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 Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 1:27 pm
"Mm..." He brought her hand up with his as he draped his arm around her shoulders. "Nothing so complicated," Jack replied with a one armed shrug. "For it to go smoothly. Beautiful photos. Drunk recordings of everyone for posterity. More sexy lingerie," he added with a grin. "I don't know, it's not that big of a deal to me beyond just making it official."
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 2:42 pm
Chris kicked the side of the tent closest to them, the only sign that he was still very much awake.
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 4:39 pm
"I want LOUD DRUNK SEX after where you STICK YOUR d**k IN MY v****a REPEATEDLY" It wasn't a shout but she emphasized certain words to say one ******** off, Chris.
She looked back at the tent, then more seriously at Jack. "Big enough a deal that you want an actual shindig though." She let out a long-suffering sigh, feeling her dreams of being married by a man dressed up in a costume slipping further and further into Jack's need for seriousness. Not that that hadn't been exactly what she expected to happen. "'Kay deal. I don't ... I'm 19 I don't know how to plan a wedding, but we'll figure it out. All you need's a dress and cake right?"
Plus Abbi seemed like the type who lived and breathed weddings; they'd have lots of help. But can we go to Vegas next year?" Vow renewal by Elvis?
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 4:54 pm
He glanced back at the tent with an amused look before turning back to Chel. "Maybe? I don't know anymore than you do. But we've got AK and the a** bandits, I'm sure they know something," Jack said. "We'll be fine. Honestly, I don't care where it happens as long as it goes well. Even if it is Vegas."
He stretched his arms back and popped his shoulder. "You're good for the next watch? Since obviously Chris can't sleep, I'd say put him to use."
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 4:57 pm
Chel let out a yawn and waved with a hand. "I'll be fine. I got some hours in me." Tired, exhausted ones, but she still didn't feel like sleeping. "Just leave yer bag unzipped so I don't have t'do it later."
Jack should've known rule number one was that things never went well. "Go sleep. I got the killer tigers."
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 5:18 pm
"Alright. Night, then." Pulling her in, he gave her a kiss, pat her arm, and got up. "Don't over do it, though. Get Chris to pull his weight, captain boss."
He doubted Chel would, but he said it anyway. With that, Jack ducked back into the tent, unzipped his bag, and began a restless process to actually fall asleep.
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Posted: Sun Jun 28, 2015 6:22 pm
The time went by too slowly. It was easy to get lost in the fire, but it was harder to keep her eyes open. She did it until they were watering so badly she knew she had to sleep. It was a struggle just to pull out her phone and set her alarm.
Chris was tagged out and eventually she shuffled her way onto Jack where she fell asleep rather soundly.
---
The morning was an agreed upon "eat in silence and nobody say a word we're all ******** tired ******** you" until Chel stole Chris' bacon and then it became a food war. They eventually settled, packed up begrudgingly and headed down towards the river.
It was a calm, slow moving thing. When Chel had seen it before it had been torrential, but it seemed to have calmed down since her last trip. She led them to a good-sized pool that had debris floating on the top but a clear image of the bottom.
"See that end? Down near the bottom?" she prodded, pointing to a clear part of the pool that formed a miniature cave near the bottom. There were blue, brackish crystals that clung to the walls, giving the small tunnel some light. "I sent a dummy down earlier- s'good, it's got a place to come up about 20 feet in. S'not a long swim, but I dunno what's on the other side."
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Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2015 12:49 pm
Chris tumbled out of the tent and towards the fire when his time came. He sat on the ground and leaned heavily against the log, letting his toes be warmed by the dying flames.
He'd gotten brief moments of sleep, but he'd heard enough of what Chel and Jack had said. It still made his stomach churn - even worse so knowing Chel believed he could ever just... get used to it. It was just expected that one day a switch would flip and he'd be perfectly fine with it all.
He pulled his hood up over his ears and hunkered down into his coat, effectively cocooning himself away for the night. He didn't know what else to do with himself.
---
Chris dropped their bags at the side of the pool as soon as they arrived, already rearranging and pulling out various diving gear. "It's wide enough all the way through?" he asked, side-eyeing the crystals. Stuck in a gave was bad. Stuck in a cave underwater was horrifying.
He should have questioned more when Chel asked for diving gear, honestly.
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Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2015 1:02 pm
There was a distinct aura of loathing not linked to any one thing several hours after Jack woke up. Caffeine headaches were nothing to sneeze at, especially with someone as addicted as him. He popped his pain pills in silence and ignored the cousins' food fight, leaning to avoid scraps and otherwise pretending they didn't exist until the pain lessened.
