Lay me down on a bed of roses

[indirectcause]

Who: Ben and YOU!
What: Arriving in Paradisa
When: 28th
Where: Lobby
Rating: PG13 kid has a mouth. Here be your spoiler warning for the game.


[Ben had never really thought much about how fast it takes for a bullet to do its work. Not until he needed it to, anyway. He'd heard the shot, but after that, nothing. It went fast, really fast. There was a vague feeling of gratitude as Kenny pulled the trigger, giving him a mercy he knew he didn't deserve from the man. He'd surrendered to the blackness willingly, no longer a burden to the ever smaller mish-mash of humanity that was their group.

The blackness doesn't last, and that's when he appears on the floor of the lobby of Paradisa, his letterman jacket covered in blood. His blood. Walker's blood. It's a mix, really. He takes in a panicked gasp, scrabbling at the floor and looking around in sheer panic. The alleyway is gone. The walkers are gone. So are Kenny and Lee. ...The pain too.

He glances down at his stomach, the metal that had been sticking out there, a final, horrible promise that he wasn't getting out of that alley is missing. His hand automatically goes to his head, his hair matted with blood (definitely all his own this time) but no hole. Did Kenny miss? He couldn't have. He brings his hand back down to stare at the blood for a moment, before turning to glance around him again, looking for any signs of life.

He's definitely not in Georgia any more]

What the fuck is going on?

Comments

[bronwe]

[ That's a horrible sight to greet at any morning, and Frodo fights the urge to turn around and run back to his room, alone and safe in his solitude. But he can't. The man seems so confused and wasn't he just the same when he first arrived? He must have looked worse and other people helped him then, so...

He approaches timidly, keeping a safe distance, in case all that blood isn't his. ]

The castle. It brought you here.

[indirectcause]

[Ben frowns in confusion for a moment, mistaking the little guy for a kid. But that couldn't be right. It seemed like Clem was the only kid in the whole city, Crawford had seen to that.

But no...he's not a kid, is he? A midget? How has he even survived out here]

...There aren't any castles in Savannah. [Or all of Georgia, come to that]

[bronwe]

[ Frodo ventures a little closer, close enough to reach out a hand to help him stand while his eyes look for any sign of injury on the man. There's too much blood, but he seems well, relatively speaking. ]

You are not in Savannah any longer. I'm sorry.

[indirectcause]

[Sorry, Frodo, he's not accepting that hand, he'll get to his feet by himself. He glances around him worriedly. Everything is way too open here, way too dangerous]

Then where the heck am I?

[bronwe]

[ Frodo takes it back with no issue. He might have done the same to those who greeted him before. ]

We call it the castle. Paradisa. It has taken you here for... some purpose we do not yet know.

[indirectcause]

[That sounds crazy, so so crazy]

How can a place take a person?

[bronwe]

[ He's sorry this is just making him more distressed. Oh dear. ]

You are hurt. Let me help you first, then answer all your questions when you are well.

[indirectcause]

[Nice job breaking it, hero]

No, I'm not hurt. I- [he was, he was hurt REALLY badly, how to injuries just magically stop being injuries?] Not any more, anyway.

[bronwe]

[ NO STOP NOT THE 'H' WORD. He holds out his hand again, slowly so he won't startle him. ]

We can have you cleaned up first then. Are you hungry?

[indirectcause]

I need to find my-

[Oh man, but food does sound good. He's so hungry. Still, the group have learned their lesson about accepting food from strangers]

...What sort of food?

[bronwe]

Any sort.

I could make you a sandwich.

[indirectcause]

[Oh dear god sandwiches. Sandwiches are safe right? He's sure they are]

That'd be good, actually.

[bronwe]

[ He thinks to simply ask for one from the castle... but no, he seems frazzled enough without more surprises. Frodo moves to start walking to the kitchen, looking back to see that the man can walk, despite all the blood. ]

[indirectcause]

[Yeah let's not drop wishing on him just yet. Ben does seem able to walk. He's cautious, almost hunted, looking around every corner, at every door, but he does follow]

[bronwe]

[ Frodo walks slowly so he can follow, waiting after every turn. They get to the kitchen eventually, which is fortunately for the man, empty. He moves toward the pantry first, looking through whatever other residents have left there. ]

What about ham?

[indirectcause]

[Oh dear sweet god HAM. Ben starts to nod, but then something else crosses his face. Uncertainty, perhaps. No, best not until he knows for sure this place is safe]

Got anything without meat in it?

[bronwe]

Ploughman! Cheese and apples?

[indirectcause]

[That gets a weak smile]

Sounds great, thanks.

[bronwe]

[ And he gets to work, eying him surreptitiously. That seems like a lot of blood. ]

You can call me Frodo.

[indirectcause]

[Ben glances down and...yep that sure is a lot of blood]

I'm not hurt. Really.

[Because apparently horrible impaling wounds can vanish now]

I'm Ben.

[bronwe]

But you are hungry, which I reckon is worse. Much worse indeed.

[ It's a joke. He tried. But at least he's about done with making the sandwich. ]

[indirectcause]

[Sadly the joke sails over Ben's head in all its glorious splendour. Maybe next time, wee hobbit]

You get used to being hungry after a while.

[bronwe]

[ He smiles sadly at him as he brings the plate of sandwich over. That isn't right, not right at all. ]

Not here, I hope.

[indirectcause]

[It takes him a moment, just a touch more caution, before he picks the sandwich up. He hasn't eaten anything like a proper meal in so long, as much as he wants to play safe, he wants to eat MORE. So he'll just scarf down that sandwich as if breathing was less important to him. After he's inhaled about half of it, he pauses, a tad sheepish]

Thanks.

[bronwe]

[ Frodo takes the time to drag over a stool to sit on and watch him eat. It's pleasing to see someone enjoy something you've made. ]

Most welcome. That isn't enough, is it?