Had Nadine lived a slightly more normal life, she'd have said that this was impossible. That she'd hit her head in an accident on a mountain road and all of this was some sort of coma-dream. She had been in some sort of accident, apparently. The memories of immediately prior to waking were a bit fuzzy.
A nasty gash on her head and a few badly bruised ribs certainly indicated an accident. She'd been suffering from dehydration, too, apparently.
But she hasn't lived a very normal life, and this seems about as possible as anything else that's happened to her. Sure, she was in some world that routinely pulled people into it via unknown forces. That's believable enough. Unknown forces have been controlling her life for the majority of it. Some stranger has patched her up and given her a twenty year old (by her estimation) station wagon on credit. A little harder to believe, but she doesn't have much choice but to accept it.
It seems to her there are two choices. Panic, focus on what she'd been doing before whatever had happened, what she was missing, how she'd be missed....or save all of that for later and just focus on the immediate while she figures out her situation.
The latter seems far more appealing in the moment. And practical. The practical thing is to focus on now, and getting to the promised city that lay a couple of hours away.
Which she'd be in the middle of doing, except her damn Volvo has blown a tire about forty five minutes into the journey. She's not sure what she ran over, but it had been impossible to see and punctured a neat little hole in the front left tire. She's on the side of the road, crouching by it to inspect it and wondering what the hell she's going to do about it. The few things she'd had with her aren't any help in fixing a tire, and she doesn't think she could change one herself even if the car has a spare.
"Damn it!"
Panorama - Apartment Blackouts
While Nadine is capable of living out of her car, it lacks certain things she considers necessities. Like a bathroom. Or a way to easily heat food. Or an actual bed. So she's shelled out some of her hard earner but meager savings to rent a room for a couple of nights. It's an awful room, like something out of a movie about the slums of New York or something, but it's an actual room. And God knows she's stayed in worse when she had to. And it has a television.
Besides, there's just something about being inside an actual building that gave the impression of better safety. It's likely an illusion, but it's a comforting one.
Or rather, it would be, if not for the sudden plunging into darkness that's just occurred. The hum of electronics that makes a steady background sound dies out, and there's something profoundly sad about the cease of the irritating buzz.
As quiet as it is inside, it doesn't seem to be the case outside. There's a bang against the door that makes her start, and she watches it for a moment before getting up. Before checking, she slips her handgun into the waist of her jeans, just in case. There's no second bang, like a heavy fist slamming against the wood, but she waits a moment longer before opening the door.
Nothing.
Frowning, she steps out, looking both ways for any sign of life.
Wildcard
[OOC: Feel free to throw a scenario at me! Also I will match tag style, brackets a-okay!]
Nadine Cross | The Stand
Had Nadine lived a slightly more normal life, she'd have said that this was impossible. That she'd hit her head in an accident on a mountain road and all of this was some sort of coma-dream. She had been in some sort of accident, apparently. The memories of immediately prior to waking were a bit fuzzy.
A nasty gash on her head and a few badly bruised ribs certainly indicated an accident. She'd been suffering from dehydration, too, apparently.
But she hasn't lived a very normal life, and this seems about as possible as anything else that's happened to her. Sure, she was in some world that routinely pulled people into it via unknown forces. That's believable enough. Unknown forces have been controlling her life for the majority of it. Some stranger has patched her up and given her a twenty year old (by her estimation) station wagon on credit. A little harder to believe, but she doesn't have much choice but to accept it.
It seems to her there are two choices. Panic, focus on what she'd been doing before whatever had happened, what she was missing, how she'd be missed....or save all of that for later and just focus on the immediate while she figures out her situation.
The latter seems far more appealing in the moment. And practical. The practical thing is to focus on now, and getting to the promised city that lay a couple of hours away.
Which she'd be in the middle of doing, except her damn Volvo has blown a tire about forty five minutes into the journey. She's not sure what she ran over, but it had been impossible to see and punctured a neat little hole in the front left tire. She's on the side of the road, crouching by it to inspect it and wondering what the hell she's going to do about it. The few things she'd had with her aren't any help in fixing a tire, and she doesn't think she could change one herself even if the car has a spare.
"Damn it!"
Panorama - Apartment Blackouts
While Nadine is capable of living out of her car, it lacks certain things she considers necessities. Like a bathroom. Or a way to easily heat food. Or an actual bed. So she's shelled out some of her hard earner but meager savings to rent a room for a couple of nights. It's an awful room, like something out of a movie about the slums of New York or something, but it's an actual room. And God knows she's stayed in worse when she had to. And it has a television.
Besides, there's just something about being inside an actual building that gave the impression of better safety. It's likely an illusion, but it's a comforting one.
Or rather, it would be, if not for the sudden plunging into darkness that's just occurred. The hum of electronics that makes a steady background sound dies out, and there's something profoundly sad about the cease of the irritating buzz.
As quiet as it is inside, it doesn't seem to be the case outside. There's a bang against the door that makes her start, and she watches it for a moment before getting up. Before checking, she slips her handgun into the waist of her jeans, just in case. There's no second bang, like a heavy fist slamming against the wood, but she waits a moment longer before opening the door.
Nothing.
Frowning, she steps out, looking both ways for any sign of life.
Wildcard
[OOC: Feel free to throw a scenario at me! Also I will match tag style, brackets a-okay!]