Who: Abby, Lev, Clarisse and Bella (plus others? perhaps guests) What: Settling in! Catch-all for house shenanigans When: Month of September Where: At the team's joint abode, located in Ache
(the new place is nice. it's smaller than what they had before but neater, less already lived-in, and needing repair. abby's room is downstairs this time instead of upstairs. she chose one up the back of the house where the sun lingers in the afternoon and she's already stolen a small bookshelf out of the living room and co-opted it for the books she brought along from the deerington library. it means there aren't books spread throughout the house... so everybody else should be thanking her, actually.
there isn't a lot of stuff that she has to unpack. her dad's photo goes beside her bed, and her clothes go in the dresser, and after that abby's done.
lev might need help, or want company. she pokes her head into his room minutes later, hovering on the threshold with her head through the doorframe.)
Knock knock. (but not actually knocking,) Can I come in?
[ Is her amnesia a joke to you?! But Clarisse is just rolling her eyes, not summoning more dead soldiers to harrass her, so let's call it a win. Besides, she's too busy being relieved that little bits of memory are returning, even if they are patchwork. ]
(you know, once she's... decided to stop entertaining the whole what if my closest friend never remembers who i am thing. wow, don't think about it don't think about it)
Hmm... how about those months we were stuck working out at home because the gym went to shit, and I won an arm wrestling match one day and you cried about it.
[ The tips of Clarisse's ears go red at the sheer audacity of this girl. She does remember being depressed about the gym collapsing, which makes the rest of Abby's story possible, but... no. No. She would never lose at arm wrestling. Or cry about it if she did, which she wouldn't. ]
(she'd keep teasing clarisse under literally any other circumstances but like this it feels mean, like she's got a leg up. two legs. abby's long since stopped laughing, but her eyes are still bright.)
Yeah, okay. The gym part was true, the rest wasn't. I can't win against you in arm wrestling, you're too good.
(it's a novelty, actually, having other people beat her at it. so she doesn't much care.)
[ Clarisse gives her a slightly suspicious look, waiting for Abby to follow up with another jab, but she doesn't. The compliment mollifies her... somewhat. ]
You're an idiot to wrestle a child of Ares. [ Arm wrestling or otherwise!!! ]
[ Clarisse looks down at her arm for a couple seconds before punching Abby back. It... seems like the thing to do? She's distracted, though, trying to remember "the house". She thinks she can. Maybe. She has a vague memory of being on some couch in the middle of the night, lights on, arguing with people. Sounds like her. Also the yard, covered in mist, with a tree out back. ]
I... Nico. [ She sounds a little hesitant, but Nico is at least somewhat familiar, and once she says his name out loud it's almost a relief. Nico is weird, but useful. He was going to show her how to do... something important. ] Is he here?
(the punch in return is a happy surprise. it's reassuringly normal, even though clarisse is making an expression that indicates she has no idea why she just did it. oh yeah, she's in there alright. abby feels hopeful in general, or at least she does until she's asked that question.
sucks to have to give bad news.) He was there.
He left, after Lev died. (and never came back, he just... disappeared. abby still feels strange about it, like she could have helped if she'd only thought to reach out to him in time.)
[ There's a strange expression on Clarisse's face. She's not sure why hearing that Nico is gone is making her feel this way—annoyed and guilty and a little bit regretful, too. ]
He was going to show me how to summon the dead. To talk to them. [ Not dead soldiers, it's pretty clear by her tone. She and Nico were evidently up to some secret bullshit before he disappeared. ]
... anybody who died? the thought makes abby shiver, torn between being longing and unease.)
Huh. (maybe it's a good thing he never did show her. abby thinks she would be tempted to ask her to use that power if she had it.) I didn't know you could learn how to do something like that.
I don't know. He said anybody could, but we never got to try it.
[ Anyway, it probably would have ended up a useless project. It's not like they could have brought back anyone who actually mattered to either of them. It would have been Clarisse trying to summon some old ghost from the Deerington cemetery while Nico judged her technique. ]
[ It's late. Three in the morning, four? The house is dark, quiet aside from the wind outside and the odd creaking as a board settles.
