fh_dungeon | Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Friday

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day 4

Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Friday

A strong wind tore through the hallways. Inside the camps, it was only audible: no breeze flicked into the large chambers themselves. Outside them, though, torches would flicker on and off on their own whim, exposing the dungeon's residents to errant grues.

There was something to be celebrated, though: when the maze shifted overnight, its paths crossed and connected all three camps. Time for a reunion.

[ camp one | camp two | camp three | ooc as of yesterday, everyone in camp 1 is free to assume they know about the first key and the vault. ]

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"I don't suppose you could find a working mobile phone," Peter said, which was about 75% snark and 25% futile hope.

Natalie gave him about a quarter of a smile that did not even attempt reaching her eyes. "Doubtful. Unless there's a door that opens up to a high tech world where robots attempt to maim me."

"In that case, I could do with a new shirt if you happen to find one along the way," Peter said. "This one is getting smelly."

Well, he'd been wearing this suit for several days now...

"Well, this may be the one time in your life where no one around you will care about that." Because they all smelled. She never wanted to see these pajamas again, but she was yet to manage to replace them.

Part of it was about the comfort of having your own clothes, smelly or not. "But I'll see what I can do. And allow me to add I'm not even remotely surprised you managed to arrive here in a suit."

"I fell asleep at my desk," Peter admitted. Which was, yes, completely predictable. "For some reason, I'm okay with that right now."

"Yeah, I would be too." Because pajamas. "But at least it wasn't the middle of summer."

Which translated to 'at least I was wearing something', yes.

"Yes, with your figure, a bag wouldn't be very flattering," Peter said, very seriously.

Natalie rolled her eyes, but at least she looked faintly amused.

"Yeah, baggy pajamas are definitely an improvement on that front."

"It's 5-year-old chic," Peter said sagely. He didn't like being out of control; amusing Natalie seemed to be the only kind he could really exert in here.

Edited 2013-04-12 17:14 (UTC)

It was much appreciated, under the circumstances. Humour was as close as she was going to get to the kind of comfort she needed.

She looked down at herself. "5-year-old spliced with insane bowler."

Because the horrible shoes were still there.

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you were planning to use that outfit to psych people out at a bowling competition," Peter mused. "Wouldn't that be a sight?"

"It'd be terrifying," she decided. "Of course, I could probably psych people out without an outfit, but this was an 'if I didn't know you better' scenario."

"It would be number thirteen on the list of 'terrifying things Natalie V. Adams could do if she ever felt it was necessary to put her mind to it'," Peter said merrily.

Natalie snorted. "Thirteen? I would've expected it to be lower than that. Unless this ranking is based on something other than the amount of terror involved."

"I think you can be a lot more terrifying than that," Peter said. "I mean, now that I've seen what you're like in the morning..."

Exactly like normal-grade Natalie.

"What are you trying to imply, Peter?"

Exactly nothing, and she knew it. Hence the slightly exaggerated eyebrow raise.

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Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Friday

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