560 - hope you've got your things together

[hard_talker]

[so many letters in so many days - Mark hasn't seen this much mail on his desk since he was back home in Arizona. he tucks them all carefully away into a wooden box he made for the purpose while he was away in Fairfield, and then takes the other one he'd saved out of its hiding place. on a whim, he reads it over again, and finds himself as touched by Steve Rogers' words as he was the first time he read them:

"Care about these people, be their voice, understand their feelings. Give them the very best of yourself as often as possible. Never lose hope when things get ugly. I want you to fight and always believe that things can get better because they can."

he shakes his head, sighing softly - and then a notion strikes him. maybe it's intuition, maybe it's a flash of something else ... a sign that he's doing something he swore never to do: grow up. whatever the reason, he spins around in his chair and clicks the broadcasting equipment on without fanfare, this week. no music, no rude noises, no filters, no nothing]

Hey. Guys. York, C, Phoebe, Doc, everybody.

I want to know where we're at with our various safety plans. Call me crazy, but I heard a couple things today that gave me the wicked heebies, and ... I just ... I wanna know.

As for the rest of you - whoever we've got left - anybody feel like hearin' anything in particular, tonight?

[on a whim, maybe just to make himself calm down a little, he'll put some fare that's a little more chill than usual]

Comments

dictacted;

[sonatilove]

... I don't like this music.

[hard_talker]

No? I can play somethin' else for you, take the edge off. What'cha usually listen to?

[sonatilove]

00! [It's the only music group left in her universe, after all.] But Sonata sings now! Happier music.

[samson]

[Heathen's not Bowie's best work, as far as Brock is concerned, but its inclusion makes him stupidly homesick.

After a second, he puts this on over the journal and lets it play. The quiet pops in the audio should make it pretty clear that this is Brock playing the vinyl Mark lent him.]

[hard_talker]

[he knows that vinyl sound, and he's pretty sure he knows where it's coming from. he'll let it play out, then:]

Hey, man. How's it goin'?

[samson]

[Bingo, Mark! You get a prize.]

Alright. Getting ready for the other shoe to drop -- it's been awhile since something's happened, you know?

[indirectcause]

[Well, that's a maudlin music choice there, buddy]

Hell if I know if these guys have any plans. [His will be the same as always. Stick with the group, deal with whatever comes, try to ignore the nightmares later]

...You okay, man?

[hard_talker]

[he was going for mellow, but maybe he overdid it... he's been in a weird mood the past week, it's entirely possible]

Not really. Lost a lotta friends the last couple weeks, and now I got the creeps on top of it. Feels real good, y'know?

[indirectcause]

[That is indeed a really crappy feeling]

Sorry to hear about your friends. ...What sort of creeps? [It's hard to tell, when you're permanently nervous if there's something he should be pin pointing his general paranoia at]

[delincuente]

Oh man, I haven't heard "Boston" since middle school.

[Some of tonight's list is a bit mellow for her taste, but she keeps listening quietly for a few minutes, mulling over his words. She hasn't been paying much attention to any goings-on today, but something in Mark's tone does strike concern.]

So, what's going on?

[hard_talker]

That's just it, I dunno, but ... I read somethin' weird in the journal today, an' it gave me the creeps. ... And maybe I'm jumpin' at shadows, but three years in this place? You learn to pay attention to the creeps.

[delincuente]

Yeah? What kind of weird thing?

[She gives an appreciative hum at the last part.]

Hm, kind of had the opposite affect on me. I'm pretty sure I don't notice half the creeps here anymore.

[silentrunning]

[Chell answers. Per usual. He's not lost her.]

What've you heard? And... anything you wanna play. Could you use some company? I could stand to get out of my room.

[hard_talker]

It was a rhyme ... 'couple of people heard it in their sleep the other night, and it ...

I dunno, remember when I was talkin' about hearing voices while I was asleep, and not bein' able to remember what they said? It ... it reminded me of that.

[silentrunning]

[And Chell recalls what she'd paged back through the journal and saw, and she felt a shiver slide coolly down her spine.]

Something about taking seven? I... didn't hear it, but it doesn't bode well. I saw it in the journal. That's some scary shit. I think people should take it as a warning.

[She's wondering right now how many people are actually left in the Castle.]

Do we need to make a tally of who's still left?

Mark

[originalcopy]

Depends on what we need to keep safe from. I've got something if those bug alien things make a move. Probably work against a few other things too.

This place isn't great for making solid plans...

Church

[hard_talker]

That's the problem, I don't know yet. I don't think it'd be the Collectors, though, they ... if they were coming this way the guys at Fairfield would've let us know, don'cha think?

[not_nikkiheat]

Things have been quiet for too long. I feel like something's going to happen soon.

[hard_talker]

You too, huh?

... I just hope we're not completely caught with our pants down, whatever it is.

Dictated

[the_effect_she_has]

...Give me something hopeful.

[Katniss said quietly, resting her chin on her knees, as she sat in her bed, listening to the radio.]

[hard_talker]

I think we could all use that. Hang on, there's ... there's a song my Mom used to sing me, when I was a little kid...

[he's not sure why, but it's the first thing that comes to mind when he tries to think of hope - specifically a Katniss sort of hope. that quiet, simple strength she seems to have that just Is]

Try this on for size.

[kungfuwitch]

[She cringes]

I keep meaning to have another meeting but things keep coming up. [A sigh] I'm sorry, Mark. I feel like I'm letting everyone down with this Code Blair thing.

[hard_talker]

What? Whaaaat, no! Where the-- Phoebe. Where the fuck did that come from? You're doing fine.

[he frowns] It ain't your fault that things keep happening and we haven't had the time to stop to breathe, let alone have meetings and call people together and shit. Have you noticed that? I mean - it's been "busy", I guess you'd call it. It's like the castle's got the goddamn munchies.

Mark

[encryptedlock]

The hangar's stocked and in good condition. It can host probably thirty people for a week, but it'd be crowded. Fifteen or twenty would be better. I have the second Danger Room set up to host at least twice that many but I'd rather not tell anyone outside of my friends about that in case there's a leak in the castle somewhere. That's kind of a last resort measure. Northern outpost is fully stocked, and I'm starting to put supplies in Fairfield, too.

Problem is, Carolina just arrived here from Fairfield today. Castle pulled her back. Not what I'd call a good sign.

York

[hard_talker]

It pulled her --

Fuck.

[he sighs, flopping backwards in his chair to stare at the ceiling]

Somethin's definitely coming, then, if it wants her along for the goddamn ride that bad. Is she okay, otherwise?