A door clicks open and Clarisse walks into the room, in her usual PJs—a t-shirt, basketball shorts. Tonight she also has on a pair of white socks, because Bella's feet make hers feel cold sometimes, and she's problem solving, okay. Anyway, she crosses the room and leans over the person sleeping in the bed, then places a hand on their shoulder in a way that's surprisingly gentle, given the person who's doing it. ]
(abby comes alert with a violent start and a sharp pull of breath.
everything had just been starting to curdle. for a second abby's still in it, wild-eyed and breathing fast and shallow, not seeing her, caught up in the dregs before she finally shakes herself lucid. her expression crumbles in relief when she realises who woke her up.
just a nightmare. abby reaches out to touch, her fingertips skittering clarisse's arm as if asking silent permission to grab her shoulder next, reassuring herself that she's there, and whole, and before she can completely catch herself her palm lifts and touches to the edge of clarisse's jaw, framing her face on one side.
her arm drops afterward, just as suddenly.)
... Thanks. (her voice is low and rough, and she wipes her eyes with a sniff.) You've got good timing.
[ Not that Abby was making noise in her sleep, at least not enough to wake Clarisse on the floor above her. She woke up on her own, sweaty and terrified for no good reason, and had left her bed only to make the feeling stop so she could go back to sleep. She's tired and trying not to feel sympathy for Abby, and it's only half working. ]
You good? [ she asks after just a few seconds too long have ticked by. It's stilted and awkward sounding, and Clarisse's arms cross over her chest, not in direct response to Abby touching her but as a sort of afterthought. Then again, it can get chilly in the house at night, with all the rain this month. ]
... Right. (her powers. did she see what abby was dreaming about? she really hopes not but she feels horribly awkward to think that she might have. there's a very long pause before she can think to say anything else, in which clarisse sits straight-backed on the edge of her bed and the both of them don't look at each other, and it feels so, so awful.
at least she's alive. abby would take this strangeness between them a thousand times over clarisse's lifeless body, broken and bloody, stretched out across the floor of her father's surgery.)
I'm good.
(nothing about this is good, but clarisse looks so tired and uncomfortable, and abby feels bad for having woken her up. she smiles, a brief flicker, an empty gesture.) Thanks C.
[ Clarisse swallows a yawn and slouches forward a bit, unwilling to stand up and leave just yet. It feels bad—mean, to wake Abby up and then walk out right after, like Clarisse doesn't even care. She cares too much, is the problem. She wishes she cared less, and that her feelings weren't so hurt over something that Abby probably doesn't even know she did, and that she could shut them off the way she used to do at home, just go numb all over and not have to feel anything at all.
How is she the same person who'd get screamed at by a literal god and then just go on with her day as if nothing had happened? Or who watched the best person in her life die and then went back to camp and threw people in the lake and laughed and acted like everything was fine? What happened to her, what changed?
Unhappiness is rolling off her like a wave, and she tries to turn it off before it can get to Abby, she tries, but she has no idea whether it works at all. She hates it here, she hates her powers, she hates this.
Finally, just to have something else to say before she fucks off back to her own room where she can be depressed in peace (maybe), ] What were you dreaming about? I have these fucked up nightmares sometimes where I'm trapped underground.
(there's more to the silence than simple unease. abby can feel it coming, a bit at first and then all at once, like grabbing a live wire. she gets a jolt of sadness and confusion that makes her breathe funny for a moment, choked up, like she's trying not to cry. her lip wobbles.
she hunches up her legs where she's sitting up in bed and it passes, leaving her watching clarisse from the safety of her arms, folded protectively across her knees.)
My usual, (she replies, once she's sure she can speak without the words sticking in her throat.) It's... this reoccurring thing, about my dad.
(not... a lie, per say, just a half-truth. she doesn't want to freak clarisse out with the full story, is what she tells herself, not when she's already acting strange. abby presses her mouth against her arms, uncharacteristically unsure of herself, watching clarisse as she slouches forward and doesn't quite return her gaze.)
