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 Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 8:55 pm
Someone had to man up, and it wasn't going to be Dawson.
It was going to be Chel, because despite how much walking and knocking on his door made her want to vomit, he deserved to know about Chris.
He deserved to know about a lot of things.
This was a place to start.
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 9:28 pm
The basement looked less hellish than before. Dawson and Horace among others had been hard at work trying to...not so much renovate as they were cleaning up. There was still a distinct sense of creepy serial killer dungeon--and it certainly didn't help #69, his neighbor, exuded a distinctly unfriendly aura, especially for one like Chel--but the walls didn't appear to have as many bloodstains as before at least.
She could hear a lively Irish jig past the thick door, which may have accounted for the extra length it took for her knocks to get answered. After that pause, the music was turned down, and something metallic tinked against the floor as he got up and accidentally kicked it on the way over.
Dawson opened the door with a, "Y'ello?" and froze when he saw her.
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 10:27 pm
Chel should've had something witty to say. Some clever line that came from teeth hiding behind a half-smirk. But all she really felt was awkward, and Chel hated feeling awkward. That resurfaced into anger, which she pushed into a jar of guilt.
"'Sup bruh? I know, I know- been a while, where you been Chel, are you avoiding me, blah blah blah-" She waved a hand and leaned against his doorframe. That was it, be relaxed. "We gotta talk, but not about-" She gave a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through her hair, tangling it all the more than it had been before. It was a strange feeling, running a hand through her hair when half of it was gone now. Fuzzy.
"It's about Chris." She swallowed what little tears were left into her stomach. He deserved that much. She repeated that to herself enough times to be armor.
For a moment it seemed she'd lost herself in her own dialogue, and then she realized she'd somewhat piled it all on Dawson at once- completely unfair for the bear frozen in terror in front of her. "Can I come in?"
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 11:18 pm
There was a lot to process even before she opened her mouth, and the spaces in between her words, the nervous energy behind her motions, and the abruptness of her presence were hard to take in at once. He stayed frozen for a moment longer, shoulders slightly hunched in apprehension, but eventually Dawson loosened up enough to move out of the way and gesture her in. "Sure thing, darlin'."
Whatever awkwardness was stuck in their craws, he still had his manners.
Ducking away to collect himself, Dawson picked up the screwdriver he had disturbed and plopped it back in the open toolbox off to the side. His room was....well, pitiful in comparison to even the basic trainee dorms, but most of the room was coated in various blankets and pillows and several furry chairs and giant beanbags, making what parts that weren't stone a patchwork quilt of color and somewhat comfort. On one of the walls were several posters (the live action Scooby Doo movie, a character pile up from Star Wars, a lion roaring) and the drawing of himself Chance had given him for Christmas.
"You want a drink?" he offered as he turned to her, an uneasy feeling in his chest. Been a while, where you been. Chel had said it, not him. Not his fault, not his words. It's about Chris. He made the effort to be polite and as rock steady as ever regardless of that weight sitting there and motioned for her to take a seat if she wanted. "Got some beer in the fridge."
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 11:27 pm
Chel sauntered past him with every ounce of courage she had stockpiled in her bones, head high like a lioness. She made her way to what she would call a bed and sat herself down on it. Chel had no problems with quality. She admired the Star Wars poster, but was in no mood to make a comment.
(Chris always liked Star Trek- "Don't tell Chris," she almost said, but she had to stop herself).
"No. M'good. Maybe in a bit." Short sentences as she caught her breath between intertwined knuckles, white as snow. "You might wanna sit down." Huffy breath- something more Chel. "'Yeah Chel, 'cause that's not ominous as ********>
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Posted: Mon Feb 02, 2015 11:43 pm
He frowned as well at the phrasing but pulled up an orange bean bag, settling down across from her with a whump. Dawson was more than mildly resentful she was building up pressure so quickly after having zero contact, but only a concerned frown showed as he clasped his hands and began to fiddle. If Chris were dead she wouldn't be this composed, but the guy hadn't been answering any of his texts either.
"Give it t'me straight, please," he said. "Where'd the dumb b*****d get shipped to?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 8:26 am
Dawson certainly wasn't making it easy with his intense leering. Actually, he probably wasn't intending to stare and make her uncomfortable, but that was just the result anyways.
"I don't know- it was somewhere in like Finland or some s**t. We- The sun team got him up to some mountain. There was a cave in; his team got out, but Chris-" There was a blank look in her eyes that allowed Dawson to fill out the rest of her thought.
Her chest was tight and she wasn't looking at Dawson; his feet were remarkably more suited for gazing at the moment. How could she look him in the eyes- she was an a*****e and now she had to tell him his best- maybe only, considering what Chel knew of Dawson- friend was probably dead.
And her cousin.
Although she felt an entire cascade of words rising out of her throat (talking would have made her feel at least a little better), she willed herself to be quiet. Dawson needed time to soak it in. This of course made her feel worse, because she knew how terrible she was being to a perfectly nice person.
