Cleaning crew

[Eden Jones]

Eden grins and nods in response to Sally's jaunty wave.

"A pie making festival?" she says with interest. "Looks like I'm going to have to write to my grandma to get one of her recipes. If we're trying to win over the town, I should break out the big guns. Mind you, I can't promise anything I bake will turn out as well. Grandma is magic in the kitchen." She pauses, looking around the group. "Metaphorically, not literally, I assure you. At least as far as I know."

"As for the other activities, I'm happy to help with planning, but I'll need some help if we want this to actually happen. Dallas, are you interested? I'll bet I could recruit Aurora as well. Maybe a cookout in the warmer weather and a potluck dinner when it gets cooler. What about a dessert contest or something? If we recruited the Sheriff, Dr. Kennigan, and maybe some other prominent folks from town to judge, they might appreciate that. Plus, dessert! Everybody wins, really."

Turning to Alice, she smiles gently. "Reading, huh? I'm with you there. What do you think of a book club? It's a lot easier to talk to people when you have something in common, like a favorite book. Would you be up for that?"

[ronfiction]

Lou liked the shaping idea of a community activity board. He figure it would do the city slickers some good to have a slice of rural American life. The idea of these folks going nuts over a pie baking contest amused him, being from a community where such things were common place. Lou had always been used to the small town life, the good parts and the bad. He smirked to himself at the idea of what reputation he may be building for himself because reputation is something that follows you like a shadow in a small town. Very hard to shrug off. In time, everyone in town would know whether or not you were dependable or not, good with money or even if you drink too much. He knew for sure that people by now though he wasn't very bright and for the most part they were right. Just who rushes outside at night to fight a weird talking serial killer wolf man? But at least no one would call him chicken.

Lou wonders some more about the city folk adjusting to country life and tries to think of more 'rural' activities that may lift their spirits.

"Maybe a county fair is in order."

He suggested with a chuckle.

[kimp]

:: Liberty looks over towards Eden and says ::
Hello, Eden. Would a book club not require us all to have the same book?
:: before turning back to Sally

I wasn’t in quarantine. My car broke down just outside of town around the same time they were letting you out of there. I hear it was unpleasant.

:: Without any segue at all, she says ::
When I saw Battle Royale I thought it was good but I felt as if I was missing a lot of the subtext because I don’t know enough about modern Japanese culture. So, when I saw the Slam Book I picked it up. It isn’t exactly what I expected, but it is interesting. If nothing else it has confirmed my thoughts about the suicides.

I do not see how people say that it is similar to the Hunger Games. In the Hunger Games all the children chose to kill each other or at least fight for survival. But in Battle Royale you had a great deal more cooperation, as well as individuals trying to beat the game and others trying to maintain a ‘normal life’. I found it much more interesting, but also much more complex.

:: She is quiet for a moment. Her eyes track his movements as he cleans. Her hand goes to straighten the board of the table, but otherwise she does not move to help him. This was his task to complete. Instead she elects to stand and bear witness. After a few more moments she adds ::
I have movies on my phone. I wonder if any of the technical sorts can figure a way to rig up a projector. Then we could have a movie night. That would be community-like, right?

:: There is a smile in her eyes as she adds::
I do not have anything with children eating bananas by the side of the road, though.

[Heather N]

Dallas seemed to get really excited when Alice mentioned that the reading. It looked like she might have something in common with her after all.

"Well, I can tell you I myself have spent what little free time I get from my job reading from time to time."

She pointed her thumbs towards the Supergirl symbol on her chest.

"I like to stick with the super hero stuff myself. Keeps me reminding myself that there is always a way to get things done. We should share our favorites sometime."

She turned her eyes to Eden and rubbed her chin some.

"I would love to help out. I bet Eugene would be the best out of the locals to help round them up. I could talk to him. He also delivers the paper so we would all be great to spread the word."

[Sally]

Scrubbing away at the underside of the table, Sally says, "A man can go stir crazy, locked up b'hind walls with nothin' but rollin' hills of snow as far as the eye can see. So, yeah, you missed out on a gay ol' time this winter."

Sally, using both hands to grind out a particularly stubborn blot of himself from the wood, says "But I dun know nothin' bout no hunger games. I'll have to check out tha Proff's library, I guess. But, yeah, Japanese folks love they honor. Whole diff'rent mindset," Sally shakes his head. Honor meant something, he supposed. But, even in the Marines, getting the job done had come first. With JD and the crew, 'honor' had been more of a 'loyalty' thing. There were times when anything that wasn't bolted down might have absconded along with the their caravan of motorcycles, and Mellie's rig....

"Whaddya think, readin' that there book and seein' the lot of us cooped up here with the locals? You drawin' any com-parisons?"

At the mentions of 'children eating bananas by the side of the road,' Sally's face goes an all new shade of green as the memory of a horror much older than Friday night in Penance's Slaughterhouse strikes him.