[ Right. Abby's dad. Clarisse doesn't know what happened to him, either, only that he died. She has no idea what it's like to mourn a parent, at least not in that way. The only thing she's ever mourned about her own father is the idea of him, and her mom... She has a single memory of that first night in the Ares cabin, being ten and lying in a bed that felt unfamiliar and strange, and crying into her pillow because it had suddenly occurred to her that she might never see her mom again—but then one of the older boys had heard it and told her to shut up or he'd make her, so she had.
Her shoulders tense, and she doesn't let herself look up. She should've just let Abby have her nightmare and pretended not to notice. ] Why wouldn't I be? Shouldn't I be asking you that?
'Cuz I woke you up in the middle of the night with it?
(it can't be any fun to experience, is what she's getting at. dealing with her own bullshit is something she's used to, but now she's forcing clarisse to deal with it too and that isn't fair.
and clarisse seems angry about it. abby doesn't really understand why she would be, but maybe she's scared. maybe she just saw her own dead body in abby's nightmare and that rightfully freaked her the fuck out; she reaches out to where clarisse's hand is on the sheets, propping herself up, and she touches the backs of her knuckles gently, almost apologetically.)
It's not a contest, you know. It's okay if you're not okay, it doesn't take away from my shit.
[ She can't control whose feelings are going to hit her without warning like a punch to the chest, or when, but Clarisse assumes this is going to be happening pretty frequently now. The middle of the night, everybody asleep, and Clarisse's stupid blood is going to laser focus on the strongest feeling it can, aka whoever is having the shittiest dream.
... Okay, (abby mumbles, unable to help feeling hurt as she retracts her hand again. why is she so mad? clarisse isn't the only person who wishes she wouldn't have nightmares, they aren't fun for her either.
at this rate, having abby in the house with her at night is going to become unbearable, huh. cool. that feels great.)
I'm– going to get up, (she adds, expression shuttering as she turns away, pushing the covers back.) Don't think I can get back to sleep. Won't happen again.
[ Clarisse finally raises her head and looks at Abby, taking in the hurt, bewildered expression on her face. Abby doesn't know what's wrong, and Clarisse hasn't told her. This would be the perfect opportunity to talk to her. Maybe they could go for a walk or something. Clarisse has been doing it often enough, when she feels too restless and the moon won't let her sleep.
For a couple seconds she's tempted to ask, and to let that weight slip off her shoulders and simply move forward from it, but she lets the silence drag on for too long, and then the moment passes. No matter how much she wants to, she can't be the person who backs down first. It eats at her, the shame of knowing that, but she'll let herself get eaten alive before she gives in. She's always been this way, exactly like the stupid scorpion who stings the frog and dooms itself to drowning, and the whole time she's watching herself do it. ]
Right, [ she mutters, standing up from the bed and moving toward the door. She pauses before crossing the threshold, one hand resting on the doorframe, not sure how to end this. ] See you later, [ is what she settles on, quiet, before walking away. ]
(getting used to sharing a house with people who are struggling with brand new powers is slow going. bella runs cold seemingly all the time, and moonlights as a microwave; clarisse dream-walks against her will and flings her emotions all over the place. lev is unchanged? reportedly, nothing weird has happened to him at all. abby is keeping a close eye as she deals with her own issue: the odd scent and colour of her blood, exposed briefly when she cuts her finger chopping carrots, or worries a hangnail a little too much.
that seems to be it though. sure, it sizzles away in her veins every so often, starts to numb her out, but it just feels like... pins and needles, really. she isn't too concerned.
in abby's opinion, the omens are weirder.
as is the position that bella finds the both of them in when she returns home that evening: abby on the floor with her omen's shaggy white wolf head in a headlock underneath of her armpit, the both of them straining, abby trying to pry her jaws open with her other hand.)
