ʜᴇʟᴇɴᴀ ʀᴏsᴀ ʙᴇʀᴛɪɴᴇʟʟɪ { ℌᴜɴᴛʀᴇss } (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bertinelli) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kore_logs2013-06-14 10:12 pm
bertinelli) wrote in kore_logs2013-06-14 10:12 pm
log: stranger in a strange land
WHO: Helena Bertinelli and Y O U !
WHAT: Arrival, confusion, lurking around town and working the 'confused civilian' angle
WHEN: TODAY! Day 81!
WHERE: House 17/around town.
In her line of work, getting caught off-guard can be fatal, so it's no wonder Helena's on edge from the moment she wakes up somewhere completely unfamiliar, with some kind of strange recorded message welcoming her. She's a little stiff - no surprise, after the ordeal she just went through - but not so much so that she can't push herself out of the bed she's in, check herself, check the conveniently-placed duffel bag at her feet for its contents. Her uniform, her crossbow. All accounted for, not tampered with. Weird.
Taking the bag with her, Helena slips through the quiet house, careful not to make any noise, listening for voices or movement. The last time she'd woken up in an unfamiliar house, her 'captor' had turned out to be a friend, but she's not taking any chances.
Once she's outside, she'll be taking the grand tour around most of the town; getting an idea of her surroundings, wherever the hell this is, sweater sleeves rolled up, hair pulled out of her face, dark purple duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
The lack of road out really is disconcerting.
WHAT: Arrival, confusion, lurking around town and working the 'confused civilian' angle
WHEN: TODAY! Day 81!
WHERE: House 17/around town.
In her line of work, getting caught off-guard can be fatal, so it's no wonder Helena's on edge from the moment she wakes up somewhere completely unfamiliar, with some kind of strange recorded message welcoming her. She's a little stiff - no surprise, after the ordeal she just went through - but not so much so that she can't push herself out of the bed she's in, check herself, check the conveniently-placed duffel bag at her feet for its contents. Her uniform, her crossbow. All accounted for, not tampered with. Weird.
Taking the bag with her, Helena slips through the quiet house, careful not to make any noise, listening for voices or movement. The last time she'd woken up in an unfamiliar house, her 'captor' had turned out to be a friend, but she's not taking any chances.
Once she's outside, she'll be taking the grand tour around most of the town; getting an idea of her surroundings, wherever the hell this is, sweater sleeves rolled up, hair pulled out of her face, dark purple duffel bag slung over her shoulder.
The lack of road out really is disconcerting.