "oh my" act isn't swaying Dean's opinion any yet. He needs to see more to be sure if he's faking it or not, and he needs to figure out what manner of beast he's working with here before he can pull out any sympathy cards.

He keeps his gun at his side, though, pointed at the ground and held seemingly loosely, even though he can have it up and firing in a few seconds.

"Oh, I'm sure it was. You want to explain how that accident even came to happen accidentally in the first place?"

"Did- Jet...I just died. Oh y god, I just died. He shot me and I died and now I'm back and I don't know how-"

It all kind of comes out in one big rush, one minute she's silent and the next she's babbling, just repeating 'I just died' as though saying it more than once is going to help her process it better somehow. Weird things happen in this town, she knows that, but nothing could have prepared her adequately for that. She knows she didn't just pass out, knows that the blood on her chest isn't a serious injury - it's a fatal wound. She'd died, and now she's back and that thought is absolutely terrifying.

Laura pulls away, just a fraction. Enough to tip her head back and look at him, and it's clear how much she's struggling with this. There's blood on Jet's shirt now to match hers, and even as she struggles with holding back another sob she touches the patch lightly, frowning and letting out a shaky breath.

"I- there's, I'm sorry. I got-" My blood is a little too hard to get out right now, so she just swallows. "I'm sorry."

"It always happens."

Ned drops his gaze to the ground between their feet. He can't look at Dean, can't stand to confront the disgust that he knows will be in Dean's eyes when he hears the truth. Ned already knows he's a freak of nature, has always known it. But he doesn't think he can bear to see it confirmed on someone else's face.

Dean isn't the only one; Ned can feel the other bystanders watching him, listening to his every pained breath, waiting for his tell-all confession. They aren't going to stop asking, aren't going to swallow some half-baked lie, even if he could come up with one. He doesn't have a choice but to confess, just like he didn't have a choice but to pick Laura up when it was demanded of him. There is no way out to get out of this one intact.

He crosses his arms tightly over his chest, bracing himself for the fallout. Swallowing back a rush of self-loathing and fear, he blurts:

"When I touch dead things they come back to life. I don't know why or how and I can't control it. I tried not to t-touch her, but I couldn't help it, and..." Now he's come to the sticking point. The turn of the screw, the drawback of his power, the complication that will make them fear him, hate him. Attack him? It seems only too likely. Time for the torches and pitchforks, he thinks. There's no way all of these folks are going to take it in stride, the way River did. She is the exception to the rule. Most people don't like what they don't understand and can't control.

"...and that's why he died. A life for a life."

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you trance yourself back from the city, blood not moving to your feet

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POST RESURRECTION

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