[Being pale white and ice cold all the time had absolutely taken some getting used to, but Bella doesn't miss having to layer up a million sweaters every time she goes out. She's gotten a few papercuts and...yeah, the blue blood is weird, but she's trying not to think about it.
The omens were...easier for her. Her own, a big, horned, fanged black sheep named Mephistopheles, is shockingly helpful. Like now, when he nudges the door open, holding a bag of groceries in his mouth, and only pauses a moment to sniff disdainfully at Abby wrestling on the floor, before trotting to the kitchen.
Bella is slightly more helpful. Slightly.] ...what, uh. What are you guys doing?
(wow it must be so nice to have an omen that is helpful.
that's a lie. medea is helpful, but seemingly only when she wants to be and those moments have been few and far between. she's also supposed to be intelligent, so why is abby down on the floor with her, having to pry her jaws open from around a packet of jerky... she gets why she would want it but it's still in the plastic–)
Seriously, you can– fucking have some! Let me unwrap it first!!
(she flings an exasperated look at bella, and the omen uses that moment of distraction to thrash particularly hard, whacking abby hard in the head with her tail.)
[Bella lets out a startled snort of laughter, which is at least more stifled than Mephistopheles, who baa's in amusement all the way to the kitchen. She steps forward, a little awkwardly, because Medea is...really big and toothy.]
Do you, uh. Need...help? [Yes, because stick bug Swan here is gonna help.]
(she's finally managed to pry medea's jaws open, but she doesn't have a third hand available and so:) Can you grab it? She won't bite you, promise.
(the both of them are dickheads, but not that much. besides, abby's very certain they'd get immediately bodied by mephistopheles if either of them were to try it.)
[Bella gives Medea's super sharp and pointy teeth a dubious look, but she'll hurry over and crouch down to verrrryyy carefully peel the slobbery jerky package out of the pried-open jaws.]
Are you...sure you still want this? [And yes, Mephistopheles is looming in the doorway with a bag of bell peppers in his mouth, glowering judgementally.]
Yes– (abby breathes, and immediately lets go of medea once the prize has been retrieved. the hellhound yanks free with a wounded snarl, embarrassed, and skitters away across the hardwood, watching bella through reproachful eyes.)
Thanks. (she's panting slightly as she gets up, brushing her pants off. bella is holding the package by thumb and forefinger, but abby doesn't take it from her right away. medea is lurking in the background, watching.)
Yeah, I still want it. She's part of me, right. It's just spit. (anyway. a quick one-two: the package, retrieved and yanked open, and half distributed to the sulking omen in the corner.) Happy??
[Bella holds her hands up in defensive apology towards Medea, wincing.] Sorry, sorry, but Abby's right. If you swallow all that plastic it...definitely won't agree with you. [Unless Omens don't really have digestive systems?? Bella isn't totally positive on the rules of all that.
The jerky treaty achieved, Mephistopheles deigns to reappear, trotting lightly across the floor and giving Medea a disdainful sniff. He has an apple in his mouth, and he settles down beside Bella, delicately holding it between his hooves and nibbling at it.]
Where'd you even get a package of jerky, anyways? [And what...meat is it made out of?]
It shouldn't take somebody else saying it for you to actually believe it.
(but medea's eating and therefore mollified, so. whatever. abby rolls her eyes and takes a stick for herself, offering the spitty package out to bella customarily. she's ignoring the very polite and dainty way that bella's sheep settles next to her and grazes at his own treat.)
It's from Deerington, (she advises, chewing away. abby is neither polite, nor dainty,) just found it in the bottom of my pack.
(she always has food. it's important to have something on you at all times, just in case.)
Huh. [Granted, Bella is extremely...not outdoorsy. At all. She is very much an indoor girl.] That...yeah, I could see him knowing how to do all that. Probably super useful to know, especially with us...jumping dimensions and all that.
Don't tell him, it'll make his head even bigger. But I seriously would have been fucked a couple times if he hadn't been around. He's so good at foraging.