("I got raised on the notion that a guy don't go foolin' 'round just cause he wants it, y-know, I-I ain't meanin' ta disrespect ya or nothing, I, uh, m'tryin' ta do the opposite here--" )
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 8:46 am
Even bracing for bad news wasn't enough. He ran a hand down from his nose to the new growths of hair at his chin, and with a long sigh through his nose, Dawson muttered, "Jesus..." His mind flashed unbidden to a movie: Steve Rogers falling into the Arctic Ocean, frozen in time.
Instinctively he wanted to hug her, but he wondered if she'd let him. The doleful look in his eyes might have been invitation enough if she'd only looked.
"When'd it happen?" he asked, foot wriggling in his boot. He was anxious to move, to get out there and rip Chris out of the ground himself. "When're they goin' back fer him?"
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 9:04 am
She empathized deeply with Dawson's wiggling feet. Every bone in her body was screaming to get Chris- she'd even formulated a way to sneak past the guards to portal herself in, but she didn't know how to set in Chris' coordinates herself, she didn't have a means to get up the mountain alone, and she had a metal bracelet wagging a finger at her from her wrist.
"An entire ******** week. I don't know when they're goin' back Dawson. They said they're regrouping but ******** if they even care enough to go back." She was mostly talking out of frustration and helplessness; she knew they were probably doing everything they could, but it felt better to blame someone.
She stood up, abruptly too uncomfortable and too vulnerable for her liking. "I don't know anything more than that. Sorry it had to come from me." That meant a lot of different things. "So yeah. Thought you deserved most to know." A step was taken towards the door.
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 9:24 am
"Yeah...Thanks, Chelsea." <******** if they care enough. It was easier to blame someone else; it gave him an out to take it into his own hands. He could....he didn't know. Do something. It didn't matter that Chel's hands were tied, maybe he could pull a group together and go marching into Finland. Lydia would--
"Lydia know yet?" Dawson asked abruptly. Inside he was sinking (thought you deserved most to know, like she started suddenly caring after all this time, just come in and out with the bad news and then make a getaway to wherever else suited her, something he both sympathized with and was irritated by), but he was trying to keep up a brave face.
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 9:39 am
Her skin crawled with her full name, somehow feeling too intimate and too unfamiliar at the same time. Just call me Chel just call me Chel-
She stopped mid-step and turned on her heel, crossing her arms. Too vulnerable. "She lives with him. She probably figured that s**t out 'cause he told her where we were goin'." Honestly Chel didn't care much about Lydia merely because they were unfamiliar. She cared about Dawson and she cared about the messy black hair and the empty eyes-
"Dawson," the word was said as warmly and as emptily as he had said Chelsea. "You look like you're holdin' s**t in. Just say it man."
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 9:48 am
He nodded absently and looked at his wrung hands. Was now honestly a good time to talk? But what if he didn't and she just walked out and...Maybe he was just being a big baby about this.
"Yeah, uh...Sorry haven't been, y'know, talkin' more n' stuff," he began self-consciously, bringing his eyes back up to Chel. "You been okay? Other n' the Chris thing."
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 9:56 am
Eyes came up to meet Chel and she nearly broke- but she wasn't so inexperienced in bad news. If Dawson looked he would find nothing but guilt; only for a moment as she turned her head to look away.
"S'been better. Went on a huge mission to China. In the mountains, fightin' ghosts woo." She waved a finger as if it was actually exciting. "More scars, more confusion- fun times." Busy wasn't really true though. She'd had plenty of time to visit Dawson- she'd been back on the island for quite some time.
Her arms stayed firmly crossed. "But with Chris- gone- I don't know man."
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 10:11 am
"Man," he whined with a faint smile, "you always on an adventure or somethin'? You gotta tell me 'bout it some time, all I get's s**t duty n' maintenance." But he felt better: she had been busy, maybe the gap wasn't as big as he thought.
Dawson got to his feet after a bit of struggle with the beanbag. "If, uh...If y'want company up there," and it was obvious he meant it platonically, "I can come with. Lord knows the basement ain't a place fer good people lookin' fer comfort."
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Posted: Tue Feb 03, 2015 1:45 pm
The gap was unfortunately bigger than he thought. Beanstalk sized, actually.
She let out a sigh that was ten years too old for a mere nineteen year old. "I'm down." Was she anymore? There were a lot of layers to her response that she wasn't prepared to analyze. "I just..."
Maybe Dawson needed the response. It gave her slight relief to affix the feeling to the idea that she was helping someone. Never for herself. "Let's go" hung on her lips until her mind walked her upstairs to her room. Not only did every inch still remind her of Chris, but there was the added fact that her keys were in Jack's room. Which meant explaining why her keys were in Jack's room.
Such a simple question was quickly leading to a meltdown.
"Can we stay here?" she asked in a painfully fragile voice. "I just walked all the way down y'know-"
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