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entrancelogs2014-10-24 08:31 pm
markedbyfate) wrote in entrancelogs2014-10-24 08:31 pm
[open] Don't make it tough - I'll put away my pride
Who: Alex Lannon Eli Cooke and YOU
Where: All around Storybrooke, but mostly at the garage where he works
When: 10/24-10/28
Rating: PG-PG13?
Summary: Not much has happened to Eli since high school. And he kind of likes it that way.
The Story:
Friday 10/24-Saturday 10/25
After he graduated high school, Eli had hoped to join the army. He was ROTC, after all. But a guy needs money to go off on his own, so he'd got a summer job working at the local body shop. And then fall came. Then winter. And eventually, Eli had forgotten about his plans to enlist, finding he liked the simple life a blue collar job as a mechanic offered him. If your car's broken down, bring it to Eli. He'll fix it, and he won't overcharge you for the labor, either.
Walk or drive into the shop, and it's pretty simple. There are cars up on lifts, and music playing on the radio. Eli is probably wearing his usual grey, oil-stained t-shirt and a pair of coveralls, his bare arms showing the muscle gained from years of hard work. He'll greet you with a smile, and proceed to chat about the weather, but mostly about how your car's doing. After work, you can probably find him walking home. Yeah, the guy who works on cars walks to work. Go ahead, it's nothing he hasn't heard before.
Sunday 10/26-Monday 10/27
Eli's been having weird apocalyptic dreams, about angels and fighting, all taking place in the Nevada desert. He chalks it up to watching a few too many zombie movies lately. Even though he hasn't been watching any zombie movies. On Sunday the shop's closed, so he goes to Pastor Whele's church and attends service, then runs a few errands. He feels a little off all day, though.
Monday morning he wakes up with tattoos all over his chest and back, reaching down to cover his arms. Frantic, he tries to scrub them off, but they won't wash away. He has no idea where they came from (he didn't get drunk last night...) and is pretty much freaking out. He'll probably call out from work and seek medical attention.
Tuesday 10/28
He remembers. At least, he thinks he remembers. Memories of a whole other life are in his head, making him question what is real and what isn't. He doesn't even bother calling out of work, and heads straight to the bar, trying to drown the invading memories with drink.
Where: All around Storybrooke, but mostly at the garage where he works
When: 10/24-10/28
Rating: PG-PG13?
Summary: Not much has happened to Eli since high school. And he kind of likes it that way.
The Story:
Friday 10/24-Saturday 10/25
After he graduated high school, Eli had hoped to join the army. He was ROTC, after all. But a guy needs money to go off on his own, so he'd got a summer job working at the local body shop. And then fall came. Then winter. And eventually, Eli had forgotten about his plans to enlist, finding he liked the simple life a blue collar job as a mechanic offered him. If your car's broken down, bring it to Eli. He'll fix it, and he won't overcharge you for the labor, either.
Walk or drive into the shop, and it's pretty simple. There are cars up on lifts, and music playing on the radio. Eli is probably wearing his usual grey, oil-stained t-shirt and a pair of coveralls, his bare arms showing the muscle gained from years of hard work. He'll greet you with a smile, and proceed to chat about the weather, but mostly about how your car's doing. After work, you can probably find him walking home. Yeah, the guy who works on cars walks to work. Go ahead, it's nothing he hasn't heard before.
Sunday 10/26-Monday 10/27
Eli's been having weird apocalyptic dreams, about angels and fighting, all taking place in the Nevada desert. He chalks it up to watching a few too many zombie movies lately. Even though he hasn't been watching any zombie movies. On Sunday the shop's closed, so he goes to Pastor Whele's church and attends service, then runs a few errands. He feels a little off all day, though.
Monday morning he wakes up with tattoos all over his chest and back, reaching down to cover his arms. Frantic, he tries to scrub them off, but they won't wash away. He has no idea where they came from (he didn't get drunk last night...) and is pretty much freaking out. He'll probably call out from work and seek medical attention.
Tuesday 10/28
He remembers. At least, he thinks he remembers. Memories of a whole other life are in his head, making him question what is real and what isn't. He doesn't even bother calling out of work, and heads straight to the bar, trying to drown the invading memories with drink.
Monday afternoon;
He knows where he lives, it's a small town, and he makes quick work of the drive to his house.
The knock on the door is light at first, then more insistent.]
Eli, it's Michael.
[He keeps his voice calm, to show he isn't worried, but he's only a few hard knocks on the door away from busting it down.]
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Michael, thank god. Come in.
[ After Michael has entered, he checks that no one else is around (suddenly paranoid for some reason), and closes the door behind him. ]
Something really weird is happening.
I kept typing Alex. :/
[He can't keep the worry from his voice, and he lets Eli usher him inside, the door snapping shut behind him.]
You didn't come to the meeting, I was concerned.
[Michael looks around the room, then back at Eli, trying to figure out what is going on.]
