open—

[itio]

Who: James T. Kirk & anyone!
What: A few open prompts, feat. the fog, Kirk's journal, his growing beard, etc.
When: Month of April
Where: Milton, mostly outside and the Community Hall

Content Warnings: None for the moment, but will edit if need be.

— the fog
— downtime at the community hall

Comments

— the fog

[itio]

[ Jim is never going to complain about the cold again. No matter how rough it was when he first got here, whatever's happening right now is so much worse.

It's bad enough that the temperatures drop; but to add to that, there's a dark, thick fog that barely lets him see a thing when he looks out the window. It would be great if he could just hole himself up near a fire, but as it is, he can't do that. First of all, they do kind of need wood to keep a fire going and he needs to get that from somewhere— and secondly, food is also a basic necessity. That and, well, the fact that there could be people in actual need of help and he's of absolutely no use locked up inside the house.

So, whenever it looks like the weather's easing up on them, Jim will take that opportunity to venture outside. His destination will more often than not be the Community Hall, but he may be headed elsewhere in search of supplies. He's not going far either way, but whatever reprieve he thought he'd get from the fog and the blizzards is short-lived, as about halfway to his destination he starts to feel it.

Shortness of breath, dizziness. Each inhale becomes more and more labored, and as his clothes get damp from the fog, it feels as though it actually hurts. It's not long before he's trudging instead of walking, his pace slowed down considerably, and his destination seems farther and farther away, no matter how hard he tries to move forward.

A hand would be great right about now. He'd love not to die out here. ]

[salamanca]

[ Then a hand he'll get! The hand that grips him around the waist warm, and steady, but a little too strong and firm, like the person it belongs to is used to grabbing people and holding them steady, but not so much supporting them in a gentle way. A body slides up underneath him, propping Jim's arm up over its shoulders to give him more support.

Lalo hates, hates, hates the chilliness of the fog. He's grateful everyday for the fire that lives inside him now. It helps keep him warm. He doesn't know what he'd do without it. With every loud crunch of his boots falling into the icy snow, Lalo is reminded that this isn't his home, or even like it, and he's left once again mentally cursing the Canadian landscape.

Who invented Canada, anyway?

The thick fog making it hard to see makes it even worse. Lalo feels the sting of ice crystals on his skin, sees the gray haze right in front of him making it hard to see more than few steps in front of his face.

Despite this, he's jovial when he speaks up. ]

Hey there! You look lost. Where were you headed? The Community Hall? Me too! Let's go.

[ Well, if Jim wasn't going to the Community Hall, he is now! It seems like the safest place for him, and besides, it's where Lalo was going, so it's where they're both going now! ]

[itio]

[ Strong works. Strong is great right now, because Jim's pretty sure he couldn't stand on his own right now. What strength he has left, though, he uses to cling to the man's shoulders, doing his best to put one foot in front of the other so he's just not a useless weight for the other guy to carry on his own.

And yes, he's absolutely fine with going to the Community Hall, regardless of where his original destination was. Anywhere that he isn't breathless and nearly passing out will work out great for him.

So, he nods and lets the man lead the way, keeping up next to him to the best of his ability. He might just stumble here or there, the snow slowing him down more than he'd like and the fog making it hard for him to see much of anything in his path, but at least he doesn't fall flat on his face or bring the guy down with him.

He does all but collapse against the door to the Community Hall as soon as they get there, gasping for breath at this point. As soon as Lalo gets that door open, Jim is going to fall on his ass. ]

[salamanca]

[ Lalo stops to fan himself with a hand the second they make their way into the Community Hall, only to immediately laugh out loud when he sees Jim fall flat on his ass.

He does appreciate, at least, that Jim tried to carry his own weight as much as he could. It's respectable. The kind of thing that makes a good first impression, at least on Lalo.

But the sight in front of him is still hilarious. ]

Easy, now. [ Lalo is still laughing, despite the gasping for breath. He takes off his coat and his scarf while he watches Jim on the floor, amusedly, but he does drop down and kneel next to Jim, watching him to see if the gasping improves. ]

You gonna be okay, man? I can help lift to a couch if you want! [ He does, of course, wait to see if the gasping improves before expecting an answer. ]

[itio]

[ He's struggling a little once they're inside, but for the most part, he feels relief. He can draw a breath without feeling it like he's been shot in the chest (he would know), he just needs a moment to recover from the effort he's had to make out there to get here.

