and we wait...

I smiled. How was it, I was living in the end of the world, and I was more comfortable with this girl than I did around anyone before.

After eighteen months of being away from my city and not talking to hardly anybody this was incredibly nice to have friend ship again

"So," I said suddenly feeling a little awkward. "Shall we go book hunting? Someone should probably stay near him..."

I shrugged. "Do you want to make first watch?

((how long should he stay knocked out? I would love to contribute, put he should probably still be not awake...))

(Your character. Wake him IP of you would like)

((Waiting for 13ob))

((...I'm waiting for the perfect moment to wake him up. just continue on))

So I sat down in some of thise wooden library chairs a reasonable distance from our would be attacker who was still tried up.

I went searching through the books. While digging in one pile I found a copy of Harry Potter. It was dusty and battered, but still recognizable. I held it in my hands and stared at the familiar cover for a moment. How many nights had I spent with a flashlight under my blackets reading and rereading these books? I wondered back to Eleanor. I gave a small half hearted smile as I handed her the book. "How long has it been since you read this?" I asked curiously. How long had it been since we had any magic in our life...?

I recognized the text at once. "Wow, it has been a long time. I think the last time I actually read them all I was...fourteen? But I was involved in all he fancraze

"Did you dress up when you went to see the movies?" I asked with a small laugh.

"No, it was always after practice. I can actually remember sing six being all sunburned and getting to the theater in shock that I was wearing Slytherin green"

I laughed. "Those were the days huh? We were worried about being Slytherans, now we are worried we are going to die any day." I shook my head, looking down at the book. "Life turns on a dime."

How true it was. "So were we going to read to him?"

Name: Martin
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Appearance: Brown hair, brown eyes, short brown beard, very pale. Carries a long metal bar, two knives, and a prodd (sort of a crossbow, shoots marbles) made from an old garage door spring. Wears a sort of armor made from parts of old cans and other scrap metal painstakingly attached to an old pair of mechanic’s coveralls. Cloth is sewn over the metal so it isn't shiny or noisy. The coveralls were made for him at 14, so they are short and tight, but they work well enough as armor. He also has a metal saw, a wood saw, a hand-cranked flashlight, a periscope made from a plastic tube and two pieces of a broken mirror, a box with 15 matches, a lighter (one-quarter full) an acetylene cutting torch (only one small tank each of acetylene and oxygen), three candles, several lengths of rope, a multitool, a set of wrenches, a hammer, and a picture of his parents. He also carries his dad’s cell phone for sentimental reasons even though there is no electricity. In his hideout he has the necessities of life after the collapse.
Back Story: Martin didn’t live in or near Xobrettahc before The End. He lived with his parents in an area that suffered much heavier ashfalls. Martin’s parents were poor before The End, and taught him to make do with what he had. When The End came, Martin’s parents shut themselves in the house, blocked all the windows and doors, and plugged the chimney in an attempt to keep the ash out. It worked until the house collapsed under the weight of the ash, killing his parents. Martin was in the basement and managed to dig himself out. He hid in an elderly neighbor’s root cellar until the ash stopped falling, eating the food that his neighbor had stored there. (He found out later that the neighbor had died from ash inhalation) When the ash settled, he emerged and travelled around looking for other survivors carrying as much food as he could carry easily. After his first encounter resulted in him being robbed, beaten, and left for dead he armed and armored himself using whatever he could find. He later travelled down the river to Xobrettahc and set up a hideout in a parking garage. He is now starting to explore, looking for other survivors but always suspicious of others who might want to rob him again.

(wow, that ended up much longer than I had planned)

Journal: Day 240:
I am amazed at how much I have changed since before The End. I used to doubt myself, used to lack confidence. People would look down on me because my family couldn't afford to buy things. Now I am much more confident, because I see how much better off I am than my former detractors. I worry about other people though. The only times I have seen other people interacting, the interaction was primarily violent. Earlier today I saw two girls beat up a guy who tried to hold them up. It seemed as if the girls knew each other, as if it was premeditated. I had been watching the guy for some time, both because he stayed in the library and I wanted to remind myself how to read, and because books make good fuel. One girl went first, the other staying behind. They pulled it off well, the one inside pretending to be innocent and powerless while the one outside distracted the poor guy, then attacking him when he took his attention off her. It was over before he could react. I stopped watching through my periscope. I hate watching things like that. Maybe one day I'll step in and stop it...

Real world:
"Why not today?" I say to myself as I wind up my prodd.
I enter the library ready for anything, or so I think. I am not prepared to see the two girls in friendly conversation, talking about making friends with the tied-up boy.
"So you're not going to kill him?" I ask

I turned to the voice slightly surprised that somebody else was here. How many other survivors could possibly be hiding out in the library? "Uh no." I said "unless killing with kindness counts." Why did I sound so annoyed?

{Martin}
I hesitate, wondering whether to trust this girl. I haven't seen anyone show kindness to strangers since The End. I look from her to the other girl to the guy on the floor. Then I notice the books in their hands.
"How can I know you are different from the others? Everyone I have seen since the collapse cared only for themselves, their friends, and their relatives. And what are you doing with those books?"

I looked at Lyrica unsure exactly what I should say. "Well when you are out of friends you have to find new ones. Books are stories and memories that make you feel bette which she and I were just talking about if you had been paying attention". (Tiana needs to post...)

I had muted again. I knew Ellie. Sort of.... I knew her well enough anyways. This guy seemed very threatening. How were we going to handle this? We had barely taken out the first guy!

I know that humans are not supposed to be able to sense fear,but I could tell my first companion in years was feeling apprehensive like I was. I decided that questions would be our best stalling for now.
"Who are you anyways, bud? How many more of you guys are hiding in the shelves? How long have you been watching us?"

I am extremely surprised to see that the girls don’t seem to be getting ready for a fight, but I'm still a bit suspicious. I have seen people betray others. My internal resistance to the idea that these might be good people after all is starting to crack, but isn’t gone.

“I’m Martin. If you really are nice people, then I’m pleased to meet you.” I lower my prod. “I don’t think anyone else is hiding here, I haven’t seen any and I’ve been watching this place for a few days, trying to find a time when he was away so I could borrow some books. They make good fuel, and some of them are useful or interesting. So who are you, why are you here, and how can I know you are different?”

At this point, I had been awake for a few minutes, but I tried not to make any noise. I was sitting, watching, and slowly loosening my bonds. My ankles were free now, and my wrists were loose enough that I could move them. I was now just sitting back, waiting for the time to make my escape.

"Well I am Elli-" I could sense something different. Our previous attacker perhaps? Turning to glimpse that direction, pretending to look at the clock in the south wall I could see he was free. Shoot. If I moved now he would know and run for it. If not he would escape and rob other innocents or kill them trying. I smoothly tried to continue the conversation keeping my voice even. "You have been around here for days? Then you know where the exits are correct?"

"That clock doesn't work, it's been dead since the electricity went off at The End."
I glance in that direction. There is nothing there except the prisoner and some bookshelves....
I immediately assume that they have some confederate behind there with a missile weapon ready to attack me. Maybe even a still-functional gun. I jump behind a bookshelf, then peek back