At the river, he eyes the crystals warily as he unpacked his gear as well. He didn't have Chris' phobia, but underwater caverns weren't comfortable or safe places to be in regardless. "Nothing disturbed the dummy?" he asked, only able to speculate the kinds of creatures that could live in this environment.
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Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2015 1:17 pm
"You guys are such worrywarts," she said, answering neither of their questions because quite frankly, she didn't know. She didn't know and she was just as scared as them. But she'd gone diving on the island once, and nothing could be as scary as killer mermaids so-
She pulled the standardized runic suit out of her bag, the same ones they used for runic diving under the island. She didn't give a s**t about modesty and began stripping her clothes on the shore. It was kind of exciting in a "we might die but we also might be safe" kind of way.
Suit strapped on, she gestured to Chris, pointing to a zipper on her back. "Get that, will you?" Looking back to their bags, she said, "Make sure you guys get any stuff y'wanna take now and put 'em in the bags." The same ones people stuffed runes in; waterproof cases that didn't weigh much but also couldn't be loaded up too heavily. "Torches fer sure."
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Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2015 8:34 pm
Chris was not unaware that she hadn't given an answer. He wasn't exactly sure if that meant they were safe, or if she didn't know, but he was pretty sure he was happier not knowing.
He glanced over to Jack as he pulled out his own suit. It wasn't that he was modest. It was that stripping down took at least 3 layers of protection out of the equation, and that made him uneasy. But he didn't hesitate for long enough to allow anyone to comment, just started quickly pulling off clothes. He pulled up Chel's zipper and turned, offering his own back. "Get me too."
"Pack at least an emergency ration for each of us," he said immediately, kneeling down to pull out three of the MREs. He also transferred a few of his runics and a bottle of water. He had no idea how long this would take. "Anything else we need? We should probably tie the s**t we're not taking up high. Who knows what the ******** down here that could get into it."
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2015 1:57 pm
"Just curious," he corrected her, not pushing the subject. Jack held no particular shame as he undressed, half because Chel wasn't seeing anything new, and half because he'd played basketball: there wasn't much in the way of privacy in the locker room, and modesty became time consuming.
"I can take care of that," he offered once they'd all segregated their items, spotting a place above to hide their bags for now. Water, torch, bandages, an extra flashlight, Chris had extra rations...He was glad he didn't have to worry about glasses for this one. With their bags moved off the ground and their gear equipped, he shouldered his bag and looked to Chel.
"Ready when you are."
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Posted: Wed Jul 01, 2015 9:20 pm
Chel gathered whatever the other two didn't. The final step was tying her hair back in a way that wouldn't inhibit her in the water. After a moment or two of staring at the water and bracing herself (her poor hair) she finally took a step in. It sent a shiver down her spine, but then she was shin deep, waist deep, chest deep, swimming.
The water was cold as balls and the excess number of bubbles coming out of Chel's mask as she let out a slight screech of horror showed it. The plus side to cave water was that it was remarkably clear, allowing the threesome to see anything they wanted in front of them. There were no fish, plants were restricted to algae and slimy mosses growing on the rocks, and the entire thing was deafeningly quiet.
As they approached the tunnel, Chel in the lead, the blue crystals began to glow. They lit the way, but there was something enticing, almost enchanting about them. Inviting.
It was slow going at first; Chel wasn't about to rush into anything, and they stopped a few times when shadows danced on the wall. Every time a false alarm.
The tunnel eventually split in two. They were in no fear of running out of oxygen (thankfully runic tech had weeded that out), so Chel took her time to decide. They were going to follow her lead. Seconds ticked into a full minute, and then eventually she gave the signal; split up.
Chris down to the left, Jack to the right. Chel pointed at herself then the ground to gesture that she'd wait here in case one of them decided to turn back or if they needed backup. She gave them both determined looks. This was the decision.xdarkheartedsorrow The crystals on the wall slowly begin to fade to a hazy white, a soft blueish color that feels comforting. As Chris goes down his tunnel, he feels his oxygen slipping despite that supposedly not being a problem. It's agonizing and when the dark black nothingness comes, it's almost a relief. When he awakens, everything is right. Everything is perfect. Chris sees a future where everything has arranged itself neatly, he has what he wants and he is happy. xmedigel The crystals on the wall slowly begin to fade to an ugly red, an angry hue that invokes panic. As Jack goes down his tunnel, he feels his oxygen slipping despite that supposedly not being a problem. It's agonizing and when the dark black nothingness comes, it's almost a relief. When he awakens, everything is wrong. Everything is horrible. Jack sees a future where nothing but a bleak outcome exists, he has lost everything and he is desolate.
