lights out!

[velveteened]

Date & Time: 4/20, all day
Location: the apartments!
Characters: everyone, tag yourselves in!
Summary: as detailed here, the power will be out from early morning to midnight this night.
Warnings: PROBABLY NOT? will update if need be.

[ catch-all log for blackout shenanigans! ]

Comments

[whatsupcroc]

( If asked to recount what her rise through the air on the jerky, discombobulating ride in the spokes of her own wheelchair, Collette mostly would have "really weird, but kind of fun" to share as commentary. Thus: )

< I'm doing really weird, but that was kind of fun! Does it seem safe enough for me to go back to normal here? I mean, the power went out, not because of something... right? >

[debtor]

[Yes, he'd assume she's doing 'weird', considering she's a bug and all.

He steps away from the chair, deactivating his arm as he glances down one end of the hall, then tries the other. There's no one around that he can see, and no signs of any damage.]

Everything looks fine from here. It's... dark, is all.

[whatsupcroc]

( His "looks fine" is good enough by her. )

< Then I guess I don't need to warn you about watching! >

( Which is all well and good, as she starts the demorphing. She has it down to a minute exactly these days, from perfect other to perfect self. Her return back this time has her llying on her stomach, so she rolls over and works on sitting upright. Chair... chair... moving her arm in a slow arc, she feels her wrist touch one wheel. )

Got it! Wow, that was -- crazier than usual. First time I've been stuck in the elevator with the generators out, too! Thanks for helping me out of there.

[debtor]

[. . . this has been a strange day.

Like a true gentleman!! he doesn't peek, and continues not peeking after she's spoken out loud. DOES SHE HAVE ANY CLOTHES ON he dare not look.]

Y-you're welcome. Um- will you need help, getting to your room...? Or anyplace.

[whatsupcroc]

Uh... any idea what floor we're on?

( She takes this time to check her brakes, moving herself around to get in position and pull herself back up into her wheelchair. )

[debtor]

[Still facing the other way,]

...I'm afraid not. I could check the room numbers. I was heading up to the tenth floor...

[whatsupcroc]

I was aiming for the fourth floor... but I probably know someone on each level? Man, how long is this going to last for?

[debtor]

Hopefully not very long... [He wanders further down the hall, looking for a room number.

His announcement comes a few seconds later.]

It's the fourth floor! [NAILED IT.]

[whatsupcroc]

Yes! Best luck ever!

( She throws her hands up in the air! )

Didja want to come over for a glass of water or something as a thank you? Before you head u the stairs?

[debtor]

[Well, it would be rude to refuse - ]

Mm, I'd like to, thank you.

[whatsupcroc]

All right, great!

( She sounds far too pleased by this. The fact her apartment is mostly empty right now has a decent amount to do with the disproportional pleasure. Collette doesn't like being alone, and yet sometimes, she likes being in an environment under her control.

Which mostly means someplace clean and free of floor obstructions. )

It's down this way.

( She sets herself rolling down the hall. )

[debtor]

[He's rarely heard such enthusiasm over an offer of water, but his smile widens at it. This girl's so upbeat, it's bizarre and refreshing at once...

And he finally dares to look at her as he turns to follow her lead, still afraid she might be indecent. But it seems safe, now.]

All right!

[whatsupcroc]

( Safe enough! She wears enough layers that even with half of them left behind, she's clothed: in tight clothing, sure, but that's hard to tell in the dark.

When she reaches her door, she opens it, calling out a hello despite knowing there'd be no answer -- she tries the switch by the door as well, sighing with brief lightheartedness when it does approximately nothing. )

Never give up hope, right? Man, I know I have a flashlight in here... Want ice or no ice in your water?

( She moves inside, directing herself toward the kitchen on memory and trust in nothing messing around with her organization alone. Her question is asked over her own shoulder. )