fh_dungeon | Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Saturday

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day 5

Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Saturday

And then the pathways slammed shut.

Oh, not all of them. Most of them simply rearranged themselves. But whatever had connected each camp to another had been violently stripped away. They were alone now, and they were easy prey. At least the winds had settled down...

The maze had grown more erratic, however. Instead of speeding up time for all, it was now slowing it down at random in different places. Anyone caught in a sudden bubble of it would find themselves slowing down compared to the rest of the world. Awkward.

[ camp one | camp two | camp three | ooc | note: feel free to mod knowledge of sholeh's gremlin key, dean's unicorn key, and the vault. ]

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The hopelessness of it all - or rather, his inability to act - was driving Peter nuts, sure. But he was more resilient than to let something wear him down this quickly.

This would be the first time he genuinely realized that.

"We will," he agreed. "Now that we know what we're looking for, we should be making good time. And hunting down supplies is a dangerous pain in the ass, sure, but it could be worse - there could be none to find."

Natalie figured she would have been doing better had her plans for this week not consisted of sleeping through most of it to make up for the previous week's drama.

Oh, well. She'd just sleep for two weeks once they were out of here.

"Mm hmm." Mild agreement, but agreement all the same. "Guess I'm going out again today."

"You should find someone to watch your back," Peter said, his eyes darting briefly back towards where her shirt covered her stomach.

"You haven't even seen my back."

Yeah, her humour had... gotten a little darker for today. And yes, she definitely had some more bruises and small cuts on her back.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I can take care of myself, Peter." Well, she hoped she could.

"It has nothing to do with what you are or aren't capable of," Peter said matter-of-factly. His eyes flicked back up to her face. "It's safety in numbers."

"Fine. I'll try." She hoped that sounded convincing. She looked down at her empty hands. Breakfast was done. Disappointing. "Can't decide whether to thank you for your concern or just for your general intelligent assessment of the situation."

"Concern and intelligent assessment is all I have to offer right now," Peter said dryly. "I'd better apply them where they're best served."

"You can also be a gentleman," Natalie replied, moving to stand up, scooping up her fresh(er) clothes again, "and hold up a bag or something while I change."

Truth be told she didn't really care who saw what right now, but she figured there was comfort to be had in doing things like they mattered the same way as usual.

"Yes ma'am," Peter said, with only a little snark, honest.

He got up and grabbed the bag he'd been sleeping on, holding it up to shield the alcove from the rest of the camp.

"Thank you, kind sir."

That was all snark, but a little on the lifeless side for that.

She only winced a little bit while pulling her tattered shirt off. Some of those wounds weren't pleased with her raising her arms above her head, apparently.

Peter ignored the wincing - not because he was happy about it, but because worrying about it would be a pointless waste of energy and Natalie would probably be the first to point that out.

He just kept holding up the bag, waiting.

Natalie ignored the wincing too. And she ignored it again when she was pulling the new shirt on. It was a little long on her but that didn't matter. When she changed pants, she stuck the hem of shirt under the waist of the new ones.

And then she was done. And with her old pajamas bunched up under one arm, she closed her eyes and pressed her hands to her face and took two, three seconds to herself to pretend that she was hidden and that with him between her and the rest of this place she wasn't really here.

But she could smell the dirt on her hands and she knew that she was here, and no amount of private breakdowns could change that. Only doing something would. So she dropped her hands and squared her shoulders. "Thanks."

Peter shrugged idly, lowering the bag. "Let me know if you need me to do that again," he said, tossing the bag aside.

"If we're stuck here long enough for me to need another change of clothes, I'm going to ––"

She paused.

"Actually, I don't even want to finish that sentence."

"We'll live, but don't knock the clothing changes," Peter said, tilting his head at her. "Having come this far, I don't really want to chance death by Natalie Adams' BO."

"Ha ha, Peter."

Yeah, amusing her didn't come so easy today.

Sadly, Peter had the comforting instincts of a brick - at least at this stage of his life - and so it was the best he had.

He shrugged again.

Natalie almost shrugged back at him, but that was – nothing useful, so she didn't. So she just hesitated for a moment.

Then she silently held out a hand towards him, palm up.

Peter eyed the hand in confusion for a couple of seconds. What did she--?

Okay, then. He reached out and took it.

Natalie was getting what she needed. Well, a tiny scrap of it, at least. Probably wouldn't have allowed herself any more, anyway.

She looked at their hands as hers curled around his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"You know, I'm not going to ask," Peter decided. And-- okay, to say he didn't understand it would be a lie, actually, as much as people would love to believe it. It didn't come naturally, not the way that playing with fear and insecurity did, but that was something else.

He returned her squeeze with a slightly firmer one of his own. He didn't let go.

"There's nothing to ask about," Natalie replied quietly, glancing up at his face then down again, brushing her thumb against his hand. "It is what it is."

Valentine would have been great at handling this situation, Peter thought, and then immediately berated himself. Valentine wasn't here, and under the circumstances, he'd been handling himself well enough.

That'd be reassuring next time Bean decided to fire insults his way.

"Okay," he said. Pictured himself reaching out and patting her on the shoulder like one of those stupidly awkward guys in the bad comedy films his father used to watch.

Yeah, no. She seemed to know what she needed, anyway.

Natalie didn't much care for Valentine, anyway.

She covered his hand with her other one, too – and there was something that she didn't do, there, although the thought crossed her mind. There were boundaries and the question of what was sensible. This was enough.

With another little squeeze, she released his hand.

And Peter was forever going to be half-flabbergasted, half-grateful that there seemed to be at least one person in the multiverse who liked him better than they did his siblings.

He gave her a little nod and stuck his hands in his pockets. "You can hold it together," he said. "And we're not out of hope."

Re: Camp Two - Alcoves

whenshewasnice - 2013-04-13 16:39 (UTC) - Expand

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