Realistic or Modern 𝘼𝙎𝘾𝙀𝙉𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙏: 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙎𝙋𝙄𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙔

[Lord of Woe]

Tuesday, June 11th, 10:21 PM
2710 N Hwy 190, Covington, LA
'Valero' Convenience Store
​

---

Emergency Alert alarms screamed rhythmically from an ailing car stereo, overpowering the roar of the rain and the droning of traffic beyond the windows. An automated voice broke through the digital howling and spoke with artificial urgency of an ongoing immanence event. It mentioned Covington High School and the Parish Fair Grounds, stressing that individuals west of the Bogue Falaya should take cover immediately. The message began to repeat for emphasis before being promptly interrupted by Adrian fingering the power button on the receiver. Muffled exterior rain retook its place as the reigning ambiance within the cab of the rickety Honda that cruised down 2nd Street.

Purple lights strobed through rain clouds far to the west, imitating a lightning storm in slow motion. A spectacle that made it hard to concentrate on driving in the otherwise poor visibility of nighttime rain and fog. Adrian couldn't help but note how bad it looked, even as far as immanence storms were concerned. It was only fifteen minutes ago that he'd been on that side of the river. He'd almost consider himself lucky, though it felt nearly impossible to believe in luck when one found themselves trapped in the exclusion zone. Nearly four million square miles of United States soil, and it just had to be this little corner of southeast Louisana. Adrian let out a single syllable of ironic laughter to himself before flicking the lever for his turn signal.

Loose bits of asphalt hissed and scraped beneath his tires as he pulled into the parking lot of the Valero that sat at the intersection of 2nd Street and US Highway 190. It was one of the only gas stations still operational in Covington. A fact that it displayed proudly with a handmade sign shoved in the turf between the parking lot and the road. Awning lights flickered lackadaisically, clinging to function despite the weathering of already countless immanence events. Adrian pulled his vehicle into one of the store-facing parking spaces, now shielded from any further battering by the rain. A turn of the key killed the humming engine with an audible click from the outside.

Grunting, he leaned forward to pop the passenger-side glove box and fished out a leather accordion file bag. Thumbing through it, he fished out a photo of a young woman; Olivia Maddox. She had been missing since the immanence event that shook this side of the river almost two weeks ago. Just like every missing person nowadays, the authorities were at either an abject loss of what to do or were just flat-out refusing to do anything, to begin with. The rate at which people when missing now was so high it bordered on absurdity, which meant Adrian's phone often rang off the hook with inquiries for his services. He hadn't closed a single case yet, but at the very least he was making attempts.

This time, he was looking, perhaps fruitlessly, for a lead as to Olivia's whereabouts. Normally it was all guesswork and deduction, but this time he had something, even if it was small. Officially, she was last seen leaving the campus library of Delta College on 5th street, just a few blocks across the highway. However, despite most surveillance and digital record of the time of her disappearance being scrambled due to the immanence event, he managed to dig up a singular frame from the CCTV at a nearby used car dealership that suggested she was heading in this direction. It wasn't much, but it was a hell of a lot more than he had in every other case. Now it was just a matter of hoping the trail didn't go cold here.

Adrian stepped out of the car and weaved passed loiterers and regulars toward the inside of the Valero. Fluorescents threatened to summon a migraine upon him while their irksome spectrum assailed his pupils. A minuscule pain absorbed his exhausted eyes as they struggled to adjust to the bright lights meant to make products look appealing. Though all they really did now was cast glares on mostly empty shelves and sparsely stocked endcaps. Lack of product lent a sort of fatalism to the otherwise mundane sight like a grocery store during the death throes of the Soviet Union. That was the unfortunate reality of living in the exclusion zone. Things once abundant and unremarkable were now scarce, and the National Guard only handed out the absolute minimal essentials. Tylenol and Cigarettes held more value than gold now.

A functioning, filled coffee machine was nearly a small miracle. It was one of the reasons this place was still running at all, an inexplicable reserve of shitty gas-station coffee. They even had pizza pockets left to this day, though the warmer struggled to stay on after several destructive attempts at robbery. Cup beneath the spigot, Adrian pulled the lever and watched the black slowly fill the paper cup as the warmth it wrought overtook his left hand. A smell hit his unsuspecting nostrils. Coffee, of course, but it had an odd undertone to it, almost like it was stale. He dipped, took a more deliberate sniff of the steam that billowed from his cup.

