Participants:
Scene Title | Real Weird |
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Synopsis | Following a phone call to Samara, Brian and Koshka begin trying to puzzle over their findings. |
Date | April 9, 2011 |
Eltingville Blocks : Brian's Residence
The phone call had been short, maybe shorter than anyone would like to admit. But Koshka had excused herself to the kitchen for a glass of water and allowing Brian some form of privacy before the call to Samara had ended. And after, minutes passed with no sign of the teenager reemerging, silence filling the living room and the kitchen alike. The girl remained in the kitchen, staring at the cool, clear liquid inside the cup between her hands. Offering, if you will, a moment or two longer when all is quiet again to recollect.
But time stretches out. And just when one might consider calling for her Koshka reappears shuffling from the kitchen. Still with a slight limp, a hitch to one leg in a calf muscle that protests being used and the harsh feel of denim rubbing on nearly cooked flesh. The teenager tries to hide it, telling herself it's nothing and Brian's state is far worse than her own. Reminding herself that if not for her, no one would have been in any danger.
One arm cast across her chest to hold the other, uncertainty shows on Koshka's features. Her eyes move vaguely around the living room before picking out the phone and photograph and finally still on Brian. As always since the return from the house beyond the woods, guilt and fear flood anew, and she looks aside after a moment. "Do… you need anything? Water or… Something?"
Brian remains mostly, completely still. Just staring straight ahead while keeping himself locked into the couch, head tilted back. Winters continues to keep himself plastered to the couch, hands twitching against his knees. He stares blankly at the phone, chin drooping down. "Sam." He murmurs softly, letting out a quiet sigh. His head twitches finally when Koshka starts to speak. He gives her a forced smile.
"Kosh. Don't give me that look. Water would be nice.." Brian says happily. Leaning over to the side of the arm of the couch. He winces and pulls back up. Eyes going to the picture on the table again. "I'm not crazy right. That looks like Lance, am I right?"
"It's Lance," Koshka agrees as she turns back into the kitchen. Water is run and a cup filled. "And Joe and Juniper and Kasha." Even if the names weren't written on the back, she might have been able to recognize the future faces of her peers. Sidling back into the living room, she delivers the water to Brian, fixing her gaze on the picture on the table. "I'm not sure about who those others were though. Or any of that other stuff. And that gravestone rubbing? Just creepy.."
"Here. Could you bring me the box?" He goes to take the cup of water, before looking down to the picture again. "Thanks." Brian mumbles distractedly. Sipping the water. "Juniper and Joe. Juniper seems like.. I don't know. You ever think she would like Joe? That's weird to think about. She's your age. So that would be like. You having a child with Joe." He purses his lips. "You don't have a crush on Joe, do you?"
He laughs a little. Which hurts. A lot. Another sip of water is taken, the cup held by his wrists to avoid his bandages before he carefully goes to set the cup back down on the coffee table.
The "Ew," from Koshka is little more than a mumble as she retrieves the box. She looks up at Brian and shakes her head while making her way back to the table. She's careful in handling the flimsy cardboard, as though dropping it may do more than just spill the contents. She's careful in maneuvering herself to sit again, on the floor this time, both to keep from jostling Brian and herself.
The box is placed on the table, within easy reach but no risk to knocking over the cup of water. She carefully pushes several of the pictures aside before finding that gravestone rubbing. "Beth Ryans. She was only a year old…"
"She hasn't happened yet." Brian murmurs. Glancing over the gravestone rubbing. He gives a shake of his head. "Ryans though. You think that.. No. Ryans Ryans is way too old. He's like ancient. I don't think penises give sperm after that long." He shakes his head. "I don't know, maybe they do." Winters glances down at the pictures. "But if it's not.. That means it could be Delia's kid. In the future. Quick do the math. When would you— Wait no. Delia would have to be the man." He frowns deeply. "Unless the man wasn't in the picture… I suck at math. When would someone have to get pregnant to give birth in April 2012?"
"Look at this. Unlawful pregnancy." Brian mutters, pointing at the magazine clipping. "That's ridiculous. If we don't know what we're fighting for.. That.. Jesus."