Lalo's laughter draws his attention, though, and it ends up getting a chuckle from him, even though it dissolves into a bit of coughing. And yes, he's still with his back to the floor through all that. ]

I think I can manage that.

[ His voice is a little rough and he's still coughing occasionally, but at least he's not struggling for air anymore. He sits up, a bit more of a struggle to get to his feet, but he manages that too, leaning against the nearest wall for support. ]

Well. Let's never do that again.

sorry for the delay!! and sorry for no html, on phone...

[salamanca]

[ Lalo feels a level of relief he wasn't expecting when Kirk seems to be able to get his bearings. Truthfully, Lalo's impressed by how well he's able to handle himself after almost dying like that. His kind of guy, in Lalo's estimation. Lalo loves people with no sense of self-preservation who push themselves past their limits.

He laughs out loud at Kirk's joke. ]

Too bad. I was going to pencil us in for Tuesday.

[ Wink!!! ;)

Lalo reaches out to guide Kirk away from the wall, gently escorting him to one of the couches. ]

I'll get you something to drink. Here. Sit. My name is Lalo, by the way. It's my pleasure to meet you.

[solitarysoul]

[Levi is also on his to the hall when he runs into Jim. He, too, assumed it would be safe to be outside for a bit. The scarf wound over his mouth and nose's effect is negligible, but faring a bit better due to his Free Runner feat, though. He doesn't notice Jim until he's practically on top of the man.]

Oh! Uh...

[He offers a hand to the other man.]

I can help, if you want. Where are you going?

[itio]

[ Feels like nowhere outside is safe, right now. Plus, Jim has absolutely no extraordinary abilities to help with the conditions. Still, he couldn't just be stuck in the house and wait until this passed, so here he is. Doing something (probably) stupid. ]

Hall, [ He utters, the word hard to get out when each breath is a struggle. He winces, feeling the pain down to his core, immediately reaching for the offered hand in relief. ]

[solitarysoul]

I can get us to there.

[He helps Jim up, then unwinds his scarf and offers it.]

This doesn't do much, but it might help a bit.

[itio]

[ He hesitates to accept, mostly because if he's wearing it, then what about Levi? But he's struggling too much to do anything but take it, wrapping it over his own mouth. It does help a little.

He'll try not to lean too heavily on Levi during the trek back to the Community Hall. The fog's thick enough that he can't really see where they're going, so he'll trust Levi in leading the way, mostly focused on putting one foot in front of the other, and trying to limit how much air he breathes in. ]

[solitarysoul]

[Levi would have insisted if Jim resisted too much, so its best he took it. He puts an arm around Jim's waist and leads him towards the Hall. Slower than he'd like, but he doesn't think Jim can go very fast and he certainly can't carry the man there.]

— the fog 2.0

[chuju]

[ If the current pattern holds, there will be more people arriving soon. How many or exactly when is a mystery, but since the first recorded group, there have been newcomers every two months, and it's something she fully expects will continue until they figure out how to stop whatever is bringing them here and preventing them from leaving.

Which means they need to be prepared. Others seem to have long since gathered up clothing from the abandoned houses, but the houses themselves are what interest Daisy most. She doesn't have the skills necessary to make most of the small repairs needed for the buildings in the best condition, but she's doing what she can to catalog the state of the buildings and what might be salvageable from the houses that are too far gone to be lived in.

So that's her current mission, horrible fog be damned. The problem comes when she turns down a street she hasn't fully mapped yet, her feet struggling to find the sidewalk as the cold dampness thickens around her. Pulling a grey scarf out from inside her coat and wrapping it over her mouth and nose, it does little to help as she stumbles down the street. She needs to get inside for a while and catch her breath, but without her powers, she's as blind as everyone else out here. ]

Shit.

[itio]

[ A hand comes literally out of nowhere, wrapping around her elbow and giving it a tug. It's not hard, just enough to draw her attention, and once she turns around, Jim will be close enough to her that she should be able to recognize him, even with his winter coat zipped up to his face, hoodie over his head, scarf wrapped tight around his mouth. ]

What are you doing out here? Are you crazy?!

[ Pot, kettle, et cetera. They can bicker later. For now he nudges for her to follow, while he motions down the street. ]

Indoors. Let's go!

