September 1st

[ink_mc]

*sitting outside on a concrete block--something that maybe used to be a wall?--watching people walk past, trying to spot anything familiar, anything that might tell him where he is. He's still got his jar of apple jam clutched tight in his hands, because if it is the Vurt...* Might be the Vurt. But this Haunting is bad. Worse than ever. *looks down

Comments

[mr_sofakingcool]

*he's walking along the street below, distracted and getting some serious jitters from needing cigarettes and jammers*

[ink_mc]

*inhales sharply and hesitates for a moment, locked in position, then jumps down from the wall* Bee!

[mr_sofakingcool]

*stops in his tracks and turns on a dime* Scribble.

[ink_mc]

... *he's overjoyed, but...*

[mr_sofakingcool]

*walks up to him, acting normal, but there's an undertone of distance- they didn't part on the best of terms, at least in his timeline* How do you like the scenery, Scribb?

[ink_mc]

What're you doing here, Bee? What am I doing here?

[mr_sofakingcool]

Some kind of government fuckery, seems. Best I've been able to work out so far. *he's relaxing into his usual role, not going to question why Scribble isn't mad at him*

[ink_mc]

We're in a program?!

[mr_sofakingcool]

Not for long, if I can help it. *reaches into his pocket, only to remember he has no more cigarettes* No one knows much.

[ink_mc]

Fuck...

[mr_sofakingcool]

Been getting some shit story about this being the last bastion of humanity, that kind of thing. Don't believe a word of it, besides the bit about zombies.

[ink_mc]

Maybe they're doing tests or something. Like we're lab rats.

[mr_sofakingcool]

Already been playing with people's memory. *leans against a nearby wall, trying to control how his hands are shaking*

[ink_mc]

How do you mean...?

[mr_sofakingcool]

Don't rightly know, but...it was a fucked up few days. *straightens, restless* Watch yourself here, Scribb. It's a new game.

[ink_mc]

Few days...