(Untitled)

[bitingmybullet]

The city streets are empty, this time of night-- except for the occasional staggering corpse, which becomes more than just occasional if you turn down the wrong street. Gwen's so exhausted that it's all she can do to follow her nose out of harm's way

Comments

[bass_line_blues]

The music is a lot closer now.

(Punk rock, for the most part. It would have been edgy, a year ago. It probably still is edgy by default - after all, no one's been producing anything new.)

[bitingmybullet]

Gwen pushes herself to her feet, shakes it off. Makes her way to the door and through, out into a hallway. Another door, and she's in a courtyard, and suddenly there's light and people and the music is there right in front of her, played by a couple of kids who've rigged something up.

She stares.

[bass_line_blues]

Preston's one of the people hanging out by the music; he's got a bottle of beer in one hand, but it's only half-empty, at this point.

They've got a pretty insular community, here. So when he sees the strange girl - the girl who looks as if she's been hit over the head by a two-by-four, no less - it's not exactly rocket science to figureo ut that she's new.

Amiably: "Welcome to the University of Chicago."

[bitingmybullet]

A strange girl in a man's flannel work shirt and ripped jeans, hair tied back to disguise the tangles.

She smells the alcohol before she really notices him, but her gaze jerks up to his face when he speaks.

"Uh ..."

Licks her lips.

"... University?"