Second Life -- Welcome to Fairplay [Stage 1]

[cityship]

It had been the usual mission briefing, not that any of them remembered it. The crew knew they were gone and had no idea when they'd be back, and likely wouldn't attempt rescue for quite some time, especially with Stacy considering the mission "ongoing."

They had no idea when they'd be back, either, namely because they never remembered being on the ship in the first place.

It was home. It had always been home.

Welcome to Fairplay, Iowa, folks, happiest little town in the Midwest.

[ooc: Read this before tagging.]

Comments

Location: Somewhere in the town

[behaemmert.livejournal.com]

Vita blinked into the light of the sun, momentarily dazed.

What a strange dream, she thought, but as she thought so, the details already faded. Spaceships, really. How weird.

Groaning, the little delinquent stretched herself, then jumped off the small wall she had been napping on. Sheesh, this day sure was going to be as boring as the last few ones had been...

For a moment, she wondered where the others were. That stupid Nantoka, or whatever her name was. Hayate... How dare Nantoka get along better with Hayate than Vita did!

Growling, Vita shook her head. She was already getting annoyed. She'd just...

What had she been doing? It had been something important. Riiight. Important. Like skipping classes. Sure was important. The delinquent ignored the nagging feeling that there was something else that had been important.

After all, she was just another resident of Fairplay, Iowa, and had never been anything else than a normal person on a normal world.

Location: Takamachi Family Bakery / Main Street

[starlightace]

Nanoha never stayed around after school, and today was no exception - the girl quickly ducked into one of the school restrooms to change into her uniform (really, just a pink shirt and an apron) and quickly headed downtown to her family's bakery. She warmly greeted her mother and father as she situated herself behind the cash register, relieving her dad of the duty.

It was her part-time job, and it was an important one. But she'd had some very strange dreams last night, hadn't she?

[boundlesslight.livejournal.com]

If there's one thing self-respecting cheerleaders aren't supposed to do, it's eat baked goods. They have figures to watch, and if they were seen 'pigging out', the teammates who were supposed to catch them would definitely complain.

Still, it was a cold night after practice, and that building looked so warm and inviting...

Checking that no one she knew was watching, Corinne quietly ducked into the shop. It wouldn't hurt to give a classmate's business a small boost, right?

"Good evening," she greeted quietly, then started thinking about what to order. Except...how did you know what to order when you hadn't eaten any of these things (except bread, of course) before?

"I'm not sure what to order, so do you have any recommendations?"

[bonnypiperlad]

Jamie had had to close the music store for a few minutes just so he could get away, but it was worth it to come here for the cookies alone. Being around a friendly face was just a bonus.

As he crossed the street to get to the bakery, he glanced over at a nearby clock to double check the time, and stopped to stare. Why, the second hand of the clock was moving backwards, wasn't it?

An angry honk startled him and Jamie hurriedly finished crossing the street. When he looked back, the hand was moving normally. He pulled open the door to the bakery, shaking his head as he headed inside. Odd, whatever that was. Spotting Nanoha, he made his way over to the counter, giving her a small, tired-looking smile.

"Hello, lass. Would ye happen to have those chocolate chip cookies with the wee walnuts in them today?"

Location: Somewhere in the residential area

[thunder-ace.livejournal.com]

Fate was having one of those dreams where you just didn't want to wake up.

She was flying, as free as a bird, through a clear blue sky. The city was far below her, and even the skyscrapers looked no bigger than anthills. She had never felt so free... and she hadn't felt this happy since the time before her beloved sister died.

She wasn't alone, either. Not too far off to her right was a streak of pink, but when she tried to move close to see who the person was, a loud buzzing sound interrupted her.

... And she woke up.

With a sigh, she rolled out of bed, grabbed a set of fresh clothes, and went about her daily morning rituals, with one addition; taking care to cover up the dark bruise blooming just under her left eye. No need to draw attention to herself and get asked unwanted questions, right?

After freshening up and eating, Fate grabbed her schoolbag and her house keys, locked the front door behind her, and began making her way to school.

