|
Post by thebutlerdidit on Mar 5, 2013 17:54:59 GMT -5
Sophie stared at the tarot cards on the table. Death. The Hanged Man. The Devil. The Fool. The Shadow. She put her hands over her eyes. Why did she cast them? Sophie thought, if she hadn't, the future wouldn't be solidified. She nodded it off and cleaned the cards. She saw in the newspaper that a whole expedition of people are going to The Caverns. She had found her way in, simply replacing a Sarah Sornette for her name. She picked up her bag, her clothes, and her hat. She covered her head with it, and went out the door for the expedition site.
|
|
|
Post by They call me Srah on Mar 7, 2013 17:08:30 GMT -5
What exactly is so bad about being cold?
The question ran from one side of Whitney's mind to the other, only to fade away into the subconscious as fleeting thoughts are prone to do. He pulled his insulated jacket closer to him, trying to keep out the chill. That question had done little to improve his situation, much less distract him from the frostbite that was almost certainly going to start forming on his hands in the hour to come.
Snowflakes drifted down from the skies above; a monotonous gray of clouds, shedding little bits of frozen water onto every possible surface of the planet below. The street corner on which the skinny, malnourished man huddled was no exception.
Why did I come here?
Another fleeting thought. He knew why he was here. He had begged to be here. The real question was why in hell he had wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, Caroth had a great education system, but it was also really cold all the time and filled with things that looked as if someone had crossed a rhino with a polar bear and taught the resulting abomination how to walk on two legs. He didn't belong here. Not on this planet, not in this scrap of a city, and not curled up on a sidewalk because he had no better place to be.
His eyes turned upwards to the ever falling snow. What were the chances of him freezing to death on this God forsaken planet, all because there was no job market for engineers on Caroth?
Whitney let out a sound that could only be described as the lovechild of a sigh, a moan, and a death wail before turning his unshaven face into his hands.
The answer to that question: probably pretty high.
|
|
|
Post by thebutlerdidit on Mar 8, 2013 16:25:01 GMT -5
Sophie walked out the wooden door, locking it behind her. The sky was as it usualy was, grey, grey, and more grey. The clouds were vomiting many white snowflakes. She walked to the curb, seeing the many Carothians walking around the streets. She liked Carothians, they looked close to normal, like they were people, just... different. He saw a blob of grey on the sidewalk, and as she approched, she saw a man in the blob, a man with brown eyes, blond hair, and blue lips from the cold. She thought quickly, running back inside and grabbed the many bottles of hot water she kept on the old radiator. She left again, and brought it over to the man, wedging it in between his neck and his scarf.
"What is your name?" she asked, sitting him upright.
|
|
|
Post by They call me Srah on Mar 8, 2013 17:57:29 GMT -5
Whitney jumped at the sudden warmth that rested on his neck. He felt soft hands touch his neck and face and he smiled. It hadn't taken long for him to die. Maybe he could see his parents again now. Maybe the person touching him now was his mother. His hands moved to his neck to clutch the warmth closely as his head moved up to make eye contact with whoever had come his way. It didn't take long before his mouth was agape. Definitely not his mom.
He was, if nothing else, quick to regain his composure. Morphing the surprise on his face into a the best grin the cold would let him muster, Whitney whispered, "W-w-what w-would you like i-i-it t-to b-be?", teeth chattering all along.
|
|
|
Post by thebutlerdidit on Mar 8, 2013 18:17:10 GMT -5
"Wow, you really are cold," Sophie said softly, feeling his cheeks with the back of her fingers. "Hmm," she said, "You look like a Sean, is that your name?" She smiled, brushing a bit of hair from in front of his face. "No, more of a Gabriel, like the angel," She was an atheist, but she didn't know if he was. He looked like he hadn't a fresh meal in days, "Wait here, don't go anywhere," She hurried back inside her home, cobbling a couple fruits together, buttered a couple bread slices quickly, and ran back outside. She sat down on the cold concrete, and placed the food on a plastic plate in front of the stranger. Her Victorian-era dress had an extra three layers of insulation, so she was warm, but this poor man had many layers on, so why was he still cold? Had he just not been inside for a while, or did he not even have a place to live? He was quite handsome, if it wasn't for his lips being blue, his nose streaming mucus, and he being as pale as a Carothian.
|
|
|
Post by They call me Srah on Mar 9, 2013 9:14:25 GMT -5
Whitney smirked at the angle comment. Uh-huh. He was totally an angel. "Sure. Let's go with that."
