[Or they're picking them off one by one. The lack of a view is just as creepy as the barred doors.]
All right. So they're trying something out. [Just breathe. Think.] Look, as far as places to get shut in go, at least we got food, we got water, we got plenty of space. If we're here for a while we're not getting run down right off the bat.
... I'm not sure. Someone else might come in, and get caught in it. Hmm. ] But some kind of alarm could be good since we don't know how long we'll be here.
[She is pulling out a bucket, gauging usefulness. Good weight? Ideal shape? How the hell should she know, she's not a bully at Carrie's prom.]
I know it also means you might die together. [Still. She clucks her tongue. Desperate times, you know.] All right, tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.
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WEEK 0: Thursday - REFECTORY CURFEW PARTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Camille batters at the door, her intended carry-out meal under one arm as she wedges her shoulder into the wood for a third time.]
Did they fucking lock us in?
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Need help with the door?
[ Moves to wedge it open... ]
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[She is just a little woman 🥺]
Here. [She backs out of the way.]
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Anyway, he wiggles the door... Pushes it... ]
... Okay.
[ He's going to back up so that he can kick it open. ]
2/2
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[She drops her meal on the nearest table and runs to him, reaching for his shoulder.]
You okay?
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He's holding his heel with a grimace, and just shakes his head. ]
I'm fine. We have a bigger problem.
[ Growing anxiety in the pit of his stomach. ]
Can you check the windows?
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But she also stiffens. The implication is obvious. Camille peels off and takes to the nearest window, yanking on the latch.
Wedging the tips of her fingers in between the wood.
Cursing at the utter lack of give.]
It's stuck tight. Like cement. And I can't see shit out there, it's thick as pea soup.
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Eventually, he just takes a few steps back from a window and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. ]
Shit.
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[Similar conclusion, different coordinates. She covered the windows opposite. Ran to the back in case there were extra exits.
Camille runs her hands through her hair, fighting the mounting panic. It's just her and the kid. Where is anyone else? Ashlyn? Daan?]
Okay. Okay well, we're trapped on ground level, is there a way out from above maybe? Chimney?
[Little pig little pig.]
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I'll check the basement if you check the kitchen?
[ He's already going!! ]
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[She run!
She fails to find anything.]
Any luck? [She calls from the top of the stairs.] I've got nothing!
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No. There's no way out. [ ... ] It's probably not the ritual. Not enough time has passed.
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All right. So they're trying something out. [Just breathe. Think.] Look, as far as places to get shut in go, at least we got food, we got water, we got plenty of space. If we're here for a while we're not getting run down right off the bat.
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[ He's staring at the door, clearly frustrated, but not panicked. ]
Maybe... they caught the four helping us, and are keeping us in place while they handle them.
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Maybe we should barricade. Or set up some kind of — god, I don't know, bucket of boiling oil over the door?
[Turns out her stress response is to turn medieval morbid.]
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... I'm not sure. Someone else might come in, and get caught in it. Hmm. ] But some kind of alarm could be good since we don't know how long we'll be here.
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That's probably the smarter and saner idea, yeah.
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[ bonk ]
There probably is one in the kitchen.
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[We could be playing never have i ever and instead we have this.]
Boiling oil is probably out of the question. Maybe something else unpleasant. Vinegar?
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It'd be disorienting for sure. [ Heads to the kitchen! Looking for supplies.
While they're looking... ]
Have you spoken to anyone about your monster affinity?
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Huh? [Turning, a little off guard.] ...Why, you want to trade secrets with me?
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... Finding a pair gives you some kind of advantage. If you have one, then maybe we could get out of here.
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I know it also means you might die together. [Still. She clucks her tongue. Desperate times, you know.] All right, tell me yours and I'll tell you mine.
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He sighs. ]
We might have to use the wine. [ And then, back to the topic... He's having a hard time going first. ]
How about we start with the first letter?
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