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Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2015 2:03 pm
Chris thrashed in the water momentarily, frantically trying to warm up. It was ******** freezing and he was expected to go even further down? Unbelievable.
The tunnel was beautiful, if slightly menacing. If he'd learned anything, it was that glowing crystals meant trouble, proceed with caution. He stuck close to both of them, reaching out a hand to grab Chel's shoulder every time his saw something. Maybe he was being too paranoid, but he felt justified.
When they came to the split Chris watched Chel warily. He couldn't argue, but the displeasure was clear on his face. If they got into trouble down here there was no goddamn way for them to contact each other if they split up. It was dangerous as hell.
He was obedient though, thinking of how much he was already holding them back. He'd collapsed at the mere rumble of something big, and that clearly marked him as the weakest link on this trip. If he wanted to prove that he could do this, he had to act like he was somewhat competent.
Chris turned and head down his assigned tunnel, letting the luminescence of the crystals guide his way. They seemed to get lighter and more beautiful as he went, calming his fear of them. There was little down the tunnel but more rocks and algae, but he didn't much mind the quiet journey.
His lungs hurt a little. It took him a moment to realize that it meant something was wrong. He clearly wasn't getting enough oxygen, and his breathing became deeply painful and shallow. He started to turn around, maybe he could just get to the surface again, but the pain was increasing too fast. Breathing was a burning kind of agony and his vision went hazy. He reached for his pendant, but he was gone before he touched it.
---
He wakes up alone in a massive bed with massive mismatched quilts. Light filters weakly through tacky curtains he doesn't remember buying. There's flannels hanging in the closet, on the door, off the back of a chair in the corner, everywhere. There's just as many of his hats thrown about.
He's groggy and pleasantly sore, but it's too warm in the room to stay in bed. He's sticky with sweat, but apparently naked (why is he naked? he can't remember) so he has to battle with a couple pair of jeans. The first pair are too big (who's are they?), but the second pair he recognizes as ones he's owned for far too many years. The trashy ripped out knees are a comfort.
Immediately upon leaving the room he's assaulted by the smell of a heavy breakfast. Bacon sizzles in the distance and he follows it to the source. There's a broad, familiar back at the stove. It turns to reveal and even more familiar face, flushed and jovial.
"Sleepin' beauty finally wakes his a** up! Thanks fer puttin' on pants this time."
"Daws?" he rasps, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Dawson slings a dish towel over his shoulder and rounds the small dining table separating them. "Who'd ya think it would be? Ya got someone else in yer life?" Chris blinks in confusion, but before he can answer Dawson leans forward and pecks him on the lips, easy as can be. "I made eggs n' bacon. N' waffles," he adds, glancing to the side. Chris stands wide eyed and confused, and brings his fingers to his lips. What -
"TRAITOR!"
Chris is startled by the sound of Chel's voice and spins so fast to look at her he almost falls over into Daws. She's sitting at the breakfast bar, arm slung over the chair next to her to gently hold Abbi, who's already stealing bacon. "I want PANCAKES. How can you not make pancakes?"
"Waffles are better," he says, because he's said it a thousand, no, a million times before, and it's automatic. "Why are you guys here?" Why am I here? Where is here?
"I asked 'em to come help label wedding invites."
Chris has to sit down from the shock of that one. "You're gettin' married?" He'd known it would happen some day, but it makes his chest ache anyways.
Dawson raises a heavy brow as he lays a towering plate of food in front of Chris. "I sure as hell hope so. Unless you suddenly changed yer mind?" There's a very real thread of worry there, hidden behind the sass.
Wait.
He chokes on the eggs he'd just shoveled in his mouth. "You're marrying me?"
The kiss makes more sense, then. And somehow less at the same time. His pulse stutters in obvious excitement. He has so many questions - when, how, what happened - but they're all stuck in his throat. He's afraid if he asks, they'll tell him it was a cruel joke.
"I ********' hope so, much as he sticks his d**k in yer a**," Chel butts in, pointing her fork at Chris. "If you're suddenly thinking of chickenin' out I'll kick yer a**."
Daws sputters, flailing his arms in both Chel and Chris's directions as if he doesn't know who to go after for this embarrassing turn of events.
"No, no, I'm not chickening out. I-" he swallows thickly. "I wanna marry him." He stuffs half the ******** waffle in his mouth to stop himself from saying anything else and ducks his head like that will hide the flushed ears.
"Good," Abbi pipes up. "Because we already bought our dresses. They match. We're very cute."
"Abbi's has a thigh slit. Easy access," Chel adds with the kind of glee only the truly lewd can manage. "Wedding sex! Wedding sex!" she chants.
