the only living boy in new york (open)

[cordillageddon]

Adam is finally out of his room. Not because he really wants to be social or anything, more just because he'd been starting to feel claustrophobic.

He's shivering in his thin nylon jacket, as he hasn't been able to loot find anything warmer, sitting on a bench and trying in vain to connect to the internet

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[apocryphal_mind]

And here's Walter Mark in his large black coat, ready to be helpful. "I don't think you're going to have any luck with that."

He's got his hands in his pockets and he looks remarkably cheerful, considering the entire situation. His tone softens as he asks curiously, "Have you been able to connect at all since the superflu hit? I just know I haven't been able to reach anything on my cell for the past few days..."

[cordillageddon]

Adam looks up, ready to argue. "I was able to access a little bit early on. I still have ways of getting a signal."

Although he has to admit that none of them are at all likely to work now.

"But...not for the past couple of days, no." Sigh. Damn Walter for making him be practical.

[apocryphal_mind]

"How were you getting on, before? Satellite link or something? Or maybe you were just in a better area." He sighs, just a little overdramatically. "This really is the middle of nowhere. Feels more isolated than it should, I think. Wish I'd stayed in New York."

He seems to remember something, and offers a hand for shaking. "Terribly sorry. I'm Mark Barish, good to meet you. If you've got any advice for connecting to things, I'd sure appreciate hearing it. I'd like to think there's something left to connect to..."

[cordillageddon]

"Yeah, this place sucks," Adam mutters distractedly, quitting out of his attempts to connect. "But New York's gone completely to shit, from what I've heard."

He warily shakes 'Mark's' hand, unused to people being so friendly. But hey, it's the apocalypse. Things like the vast majority of the world's population getting killed off are supposed to bring people together, right?

"Adam Kaufman. I'll, um, let you know if I figure anything out, but it's probably going to take a lot of messing around with the wiring around here. By the time I can get anything running, it might not even be worth it."

For shame, Adam. The internet is ALWAYS worth it.

[chovihanni]

Wanda's been out and about, exploring the limits of the town. The government-enforced limits, she's noted. That's a little frightening, but probably, she realizes, necessary. She spots Adam in her wandering and stops near him, folding her arms around her middle. It's getting warmer out, but evenings in late March are still chilly.

"Adam Kaufman?" Again with the full-name thing.

[cordillageddon]

"Hmm?" He shuts his computer and looks up.

"Wanda. Hey." The fact that he isn't glaring means that he's happy to see her, but you probably have to know Adam for a while to pick up on that.

"That, uh, that meeting last night was pretty crazy, huh?"

[chovihanni]

She sits next to him, folding her hands in her lap, flexing her fingers. At some point soon, even this late in the season, she'll have to steal gloves.

"Very much so," she agrees. Then: "Did you recognize her?"

[cordillageddon]

"No." The question takes him by surprise. "Should I have?"

He tries to think where he might have seen her before, but she hadn't seemed familiar at all, and all he can remember about what she looked like is 'drenched in blood.'

"I wasn't really looking at her closely," he admits, after a moment.

[tendencytostart]

When Adam comes back to the Inn, odds are he'll be greeted by probably the last person he wants to see: St. John hunkered down on one of the deck chairs out in the front of the building. But in a strange, miraculous occurrence, he seems oddly subdued, smoking not sullenly, just pre-occupied, absently flicking his lighter with his free hand. Maybe he'll even let Adam pass unmolested!

Look, he's had a weird couple days.

[cordillageddon]

Adam doesn't expect to be unmolested, though, which is why he eyes St. John with extreme wariness as he passes by.

[tendencytostart]

St. John smirks for just a second, since that's his visceral reaction to Adam, but gives a little nod. He's a damn good grudge holder, that boy, but he's not mad at Adam, because he doesn't...really care about him. He hadn't been lying before, he'd only given the guy a hard time because he was there and it was easy. There's no real malice involved. Everything he said was malicious, sure, but he wasn't trying to hurt Adam for any reason than to see if he could. To see where the balance was.

Either way, he's a little more sober tonight.

[cordillageddon]

Adam, unfortunately, is mad at him. Why wouldn't he be? True, St. John's taunting hadn't had any lasting effects...except to make him think of things from a perspective he didn't really want to...

...perhaps the effects were a little more lasting than he'd thought.

"Laryngitis?"

It seems the most reasonable explanation for why St. John isn't talking.