"Yeah, you're better off not drinkin' it." A voice remarked from his left.

Adrian looked up, and saw an unassuming man with a small, knowing grin on his face. "That bad?" Adrian asked as he snatched the last packet of creamer and dumped it in, expecting to mask an additional bitterness.

"Nah, cause of what they put in the water, yanno? You smelled it, didn't ya'?"

Idle stirring filled the silence that followed. "I'll be alright," Adrian assured, skeptical of the odd assertion.

"Heh," the stranger emitted. "Suit yourself, man."

Venturing to the counter, Adrian placed his coffee on the counter after a small sip. iy wasn't nearly as bad as he'd thought it would be.

"Two forty-six," the man at the counter declared from memory before ringing up the drink a half-second later.

Adrian fiddled with his wallet, pulling out some cash before slipping a photo of Olivia in front of the clerk along with it. "Have you seen this woman?"

"She your daughter or somethin'?"

"No."

The Clerk gave him an odd look before taking his money and opening the register. Adrian tried not to be obviously annoyed with the wordless assumption. "She's missing," he stressed.

"Yeah, she comes in from time to time, I think."

"Recently?"

"I'unno man. You think I keep a log of customers?"

"Look, I'm just trying to pin down where she could have gone."

The Clerk shrugged indignantly. "Maybe two weeks ago?"

Shit. Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. It never was. "Is there anyone else who works here that might have seen her?"

"Just me n' the boss right now."

"He here?"

"She ain't here on Tuesdays. Fifty-four cents, by the way." Money exchanged hands.

"Thanks," Adrian conceded after a moment before shuffling out the doors.

Another sip staved off the rain's chill for just one more moment. A glance was given to the lights still rising and falling in the distance. Not getting any closer, but not showing any signs of dying down, he thought as if immanence events were at all predictable in their patterns. If the employee knew nothing, and no one else worked until tomorrow, he'd have to grasp at straws and ask the regulars. Now it was just a matter of figuring out who looked like they spent a lot of time here.

Thus, Adrian's analyzing gaze began to wander.

 

[ScarletRose]

Lira frown at her finger tips. They kept bouncing off the glass cooler of the convenience shop, as solid as ever. She could hear the drawl of adults at the register and she could tell by the ding of the till she only had a moment until they were done.

What was the point of new freaky powers if she couldn't control them? She snorted in frustration and punched the metal frame. Her fingers slipped through the locked cooler and appeared on the other side, unharmed and as solid as the wrist that remained on the other side of the glass.

She flexed her fingers and grinned. Bingo.

She grabbed a can of second rate beer-- piss water really-- and yanked it through. She stuffed it into the open pocket of her backpack and reached for more. She would never be caught dead drinking this stuff, but ever since the world went to shit others were acting like it was liquid gold. Mark would give her a meal for it at least. She managed to grab two cans more before her fingers turned solid against the locked cooler again.

She glanced over her shoulder, dark eyes tense and wide as she slowly started zipping her school bag up...

 

[paralyze]

It wasn't often that Lorena left her bando, usually staked up with a phone in hand, passing the hours by until the night grew thick. After shuffling through her backpack, unloading important things , she moved a bookcase from the front door. It barred her or anyone else from getting in and out, a measure she took as a result of her trauma. Squeaking and nails on chalkboard type sounds rang out in the abandoned home, the wood underneath peeled up at the front door. Soon she hobbled out, making her way to the Valero nearby the highway.

Tuesdays were food run days. She'd run out of the important things, eggs, milk and bread. Tuesdays were also panhandle days. A few hours outside the gas station she preferred would do it. This Valero in particular had a bigger variety of choices, even fruits and veggies if she could afford, also enough people who’d offer her a quarter or two. If not, they were stuffed into a pocket without any regard for others. It's what she needed to do to keep herself alive.

