When: 10am, Day 1 of Hurricane Jac Who: @dearestdarkling
Quin only heard the announcement by chance. He had just gotten his car back, flicking through the radio channels to fix his presets that the mechanics had messed up with, when the local news channel he was trying to replace with his usual music had made the storm announcement.
A hurricane. Of course it was. Why not? America was full of ridiculous weather events (he would never forget the first time he actually saw up close what the hell a tornado was), and it was just his luck to be caught right in the path of yet another one. The stadium was across town, but the radio had made it clear there were a few hours before it hit and he kept a bag of essentials in the trunk at all times, so at least he had plenty of time to make it. He didn’t like the idea of packing into one building with the rest of the people of Port Leiry, but it was better than finding a random building to hole up in. These kinds of things made it difficult to know whether he’d be better off going low to avoid winds or high to avoid flooding.
Flooding. This town was right on the sea, it was sure to happen if this storm was as big as the news had claimed. It might even reach far enough inland to hit No-Man’s Land.
He hated how that made him pause. It was truly, honestly sickening how his stupid, idiot brain was making him worry. It was a symptom of spending too much time in one place. He’d learn people's names, find the ones who didn't mind him being awkward and strange, and start to think about more than just his immediate well-being like a fool.
Kicking himself internally, he started his car and turned, not towards the stadium, but towards that awful little lab that just happened to have one of the few consistently friendly faces in town.
Half an hour to No-Man’s Land, plenty of time to build an argument for himself about how terrible of an idea this was, all as he kept driving. Plenty of time to combat his own argument, to repeat that the bosses probably wouldn’t like it if someone they’d gone through the trouble of kidnapping and relied on the research of for their products drowned in their awful little lab. And he did say he would pay her back someday for spending so long explaining to him how the four humors weren't on the cutting edge of medicine anymore...
He hit the curb turning into the lot, screeching to a stop in the owner’s spot (sue him, it’s closest to the door and that weird human who ran the upstairs business always looked at him funny), taking enough time to reach into the backseat and dig around for the empty bag he’d carry bigger deliveries in before quickly making his way into the building.
He took the lab steps two at a time, unlocking the door at the bottom of the steps and holding out the bag to Eleanor. “There's a hurricane. Pack your things.”
