DAY EIGHT (morning)

[judgejudy]

DAY 8 (morning) Complex Population: 19 It's 8AM, and you wake from that deep, dreamless sleep that enforces curfew as always. Of course, some of you might be waking up due to a rather alarming reason. — NOTE: This day post will be run slightly differently because of the large amount of things to be discovered. Please indicate where your character is in the subject line of your toplevel, and a mod will reply to conduct the investigation. Please note that some areas may be dangerous, and your characters may be injured, but characters will not be killed (unless you want them to be). This post is for the second day as defined in the schedule. This post is for investigation and general mingling before the trial that takes place in the afternoon IC. ic rulebook character statuses character profiles private conversations graveyard

Comments

[adlucem]

[So, it turns out that having one foot makes you kinda sorta useless.

Well, maybe that's not true for everyone. Maybe that's only the case for idiots who think using a power saw on your ankle is no big deal and that antibiotics are a futuristic mystery. Unfortunately, Leo is one of those idiots, and he's not going to be able to do a whole lot to help. It's frustrating, and it's his own damn fault, which is even more frustrating, and basically Leo is grumpy.

When it seems like Dojima's not about to keel over dead, Leo will start the very long, painful process of hauling himself up. With the makeshift walking sticks (i.e. broken pool cues) fashioned for him by a particularly kind soul, he's at least able to attempt moving around--though he's so slow and awkward about it that you can probably catch him long before he gets to his destination, if you need him. He'll probably fall over a few times, too. Good job Leo.

He'll peek into the apartments as he passes, checking on people to make sure no one else has dropped dead in the chaos. He won't call out, though, and as much as he wants to, he won't make his way downstairs to check on the wounded. He's not sure he'd ever get back up the stairs again if he did.

Instead, he heads for the stairwell, making his way up instead of down. Sooner or later (let's be honest, it's later) he'll make it to the library, and he doesn't bother trying to peruse the shelves for something interesting. He sits down (or rather, topples ungracefully with a loud curse at the pain) by the bookshelf nearest to the door, immediately pulling as many as he can off the shelves he can reach.

Soon, he's got a few decent stacks surrounding him, forming something like a literary barricade. That done, he starts to read--and that's where he's going to stay for as long as he possibly can. Who needs food when you've got books?]