[starlightace]

There was a figure standing on a corner not too far from Fate's house - one who she might recognize. They'd always used to walk to school together, hadn't they? ...but even if Fate had seemed more and more reluctant to spend time with her, that didn't mean that she couldn't show up in their usual spot, right?

Still, her back was facing Fate's route, so she might not have noticed her coming yet.

[behaemmert.livejournal.com]

Vita was, of course, also on the way to the school. Her mood was...somewhat sour, somewhat okay. On the one hand, school. Somehow, she just didn't seem to fit in perfectly.
On the other hand, Hayate was there, which cheered her up. Hayate was one of the few people she got along with. Well, to be fair, she did not have much contact with her but...it counted, right?

If only there wasn't that unpleasant Nantoka-girl. For some reason, the redhead kept getting on her nerves, and what made it worse was that she didn't even know why. It was unfuriating.

So lost in thought, she bumped into someone.

"Oi, can't you look where you're going?" She said with an annoyed tone in her voice, disregarding that it was her fault.

Oh...the other girl she had often seen around. Something was off about her, but Vita couldn't really tell what it was. She didn't really cause her trouble, though, so she wasn't a particular target of her annoyance, she just...was.

Location: Lunch Room / Fairplay High School

[icanhashat.livejournal.com]

The white noise of the students was like a heavy robe clinging to Jayne as he shuffled around the large open area with a broom that was just a little too short for the broad shouldered janitor. Like most of his tools they were imperfect and in this sense he hand to stoop a little to use it with the dustpan to catch stray peas, french fries, scraps of paper and whatever else the ungrateful and dismissive student body would drop.

The Teachers were just as bad. It seemed that everyone had long since decided that as the Janitor was paid to clean up after them, they would make him earn every cent of his paycheck.

Like so many days in the past and likely thousands more in the future Jayne's mind was not on his work, but unlike most days he was focused on something else instead of shuffling through his day to day like a zombie.

It had been a dream, that's all it had been and even now the details were fading from memory. All he remembered clearly was waking up with a surge of heat in his limbs and strong urge to break something.

But that's all it was. A dream nothing more. So long as he kept his head down and did his job he would live on to have many more dreams in his alcohol infused slumbers.

Re: Location: Lunch Room / Fairplay High School

[neverwastenaya.livejournal.com]

Tenaya carefully made her way through the cafeteria, being sure to stay toward the sides of the room. Her lunch tray was in one arm, held close, while she used her other hand to maneuver her cane. Though she'd had strange dreams the night before, she couldn't afford to think about them right now. She had to find an empty table.

Though it was weird, to be honest. She'd had dreams before about still having her sight, but they mostly involved doing things she'd done before the fire--playing basketball, going to the movies, hanging out with friends. Why she dreamed now that she was some kind of martial artist or something was beyond her.

It hadn't bothered Dylan when she mentioned it at breakfast; "Tennie, it's probably normal. You had dreams like that before the fire, so you're probably just adjusting back to normal. Now I've got to get to work, so get your backpack and let's go."

"...Damn," she muttered when she realized she'd reached the last row of tables. None of the corner seats were empty--or kids were purposely moving into them just to mess with her. Searching down the middle seats would be harder--she couldn't just tap at the edges to feel for anyone's feet; she was still too new to everything to have figured out a system. The only other option would be to ask for help.

Home - At each character's home

[i-saw-myself.livejournal.com]

He'd dreamed of flying, of the wind sweeping through his hair, and the sky spread out before him, orange and cotton-candy pink, spread wide open like a new book with an ending he hadn't read yet.

The part he liked most was that he was never alone in these dreams. Someone was with him, a friend, flying with him, but he never saw them. He just knew they had to be there for him to be flying at all. Other times, there was a third person, sitting behind him, their strong, slender arms wrapped around his chest. It never mattered where he was going, it never mattered where he'd been, all that mattered was he was up in the sky and he was free, and at the same time, never alone, and somehow he knew there was someplace to go back to when he was done, someplace that felt like home.

It was a nice dream, but the problem with dreams was that he always had to wake up, and that's what he did, started awake in his bed. What had woken him up was the loud pounding on his bedroom door.

