Post-power knock-out.

[mistermonk]

Who: Adrian Monk, Open
When: Post-blackout
Where: The Stairwell between the first and second floor of the boarding house.

Comments

[thegooddrjones]

Martha didn't mind the dark. She was used to the dark and the feeling of closed-in eyes that came with it, especially when there was odd things around. So she had taken a deep breath and put her hand on the railing, deciding that there needed to be some candles in the kitchen, or if nothing else the sky would be lighter outside. Her steps on the stairs were quick, careful and soft; the last thing she wanted to do was to tumble down them and end up hurt in some manner. It was different now that House was here, of course, but still... it worried her.

The whimper made her pause, as did him calling out. Martha's steps stopped, and one hand extended around her, looking for him with her other senses in order to compensate for her lack of sight, and her voice was soft and full of concern. "Mr. Monk, it's me, Martha." She hadn't liked him, but there was no way that she was going to leave him alone in the dark when who the devil knew what would happen here. "I'm going down to try and find some candles in the kitchen." She extended her hand towards where she thought he was. "Will you come with me?"

[mistermonk]

He didn't bother turning toward the sound of her voice; if he couldn't see in one direction, he certainly couldn't see in any other. As if confirming what he already knew, however, he asked, "Dr. Jones?"

He knew Martha didn't particularly like him. When he'd first arrived, he'd asked to call Natalie, then asked for a private bathroom - both suggestions rejected in what seemed like total exasperation by the good doctor. If she had been frustrated with him, however, he didn't understand why. They seemed like perfectly reasonable requests.

He paused, then added weakly, "It's dark. I think...I think it's a blackout."

[thegooddrjones]

"Martha, please." She smiled at him even though he couldn't see it. The doctor had been frustrated with him, because she had thought that she had tried to explain things clearly, and in the end, she hadn't really, or he hadn't listened... the days and the events that had worn on had taken away why that was. It was hard to be angry at someone when you'd committed an act of murder, even if it hadn't been her who had done it.

"I think you're right. All the streetlights are out as well. I think it may be the town. I'm sure I've seen candles in the kitchen though. Well you come?" Martha's voice was calm, and she reached towards where she thought he was again. "I think we can do it if we stick together." Thirteen more steps to the first level, then probably twenty-five steps to the kitchen cabinets. It was easily doable.

[mistermonk]

There was a very long pause in both Monk's thought process - which was consumed by the idea that it was very, very dark - and his reply to Martha's suggestion. Something the woman did not yet seem to grasp about Adrian Monk was his total inability to function in certain situations, such as power outages or soccer riots.

"I can't see." Obviously.

[thegooddrjones]

"I know. Mr. Monk," she said softly, and then she swallowed before she spoke again. "I'm going to take your hand, alright? I'm going to take your hand and then we're going to walk down the thirteen steps to the first floor, then we're going to walk across the twenty five steps to the kitchen. Will you come with me and help me count?" Her voice was calm as well, and her hand was close to him but not quite touching him. She knew that he had OCD and she knew that she couldn't leave him sitting on the stairs like this; it wasn't fair to him.

[mistermonk]

"Twenty-eight," he replied. "Twenty-eight steps to...to the kitchen from the stairs."

He didn't hold out his hand. Worse than the dark was the idea of being in the dark, being touched, and not having any wipes.

"It's not twenty-five." He paused again, then asked in a slightly panicked tone, "When will it be over?"

[thegooddrjones]

"Alright. Twenty-eight steps then. We'll go down together, yeah? It should be more light on the outside with the natural light than here. But we'll find the candles first. I know there are candles here."

She didn't know when it would be over, but she kept calm, not wanting to increase his panic. She could feel it though, it was palpable in the darkness, little gobs around them and she was worried that if she didn't get him somewhere with light soon, she'd be infected with it as well. Two people panicking was far worse than just one.

"Would you rather have the railing or the wall?"

[mistermonk]

He didn't stand; instead, he stared straight ahead into the darkness and took note of the fact that she seemed to be avoiding answering his question.

It took him a moment to repeat in a choked and hoarse voice, "...When will it be over?"