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armd) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2021-09-16 09:00 pm
for lev
there isn't a lot of stuff that she has to unpack. her dad's photo goes beside her bed, and her clothes go in the dresser, and after that abby's done.
lev might need help, or want company. she pokes her head into his room minutes later, hovering on the threshold with her head through the doorframe.)
Knock knock. (but not actually knocking,) Can I come in?
for clarisse (overflow for the overflow)
(it doesn't help that she can guess fairly accurately at what clarisse is picturing. abby's trying not to laugh at her, honest.
the laugh happens anyway, because hearing that nickname is really relieving, it lifts a lot of weight off her shoulders.) That's me.
You do remember. Maybe it just takes time.
no subject
[ Is her amnesia a joke to you?! But Clarisse is just rolling her eyes, not summoning more dead soldiers to harrass her, so let's call it a win. Besides, she's too busy being relieved that little bits of memory are returning, even if they are patchwork. ]
Tell me something else. Maybe I'll remember it.
no subject
(you know, once she's... decided to stop entertaining the whole what if my closest friend never remembers who i am thing. wow, don't think about it don't think about it)
Hmm... how about those months we were stuck working out at home because the gym went to shit, and I won an arm wrestling match one day and you cried about it.
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Bullshit!
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Yeah, okay. The gym part was true, the rest wasn't. I can't win against you in arm wrestling, you're too good.
(it's a novelty, actually, having other people beat her at it. so she doesn't much care.)
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You're an idiot to wrestle a child of Ares. [ Arm wrestling or otherwise!!! ]
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(and she gives her a punch on the arm.) D'you remember anybody else from the house?
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I... Nico. [ She sounds a little hesitant, but Nico is at least somewhat familiar, and once she says his name out loud it's almost a relief. Nico is weird, but useful. He was going to show her how to do... something important. ] Is he here?
no subject
sucks to have to give bad news.) He was there.
He left, after Lev died. (and never came back, he just... disappeared. abby still feels strange about it, like she could have helped if she'd only thought to reach out to him in time.)
no subject
[ There's a strange expression on Clarisse's face. She's not sure why hearing that Nico is gone is making her feel this way—annoyed and guilty and a little bit regretful, too. ]
He was going to show me how to summon the dead. To talk to them. [ Not dead soldiers, it's pretty clear by her tone. She and Nico were evidently up to some secret bullshit before he disappeared. ]
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... anybody who died? the thought makes abby shiver, torn between being longing and unease.)
Huh. (maybe it's a good thing he never did show her. abby thinks she would be tempted to ask her to use that power if she had it.) I didn't know you could learn how to do something like that.
no subject
[ Anyway, it probably would have ended up a useless project. It's not like they could have brought back anyone who actually mattered to either of them. It would have been Clarisse trying to summon some old ghost from the Deerington cemetery while Nico judged her technique. ]
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You're kind of the most determined person I know.
ota
A door clicks open and Clarisse walks into the room, in her usual PJs—a t-shirt, basketball shorts. Tonight she also has on a pair of white socks, because Bella's feet make hers feel cold sometimes, and she's problem solving, okay. Anyway, she crosses the room and leans over the person sleeping in the bed, then places a hand on their shoulder in a way that's surprisingly gentle, given the person who's doing it. ]
Wake up. You're having a nightmare.
no subject
everything had just been starting to curdle. for a second abby's still in it, wild-eyed and breathing fast and shallow, not seeing her, caught up in the dregs before she finally shakes herself lucid. her expression crumbles in relief when she realises who woke her up.
just a nightmare. abby reaches out to touch, her fingertips skittering clarisse's arm as if asking silent permission to grab her shoulder next, reassuring herself that she's there, and whole, and before she can completely catch herself her palm lifts and touches to the edge of clarisse's jaw, framing her face on one side.
her arm drops afterward, just as suddenly.)