"Harold! Wake up." His father's curt voice was on the other side. "Harold! Only lazy asses sleep like this in the middle of the day! Wake up!"

"I'm awake! I'm awake," Hiccup--no, Harold Stenson muttered, pushing himself up in his bed, and kicking the blanket off with his foot. Reaching down, his hand scrambled around on the floor for one of his stump socks, until he found one.

The pounding continued. "Harold!"

"I said I'm up, dad." He didn't raise his voice. It was never a good idea to raise his voice at his father. "Don't have my leg on. You know it takes a minute."

That got him a reprieve, at least.

"Well, hurry it up and come downstairs. We're going to the Barber. You need to cut your damn hair--it's gotten too long."

He heard his father leave, and put his hand up to his hair, which was slightly mussy, and not really that long. It was at that perfect length where it was long, but didn't look like an emo haircut or anything.



It didn't matter, though. It never mattered what he liked or what he wanted.

Sighing quietly, Hiccup strapped his prosthetic on.

Re: Home - At each character's home

[birthmural]

Damon Halestrom awoke at 4:38 in the morning. He was covered in sweat and his blankets had been tossed aside onto the floor. His pillow was straight across the room. His chest burned.

Damon pushed himself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. Leaning onto the sink, he turned one of the knobs and cupped his hands under the ice cold water. He splashed his face with it until his heavy breathing came under control. But the pain in his chest was still there. He lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror and froze.

On his chest, emblazoned in fire, was an inverted pentacle inside a circle. But no sooner had he seen it than the image disappeared. He trailed his fingers over his chest but the skin was smooth- there wasn’t as much as a scratch on it.

He stood there, completely still, turning over the thoughts in his head. He was desperately trying to remember… something. His dreams, he supposed. Even in his sleep he could not escape his own demons.

“God give me strength.” He mumbled. To make it through another day.

[boundlesslight.livejournal.com]

Corinne awoke, as she always did, precisely at 4:00 AM in preparation for the day. She would get ready, be out the door by 5, and begin her early-morning practice at 5:30. As the cheerleading squad's resident 'flying girl', thrown through the air in almost every stunt, she had to be sure everyone was prepared to catch her.

The odd thing, she thought as she sat on the side of the bed, was that she'd dreamed of flying for real. The surroundings weren't anything like this quiet winter land, not at all. There were vibrant cities, wide open skies, and people around her. They were laughing, and there was an odd rich quality to it that she hadn't heard in a long time. Genuine laughter.

It was just nerves, right? She mustn't allow herself to get distracted by silly games. The true goal was cheering for victory on the field! If she did that, she'd get the glory---and for a moment at least, there'd be smiles on the faces around her.

Time to go. Her family had already left for work, so all that was left was to clean up, warm up, and eat a granola bar on the run.

[heretic-witch.livejournal.com]

Nunnally Prince didn't want to wake up. She never did, but today especially. She'd been having the strangest dream -- piloting a giant robot, a battle raging in the midst of the big city, like something out of a cartoon.

But just as dreams always did, this one faded into darkness and the realization that she was at home, lying in bed, nowhere special, and her alarm was blaring to let her know it was time to get up. She opened her eyes and sighed, reaching over to turn the clock off. Her aunt was probably at work by now, she always was at this time of morning, so Nunnally could get away with rolling over and going back to sleep...

...if she wanted to put up with the lecture she would surely receive for skipping school. Even if she deleted the inevitable message from the answering machine, it would get out somehow. Finally, she managed to sit up and climb out of bed. Today was going to be another wonderful day.

Re: Home - At each character's home

[governorkang]

"Go find Gloth," Kang ordered tersely, pointing ahead into the chaos. "He's in the fight somewhere. Tell him to take First Squadron and retreat with all speed back to Support Squadron. We'll fall back under their covering fire."

The soldier - did he have wings? - nodded and disappeared into the fray. He blinked; who the hell was Gloth, anyways?