Feel free to sense or ignore, at will.

[ingenue_bait]

Erik padded silently through the kitchen. This, this darkness, was more like it. He was comfortable in it, could see better than most people could in it, and he had used the opportunity to scavenge more food. Even he realized that he must eat, periodically. And now, with no one else in his room, there was no one to take what food stores he'd managed to secure.

He heard the voices and his thin lips twisted in amusement. If he wished, they'd never know he was here. The man, he knew and disliked--though there was something novel in the way he made no effort to hide his disgust. The woman, however, Erik knew little of, but her voice was smooth and sensible and not like any woman he had known.

[thegooddrjones]

"I don't know, Mr. Monk, but dawn has to come soon. And there will be candles as well. I'm not going to leave you alone in the dark, yeah? I promise." Her voice was soft but certain. "We're going to get through this. I promise, but Adrian, you need to get up."

[mistermonk]

Monk opened his mouth to once again repeat himself, then something - his own gut intuition, perhaps, or that primordial sixth sense all humans seem to possess in the darkness - brought him to a halt. He leaned forward, peering into the darkness toward the kitchen, then toward the parlor.

Unable to articulate the strange someone's-out-there feeling, and certainly unable to make sense of it, he reached out in the darkness toward where he had last heard Martha's voice and touched what seemed to be her hand.

"Hello?" he called out weakly. It seemed silly; after all, he hadn't heard anyone. He certainly couldn't see anyone - and yet it felt like someone else was there. In any other circumstances, he would have chalked it up to his fear of the dark, to his paranoia, but here in Peaksville, there were some very creepy people.

[ingenue_bait]

Damn the man--instincts were better than Erik had thought. Or perhaps it was just paranoia. His own instincts were at war--part of him wanted to disappear as quickly as possible, and another thought playing with them would be fun.

He noted their joined hands. And laughed, a dark chuckle that seemed to circle the room.

"I've interrupted a tryst," he said, his voice rich with amused condescension.

[thegooddrjones]

When Monk cried out hello, Martha quickly turned, her posture almost making her lose her balance on the steps. She gripped the handrail of the stairs quickly, counter balancing herself. Now that Monk had mentioned it, she did feel it... eyes moving over them. That did give Martha a prickle of fear, and her chin jutted outwards; this situation was far too close to ones that had been lived during that year.

She swallowed but didn't call out into the room, she just peered into the dark again. The pair's hands hadn't been touching, but they had been close to it; Martha was never going to touch Monk without permission. When there was the laughter, Martha frowned quickly, but she wasn't going to let herself panic over it. Instead there was a bit of annoyance in it. "I'm afraid you haven't, really. Nice of you to be a git about something like this, though."

[mistermonk]

"Tryst?" Monk repeated. Of all the circumstances of this situation - the power loss, the creepy voice in the darkness - the one thing he focused on was that comment. He stood and released Martha's hand, waving his own dismissively.

"No, no, no," he replied, addressing the darkness. "We're not - not - you know. I'm married. Well, I was married. We're not trysting."

Ever Mr. Sensitivity, he added, "I don't like her."

[ingenue_bait]

Erik chuckled again. "Git" was at the low end of names he'd been called, and the man's reaction was most satisfying.

"Ever the gentleman, I see," he said smoothly. He seemed to materialize before them--as much as they'd be able to perceive him, anyway. "It's too bad, anyway. Someone here ought to be taking advantage of things."

He was, in some ways, surprised the boarding house had not become a den of iniquity.

[thegooddrjones]

When Monk said that he didn't even like her, Martha frowned quickly, and she cast a look in his direction quickly. "We're going down into the kitchen for candles and to ride out the storm. You're welcome to join us."

She blinked quickly when he materialized before them, a darker shape in all of the black around them. Martha's eyes went wide for a moment and she swallowed, but she wasn't frightened of him, that was quite clearly etched over her expression.

"Well, I don't think anyone will be, yeah? I think most of us aren't in the house at the moment. You're Erik, yeah?" Her voice was a little louder, a little more sure. "Will you help me take Mr. Monk into the kitchen and get him some light? Please?"