Ever since the immanence event, her muscles and nerves lit ablaze, that's what it felt like at least. It was difficult to make long treks or defend herself for more than a few punches and kicks. She'd resorted to emptying her bag of all but any change and batteries she could carry. This ability came in handy, sure, but not when she needed food.

Approaching the windows of the Valero, its frosted cover worn with holes and strips taken out from the inside. Lorena was able to see contents within, green-brown oculars scanning back and forth. They had eggs, a bit of bread…. Bananas. Potassium would be best for her continuous muscle spasms, the current now running through her nerves throbbing at her joints. Her grandmother gave her bananas when she’d have muscle cramps from long periods of time on her feet at the market stand.

“Avo…” A mumble in Brazilian portuguese, her head dipping from peering inside the gas station. She turned, back leaning against the brick outside and sliding down to sit. Her legs throbbed, the walk was long, but hopefully it’d be worth it.

Each body that came in and out of those rickety doors, Lorena tried to get their attention with a wave of her hand. “-Excuse me.” Accent thick, they didn’t stop. A few more passed by over the hour. No luck. It’d been quiet for some time, the wind blowing in gloomy sky and tossing fallen leaves about. She hadn’t seen the detective until he came out from the opposite doors, eyes flicking upward to observe him, not waiting until he was walking away to ask: “Sir- Anything you can do to help me, I want something from inside. Please?”

 

[wickedlittlecritta]

Buddy McBride

Tuesday, June 11th, evening
'Valero' Convenience Store
interactions: ScarletRose

It could have been worse, Buddy had said, when the emergency alert came on over the ambulance radio, and his partner had grumbled that it could have been better, like she always did. But if an immanence event had to happen over the high school, at least it was well after the last after school activities had ended, and the school was empty. Evac would have been a nightmare.

The radio kept repeating that grating emergency alert, and in the passenger seat Teresa said, "I'm going to go insane," and leaned forward to rifle in the glovebox for the casette to mp3 converter she kept stashed there.

When Buddy didn't respond, Teresa continued, "You know it's going to be a shit night, McBride. It always is, after one of these fucking events."

"And who does it help, exactly, if I get pissy about it before it even starts, huh?" Buddy asked.

Teresa rolled her eyes. “Sure, Bud.”

“You’re too young to be this cynical.”

“You spent too long in the military to be so chipper.”

“I’ll have you know I work hard for this personality.”

Teresa grinned at that, just as peppy dance music replaced the monotonous screech of the alarm. "Do we need gas?" she asked as they approached the station.

"Can't hurt. Especially if it's gonna be a shit night."

Teresa snorted and disappeared into the convenience store after they'd parked, leaving Buddy alone in the lot to gas up the old diesel ambulance. It was raining hard, and he was glad of his big red jacket and his hat.

Teresa wasn't wrong--tonight was going to suck. He just didn't want to think about it and make it suck earlier than it had to. Buddy leaned against the ambulance and sighed as he waited for it to finish fueling.

By the time it had Teresa hadn't come out of the store so Buddy went in looking for her, to find her looking at the energy drinks with the longing look of a child ogling a puppy. "That shit'll kill you," Buddy said.

"Spare me," she said, rolling her eyes at him. Which meant she missed the teenage girl at the next set of cooler doors reach her hand through the locked doors to pull a beer free. Buddy looked away, back at Teresa, before she could follow his gaze.

"You getting the heart attack in a can or what, Deschamps?" he asked, most of his attention still focused on the girl. The Ascendant. She wasn't that much older than Sydney, really--fifteen? Sixteen?--and he couldn't help but think of what might have happened to her if he and his mother hadn't been around.

He wasn't a cop.

"It's not worth the lecture," Teresa said, sticking her tongue out at him, and grabbing an iced tea instead. Buddy took the opportunity to look at the girl again and jerk his head to the side. Get out of here, before someone else catches you.

 

[Mayali]

Rain came down like some incessant veil blanketing what wasn't already swallowed up by darkness. Things caught within that not-quite-translucent haze included one green Honda Civic, carefully traveling southbound along 190's now shiny blacktop. And inside, seated behind the steering wheel, Nina kept her gaze steady on anything visible through its splattered windshield. The wipers going swish-swish across there did little to improve visibility, though. Just produced another almost translucent haze she was peering past in her seemingly unending search for a specific type of business.