He turned to issue more orders, and cursed at a hand on his shoulder -

He shook his head at the memory of the dream as he ate his breakfast. While it was common for him to dream of the war, he'd been having a lot of strange ones lately, involving names he didn't recognize, attached to blurry, non-human faces. Wings tended to show up often, too. Must be because of stress.

It was wearing on him, dealing with the kids at school who were bullied and nothing being done about it, and his parents getting on his case about nearly everything. He and his wife had made yet another visit to the doctor, and still didn't know why they'd so far been unable to have a child; of course, his parents' reaction had been to yet again lay the blame solely on the fact that he hadn't married a nice Korean girl like they'd always told him to.

The clicking of Felicia's heels on the floor brought him out of his thoughts. "I'm off to work. Are you sure you're alright?"

Kang nodded, smiling wanly, "I'm fine. Another dream, is all."

She frowned, but dropped it for the time being and gave him a quick kiss, "I'll see you later." He watched her leave, and got up to finish getting ready for work himself.

[hasnoteefs.livejournal.com]

Toothless rarely dreamed of much he remembered other than fish, Hic-- Harold wearing strange clothes and giving him fish, fish and sometimes that pretty little blonde girl Harold liked so much also giving him fish. ...It was clear the cat had little more than fish on his mind.

But periodically, he'd have strange dreams. Strange dreams that involved being entirely higher in the air than any cat should be without plausible fear that the phrase "cats always land on their feet" might be being sorely tested. Harold was always there-- Toothless was never sure where he was, but the feline always knew when the boy was around, and he was there. Sometimes, that same pretty little blonde girl was there, too. All in all Toothless tended to chalk the dreams up to a bad batch of tuna, ignore them, and go about his day.

One such dream was ended prematurely when the bane of his very existence, Harold's father, began his usual pounding on the door whenever Harold managed to sleep thirty seconds past when he was supposed to be up. With a huff from his curled position near Harold's foot, the cat stretched long and slender, parting his toes lazily before he rolled onto his stomach and got to his feet. While Harold put on his prosthetic limb, the cat saw fit to trill and walk directly into his boy's shoulder, nuzzling him affectionately.

Don't worry, Harold, he likes your hair long, too.

Re: Home - At each character's home

[alterniantaurus.livejournal.com]

Tavros woke early, before his alarm went off. He lay in bed for a moment, trying to piece together the shattered remnants of dreams already being pushed out of his conscious thought in favor of naggy reminders -- get up, get dressed, get moving, if you miss the bus one more time I'll be so disappointed...

He pushed the covers off, then reached down and threw them off his legs as well. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of his hands and frowned a little. He distinctly remembered that part of the dream. At several points he'd seen his own hands, corpse-grey and ending in discolored fingernails. Weird. Eerie. The early morning light made him look maybe a little too pale, but at least he was back to Caucasian.

All right, Martin, no more candy before bed.

He barely even paid attention to the pushy inner monologue. With his dad always out, someone had to be the one to lay down the law around here. Might as well be Rufio.

Too old for imaginary friends? Definitely. He recognized this awhile ago and eventually reached the point where he no longer openly spoke to him. But in his mind, he still pretends the big guy is looking out for him, giving advice, nodding proudly when he does the right thing and forgiving him when he doesn't.

Loneliness will do that to you.

Tavros pulls his wheelchair closer to the bed, thankful it didn't roll back down the... ramp?

Why the hell would he need a ramp to get into bed?

Whatever.

Enough lollygagging, let's get moving!

The rest of his morning follows the usual routine. Clothes on, teeth brushed, face washed, bowl of cereal, bookbag, and go. He hates the school, but he has no choice. He wants to do the right thing, and right now that thing happens to be school.

Re: Home - At each character's home

[drowpaladin.livejournal.com]

"May, you need to get up! They need me early at the library!" Both the yell and the scent of strong coffee cut through the haze of her dreams and had her sitting up in bed, both hands raised to her face.

Why she would have repetitive dreams of armor and a sword...she had no idea. Maybe it was trying to tell her something.

"Stop reading fantasy books before bed?" she quipped to herself as she rose and prepared to start the day. She heard the door slam on her way to the shower. That just meant that she'd need to check the dining room table--her mother tended to leave her notes there to spell out things that May would have to do while Ava was at the library.