Dear god he was lucky. The shivers once again attacked him, and Whitney wondered what he had done to deserve such good fortune. Maybe he had passed a test of some sort. After all, he should have been dead days ago, especially after picking a fight with those polar-rhino-bears. Somehow though, he wasn't dead, and he had a pretty little lady tending to him to top it all off. He watched the woman's eyes - beautiful, tiny green emeralds - as they sparkled with concern. She was fairly pretty, in a sort of natural, played down way. Then, his heart dropped like a stone when she left him.
Well that dream was short lived.
But no sooner than the thought was out, did she come click-clacking back down the frozen street, carrying a platter of food to him. Surprise once again smacked him in the face. Despite this, he was, if nothing else, good at hiding his emotions quickly.
He watched the lady kneel down beside him and offer him the food. God was he hungry. But if she was going to be nice to him, he might as well make the most of her kindness. Weighing his thoughts, he remembered that someone was trying to give him something. Whoops. "That for me?"
|
|
|
Post by thebutlerdidit on Mar 10, 2013 13:55:21 GMT -5
Sophie giggled, the man was obviously trying to cover his emotions. "No, I just wanted a quick snack," she said sarcastically, "But no it's really for you," she said quickly after wards when the man's eyes fell to the concrete.
"The name's Sophie, Sophie Scarlett," She said introducing herself to him. He may be a stranger, but he needed help. "Do you not have a home? You look like a ghost," she pulled out a book from her bag, First Aid for the Common Person. "Hmmm, pale cold skin," she read, "Disoriented," she waved a finger in front of his eyes, which, instead of gliding with her finger, they flickered with it. "Yep, I think you have hypothermia, " Sophie said, grabbing a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee, and held it near "Gabriel's" hands, "You need to warm up slowly," she also placed another hot water bottle in his scarf, replacing the other.
|
|
|
Post by They call me Srah on Mar 10, 2013 16:10:38 GMT -5
Whitney gave a little half smile. "I had a home, but I wasted allmy money and couldn't pay rent. This," He said, motioning around them with stiff arms to the icy street, "This is as close to a home as I have."
He could feel sleep pricking at the back of his eyes and he struggled to remain focused on the little lady in front of him. The heat on his neck only helped to reinforce the apathy he had to being cold, an apathy that had just began to seep in. His half smile perking up a bit in the corners, Whitney closed his eyes.
"That's good to hear. If you don't mind though, could you leave the olive tray and tend to the other guests? I think I'm going to take a nap."
(OOC: should I knock him out or do you want him to go delirious?)
|
|
|
Post by thebutlerdidit on Mar 10, 2013 22:21:43 GMT -5
Sophie laughed. Olive tray? Other guests? She looked at his closed eyes, but he can't sleep on the street. He needs a warm place to rest. She pulled him off the curb, putting him on his feet, and placed the food in his arms. "Here," she said, handing him a small key, "This is a key to get into the foyer of my house," she pointed to her house, "It will not get you past the second door, into the main house, but there is a couch in the foyer that you can sleep on. OK?" Even just after that one batch of food and two hot water bottles, Gabriel had color return to his face and his lips become less blue. Now he looked better and healthier.
"But trust me," she said about three inches from his face, "if you even think about breaking into my house, I will hunt you down, and gut you like a fish," she said pulling a stilletteo knife from her boot and shined it in front of their faces. Sophie turned n her heel, and continued walking her way to the meeting site.
|
|