Preferrable ones not dark and empty, like those she'd driven past to reach this far south away from Pine Crest apartment. It was too late to turn back by now, what with the gas gauge hovering threateningly over the big letter E in an unspoken countdown to when it'd give out. Yet gas stations were becoming as scarce as Koalas would be around in these parts. Between the Exclusion Zone cutting off any decent supply chain and Immanence Events terrorizing potential customers, any life most businesses might've had was getting squeezed out of them.

So Nina let out a relieved breath when the Valero, bright inside and with that sign proclaiming it as open, came into view at the next intersection. Her Honda's highlights cut through the downpour as she turned to pull into the parking lot, slowing to a stop alongside one of their fuel pumps. Quickly flipping off the highlights and wipers before turning the key in the ignition to off.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The thunderless rain laid into the pickup truck fiercely. Compounding the sheet of darkness which befell the driver. With one hand commanding the wheel, the right flicked the switch to the fog lights. Massive cones of light clear the rain-drenched streets. He had heard the warning that he should find cover, but the man, who was built like a brick shithouse, simply couldn't find an avaliable hide-y spot. His eyes smoothly scanned the surroundings, a practiced motion. One that has remained with him for a very, very long time. They find nothing however, the visibility did not help but there was simply no life, illusionary or otherwise. No signs at all.

Then as the dark, night-obfuscated clouds seemed to weigh on the man, a brief sliver of silver shone through the darkness. The bright light of a lit convenience store, the Valero. The man had almost all but forgotten about the place, or it had simply slipped his mind. His index and middle shut the headlights down to low beam as he maneuvered into the parking lot. He dragged the leather coat onto his body. Another article, though not one of clothing, that he had on him was a concealed M1911A1 located on his hip. Though a man of his size and unique ability, he never needs to draw it. But better to have it then be stuck with a rock and a stick.

He turns the key in the ignition off and pops the door. He takes in the rain-stained air. A reminder of better times, times before the EZ, before these sporadic Immanence Events. His head notches down to see the lit interior of the Valero and the painful knowledge that there were more stores like this once. But supply starvation, low customer counts, and people simply not having enough money to go around sealed the death knell for these business; it was complete luck that Nicholas Czechowski's trade is always in need because something regularly requires repairs. In fact, the reason he is out so late at 2200 hour is because of his job.

With hands in pockets, the man entered through the front door. He sighed quietly. A lot of particular characters seem to be crowding the place. Seeking shelter, food, or drink. One particular man stood out to him. Dark haired, bearded. Also clearly well-built and possessed of strong telos. He likely had a gun on him as well, Nick had gotten quite good at deducing people like that. He picked it up from a friend in Bagram.

He secured a bottle of water, partly because he didn't trust to drink anything there. He paid the clerk what was owed then shuffled out the door after the man. Who seemed to be conversing with a woman of Brazilian or vaguely South American features. "I can help." Nick offered, peering down from his massive stature. "Whaddya need?" He said, taking a sip from the bitter-tasting water in his bottle.

paralyze Lord of Woe

 

[Lord of Woe]

Tuesday, June 11th
Somewhere in Covington, LA
​

---

"It's been fifteen minutes," Lucas observed with a quick glance to his watch.

"Whad'ya think they're talking about this time?" Mark inquired, his eyes peeking around the corner into a nearby alleyway.

James followed suit, leaning until only his eyes and the top of his head poked out from behind the bricks. Parker had his back to them, standing several yards from the alley's egress. Across from him, the Old Man who Parker insisted would only speak with him. James hadn't ever gotten a good look at him until now, strangely. If he had to describe him, he'd use the phrase; 'turtle-ish'. Shallow chin, big forehead, and a wrinkly neck with dangling flaps of skin. Not to mention those big, deeply set eyes. One could say he was ugly, though James frowned at the thought of being so condemnatory.

"Ugly, isn't he?" Mark remarked as if he had read James' mind.