Between the shower and breakfast, she just had time to skim over the note before rushing out the door.

Seemed she'd be heading to the library after school today.

Re: Home - At each character's home

[nothawkingbird.livejournal.com]

Kate or Lizzy how she liked to be called, yawned as her radio alarm went off, about . She made sure to set it just enough to get cleaned up, have Esperenza's breakfast, and then head in to school. Her dad was already getting ready to head to work, and barely would say five words to her. Whatever, she'd hear about details in the evening sometime anyway. At least the local paper was still holding, even if readership had been dropping with the current economy. What a yawn that was, not that she cared.

"Miss Bishop, please! Your food will get cold," The maid remarked as she walked in with a robe for her and slippers. "The shower is all ready for you."

She nodded her thanks, and put the robe on so she could walk down the hall to the bathroom to get ready. Trying to put the odd dream out of her head. Her in tight purple? Puh-lease!

Just another day of oh so boring classes. But at least she can find out the latest gossip. The other popular girls were tolerable, but Maggy so had the best stories.

Re: Home - At each character's home

[bonnypiperlad]

Music blared out from the alarm clock next to Jamie's bed, and a hand groped out from under the covers to hit the snooze button before withdrawing and pulling the covers back over his head. Jamie didn't want to get up. It wasn't unusual - he couldn't remember the last time he had actually looked forward to getting out of bed. Today was especially hard, though. He had a dream about traveling in some strange blue box, with a man with dark hair who seemed so familiar, somehow. Someone...important to him. He had felt happy. He couldn't remember the last time he felt that way, either.

It was so tempting to try and slip back into sleep, see if he could go back into the dream, but he could feel it slipping away. He knew even if he tried, it would elude him...and the longer he stayed in bed, the less chance there would be of him getting anything for breakfast other than cold cereal. His father was quite strict about mealtimes. If you weren't there when everyone else ate, you were out of luck.

With a sigh, Jamie pushed the covers off and sat up, running his hand through his hair before leaning over to turn off the alarm clock completely. After a few moments, he reluctantly got out of bed and headed downstairs, resigned to the fact that today was going to be a day like all the others.

Main Street - Dae Soung Shik Dang/local bar

[governorkang]

Gonna be a bit late coming home tonight, 'licia.

Kang sighed and rested the back of his head on the wall behind him, flipping his phone open and shut. His parents had been on his case especially hard that day, going on about how he never had time for them anymore, and had stopped helping them out in the restaurant; he'd stayed after school a little bit later than usual to talk to one of the bullied students. Practically no one else on campus gave a shit about them, and it bothered him.

Parents? How late?

Yeah. Any later than ten, I'll call you.

The next message took a little longer. His wife knew how stressed he'd been lately, and understood that sometimes he needed a bit of time to himself.

Alright. Love you.

You too.

He put his phone away and took a deep breath before reaching for his jacket and telling his parents he was leaving for the night in Korean. Bundled up against the cold, he began the short walk to one of the local bars he was fond of. He used to love winter, but ever since that mortar in Iraq and the surgery, his knee had a tendency to ache in the cold weather. Kang gritted his teeth and pressed on, though, having grown used to the pain.

Re: Main Street - Dae Soung Shik Dang/local bar

[daemonomicon.livejournal.com]

When Kang reached the bar, he'd find an odd if familiar sight.

At the bar was seated the aging Father Carl Thomas. His drink, a scotch on the rocks, with just the smallest splash of water (it helped bring out the flavor, he liked to say). At his feet sat his seeing-eye dog, an old golden Labrador named Sigmund (or, more often, Siggy for short).

Father Thomas turned his head when Kang entered--more to hear than to look--recognizing the sound of his gait. He'd recognize the sound of that limp anywhere.

"Kang," he said, with a somber chuckle, raising his glass to him. "Always a pleasure to see you again, as it were."

Location: Church of St. Michael

[daemonomicon.livejournal.com]

For a moment, Father Carl Thomas' mind drifted a bit. It happened a lot, lately. He was, after all, one of the oldest people in Fairplay.