... Thanks. (her voice is low and rough, and she wipes her eyes with a sniff.) You've got good timing.
no subject
[ Not that Abby was making noise in her sleep, at least not enough to wake Clarisse on the floor above her. She woke up on her own, sweaty and terrified for no good reason, and had left her bed only to make the feeling stop so she could go back to sleep. She's tired and trying not to feel sympathy for Abby, and it's only half working. ]
You good? [ she asks after just a few seconds too long have ticked by. It's stilted and awkward sounding, and Clarisse's arms cross over her chest, not in direct response to Abby touching her but as a sort of afterthought. Then again, it can get chilly in the house at night, with all the rain this month. ]
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at least she's alive. abby would take this strangeness between them a thousand times over clarisse's lifeless body, broken and bloody, stretched out across the floor of her father's surgery.)
I'm good.
(nothing about this is good, but clarisse looks so tired and uncomfortable, and abby feels bad for having woken her up. she smiles, a brief flicker, an empty gesture.) Thanks C.
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[ Clarisse swallows a yawn and slouches forward a bit, unwilling to stand up and leave just yet. It feels bad—mean, to wake Abby up and then walk out right after, like Clarisse doesn't even care. She cares too much, is the problem. She wishes she cared less, and that her feelings weren't so hurt over something that Abby probably doesn't even know she did, and that she could shut them off the way she used to do at home, just go numb all over and not have to feel anything at all.
How is she the same person who'd get screamed at by a literal god and then just go on with her day as if nothing had happened? Or who watched the best person in her life die and then went back to camp and threw people in the lake and laughed and acted like everything was fine? What happened to her, what changed?
Unhappiness is rolling off her like a wave, and she tries to turn it off before it can get to Abby, she tries, but she has no idea whether it works at all. She hates it here, she hates her powers, she hates this.
Finally, just to have something else to say before she fucks off back to her own room where she can be depressed in peace (maybe), ] What were you dreaming about? I have these fucked up nightmares sometimes where I'm trapped underground.
no subject
she hunches up her legs where she's sitting up in bed and it passes, leaving her watching clarisse from the safety of her arms, folded protectively across her knees.)
My usual, (she replies, once she's sure she can speak without the words sticking in her throat.) It's... this reoccurring thing, about my dad.
(not... a lie, per say, just a half-truth. she doesn't want to freak clarisse out with the full story, is what she tells herself, not when she's already acting strange. abby presses her mouth against her arms, uncharacteristically unsure of herself, watching clarisse as she slouches forward and doesn't quite return her gaze.)
... You okay?
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[ Right. Abby's dad. Clarisse doesn't know what happened to him, either, only that he died. She has no idea what it's like to mourn a parent, at least not in that way. The only thing she's ever mourned about her own father is the idea of him, and her mom... She has a single memory of that first night in the Ares cabin, being ten and lying in a bed that felt unfamiliar and strange, and crying into her pillow because it had suddenly occurred to her that she might never see her mom again—but then one of the older boys had heard it and told her to shut up or he'd make her, so she had.
Her shoulders tense, and she doesn't let herself look up. She should've just let Abby have her nightmare and pretended not to notice. ] Why wouldn't I be? Shouldn't I be asking you that?
no subject
(it can't be any fun to experience, is what she's getting at. dealing with her own bullshit is something she's used to, but now she's forcing clarisse to deal with it too and that isn't fair.
and clarisse seems angry about it. abby doesn't really understand why she would be, but maybe she's scared. maybe she just saw her own dead body in abby's nightmare and that rightfully freaked her the fuck out; she reaches out to where clarisse's hand is on the sheets, propping herself up, and she touches the backs of her knuckles gently, almost apologetically.)
It's not a contest, you know. It's okay if you're not okay, it doesn't take away from my shit.
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[ She can't control whose feelings are going to hit her without warning like a punch to the chest, or when, but Clarisse assumes this is going to be happening pretty frequently now. The middle of the night, everybody asleep, and Clarisse's stupid blood is going to laser focus on the strongest feeling it can, aka whoever is having the shittiest dream.
Abby touches her hand, and Clarisse goes still. ]
I'm not making this a contest, Abby.
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at this rate, having abby in the house with her at night is going to become unbearable, huh. cool. that feels great.)