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He pulls back the sleeves of his shirt, showing the tattoos printed all over his arms. ]
This is what's wrong. I woke up this morning and these... markings, this writing was all over me. And it won't wash away. I've tried everything but sandpaper. I don't know what to do.
[ If he sounds frantic, that's because he is. ]
Please, Michael. Tell me what's going on.
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He looks up at Eli's tone, and he sets his face into a mask of practiced calmness.]
I don't know what is going on, but I'll help you figure it out.
Are they everywhere, and all in this strange language?
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I can't read them.
[But, the writing seemed familiar to him as well.]
What language do you think it is.
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I just want to know where it came from.
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[Michael knew this was beyond his expertise.]
Should.. we go to a doctor?
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'Cause I mean, yeah, I went to the bar last night, but it was to talk to Neal. I only had one beer.
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[Michael shook his head, they weren't fresh, but would a doctor believe him?]
And, after you were finished at the bar, you went straight home? Woke up with these?
[He was trying to piece it together.]
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[ He hesitates, then adds, ] I've been having... I don't know if this is relevant, but I've been having these weird dreams too.
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[Michael doesn't say anything, but he's been having strange dreams as well. One where he was standing in the middle of a desert, black feathers raining from the sky, and as unusual a dream that might be, this wasn't about him.]
What sort.
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[Not that that would be the only reason he would dream about the place.]
Angels?
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Yeah, except they look like demons or something. Big, black eyes, and dark veins all over their skin. But for some reason, in the dream, I know they're angels.
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Alright. A part of me wants to tell you that the dreams are your subconscious way of coping or releasing emotion, but another part of me knows this is something else.
But, I don't know what.
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[ Because Michael's opinion means a lot to Eli. More than an anger management counselor's opinion rightfully should... ]
Saturday morning
Which is why she finds herself in Eli's shop, hoping that he'd be willing to make a house call. If Abigail knew the number of the shop she would've called ahead but she didn't, so here she was.
"Hello?" She calls out as she steps inside, looking around for any signs of life. "The door was open so I came in."
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"Hey, yeah, come on in. What seems to be the problem?" He's found that people only tend to come to the shop when their cars are having trouble, so he's defaulted to asking what's wrong instead of asking 'how can I help you?'
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"Do you do house calls? I would have brought my car but I've been having some engine trouble- it was making a weird noise when I switched the car on."
disclaimer: I know nothing about cars.
He's already grabbing his jacket and his toolkit from the back, though, regardless of the answer.
That's okay! Neither do I.
She watches as he moves to the back to get his stuff, speaking after him. "Thank you. For doing this. Offering to go out of your way to fix the problem with my car." The more she heard from him, the more she thought he was of the decent sort. "I'm Abigail by the way."
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Abigail steps outside of the shop and waits for him, hoping that he would be able to fix the problem with her car- it was pretty much her lifeline. "So, how long have you been working here for?" Just making conversation while they walked to her place.
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He motions for her to lead the way to her house. "'Bout as long as I can remember. Started working after high school and just... never quit." He shrugs. It's a living, right?
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"Quite a few years then. That's good, doing something that you enjoy." It seemed to her that he enjoyed it anyway. She leads the way, making sure that Eli was beside her. "I haven't really found anything in the way of jobs here yet."
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It's easy keeping pace with Abigail, seeing as he's only about an inch taller than her. "What do you want to do?" he asks. "If you really need a job, we could use someone to answer the phone sometimes at the garage."
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She checks ahead to see where they were, then turns back to him. "You'd offer me something? It would be a lifeline if you did. I'm good with people and I have a great phone voice."
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When she asks him about the job offer, he takes a breath and rubs the back of his head. "Well, I mean, I'd have to check with the guys to see if we could swing it, payroll wise, but yeah. It'd be part time, daytime hours." He smiles at her. "Plenty of time for you to be with your daughter."
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"Yeah, of course. I understand that you have to ask them." The last thing she wanted was to put him out of pocket if he couldn't afford it. "That would be absolutely perfect, Eli."
She returns the smile, before looking ahead. "Oh, we're almost there. Just a few minutes."
saturday :3!!
Check ups, and things of the sort, to see that everyone's staying relatively on schedule. They can't have more people ditching work like Neal, after all.
"How's she coming along?" Dean nods at the car he knows Eli's currently working on. It definitely looks better than before, but then, if anyone knows their way around a car, it's Eli.
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Wiping his hands on his trusty rag, he asks, "Hey, you heard from Neal? He didn't show yesterday or today."
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"Saw him at the bar, but... I don't know, something was kinda off about him. More than just with the weak excuse he gave me." Normally Dean's the type to push, especially when it comes to the shop and making sure things there run smoothly business-wise. But Neal had not seemed himself, and for once he'd figured maybe space is what was best.
He falls quiet before snorting quietly. "If you see him though, kick his ass for me. Dude can't keep skippin' out on his shifts."
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"I'm gonna call her owner then take my lunch. Can't keep working on cars all the time, you know?"