[chuju]

[ He's lucky he didn't grab her harder or he would have gotten a fist to the face when her fight-or-flight reflexes kicked in. As it is, she turns and recognizes him instantly, those eyes and that voice helping to calm her racing heart a little. Only a little though, because her wheezing struggle to breathe is trying to keep her pulse ratcheted way up from where it's supposed to be. ]

I'm crazy? [ Her words are thin and strained, but she follows in the direction he indicates, trusting him more than just about anyone else here to help get them both somewhere safe. ] What about you?

[ Yes, the bulk of the bickering can happen once they're securely indoors, but she just has to get her two cents in now. It's simply the way she is. ]

[itio]

[ To be fair, at least part of him was ready for her to react poorly to the approach. A punch to the face wouldn't have been a complete surprise. Still, it's good that it doesn't go that far. ]

We need food, don't we? [ He's not just carrying an empty backpack, okay. Shut up Daisy, he's totally in the right here.

He's just going to go ahead and lead them down the street, through the haze of the fog that's sticking to their clothes and headed to the nearest empty building. It's not their place, but at least it should offer some shelter while they can wait for the weather to let up just a little. ]

[chuju]

[ Okay, so needing food isn't something she can argue with. They can try to try to keep a few days' worth of supplies in the house, but with everything so limited in the town, it's better to keep things centralized for better management. No hoarding food, only taking what you really need... But while she can't argue, she can still complain! ]

God, I miss Postmates.

[ But that's all she can manage before a cough settles in, the damn fog feeling as if it is literally pulling the air from her lungs. That's probably an overly dramatic representation of the sensation, but she's allowed to be a little dramatic when fog is trying to kill them. ]

— downtime at the community hall

[itio]

[ Whether he got his ass saved or he somehow managed to claw his way out of the aching cold through sheer force of will, Jim does somehow make it to the Community Hall at least a couple of times. Supplies are scarce and all the more difficult to transport when the weather's this bad, so he does spend a few days here, taking up a small corner with a few blankets and a pillow he's turned into a makeshift cot, trying to take up as little space as possible.

He'll be largely quiet, but he's eager to help regardless. If he sees anyone cooking, he'll offer to help; if anyone's tending to injuries, he'll let them know he knows first aid and his bedside manner is pretty great. Struggling with the cold? He'll gladly give up one of his blankets.

Otherwise, feel free to interrupt him as he sits just near enough to the fire to feel its warmth and get some of the light coming from it. He'll have an old journal he managed to find in Lakeside, using a couple pencils to jot down notes, or make a few sketches. There's one or two of their current location, things he remembers from the trip to the Lakeside, as well as a number of more elaborate sketches of some kind of wood-based water heating system for a rudimentary shower, but more importantly, a basic greenhouse. Distant dream when the weather's currently like this.

Or, you know, if you feel like teasing his poor beard trimming skills, his face is currently looking like a haphazard mess. He doesn't know what the hell razors are and a scissor will only take him so far, okay. ]

[tarakan]

[ Somebody got burned by the fog. Having already run cold water over his hand, Hilbert's now attempting to bandage it—something that he can easily do by himself, if he wasn't bandaging his own hand with his non-dominant hand. He's very visibly struggling.

So when Jim arrives and says he knows first aid, Hilbert will happily take that offer. He's not an idiot. His pride can be pushed aside if it means he recovers faster. ]

Was not quick enough to escape the fog, [ he points out. He's got a very obvious Russian accent (just like Chekov!) but has a voice that permanently lives in the lower, bass register (less like Chekov!). As Hilbert offers Jim his hand, he grumbles, ]

Bandaging one's own wounds can be...aggravating.

[itio]

[ Jim steps closer, taking a seat next to the man as he looks over the injury. Looks bad, but it's not life-threatening. Well, not unless it gets infected. But it's clean enough, so hopefully it'd heal fine with time. ]

I've got something that might help.

[ He's been carring a small bag with him, and he digs out a small tube with some kind of ointment. The label's practically worn off, but it definitely looks like something medical. ]

Might be past its expiration date, but at least it'll stop the bandage from sticking to your injury.

[ He starts by dabbing a little onto the wound while he talks, using a piece of gauze to make sure he covers the whole area. It might sting a little, but he's a grown man. Suck it up. ]

You're lucky enough you walked away with only this to tell the tale.

[tarakan]

Thank you, [ he says, with a little nod. Hilbert's looking at the tube with a clinical eye, the sort of eye a doctor would have when examining the other's work. He absolutely does not recognize the tube. Which, okay, that's kind of expected, he's still getting used to this world's technology and brand names. But he's still being quite nosy about it all as he asks, ]

What is that? Some sort of hydrating or burn creme, I assume?