James shushed him. He might have thought his mind had been invaded, but Emma was the mind reader, and she was too absorbed in her phone to know what was going on. A car drove by, headlights illuminating the alleyway just enough that the briefcase in the man's left hand became visible for a fleeting moment. It seemed to be the same briefcase the man had last time James caught a very brief glimpse of their mysterious 'benefactor'. It was hard not to wonder what was in there, just as hard as it was not to wonder what he and Parker were talking about. James could only hear them as well as he could see them, a few words here and there, and likewise few details beneath an ailing lightbulb.

"That guy gives me the creeps," Lucas remarked, having snuck his way to the edge for a peek of his own.

The man's regard strayed from Parker and down the alleyway as if he'd heard Lucas' insult. All three of the rubberneckers whispered gasps in unison and quickly hid behind the wall. Lucas and Mark retreated a few steps, but James couldn't resist the urge for another peek. He gave it a few seconds before looking again just in time to catch the sight of the old man adjusting his tie and turning away from Parker with some inaudible final word. Once again, James quickly darted behind the wall before Parker could turn to see him and his poor attempt at eavesdropping. Quickly fumbling around in his jacket pocket, he scrambled to look natural by scrolling the first app he could open before Parker came around the corner.

"Alright, y'all ready?!" Parker half-shouted once he'd regrouped with the others.

Emma finally looked up from her phone.

"What is it this time?" Mark countered, expecting an answer.

"Nothing crazy. Valero on One-Ninety."

"That sounds crazy," Lucas challenged.

"Oh c'mon," Parker pleaded sarcastically. "It'll be easy. In and out."

"It's a gas station. No way we'll be the only ones there. Can't be that easy," Emma seconded Lucas' challenge.

"We'll be delicate," Parker ensured, a sly grin creeping across his face.

"Just like you were with that girl, last time?" Mark prodded.

Parker gave him a dirty look. "It wasn't supposed to go that way."

No one said anything.

"Just get in the car and let's get this over with," Parker demanded impatiently after an uncomfortable silence.

A collective shrug came out of the group, several of them holding their tongues and reservations. James breathed a sigh of relief as he strode toward the car, thankful that no one noticed he was pretending to scroll a calculator on his phone. They piled into a gray Ford Fusion, Parker climbing through the driver's side window. The handle was missing from one-too-many misjudging of his own unnatural strength.

It was a quiet car ride for the most. The sound of rain against the windows agitated every reservation and misgiving that stewed with every foregone mile. Once they got on the highway, Mark suddenly decided he couldn't take it anymore. "Why do we even listen to that guy?" he blurted.

"You don't like the money?" Parker questioned.

"I-" Mark hesitated. "I do, I just can't get over how sketchy that guy is."

"I bet he's a Fed," Emma remarked.

"You think a guy that orchestrates these kinds of things would be anything but sketchy?" James questioned.

"Has a point," came Parker.

"Whatever," Mark spat dismissively before tuning to glance at James, eyes squinting.

"What?"

"You haven't figured anything out? Isn't intuition, like, your thing?"

James shrugged. "I figured out that he looks like a turtle."

"Fuck you, James."

They arrived at the Valero, parking at an out-of-order pump and piling out of the car before making their way towards the door.

Tuesday, June 11th
2710 N Hwy 190, Covington, LA
'Valero' Convenience Store
​

---

Adrian stopped, blinking tired eyes at the woman who suddenly accosted him. A chill went up his spine as she approached, thus he hardly grasped her request and consequentially his response was masterfully stated; "Huh?" Before he could save it, a different individual joined the conversation. Another chill, sending goosebumps raising across his body. What are the odds they both triggered his feeling?

"Help?" he echoed dumbly. Another glance at the woman, and little, ragged details started to piece together a narrative in his head. "Oh," he intonated, an epiphany flooding his tone. A free hand reached into his jacket and retrieved his wallet. Two fingers lifting from his cup parted the edges. Her question replayed in his head, making sense a few seconds after the fact.

"There isn't much to get, really," he informed, looking back at the mostly barren Valero.