A drive-in movie theater in Harlan, Kentucky. Beat up old truck, Caprices, and even a tractor or two. A gaggle of Crowe and Crowder kids here, summore Lautners there, and even a Bennet or two in they Daddy's delivery wagon.

A dark haired little boy with a greasy spoonful of homemade banana puddin', a treat that Mr. Crowder had bought for all the kids in sight at the concession stand. Well, bought was a strong word. Taken under threat of 'What're you gon' do 'bout it?"

Out of the speakers hooked beside the truck comes a raspy 'Ch-ch-ch-ha-ha-ha.'

Little Sally licking his spoon clean. One of the Bennet 's pointin' up at the screen, eager for the maniac in the Hockey Mask to show up. Ch-ch-ch-ha-ha-ha. On screen, some kid, a hitchhikin' youth with they own shock of dark hair, eatin' a freshly peeled ba-nan-a.

Ch-ch-ch-ha-ha-ha.

Little Sally Lautner, eyes wide, drops the spoon and retches over the side of the truck, just as the banana on the Drive-in-Screen runs a syrupy red.

Ch-ch-ch-ha-ha-ha.

Sally gags some, and turns right back to work, scrubbing a away and trying to keep his gorge.

Been a rough weekend for the fella, after all.

[PoeticJustice]

She looked up between Eden and Dallas and then over to Sally with another pleading expression. When he only answered it with an encouraging smile, she turned her suffering face back to the conversation at hand.

True Grit was placed reverently back into her bag, and then she returned to her cleaning, wiping at her brow with the back of her arm.

"I... don't know what a Book Club does. Although a lot of the Four Towers people claim that they are part of a Book Club together," she said as she cleaned. "It... could be fun though..." this was said with the air of one trying to convince herself just as much as whoever she was talking to.

When Dallas gestured to the symbol on her chest, she quirked her head to the side. "Sally wears that on his chest sometimes. What does it mean?"

[Heather N]

Dallas looked down at her shirt and smiled brightly.

"Well the basic explanation is that this is the logo for Superman...well Supergirl in my case. But in the more recent Superman movie they say that it is not an S but Krypton's symbol for hope. Really, that is what Superman and most superheros really are. Proof that even when things are at their worst there is a light at the end of the tunnel."

She blushed slightly feeling that she was nerding out at them.

"If you ever want to read up on him let me know. I could scrounge up a few comics. As for a book club, I also am not sure what you do. I always thought it was like a show and tell sort of thing."

She then realized what she mentioned about the Four Towers people and their "book club".

"And those Four Towers people I think have a "special" kind of book club. I help get a book back from them and well...lets just say I had Evil Dead flash backs and that is not a good thing," she laughed trying to make light of it.

[kimp]

:: Her mouth twisted very slightly to the side in what, for her, might be seen as a look of consternation, Liberty's gaze skitters across the room towards Eden. When no help is forthcoming from that direction, she cracks her neck and pushes away from the wall to move over beside Sally ::

So :: she nods several times, still looking forward, then raises her chin and says in a quiet tone ::
Memories.
:: She cracks her neck to the other side ::
Suck sometimes, huh?

:: She is quiet for another moment, then says :: I'd offer you a drink but... First I don't have one. Not much of a fan for chasing oblivion. I figure it finds us all too easily without us inviting it in. Second, I think, maybe, you might not really want one. Or you would be drinking right now, rather than coming in here to clear the space.

:: At that she turns enough to look at him, meets his eyes, and slowly reaches for the cleaning cloth ::
How about you let me help with this? I think Eden would say something meaningful like a burden shared is a burden halved or something equally as profound.
Because, you know, she's Red. I'm not. I don't make things pretty. So, what I'll say is I'm really good at taking care of messes. If you want, I can help.

:: She tips her head and raises her brows :: After that I'll drown you in my opinions about this place and its parallels to horror stories and you can tell me about Sasquatches and, I don't know, Shine and porches with 12 dawgs under them and how one uses a 'coon huntin' stick'.

:: At that she pauses, leaving it to him to keep scrubbing or share the task ::

[Sally]

As Liberty continues to speak, Sally's face slackens, his brow furrowed into a thick line as his color returns,

"How'd you know I had a 'coon huntin' stick?!" his head cocks to one side, and then the reality of the situation finally occurs to him. He glances over to Alice, then back to Liberty, and then (for some reason) in the generally direction of #5 Main St., where Mellie is bunked along with the the rest of thew.

"You're a-" his voice drops "golldarn psychic, ain'tcha!"

This revelation seems strangely comforting to the man, but isn't all that difficult to follow, given how he's usually within arm's reach of Mellie and Alice.

"Y-yeah, the I'm Dr. Zinc and Bobby Gray both agree that maybe I gotta cut back some on the hooch- that might be tha only thing they agree on, by the by," Sally says with a shake of his head, "But I can't fault company none. Pro-vided this here bubble-scrub is more than enuff, though- no sense in gettin' red all over ya Blue! But 'fore you got tellin' me 'bout how this place compares, you mind holdin' on just a sec?"