But a moment passed, and his the sharpness of mind that characterized the aging priest returned to him.

Ah, that was right. He was in the middle of a sermon. Though he couldn't see them--shrapnel from the war so many years ago took his sight from him--he knew his congregation was giving him an odd look for having spaced out in that moment.

Ah well, no matter.

"The holidays are coming up soon," he said as he resumed speaking. "And I hope, as tired a sentiment as it may sound, that you remember the true meaning behind Christ's birth. In this age where the idea of 'self first, others second' reigns highly in people's mind, it's become difficult to see the teachings of our Lord. To love your neighbor, and respect your fellow man. To love the sinner but revile the sin."

"I hate to say it, but you don't see much of any of that these days. No one takes the time to be decent to one another, to provide for those in greater need. Of course, during the Christmas season, we buy each other material goods, and feel a bit better about ourselves."

"But that alone isn't what He would have wanted. Materialism? That isn't His plan. If you want to feel better about yourself, go out and really help someone. Give to the homeless, help someone less fortunate. Just do something to actually make the world a better place. That is what our Lord would want."

After his speech was over, he began to feel weak again. He decided this was as good a place as any to end mass.

"Go in peace to love and serve the Lord," he said, more out of habit now than actual meaning. It wasn't like anyone here would actually listen to what he was saying.

As usual, he stood at the door as his congregation left. As they made their way out, he could hear some of them speaking about him.

"Who does he think he is, talking to us like that?" one whispered. "Old freak," said another.

His heart sank. Even after all of these years, his words couldn't reach these people. They only came because they fear hell more than they believe in God.

Once more, he felt like nothing more than a useless old man.

Re: Location: Church of St. Michael

[birthmural]

Damon Halestrom was beside the priest although he took little notice of what the people were saying. His head was bowed and he was focused on breathing slowly. At least this time he wasn't coated in sweat. And he wasn't curled up in the bathroom having a panic attack.

"You spoke well, Father." So what if that was true only in comparison to Daimon?

[Drraaaags self away from WoW...] School Gym

[short-changed.livejournal.com]

"Pass it, pass it!"

Ed received the basketball as he wheeled circles around his opponents, sweat-matted jocks playing through the lunch break. This was the life, no distractions, no weird dreams, no terrifying pus oozing sin against God: just him and his basketball.

Firing a shot like a cannon, it hit nothing but net. "Whoo!"

"Lightning Elric strikes again," remarked one of his classmates, someone who he couldn't, for the life of him, remember his name right now.

Ed smirked as he shrugged. "I'm just good at what I do." And with that, he rolled to the side and picked up his drink, taking a long sip of it.

Yeah, no weird dreams.

School Gym

[iflingmyhat.livejournal.com]

Lelouch also had some things to chase away. Or, in his case, run from. Issues at school aside, his mind hasn't been right. So he'd changed quickly into his gym clothes, and was pounding it out on the track that went around the gym. He preferred the outdoor track, but beggars can't be choosers. It was too cold and snowy out for that.

So he ran, full tilt, pushing himself as though it were the final leg of an Olympic relay. His mind may as well have been in Athens, because it certainly wasn't in front of him, and able to warn him of Ed's stopoff to get a drink in time. The only warning Ed had was the squeak of sneakers as he tried to slow in time, but he still plowed right into him.

Down the street from the grade school

[rollwthechanges.livejournal.com]

As soon as the school bell rang, he could be seen rushing out of his classroom, pulling a stack of reusable grocery bags out of his backpack, and setting to work cleaning up all the garbage along the street.

He stepped dutifully out of the way of cars trying to park in the gutter, waving hello to the drivers before picking up the crushed beverage cups and crumpled hamburger wrappers from the shadows of the vehicles. He pulled toilet paper out of a tree (with help from a nearby newspaper dispenser) and carefully separated the recyclables into their own separate bags. Two hours later, he'd made it all the way down the street, just in time to watch a garbage truck bouncing through a rain gutter, stray bits of litter tumbling out of the back and all over the street again.

