Polyphemus

Blind Hand - Chapter 1 : Pathways

Orange had never been his color.

It was a stupid thing to be worrying about right now, he knew. The possibility- no, the certainty- of imprisonment and medical experimentation was in his mind, of course. But he was a long way from Alabama, and the shock and horror had worn off in the long hours since his capture. He had had more than a full day to think, the drugs they had pumped him with keeping him in a state of constant drowsiness, but not quite sleep.

And Keith Booker hated the way he looked in this orange prison jumpsuit.

To his half-asleep mind, it was just adding insult to injury, one more indignity to whatever lay ahead, the fear having worn itself to a dull edge.

Then the world lurched around him.

Follow the tracks. It just made sense.

Keith had been rabbit hunting with his dad a few times before the elder man had realized how little his son enjoyed the sport. Despite his distaste for the outdoors, that one piece of wisdom stuck in Keith's mind as he stared down at the boot tracks in the soft mud. He still felt the heat of the wreck at his back, only a hundred yards or so behind him. He had gotten lucky finding these tracks leading away from the scene. As he looked around in bewilderment at the forest and mountains, it seemed logical to find someone else- strength in numbers. Maybe he'd get real lucky and find that real cute boy that had been sat down a few seats behind him, but first things first.

His mind seemed to be working again. The excitement of the plane crashing must have cut through the sedatives they had given him, pure adrenaline whittling his drowsiness away to nothing. Good. Keith knew he needed to stay sharp in this situation, otherwise it would likely end badly. Being stuck out in the middle of the wilderness seemed only marginally preferable to being stuck in some hellhole facility. With that in mind, he set out after the tracks, hoping it would lead him to other escapees and not straight to his persecutors.

If he had been fully awake, he wouldn't have dared to try it. Not with an armed guard standing right there. He'd have been filled with buckshot the millisecond he became solid again, that or passed out and suffocated. If he didn't just fall through the fuselage.

As it was, though, the guard next to him seemed too occupied with the plane plummeting in altitude to notice Keith abruptly stand up in his seat, the leg irons and restraints clattering on the floor. Keith was solid again, grabbing a seat back for support.

Someone screamed.

A blue lake appeared before him, a view like a postcard. Out of the trees, Keith looked around, hoping to spy whoever it was he had been tracking all this time. There, on the shoreline, a small cluster of people, all of them in that godawful orange jumpsuit. "Hey!" he yelled to them, breaking into a run. He didn't care how much noise he made, he was happy just to have found someone, anyone else. This wasn't something he had any desire to face alone. "Hold up, folks, I'm coming to you!"

Liar, Liar (Murder/Mystery)

Just so we're all clear, Cooper isn't going to shoot him right off the bat, he's more just showing Reed that he has a pistol to try and prevent a fight.

Liar, Liar (Murder/Mystery)

There. Went upstairs with Reed.

The Poisonville Auditions

You guys just haven't had it cooked the right way.

Liar, Liar (Murder/Mystery)

Cooper held the philosophy that you can always tell the quality of a party by the quality of the booze available. Anyone can dump a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon into a cooler, but your better parties will also have a table of the hard stuff along with some mixers. The very best parties actually included a bartender, of course, but in this crazy mixed-up world of ours you've got to take what you can get. At any rate, this one fell somewhere in the middle. A table with booze and mixers. The alcohol was good, too, not quite top shelf but definitely not bulk rate swill. And someone had put pour spouts on them! Did he own pour spouts? He couldn't remember. Probably not. At any rate, he felt rattled enough by what he had seen at the church that he felt he had earned a drink. Granted, he usually felt he had earned a drink by waking up in the morning

Coops was busy mixing himself a rum and coke in a red Solo cup, which he planned to lift up before he proceeded to party. However, he felt someone bump heavily and totally not accidentally into him. Cursing as his drink splashed onto his polo, he turned around to see some lady telling himself to watch where he was going. despite the fact that he was completely stationary and she was clearly drunk as a lord. Drunk as a lady? Not specific enough. Drunk as a countess? Are countesses known for getting drunk? Come to think of it, are lords? "I think maybe you've had enough, princess," he said mechanically, even as his brow creased looking at her. She looked familiar. He had seen her somewhere before. Maybe several different somewheres.

He looked past her, trying to figure out where Lillith had gotten off to, saw her only a few feet away. Some dork had grabbed her shoulder and was whispering something in her ear. Cooper found his free hand slowly reaching for the AMT Backup stashed at the small of his back. Nobody picked on Lillith. Not while he was around.

The man stormed off towards the stairs, weaving his way through the gyrating crowd of partiers, as Lillith shouted to Cooper over the pounding music. "Care to back me up, this kid may have more info," she said to Cooper with a thumb jerked towards the stairs. Cooper nodded, gently pushed aside the annoying lady, and followed Lillith up the stairs.

It was quieter up here, though the floor literally shook beneath them from the sound of the music. Cooper saw the man waiting, arms folded, in the darkened hallway. "Hey, pal," he said to the man. "I understand you were wanting to talk about Maria. Let's do that. First things first, though, you were uncivil to my friend here," he said with a gesture to Lillith behind him. "So let's put that behind us. My little buddy here is going to be referee, just in case you get any stupid ideas." The pistol slid out of his belt and into his hand. While he didn't point it directly at the lanky nerd, Cooper didn't not point it at him either. With a smirk, Cooper took a sip of his rum and coke. "Let's talk, pal."

Blind Hand - Chapter 1 : Pathways

I'll try to have one up soon, but I'll make no guarantees- it's a busy time. If it becomes necessary to move the plot forwards without me, do so- I don't want to hold anyone up.

Liar, Liar (Murder/Mystery)

Silent Observer said
Force posting??

Sounds pretty kinky.

Liar, Liar (Murder/Mystery)

Guys, if I know anything from all the crime shows I've watched, the first guy arrested is never the guilty party.

The Poisonville Auditions

It's all good, pal. Real life always comes first.

The League - First Blood (Persistent World Superhero Sci Fi and Fantasy, Always Open)

I'd like to chime in that MrD is really good about collaboration- he and I have hashed out one of the upcoming plot arcs, and he's very gracious about accepting details and ideas.