[OPEN] RV Park Party

[eirs]

WHO: Any and all OUTSIDER personnel that wants in and their respective campervan companions. Or maybe you wandered out away from your group and found this commune.
WHAT: The gang parking together at night to swap information about the things they've found in their investigations, night watches around a fire, ghost stories......? General tomfoolery in the desert where there's no one else for miles. Cooking their hunts in successes and mishaps?
WHERE: The Mojave Desert
WHEN: Mid to Late May
WARNINGS: Will be updated or tagged in the thread as needed!

Comments

[transmit]

[ Did he look that tired? He takes a hand to give his own cheek several slaps. Ugh. His lips purse in a temporary frown—before he just accepts his exhaustion with something of a sigh, as if her reminder had added weight to him through words alone. ]

I could. But if I did, I might miss more moments like these.

[ Sitting next to her and exchanging their thoughts, watching the people before them. Distractions that they were, people were probably the loveliest form of distractions he never minded detouring for. Distant laughter fills him, and so do their smiles—he doesn't know what they have up ahead, but there's hope in the older members taking part and looking none too weary. ]

You don't have to be out here, yet you are.

[ The same could be said for him, kicking back his feet to look towards the sky. ]

[bemist]

[ The fact that she has to point out that he looks tired means he's not bothering to hide it, but he's also an adult (citation needed) so there's no real obligation to intervene. Even the kids at the facility had made their own choices.

It does also mean that if he happens to keel over out here, she's not bringing him back to the van, but he's an adult!!

Gebura just lets her gaze sweep out over the crowd, noting positions of her colleagues. It's a lot easier like this, instead of making sure Yesod was moving steadily and practically hauling Netzach out of the club, and probably easier on them too, who aren't at the point where they aren't weirded out by her not being a ball of single-minded wrath. ]

... I don't hate this kind of thing, if I'm not forced into it.

[ Which, truly, makes all the difference. ]

[transmit]

[ But he was keeled over before this and she'd brought him along in her camper van anyway, so what's the truth here…?! Still, it's a kindness he hasn't forgotten nor will he ever forget—for a favour, he'll do his best to get back himself tonight, okay?

(Not mentioning that it should be the standard.) ]

If you're not forced into it… was that a jab, Miss Gebura?

[ He swings his head over in her direction, lips pursed as he peers directly at her. ]

All moments could very well be like this if you put it into perspective, you know!

[bemist]

If it felt like a jab, that's probably because you feel you might have warranted it.

[ And Gebura gazes back at him, just as direct. It's not accusatory, but it's not exactly a placid look she's giving him either. ]

Not everyone adjusts to things so quickly, you know. Pretty sure you're aware of that, for as flippant as you act.

[transmit]

[ That warrants a smile that reaches all the way to his eyes. ]

No, but if some convincing or a helping hand could help speed things along the way, isn't that all the better?

[ And before she has a rebuke for that: ]

To an extent.

[ An odd air of finality to it, with her warning in mind. But that would also imply he feels he hasn't crossed Gebura's personal boundaries yet… ]

[bemist]

[ To his credit, he hasn't yet. He would Most Definitely Know if he had. ]

"Speed things along", huh.

[ Gebura echoes him, a little quietly. He's got that easy charisma that both Carmen and Daniel had possessed. Like it really is that easy.

"To an extent."

She thinks of a baby blanket. ]

How long have you been fighting, Elysium?

[transmit]

If happiness is in someone's reach… they should grab onto it. While they can.

[ It's spoken with such conviction, that it can probably be surmised what manner of trouble Elysium's gotten himself into for that sake. For the most part, all's well ends well, but it's easy to imagine him brushing off the own consequences of his actions in both negative and positive ends of the spectrum.

He brings a hand to his chin and takes a beat to consider her question. ]

… Four years? Give or take a few months from that.

[ Fighting is an awfully open question, given that humanity itself has been fighting for their lives since the first catastrophe. And the way he has to think about it than retrieve it from his near-perfect memory might be evidence that there's more to it. Still, strictly considering his time with Rhodes Island which did involve battlefields proper, that's his answer. Perhaps their spar will come to mind, and how he'd danced with his sword with the ease of someone who'd been at it for longer. But he isn't going to pretend that the years leading up to that were anything but choices of his own to make. ]

I'm guessing your answer would be somewhere along the lines of your whole life.