[ No small talk about how lucky he is, it's time to focus on science! ]

[itio]

[ Jim wouldn't call it nosy. He is, after all, putting that on his wound, it seems perfectly reasonable to want to know what it is. ]

Burn cream, if the smell is anything to go by. [ He hands him the tube, so he can take a look himself. ] It's not ideal, but given the limited resources, I didn't want to let it go to waste.

[ He gets another clean square of gauze, making sure to cover as much of the injury as possible. Then, slowly, he starts wrapping the bandage around his hand. ]

The fog's corrosive, you think?

[sputnik]

[ The fog is a huge danger — a lesson that Konstantin's learned a couple of times by now. Whether it's bravery or stubbornness or desperation (probably a mix of all three), the cosmonaut has found himself in a bad spot more than once. At least by now he knows better than to think he can overcome it; with his condition perpetually worse here, he has to take it easy. Careful. Things that are not particularly easy for him to do.

It means that the little walks and jogs through town he still insists on doing are often cut short as of late, and he does end up spending a good deal of his time in the Community Hall here and there. It gives him something to do — he needs to keep busy, can't let himself fall into the worse states of mind that threaten to slip in too deep if he lets them — he helps out where he can and he's also a sociable man by nature, enjoying conversation with others.

Which is why, when he spots someone he hasn't met before, Konstantin is going out of his way to approach the man sitting near the fire, who seems to be writing or maybe doodling in a notebook. ]

Mind if I join you?

[ His accent a strong Russian, he aims a bright, friendly smile to the other, taking note of his trim job; alternatively, Konstantin is almost... disconcertingly put-together, his own face clean and his hair even neatly styled. Much of his daily routine involves relentlessly grooming himself, maybe in part a desperate attempt to cling onto his identity any way he can — it's fine! He's fine. ]

[itio]

[ To be fair, they can't avoid the fog forever. They don't know how long it'll stick around, and they need to move around in order to find supplies, for any hope of survival here. Jim's just trying not to start worrying too much about it while there's still a chance it'll pass soon enough, but frankly, it's not easy.

He'll take any distraction from the thoughts constantly weighing on his mind. Besides, they're kind of alone out here, so the more people he gets to know, the better chances he has to find allies, people he can rely on.

He looks up at the question, admittedly impressed with how neatly groomed the other man looks. He can't even manage the energy to worry about that. He does need to figure out razors at some point, though. ]

Not at all. [ He shakes his head, smiles and gestures to the seat nearest to him. Once hes's sitting down, Jim offers a hand for a shake. ] Jim Kirk.

[sputnik]

[ Konstantin's smile somehow only brightens at that, moving up to his eyes as he sits down in the designated chair, leaning to extend his own hand — his grasp and the shake it gives is firm, warm, confident. ]

Konstantin Veshnyakov. It's good to meet you.

[ Leaning back into his seat, that confidence only remains; his posture is assured and easy. He very much enjoys socialising, meeting new people. ]

I'm still learning the members of our little community here. Realised I hadn't seen you before, so I thought I would come say hello. [ He gives a laugh, leaning back comfortably in his chair before he lets his eyes drop briefly to the notebook in the other's hands. ]

I'm not interrupting an author at work, am I? Or an artist?

[itio]

[ He seems to be in a good mood. It's almost surprising, in a place like this. Something's always going wrong, and even when it isn't, just being in a survival scenario is enough to weigh on anyone's mind.

It is refreshing, though. Jim's very much the kind to keep a positive attitude himself, but sometimes the worries are too many, they get to him. ]

I'm fairly recent, so that may be why. [ He looks down at the notebook, arching his eyebrows. ] Oh. No, nothing like that. Just a journal where I take notes, do some sketches. It's nothing special.

[ He offers it to Konstantin, so he can leaf through it. He was working on a basic doodle of a greenhouse, but if he looks through previous pages, he'll find other things: observations and information he's gathered, sketches of Lakeside, a basic mapping of Milton, idle, meaningless drawings of items that shouldn't make much sense to most people (an insignia, a starship, a comm device, things like that). He's not an artist by any means, but he's not terrible, at least. ]

It's useful to jot down information, but it also keeps me busy. No one wants me getting bored, believe me.