"What about Jack?"
Chel blinks. "Who?"
He has to set down his fork and sit back for a moment. It's all too perfect, and it doesn't make sense. He can't remember even admitting his feelings to Dawson, let alone building a quaint little life in a house with him. And Chel and Abbi? Joyfully perfect, but confusing. The pieces of the puzzle just weren't fitting together right.
Dawson sets his own plate down next to Chris and brushes back his hair to feel his forehead. "Ya feelin' okay? Yer actin' weird today."
Chris closes his eyes against the feel of Daws's hand on his skin. It's warm and comforting. Familiar in a way he desperately wants to be real. When he opens his eyes again Dawson's brows are drawn down in obvious concern that makes his heart sing because he's worried about Chris. Not just as a friend, but as more. He wants to be more.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just half asleep, I guess. Sorry." He can pretend, if it means keeping this a little longer.
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Posted: Sun Jul 05, 2015 9:45 pm
Having his senses muted made him even more paranoid as well. Jack didn't realize how much he relied on his sense of hearing until it was blotted out, until all he had left was freezing touch, narrowed vision, and the subtle pressure of enclosed space around them. Every false alarm weakened his urge to draw Owain, but it never completely went away.
The split, surprisingly, didn't agitate him at first. Chel was making decisions, and it was his job to follow: better to get the lay of the land than to just charge ahead. But he didn't trust those crystals they had seen so far, and it was vindicated; for the further he went down his tunnel, the further Jack's sense of foreboding became.
And then the lights turned red. Oxygen became harder to draw. Was he panicking? Was he honest to god panicking? ******** that. But he couldn't take a steadying breath, and he suddenly found it too hard to orient himself, and the sword flickered for a moment in his grasp before returning to its totem form. (Instinct, inability to help himself, s**t--) He couldn't hear Owain, and then, eventually, he couldn't anything whatsoever.
- - -
"Crystal clear" was an ironic phrase these days, but it had been the perfect description for the day: not a cloud in sight and the sky a deep purple, no miasma to hinder. Nothing was supposed to get through the flatlands without being spotted. The real question to him that day, like all days, had been if it was honestly worth the effort.
Today was a day of pause. Teetering. He eyed the dusty bottle of rubbing alcohol peeking from his pack and considered downing what was left just for the hell of it. Fingers twitched. He had no scars to ache ominously, but his trigger finger--the restlessness he tried to control, that so often mixed with wanderlust and survival and had the potential to become something destructive rather than protective--rubbed against his thigh. The old cliche of too quiet came to mind.
He heard distant rumbles. Thunder, maybe, he didn't feel the earth shiver or hear it crack. Today was supposed to be spotless now, though. Clear, swirling bruises above. Clear, diamond hard purple crystals below.
And then, ahead: shadows. One of Merlin's brigades scouring around again. He wondered if her face was at the head of this one or not. Always seemed to be when he was spotted--rockheads probably shifted their features just to piss him off more.
Owain's bond helped him feel the earth even when it was bloated with crystals and twisted beyond recognition. He could determine hoofbeats and footsteps, the weight to calculate armor and body structures (these days, he was lucky not to see several brute classes accompanying the hounds), a rough estimate of how many. By their mutual estimations, there was a good twenty men on the move, no brutes, all on horseback, light to medium armor. Or several had captives already, he couldn't tell from this distance.
< We should move. >
But it was just as he holstered his gun and pulled the dagger out from under the rock serving as his bed support that he heard it. Soft, with a timbre like a rusted fork dragged across wood.
Where you goin', Jackles?
He white knuckled the dagger and cursed under his breath. Of course they were using her this time. ******** bastards.
Just a husk, just a husk, he had to remind himself. Memories taken and reflected back at him, distorted like so many reflections in the crystals he passed. She wasn't here anymore. None of them were here anymore. But it didn't make the festering wound hurt any less when touched.
The rumbling was growing louder. Jack was hidden from them for now, but he wouldn't be if they took the time to get off their mounts and search.
< Dear one. >
The giant did his best to blot out the mental intrusions, but it was a day of pause, of teetering. Today he had to wonder once again--was there a point to continuing to exist? Not living, but surviving? Like hell would he let himself get captured, but what was left for him now? Himself? He might as well have been one of the crystal soldiers himself, moving from place to place, scavenging and rarely ever speaking to other survivors, barely recognizing the passage of time. There was nothing left; he had been reduced to an animal a long time ago, and those didn't have souls to salvage.
He eyed the dagger, and the noise grew louder and louder and louder.
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