Welcome to Gaia! ::

Outside, there was sudden yelp and a clamor of metal against stone and a splash followed by a painful sounding 'whump'. The little creature had come out of no where, and Jerry had lost his feet as it had darted under them, kettle in tow.

With a groan, he glanced to the open door where the only somewhat-familiar trainee hovered, rubbing his back as he tried to gather himself and his fallen cleaning supplies up. "Er... looks like um... oh, heck if I know. Did it escape the labs?" He managed, wobbling as he gathered the mop up under his arm.

He was soaked, but at least it was just soapy water. "Um. Is the water on, do you know?"

A new trainee? He could have sworn he had seen him before, but not at any lectures or meetings or missions he could remember...

"Well, yeah... there isn't enough Fear around for them to survive for long outside of the containment. Those little halloween creatures kind of just... melt after a while, if I remember correctly. It'll be dead soon," Jerry wove a hand dismissively as he leaned his mop onto his shoulder before flushing heatedly. "I'm not a druggie!" He hissed, "That was... just... part of the horsemen's illusion!" With a huff, he turned to storm away, "I'm working on the school if you want to help." If the water was running in the house, it hopefully would be working in the school building. He'd refill his bucket then, at least it wouldn't be as heavy.

The fact Jerry was looking even scruffier than he had on 'set' did not help matters. He had at least borrowed a hair tie from Sasha's things to pull his hair back in a short, rather silly little pony tail that couldn't even really be called such at the back of his neck.

Marcus was always busy barking orders to the newbies. Now he was starting to see why. "Do you understand what these stripes on my coat mean?" He huffed, bucket rattling as he poked at his collar pointedly.

Wash, broom in hand, was sweeping some of the dust and rubble out the schoolhouse door when he heard the murmur of conversation wafting over. He straightened, one hand on his back as he stretched out a knot or two. Wiping his brow, he peered into the distance. There! A scruffy looking Jerry with a tagalong he didn't recognize. He leaned the broom against the doorframe and waved.

The words 'clean your coat' and 'shave' drifted over, and he frowned a bit. His own coat was dusty from working, and was tied around his waist, baring an old black t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. It was hot and unpleasant, working in the damaged buildings, and he wasn't silly enough to try it in a brand new outfit.

Still, Jerry could use a shave.

"Hey," he rumbled, and paused, realizing the last time Jerry had seen him had been in the cells. He glanced away awkwardly, clearing his throat.

"That is, you folk come ta help? It's not too bad, in here. I little hot for them coats though."

Melvin looked on ahead where the other man was sweeping, and offered a wave, warning him that yes, he was someone else with his friend and he was approaching. The other man, however, rushed on ahead to cling to the other, almost whining to him as if Melvin had been abusing him for the few short minutes they were together.

Frowning, he made his way at his own pace till he met the other. "Sorry, but when I see someone sniff cocaine, I can't help but think that." He said, adding some evidence to his reasoning to this other man who just happened to be pulled into the conversation without any context.

"It is a nice day, though I agree it's even a bit warm for me." Melvin was usually a very cold person, and tended to get along fine in sweaters and long-sleeve shirts regardless if it was summer. However, this was a different type of hot. It was stick and humid. For once, even he didn't want to wear a sweater. "Is it always this muggy here? Might have to take off my sweater and coat before I start. Wearing a coat isn't mandatory to wear at all times when we do this sort of work, right?" Melvin didn't know the regulations for what they could get away with regarding their uniforms.

"It was part of the Horseman's illusion," Jerry muttered irritably to the newby, "You get used to that sort of madness." He busied himself with shrugging off his own coat to find a place to hang it. "It was all pretty-" He hesitated, brows furrowing. Wash hadn't been there. Well, he had, but it hadn't been him- the man had been captured long before that.

Jerry's face paled. "How... how are you holding up?" He seemed in slightly better spirits than Sasha had been in, at least.

Bathroom? What? It was all a little much for Wash to follow, so he just offered the two of them an uncertain grin. Surely this was some kind of joke he just wasn't getting. He was relieved when the man accepted his handshake - odd fellow, but polite.

"I, well." How was he feeling? Tired, abused, and a little disheartened. The shiny newness of his role here had worn off, and he was beginning to see the darkness peeking in around the edges of their 'pristine' cause.

"I'll be alright." He gestured to their surroundings. "Working keeps the mind busy, you know. How's, uh." He bit his lip. "How's Sasha holdin' up?" He'd mostly let her be- not exactly avoiding her, but not seeking her company either. It was part guilt, and partially because he didn't know her well enough to offer her the kind of comfort she needed. He had no words to soothe her soul- didn't know what she'd seen, didn't know what had broken and needed fixing. Couldn't help any of them, really. His own fault, for not getting to know them better. So he worked instead, worked until he was too tired to continue, and the sun had long since set. The fire in his muscles kept the demons at bay.

To Melvin, he replied, "No sir, I don't believe so, unless Gale counts, ha. It's just us- must have been from some kind o' habitation before."