quietplacelogs | Tried to nurse it behind my mom’s back. [Open]

Featuring: Majima (

justbeingknife) and you!
What's happening: Finding old gyms, moving house, let's get drunk on the minibar
Day/s: Throughout March
Content warning: Salty language, drinking, Majima being himself

I feel alive for the first time

[ Ever since they'd found those old boxes of footage, Majima had been wandering further and further out in his explorations, both to get a better handle on the town and because he wasn't so sure their last hit had simply been dumb luck. Sure, coincidences happened, but --

There was a tall building with a white stone facade up ahead, its entrance slightly ajar. Oiling the hinges and pushing the door open revealed a wood-floored room illuminated only by a row of high windows along the back side. PISCINE BOULLINGRIN, read the sign.

It, like its neighbors, looked long-abandoned. But the row of mirrors inside and the markings along the floor suggested that the first room had once been some kind of studio.

ooc: Feel free to stop by and have Majima ask if your character would like to explore the abandoned gym, or find him a little later on rummaging through equipment closets, searching the rooms, or starting some cleanup! This is a general placeholder for any gym-related shenanigans. ]

Each sip hits my lips like a landmine

Uh... thanks.

[ signed Majima as a native carried a bar stool through the doorway and into the house. The man waved enthusiastically at him before leaving once more -- possibly to bump into anyone standing outside.

Should anyone drop by, they'd find that the walk-in basement of Majima's new house was currently filled with random junk Majima hadn't asked for (but appreciated, don't get him wrong): a pair of tonfa, shoes, a 50-pound bag of sand, a dart board... and then there were the boxes of bottled alcohol. These were clustered around the dark wood counter of the mini bar, which to the old owner's credit was beautifully appointed.

Majima shrugged, and plucked the first of the bottles out of its carrying crate -- single malt Scotch, amber in the afternoon light. ]

Guess I'm gonna need a sign.

On the 7th day, it was said God rest/But on the 8th day he made the DVX

[ Later on in the month, with everything squared away, Majima could be found at odd hours behind the bar, cleaning glasses or reading about bartending technique.

Someone who knew him well might think he looked a little more tired than usual, but any new faces? They'd get a smile and a bow from the man at the counter. ]

What'll it be?

Wildcard

[ U know what to do. Additional prompts to follow, maybe. Feel free to hit me up on Tetradecimal or tetra | majima #2434 on discord ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Aw, Majima, did you act like a fool?

She followed after him slowly. Emily had always been light on her feet, and without her appropriate bonecharms, she had to rely on her father's training here. But it was interesting to watch how other people moved around in silence.

Looking over his shoulder at the disarray, she had to resist even a soft snort. It looked like they had left in a hurry, which was the better option. She was waiting, since they saw the videos, to see old evidence of the violence that had been done to most of the population.]

I wouldn't worry about organization if I was in danger of threat. Besides, I've seen worse.

[ WOW, he didn't want to talk about it. Ever.

After a moment, Majima moved over to one side, gingerly using a towel to pick up a key ring. ]

These look like locker keys.

[ Wow, so survival horror. One could only imagine what was in them. ]

Spot anything useful?

[They'd have to be careful opening lockers, but they usually hid things that could be useful. Money, food, notes. Although, knowing they belonged to long-dead people made her feel strange, like they should be held as time capsules.]

The furniture could be re-purposed.

[Stepping into the room, she looked over the desk, easing drawers out. Papers, pens. A book on building muscle, it looked like.

She picked up a mostly unused notebook, turning it over in her hands before sliding it into the pocket of her jacket.]

I've been wanting to get a new journal.

[ Majima picked up some loose rubber bands, used one to fasten the keys securely together and avoid any clicking. And what were these? Hmm, marker pens. He scooped those up, too. ]

Bet Lorem could use some of these. Wanna go find the lockers?

[Emily nodded.]

This feels like the part of the story where we find the dead bodies and call in the guard.

Too bad we are the guard around here.

[ He meant it, but on the other hand, he didn't mean it. Majima usually tried to avoid involving the cops back home, even now that he was a civilian. What would they have done, anyway? Usually just muck up the situation even more.