Junior's eyes glazed over as he read the familiar old logo on the side of the truck-- KING WASTE DISPOSAL AND RECYCLING.

"Just you wait, Papa. I'll make you proud someday!"

Then he went back to picking up trash.

Vacant lot by train tracks - late afternoon

[riseupnchargem.livejournal.com]

If he was old enough to be this morbidly depressed, Jamie thought, he ought to be old enough to get drunk in order to forget it.

The law did not share his sentiments, however, so since the option of hard liquor was closed to him, he'd found less orthodox means of self-medication. Such as sitting in an abandoned car after school, letting his mind wander as he breathed in the scents of musty decay and worn vinyl and cigarette smoke.

The latter was entirely his doing; he hadn't been smoking long enough for the odor to permeate his clothes, but he'd lit up in the car enough for there to be a faint but appreciable scent in its decrepit confines. He'd planned on smoking now, in fact, but at present he was simply sitting there with the cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, thumb idly flicking the wheel of the plastic lighter in his hand.

He'd hidden this new habit from his dad, though how long it would remain a secret was anyone's guess. Those things'll give you cancer, he'd say with that sad, tired smile that he'd had as long as Jamie could remember. That's not how you wanna go, is it?

Huh. A creeping black sickness that ate you alive, a little more each day, until you were a shrivelled-up husk waiting for death? Sounded a lot like life in Fairplay, actually. Jamie's hatred for this town had been much more intense, once, a driving force that had propelled him to find some means of escape - college, work, the army - but all these avenues had, one way or another, been closed off to him, leaving him to drown in the apathy that choked the entire town. It would have infuriated him if impotent rage hadn't required more energy than he had to give.

All he could do anymore - aside from drifting through classes that offered no challenge but had frowned so fiercely on his attempts to wrest any sort of satisfaction out of them that he'd finally given up trying - was sit in this car, wondering where it'd come from, who'd left it here, why they'd abandoned it. He felt a connection with the thing that he couldn't explain, as though they were kindred spirits; if the car were alive Jamie was sure it would rather have been racing down the highway, putting as much distance between itself and Fairplay as it possibly could.

He stared dully out the driver's side window at the train tracks a hundred yards away, eyes dulling. And then refocusing, sharply - for a split second he could have sworn his reflection in the foggy glass had been surrounded by panels of multicolored lights, that the sound of his own breathing had been joined by the faint hum of electronics, that the scent of the car had shifted to something new and warm and alive.

He blinked, and it was all gone. There was nothing but a depressed teenager sitting in a rusting blue car in an empty lot overgrown with weeds.

Jamie pinched the bridge of his nose, gave the lighter a more purposeful flick, and lifted the flame to the cigarette clenched in his teeth.

Location: McCrimmon Music Shop

[bonnypiperlad]

McCrimmon Music was a tiny little shop, tucked in so that you would almost miss it if you walked on by. Only the large harp on the sign outside saved it from being swallowed up entirely by the other shops on Main Street.

Inside, it was a fairly cozy little place, with various instruments hung up for display on the walls and a small area for people to sit and try them out. Jamie worked here with his father, Donald. Well...at least he did when Donald actually bothered to show his face in the main part of the store. Most of the time, his father stayed in the back room, letting Jamie deal with the day to day running of the shop.

This, unfortunately, included trying to handle the books and try and juggle things to keep the bills paid. It seemed every day it was getting harder and harder to do that, and Jamie found himself staring down at a stack of paperwork that all seemed to say the same thing. Past due. Remit payment immediately. Final Warning.

Maybe today would be one of the okay days, though. One where he could sell something, and use the money to stretch things out just a little longer. It would all depend on who happened to wander by.

[psi-flames.livejournal.com]

There weren't any students today and nobody had called Jono to sub. Which meant that when he wanted to get out of the house, he went straight to the music shop. He had a few things that he needed that he knew the McCrimmons would have. It was just unfortunate that there wasn't more he needed. He liked Jamie, after all, and he wanted to help.

He pushed the door open, leaning heavier against his cane for the long walk from his home. "Hullo?" he called, moving into the shop enough to let the door shut behind him.