Nine Hundred Ninety-Nine Feet Below Fandom, Friday

[designateddadfriend]

They'd handwavily gotten the ladder truck on its wheels, but even with the ladder extended, they'd only been able to confirm that the ceiling was solid.

There'd be no getting out that way.

Which meant Travis was officially out of ideas. So people were just going to have to bear with him while he treated himself to another sad lump day over in the toppled station.

[some ocd coming]

Comments

Re: New arrivals

[sharp_man]

"I'll hope for the same for my house, then," Hannibal said. "And helmet hair is why brushes and combs exist. Are there things we're short on here? Food I have, and alcohol. First aid, although I imagine you're decently set for that. Do you have an oven, or will we have to hope we can work the grill out from under the house?" It was on the patio.

Re: New arrivals

[designateddadfriend]

“Stove and oven are electric, so they run fine on the generator. Though, again, if we can’t find a source of fresh water in here, we probably don’t want to dirty too many dishes.”

Re: New arrivals

[sharp_man]

"We'll manage," Hannibal said firmly. He threw dinner parties for dozens; he wasn't short on dishes. "Why don't we see if we're up to three generators now?" He started heading toward the house; the generator would be on the far side if it was there.