A final chill assailed him as a group of four walked past him into the Valero. Visibly, the large man tremored. Adrian's blue eyes followed them, his gaze met with a scrutinizing look from one of the group. They eyed him head to toe as if sizing him up. The Detective rolled his eyes, and returned his gaze forward. An itch was flooding his arm and neck, Ascendant Factor allergy now sufficiently agitated. They were out in droves tonight, weren't they? Six in one place, and two in front of him. A thought occurred to him: Seven, actually.

Noticeably reddened fingers retrieved three dollar bills from the sleeve of black leather. Adrian offered it to the woman with a half-shrug. "National Guard hands out rations at the Fairgrounds, you know? They taste like shit, but they're free." Once the money was retrieved, Adrian's hand would retreat to sate the itch that afflicted his arm. A half-step back from the other two was taken in an attempt to alleviate his ailment.

"By the way..." Adrian reached back into his jacket, producing a picture of a young woman. "Either of you come here often? Seen this woman before?"

It was a long shot, but any lead was better than none at this point.

 

[SavannahSmiles]

Luna Hawthorne

'Valero' Convenience Store

Tuesday, June 11th; Evening

Feeling Tired & Hopeless

interactions

Adrian Lord of Woe

Luna stared down at the bottle of sweet tea she held in her grasp, the open door of the cooler allowing icy air to wash against her bare legs; it was a nice respite from the humidity that waited for her outside.

Her skin was paler than it's normal hue, a sure side-effect of exhaustion and it made the deep purple bags underneath her eyes stand out in stark contrast. She had gotten very little sleep ever since Olivia had gone missing and with dead ends coming from left, right, and center from the authorities, the hopelessness was starting to affect her.

She hadn't even told her parents what had happened because knowing them, they would pack up the car and try to force their way inside the Exclusion Zone and she didn't want that to happen. So she has to fake a smile and pretend everything isn't falling apart whenever they call, but hiding the truth was quickly starting to become over-whelming.

Sighing softly, she let the door close behind her as she headed towards the register to pay, barely aware of the people she passed on her way to the front of the store. Tucking her change into the pocket of her jean shorts, she headed towards the door to face the rain pouring down outside.

"Either of you come here often? Seen this woman before?"

Her head jerked up at the spoken words, a bit of life returning to her tired eyes. The question had been posed by a man to two other individuals, a picture held out for them to examine. Luna shuffled closer until she too could glimpse the photograph. Her breath hitched in her chest at the sight of Olivia's picture and her eyes raised to stare up at the man.

"E-Excuse me sir, but are you looking for her? She's my roommate." Luna said softly, holding her bottle of tea close to her chest as a hopeful expression melted away a bit of the exhaustion on her face.

coded by natasha.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

The walking mountain of a man listened patiently for an answer from the woman. Nick was never much of a devoted pupil in the classroom, but he always listened. From the overblown cacophony of human speech to rifle clicks and the muted hum of engines. The short wait led the man to speculate on the woman's origins. From fugitive to runaway to whatever sordid situation forced her escape. Out of the corner of his sight, he spied a car park at an out-of-order pump at the Valero. A certain sick feeling rested in his stomach. A sense of foreboding like a kitchen knife that sits on your throat. Beads of sweat dripped from his temples. A cold flame was lit under his heart. The man, dejected with himself, ran off that feeling forcibly, sighing to himself about situation. It's been years, he thinks. Yet he can't leave the deserts, the dust, the suspicious eyes beneath the window cracks behind.

The woman did not speak much. Instead, the gruff-looking gentleman did all the talking. Preempting any questions she might have in regards to the store. But then he procured a picture from his coat. He asked them if they had see this woman. Nick tilted his chest ever so slightly. Creasing his brow as he analysed this woman. Eyes remained blank as no idea came to him. Yes, he lived here but his social circle had been tiny; mainly concerning clients or bar-buddies to swig a drink with.

"No, it isn't anyone known t'me." Nick commented while memorising the woman's features. "I'll be on the look out for her though." Until another person entered this tight circle, a college-aged girl who held a warm cup to her chest. So her roommate disappeared suddenly without verbal or written warning. That didn't bode well for the missing person. "I've dealt with missing persons before, perhaps I can help in some way?"

SavannahSmiles Lord of Woe