[ The sole desire to protect what needs to be protected amongst people who have yet to understand the sanctity of life… One can only guess. But it isn't worded anything like a question, so Gebura is free to dismiss his words. ]

[bemist]

[ Gebura doesn't respond to that conviction--not verbally, at least. It's not a bad thing, to reach for your own happiness. In a sense, the residents of the City felt that on a grittier level. And that was the problem. Instant gratification without really having any dreams to work towards. And sometimes, when that happiness was gone, lost...

Well, hadn't she experienced twice over what kind of hell a grieving man could create? Still, she thinks of her colleagues, briefly. Tiphereth had hope now, more than she'd had in a very long time. She'd probably agree with the sentiment.

That she's quiet, neither agreeing nor rebuking him, probably says something, but she doesn't linger on it, instead lifting an eyebrow at his answer. She wasn't exactly privy to his training routine, but she'd fought him herself. That wasn't the result of only four years. As an operator, maybe. Or with his current organization, in an official capacity. ]

That depends on the type of fighting. I was lucky when I was younger but I knew that much wasn't enough to keep me alive. So at a certain point... seventeen years of fighting, up until my death, then technically ten more years.

[ "Technically." ]

It isn't just a matter of having a helping hand or a convincing one. You can tell me to try viewing it from a different perspective and I'd tell you that even now, the screams are louder.

[ She's gotten better, calmer. But she doubts she'll ever be the kind of person who joins in on something like this with the ease of someone like Elysium or Malkuth. ]

So I've said this before and I've said it again: You shouldn't bother with me.

[transmit]

[ It's better not to touch on what he hasn't directly experienced or isn't at least closely familiar with. Like how as a unfettered bird, his experience growing up where he did couldn't be applied to those who were in the slums. It isn't an unwillingness to listen or to learn, not anymore—but twenty-seven years of fighting, she says, like that isn't nearly the number of years he's been alive and then some. That, and her desperation to protect what's close… he's given his life for others, sure, but could he claim any emotional stake in it, other than it being mere fulfillments of his ego?

He isn't so sure. ]

You're talking as if a helping hand is a one and done, or that it's there to cover your eyes. … But that's not a helping hand. That's setting someone up for failure. You can't forget the screams, nor should you. But with every laugh and every smile, they do well in gradually balancing them out. So long as you let them.

[ There's a little discomfort in this topic, because he knows he's being a hypocrite. What do you call someone who chose not to hear the screams? Or told himself he'd never heard them? But he's doing his best to make amends on that front, and so he'll convince himself it's what matters. ]

Say. Is that a warning for me, or for you? [ His eyes flick towards her direction, and will bore into her own. ] Otherwise, why bother with a man you hardly know, supposedly wasting his time?

[bemist]

[ She wonders at that. There's no real way to balance them out, not to her. Even when her memory had been patchy, when she couldn't remember why she loathed the Abnormalities with so much fervor, she had remembered the screams.

Sometimes, being one of the last ones left standing means having witnessed far too much to be able to carefully tuck it away, at least more than she's done by keeping it to herself.

But it's also not like she doesn't understand the point he's trying to make. And it's not like she can go into further detail; she doesn't want to.

So Elysium stares at her and Gebura stares back and it probably does indeed look like a very dramatic staring contest. ]

If you have something to say, I'll hear you out. I don't consider that bothering with you. But I'm not here to have a good time and I don't have a thing to offer you.

[ So it is indeed a warning for him. ]

[transmit]

[ The dramatic staring contest comes to an end when Gebura gives him her answer. Message sent, he'll go back to relaxing in his seat. ]

So you've said. Multiple times. [ That's what he means by bothering with him, but he won't stick his heels in. ] I would think your friends would want the same for you as you'd said about them… but what do I know?

[ Push and pull. Elysium might seem like he does it in excess, but he's always come to a stop, even if he dares to push that boundary further and further, inch by inch, every time. There's something of a light sigh. ]

I'm much obliged by your answers again, Miss Gebura. Just one request: that you don't speak for me, either.

[ She doesn't have a thing to offer him, she says… he'd say otherwise, if he didn't think they've exchanged plenty for the evening already. ]

[bemist]

[ They sure have and Gebura seems to have reached the same conclusion, glancing at him briefly now before she straightens up. It's not quite going to rest, but there's no real need to linger now anyway. With a group this large, the risk of danger is diminished and she'll still be close enough to head back if she needs to.

But she seems to have recognized he's eased to a stop with her now and she's not interested in encouraging him to push at that boundary any further, giving her head a little shake to resettle her ponytail. ]

I'll remember that.

[ Which is the truth. But that seems to also be her way of ending the conversation, because with that, she's going to head off without a single word. ]