[Since her arrival, Callisto has stubbornly - and perhaps stupidly - insisted on camping outdoors in the woods. She's far more used to roughing it than she is to sleeping in houses, and she stays close to the tree line, well away from the fog, so she hasn't encountered any major problems so far - but today's rainstorm is beyond her limits. This isn't a light summer rain that she can shelter from under a tree: even if she did have the sort of camping gear that she's used to (and she very much does not), a storm of this caliber would rip through even the best-made animal hide tent. Her choices are to resign herself to being utterly soaked for who knows how long, destroying the meager supplies she's gathered and likely doing damage to her leather armor, or heading inside. She chooses the latter.
She picks 1302 Phillips Drive at random, and though she's already explored most of the empty houses, she gives it another look-through just for something to do. The papers she's been using for Pictionary-style communication, already tattered and ripped from spending most of their time crinkled up in her knife sheath, have not fared well in the storm; she spreads them out on the dining room table as well as she can, but any ink drawings have run beyond recognition, and some of the soaked pages come apart in her hands. This is also one of the rare times she can be found out of her armor, as she carefully sets all the leather pieces out to dry, takes a hot shower, and then spends the next several hours barefoot and wearing a floral nightgown. She probably looks ridiculous. She absolutely does not care.]
B - DAMAGE DONE; OTA
[It starts small, with a tree branch crashing through one of the front windows, and Callisto barely pays it any attention at all - property damage is not high on her list of concerns. Her tune quickly changes, however, when the roof springs a leak right over the table that she's set her papers on, instantly negating the past few hours of drying time. That would be annoying enough on its own, but it's followed up not half an hour later by a portion of the roof caving in: a small portion, all things considered, but a portion that just happens to be directly over the bed that she's laid out her armor on.
The resulting shriek of rage is loud enough to be heard from the street.]
Day 062
[Since her arrival, Callisto has stubbornly - and perhaps stupidly - insisted on camping outdoors in the woods. She's far more used to roughing it than she is to sleeping in houses, and she stays close to the tree line, well away from the fog, so she hasn't encountered any major problems so far - but today's rainstorm is beyond her limits. This isn't a light summer rain that she can shelter from under a tree: even if she did have the sort of camping gear that she's used to (and she very much does not), a storm of this caliber would rip through even the best-made animal hide tent. Her choices are to resign herself to being utterly soaked for who knows how long, destroying the meager supplies she's gathered and likely doing damage to her leather armor, or heading inside. She chooses the latter.
She picks 1302 Phillips Drive at random, and though she's already explored most of the empty houses, she gives it another look-through just for something to do. The papers she's been using for Pictionary-style communication, already tattered and ripped from spending most of their time crinkled up in her knife sheath, have not fared well in the storm; she spreads them out on the dining room table as well as she can, but any ink drawings have run beyond recognition, and some of the soaked pages come apart in her hands. This is also one of the rare times she can be found out of her armor, as she carefully sets all the leather pieces out to dry, takes a hot shower, and then spends the next several hours barefoot and wearing a floral nightgown. She probably looks ridiculous. She absolutely does not care.]
B - DAMAGE DONE; OTA
[It starts small, with a tree branch crashing through one of the front windows, and Callisto barely pays it any attention at all - property damage is not high on her list of concerns. Her tune quickly changes, however, when the roof springs a leak right over the table that she's set her papers on, instantly negating the past few hours of drying time. That would be annoying enough on its own, but it's followed up not half an hour later by a portion of the roof caving in: a small portion, all things considered, but a portion that just happens to be directly over the bed that she's laid out her armor on.
The resulting shriek of rage is loud enough to be heard from the street.]