The lockers, at least, were by the changing rooms -- logical. Majima divided up the keys and handed Emily half. ]

Here goes nothin'.

[ The first locker he opened revealed a pair of athletic footwear -- basically new. ]

Hey, sneakers.

When you say it like that, I'm not filled with any sense of relief.

[Considering the amount of guards she had killed, maimed, or rendered unconscious... Note to self: rebuild the City Watch from the ground up once home.

Emily took the keys, holding them together so that they wouldn't make noise. Her first locker was empty, nothing but dust. The second greeted her with one dirty sock, an old bottle of water, and stuck to the wall of the locker with a magnet shaped like a bunch of bananas was a picture of a family. Mother, Father, two kids.]

How do you leave with only one sock?

[ Majima looked faintly amused. ]

What, no faith in your fellow law-abidin' citizens?

[ The next locker contained... wait, was that...? He bent down and picked up the package of ancient, unopened beef jerky, then held it up so that Emily could see. ]

Pretty sure this qualifies as a biohazard at this point.

Very little. [But she smiled as she said it. Look at that. She could be a normal person.

It took her a moment to process what she was looking at, but jerky was jerky, no matter what world you came from. So that smile? Now a look of disgust.]

Maybe that is the key to defeating our monstrous friends.

Yeah, all we gotta do is give 'em indigestion. Take that, sound zombies.

[ He replaced the bag, then moved on to the next locker. ]

Can't believe it's been a month. Feels like years.

It would be at least somewhat satisfying to find any weakness.

[The next locker she opened contained a bag, still holding a towel, shorts, and shirt. She slid the strap of the bag over her shoulder.]

Do you believe that time home doesn't move without us?

[ Majima hesitated before he answered; it was something he'd been thinking about himself. ]

It seems impossible. Time's time, right?

On one hand, it'd be good if time did freeze back home. 'Specially for those kids -- their parents'd be sick beside themselves worrying, I bet.

No. I've bent time before, slipped between it like I was sliding between sheets.

[It was something that she'd seen talked about here before, and it was something that she'd thought about ever since Stilton's mansion, where the Void had cracked so much from Delilah's resurrection.

She glanced at him when he brought up the children. Her own father would tear the Isles apart to find her right now. It made her hope that their parents would do the same for them.]

On the other hand, it would mean that our lack of presence has broken something.

[ He raised an eyebrow at her, then went back to the next locker.

...A stuffed animal? After a moment, he picked it up. It was a striped orange tabby with yarn whiskers. ]

Sure don't work like that where I'm from. If you can bend time, can you use it in our favor?

[Maybe the gym had housed refugees at some point, but the thought of it was almost too sad. A child without their toy.

She shook her head.] It was a loan of sorts. He took it back after my use for it was completed. [She wished she could now, though, to be able to use the lenses to lift some of the fog of the past here.]

Hey, an argument against returnin' things on time.

[ The next locker revealed an envelope, unsealed. When he opened it and unfolded the sheaf of paper inside, the words 'I'm sorry' were written in large block letters in smears of dark ink.

Oh. Hmm. ]

Y'know what, I'm just gonna put this back.

Trust me, if I could have kept it, I would have. [Being acquainted with a god was an awkward predicament. How far do you push? She'd probably never know.

She glanced at the letter before grimacing. That didn't bode well for the writer.

The next locker she opened was empty except for a water bottle, the contents of which looked to have evolved into something fuzzy over time.] It's like we are spying on their last moments.

Ain't exactly a good feeling, that's for sure. You do any of this back home? Pickin' through old stuff?

[ He swung the locker carefully shut. ]

Alright, think I'm about done with this end.

[The last locker she opened held another bag in it with more clothes. Slim pickings, but she had seen worse. At the question, she glanced at him with a shrug.]

And picking through new stuff, but they could afford to lose a thing or two of bath salts. [Hey, when you're on the run and trying to take back your home, you take what you can get.]

I'm good here, as well.

Tried to nurse it behind my mom’s back. [Open]

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