"Like… July or something this year," Koshka answers after a quick count back. "Nine months, give or take." She sets the paper down on the table and looks at the clipping. "He's that guy on TV. I stole his wallet and…" She shrugs a little. "Is there a date on that anywhere? Maybe… that could tell us when all that happened." She dips a hand back into the box and pulls out the photo featuring Raith and Ryans. "This one has the castle in it."
"You stole Bradley Russo's wallet?!" Brian accuses with a growl. Eyes going high. "When the hell did you do that? Koshka. This better have been before that teacher guy caught you or I swear to God I will ground you in jail." brian admonishes before looking back down to the table. "I don't see a date. But it looks like there's a boy there. I don't know." He gives a shrug before looking to the picture Koshka has.
"Hmm." He muses quietly, fingers passing along the pictures. He catches sight of the picture with Gillian. "That's my sister." He lets out gently, tilting his head at it.
Eyes widen at the outburst and Koshka looks up at Brian. "It… it was…" she says quietly, her voice bordering on a whisper. "I swear. And I gave it back…" One of the worst feeling moments ever, that morning, and competing with this moment now. She watches Brian, expecting him to lash out at any moment, and only releasing a breath she hadn't known she was holding when he changes the subject. Her eyes flick away to the next picture, showing Gillian and a dark haired boy. "Who's the kid with her?"
He gives her a level look. Nodding slowly. "Alright. Good." Brian seems to calm down rather rapidly. Winters edges forward on the couch. Hands clasping in front of him, elbows placed on his knees. "Sorry. I yelled a little there." He bares his teeth in a sheepish gesture. Leaning back on the couch. "I don't know him." He screws his features some. Pressing his hand to his face. "These are all real weird, Kosh."
"It's okay," Koshka returns, still quietly. "I should've… I deserved it. I guess." She sits back with a sigh, looking over the various pictures still lying out and about. No one she really recognizes, Gillian only vaguely and the castle. But the people are mostly strangers with the exception of the four Lighthouse kids. "I… don't want to run into another of those robots. But… maybe… we should go back to the house? The food was maybe a day old. Maybe… whoever's there would… be friendly?"
"I'm in no shape to risk running into another robot." Brian shakes his head. "Maybe after I recover a little bit. I can't risk crossing the fence like that again. We'll have to wait til I can move right again. That doctor friend of Ernesto's will have to let me how long I have." Brian frowns softly, dipping his head down. "And I don't want you going out there alone Koshka. Or without me." The last is added in, in case she decides to take a loophole in his command.
"Promise me you won't go out there without me."
"I…" Koshka hesitates, shoulders lifting and falling again. "What if Sable went instead," she offers, brows knitting together. She glances toward the door, as though being able to see the woods, the fence, and the strange house beyond. Perhaps even more frighteningly than facing another robot kitty, she wants to go back.
"So she can push another bookshelf on the robot? What is she going to do, Koshka? You have no way of fighting them off. And either does she. She can just run. If my electric hands didn't exist we would all be in a lot of shit right now." Brian explains with an irritated edge to his voice. "I want you to promise me. Koshka."
"I promise," Koshka says after a baited pause. Her eyes lower and slant toward the pictures, brows furrowing into deep creases. "Unless… unless there's something happens or… is found. A really strong something. Life or death or limb. I won't go without you otherwise."
"I'm afraid of your justifications Koshka. Make sure I would think it is just as important." Brian murmurs, glancing over at her.
He glances over to where she had left the gun. "You used all the bullets." He says dully, a light frown pulling down at his lips.
He pushes himself into the couch once again, letting out a low sigh. "I think I'll go take a rest.. We can look at all these later. I guess."
A slow nod follows Brian's words, though Koshka keeps her eyes on the pictures. "Sorry," she mumbles hands lifting to gather the contents of the box into a neater pile. "I…" A heavy exhale follows and her head gives a small shake. The pictures and papers are gathered again and moved back into the box. "I'm… going to find Sable and invite her over. She… might have ideas. Or something."