Sally picks up a bucket of filthy, reddish water and goes to empty into the mulch out back. He passes Alice along the way, as the young woman works out the details of the Festivities with Eden, Dallas, an' Lou. "Figgered this shouldn't go down the kitchen sink," he'll say in passing. He makes sure to go 'round behind the others, so that their backs are to him, but Alice can see him just long enough to throw a thumbs up her way. He ducks out the back door, his head jerking from side to side before leaving the sanctity of the meeting place, a free hand drawing his revolver, Wynona, as he exits.

After a moment, the splash of water on the ground is clear, and Sally comes back into the AAA. He snags one of the slim paperbacks off Professor Challenger's library (Goosebumps: Welcome to the Dead House) and tosses it up so that it'll arch right at Alice as he passes.

Back at the overturned table, he starts right back up, using both hands to scrub the peroxide-soaked stains. With his normal tan flush back, Sally looks more his old self for the moment, and his dog tags and likewise canine Sigil swinging as he works. Every bit the man comfortable taking orders, following directions from folks that know better, and doing what he's told without much in the way of a question. It doesn't take a psychic to see that this is a man meant to be a Sergeant, and not a General.

"Al'right, Ms. Blue, let's hear the best way to clean up messes- I usually just make him, to be truthful" he looks up at her, compliant as ever, and follows up with, "and whateva' par-a-llels to them there movies ya got."

[kimp]

:: Liberty listens to Sally’s question, her expression mildly perplexed. Then she frowns and says ::
Strangely, until I came to Whisper Hill I didn’t try to put a name to my ‘weird’. I guess I’m a psychic. More like Alice, I suspect, than Mellie but..
:: She shrugs ::
It doesn’t take a psychic to know a good ole’ boy prolly has a coon stick. And knows that there’s meat on them ‘thar grey squirrels.

:: Her eyes track the movement of his hands. She frowns to see the red building up along his knuckles ::
Sometimes it is better to let the things that help us cleanse sit. You might be surprised how good they are at getting the job done on their own.
:: she rolls her eyes at the ooh-spooky-mystic element underlying the words, then adds in more prosaic terms ::
Pour some of the peroxide on. Let it sit. I find its better to leave it there to seep into the cracks. Once it stops fizzing, wipe it up.
Until then you can listen to me babble about movies. Deal?

:: She doesn’t actually wait for an answer, before starting with ::
Horror movies cover a lot of stuff. Slasher, Found footage, Psychological, Monster… but the one I like, the one that Battle Royale is technically, is Survival Horror. Zombies or viruses or aliens… anything where it’s a small group of people fighting to survive against overwhelming odds. Usually they are dropped somewhere or in some other way are isolated so it’s just them against the horrors. Aliens or Pitch Black are good examples of the ‘space survival horror’ stuff. 28 Days Later or Resident Evil cover the ‘supernatural’ horror. Battle Royale is dystopian. Regardless of the subgenre, though, what they share in common is the question of how the protagonist or protagonists are going to deal. What will they do to survive? What will they sacrifice? What will they learn? How will they adapt to survive?

:: She waits a moment, looks at Sally, then rolls forward with an enthusiast’s zeal ::
We, I think, are changing due to what we face here. I woke up one morning and realized I’m not the same person I was when I came here and that was only a short time ago. I’ve never been around people a lot so…
:: She shrugs very slightly :: It’s odd how being around other people makes them seem more real. Also, I used to never do the weird stuff, I’d go for a weapon first, but here? Weird seems kind of normal. I’d bet you are finding the same. Not about the weird, but the changing. Imagine how we might change if we are here longer?
Ancient alchemists used something called a crucible to boil things down to their essence and transform them. I writers of Survival Horror movies try to create situations that are crucibles for their characters. And, I think that as a parallel Whisper Hill may be our crucible.

:: she is quiet a moment, then nods as in agreement with her own thoughts ::
If that makes sense?

:: She grins then ::
I also find it fun to try to figure out which of the stereotypical horror characters each of us is. Not so much who would live but… how would we go out? You and me, we’d probably go out knee deep in brass, likely covering the last of us as they get into a safe place. Or maybe barring the door. But, definitely, knee deep in brass. You, because I think you are a hero. Me, because I might not make it, but I *will* make it hurt for them.
:: She slants a quick glance across the room ::
Eden is too smart. She’d probably be the one to volunteer to go into the place to get the widget then be sealed in, but only after handing it off to save us.
Mason? Duddly Do-Right, leader of some community that has risen from the ashes and is living under his strict :: she coughs dramatically :: totalitarian :: coughs again :: rule. He dies almost at the beginning because he is trying to keep order, save his folk, blah blah blah… Because, you know, I don’t think he has that much to learn so he’s got to go.

:: She ducks her head and grins at her feet, then looks up at Sally. Her expression is an invitation to what some might see as silly, but she knows is as much catharsis as the more symbolic action of cleaning. And doesn’t mess up your hands ::
Who do you think in our group is what character type?