Nicholas D Wolfwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
louboutinjudas) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nomans_land2023-06-08 09:07 am
louboutinjudas) wrote in nomans_land2023-06-08 09:07 am
Somewhere between July and December
1.
[ It wasn't the fastest car he'd ever driven, but it made better time than the old man's shitty station wagon had, and it was definitely faster than walking across the desert. None of the maps he'd found tucked under the seat had Hopeland on them, which was worrisome as all hell, but on one of the maps there was an orphanage marked, just off of a city called December.
The ghost he'd talked to on that mountaintop had told him he'd die in December, but that ghost had also ruined his last cigarette, so fuck that guy. If he died, he died, but first, he was going to make sure Miss Melanie and the kids were okay.
The sedan hums its way across the desert, kicking up a dust cloud that can be seen for miles. ]
2.
[ With a shudder and a hard jolt, the car comes screeching to a halt, the dash going dead as the engine seizes up. Wolfwood swears, punches the dash, then swears again when the solid dash nearly breaks his hand for his trouble. He'd managed to get the car hotwired, but apparently cars in this messed up version of Noman's were more different from the ones he knew than he'd realized. Is it out of oil? Out of charge? Not like he can do anything about it, whatever the problem.
Please ignore the man in black, standing next to a very dead car in the middle of absolute nowhere and screaming at the sky. It's therapeutic profanity, and it really is helping. ]
3.
[ Sunburned and exhausted, Wolfwood crests the hill and finally, there before him, sees the building that his map identifies as the December Orphanage. Even from a distance it's clear that the chaos that's affected the rest of the planet hit here, too -- there's clear bullet holes in at least one side of the building, walls that have collapsed, and the whole place seems as deserted as everywhere else he's been.
But he's here now, so he might as well have a look around.
He really wishes he still had his Punisher, though. ]
[ It wasn't the fastest car he'd ever driven, but it made better time than the old man's shitty station wagon had, and it was definitely faster than walking across the desert. None of the maps he'd found tucked under the seat had Hopeland on them, which was worrisome as all hell, but on one of the maps there was an orphanage marked, just off of a city called December.
The ghost he'd talked to on that mountaintop had told him he'd die in December, but that ghost had also ruined his last cigarette, so fuck that guy. If he died, he died, but first, he was going to make sure Miss Melanie and the kids were okay.
The sedan hums its way across the desert, kicking up a dust cloud that can be seen for miles. ]
2.
[ With a shudder and a hard jolt, the car comes screeching to a halt, the dash going dead as the engine seizes up. Wolfwood swears, punches the dash, then swears again when the solid dash nearly breaks his hand for his trouble. He'd managed to get the car hotwired, but apparently cars in this messed up version of Noman's were more different from the ones he knew than he'd realized. Is it out of oil? Out of charge? Not like he can do anything about it, whatever the problem.
Please ignore the man in black, standing next to a very dead car in the middle of absolute nowhere and screaming at the sky. It's therapeutic profanity, and it really is helping. ]
3.
[ Sunburned and exhausted, Wolfwood crests the hill and finally, there before him, sees the building that his map identifies as the December Orphanage. Even from a distance it's clear that the chaos that's affected the rest of the planet hit here, too -- there's clear bullet holes in at least one side of the building, walls that have collapsed, and the whole place seems as deserted as everywhere else he's been.
But he's here now, so he might as well have a look around.
He really wishes he still had his Punisher, though. ]
no subject
Worth taking a look, right?
[ Let's find the stairs! ]
no subject
[this is getting predictable-- and now empty, empty, silent]
no subject
Sounds like you're offering to sing, buddy!
[ Although... if the radio's on the roof, and it's supposed to be secret, would the stairwell be obvious? If he's got to start checking every wall for a hidden door he's gonna go mad! ]
That's real generous of you!
no subject
[are they that smart to make hidden doors....?]
no subject
Or maybe, some of those creaks and groans coming from deep beneath them aren't just the ventilation. Who can say? ]
Don't go back on your word! I heard you wantin' music, and I think it's a great idea!
[ If nothing else, there's got to be a maintenance hatch for getting onto the roof to clear away sand drifts, surely! ]
Anythin' but a hymn, though. I've heard enough hymns for three lifetimes.
no subject
start poking around with vigor, at random points, at all of them, all walls, grabbing all books he can off any bookshelves]
I can't carry a tune worth shit anyway.
no subject
What, you're gonna let a little thing like that stop you?
[ All the moons are up now, sending thin silver light through the windows at the end of the hallway and in the various rooms. In contrast, the little red light blinking on the bookshelf behind a thick volume that Livio just threw on the floor is vibrant and bright. The second Wolfwood spots it, he reaches out and grabs Livio's arm -- blinking red lights are never a good sign.
Somewhere deep beneath their feet, some weighty piece of machinery rumbles to life, like a distant engine powering up. Wolfwood's not laughing anymore. ]
Down, we gotta get downstairs, not up, there's something down there!
no subject
but when they don't go BOOM, and Wolfwood's even more insistent, and maybe anxious, he sobers instantly]
Okay, okay let's go up.