I'm– going to get up, (she adds, expression shuttering as she turns away, pushing the covers back.) Don't think I can get back to sleep. Won't happen again.
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For a couple seconds she's tempted to ask, and to let that weight slip off her shoulders and simply move forward from it, but she lets the silence drag on for too long, and then the moment passes. No matter how much she wants to, she can't be the person who backs down first. It eats at her, the shame of knowing that, but she'll let herself get eaten alive before she gives in. She's always been this way, exactly like the stupid scorpion who stings the frog and dooms itself to drowning, and the whole time she's watching herself do it. ]
Right, [ she mutters, standing up from the bed and moving toward the door. She pauses before crossing the threshold, one hand resting on the doorframe, not sure how to end this. ] See you later, [ is what she settles on, quiet, before walking away. ]
for bella
that seems to be it though. sure, it sizzles away in her veins every so often, starts to numb her out, but it just feels like... pins and needles, really. she isn't too concerned.
in abby's opinion, the omens are weirder.
as is the position that bella finds the both of them in when she returns home that evening: abby on the floor with her omen's shaggy white wolf head in a headlock underneath of her armpit, the both of them straining, abby trying to pry her jaws open with her other hand.)
Drop it–
no subject
The omens were...easier for her. Her own, a big, horned, fanged black sheep named Mephistopheles, is shockingly helpful. Like now, when he nudges the door open, holding a bag of groceries in his mouth, and only pauses a moment to sniff disdainfully at Abby wrestling on the floor, before trotting to the kitchen.
Bella is slightly more helpful. Slightly.] ...what, uh. What are you guys doing?
no subject
that's a lie. medea is helpful, but seemingly only when she wants to be and those moments have been few and far between. she's also supposed to be intelligent, so why is abby down on the floor with her, having to pry her jaws open from around a packet of jerky... she gets why she would want it but it's still in the plastic–)
Seriously, you can– fucking have some! Let me unwrap it first!!
(she flings an exasperated look at bella, and the omen uses that moment of distraction to thrash particularly hard, whacking abby hard in the head with her tail.)
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Do you, uh. Need...help? [Yes, because stick bug Swan here is gonna help.]
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(she's finally managed to pry medea's jaws open, but she doesn't have a third hand available and so:) Can you grab it? She won't bite you, promise.
(the both of them are dickheads, but not that much. besides, abby's very certain they'd get immediately bodied by mephistopheles if either of them were to try it.)
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Are you...sure you still want this? [And yes, Mephistopheles is looming in the doorway with a bag of bell peppers in his mouth, glowering judgementally.]
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Thanks. (she's panting slightly as she gets up, brushing her pants off. bella is holding the package by thumb and forefinger, but abby doesn't take it from her right away. medea is lurking in the background, watching.)
Yeah, I still want it. She's part of me, right. It's just spit. (anyway. a quick one-two: the package, retrieved and yanked open, and half distributed to the sulking omen in the corner.) Happy??
no subject
The jerky treaty achieved, Mephistopheles deigns to reappear, trotting lightly across the floor and giving Medea a disdainful sniff. He has an apple in his mouth, and he settles down beside Bella, delicately holding it between his hooves and nibbling at it.]
Where'd you even get a package of jerky, anyways? [And what...meat is it made out of?]
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(but medea's eating and therefore mollified, so. whatever. abby rolls her eyes and takes a stick for herself, offering the spitty package out to bella customarily. she's ignoring the very polite and dainty way that bella's sheep settles next to her and grazes at his own treat.)
It's from Deerington, (she advises, chewing away. abby is neither polite, nor dainty,) just found it in the bottom of my pack.
(she always has food. it's important to have something on you at all times, just in case.)
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Does...jerky expire? [Deerington was months ago, after all. Please don't get dysentery or something, Abby, she's not equipped to deal with that.]
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(it keeps.) Lev knows about it more than I do. His people knew all sorts of rustic shit, back where we came here from.
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Don't tell him, it'll make his head even bigger. But I seriously would have been fucked a couple times if he hadn't been around. He's so good at foraging.
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