[log] ironically sentimental and a big boring book [closed]

[mrcreamsicles]

Characters: Davesprite and Natasha
Location: House 76
Date: 195 whenever they return after the event
Summary: Catching up now that they're out of the labyrinth and oh hey presents.
Warnings: Possible discussion of the violence from Winter and Andromeda's memory, probably nothing else.

76: A standard single-story house with a kitchen, living room, dining room, bathroom, and bedroom. All of the doors inside the house have had their handles broken off. They can still be pushed open, but none of them close properly, not even the bathroom. One of the dining room chairs has been smashed, and there's a few dents in the outer coating of the wall, as if a dining room chair had been smashed into it. These may be connected.

Comments

[mrcreamsicles]

[Oh, god. Not this track.]

It bothered me because I couldn't go two goddamn minutes without that fucker showing up to haa haa, hee hee, hoo hoo at me on a loop like Satan's own personal laugh track, not helped by the fact I was hopping around a sweat factory of a planet. Land of Heat and Clockwork, Nat. Everything was I-beams and ticking gears suspended above a giant fucking lava sea the whole planet wide. Even if I went to the other lands, he had a way of finding me, and I was there for months on end.

[He jerks his hands at her. Just hand it over!!]

[redrooms]

[Natasha frowns at him, then crouches down in the snow to start digging a hole, setting the mask beside her as she does.]

I'm sure that was very annoying.

[She totally doesn't believe him.]

[mrcreamsicles]

... Are you doubting me?

[He's... just kind of staring now. Is she burying it, herself?]

[redrooms]

A little.

[She shoves the mask into the hole and then starts to cover it with chunks of snow and ice.]

I have no doubt that it bothered you. Enough to bury a mask, I'm not sure.

[mrcreamsicles]

Can't a guy just decide he doesn't want to carry a disturbing puppet around without it being some kind of issue?

[Mask. It's a mask. He combs his hand back through his hair.]

Thanks for burying it and all, but it's not that deep.

[redrooms]

[Natasha stands up, tamping the snow down with her boot and then turning to face him. She doesn't want to push him too much, admittedly, but she also thinks there are pieces of this that are bothering him that he isn't dealing with well.]

It's a mask, Davesprite. You wanted to bury it.

[mrcreamsicles]

It could be a puppet. Stick your arm up the neck hole, move the mouth around—

[He mimes it.]

And you're halfway to a ventriloquist act. And maybe I just don't want to freak some stranger out when they come checking the cupboards hoping they're going to find something useful, and instead get a faceful of horse.

[With irritable motions, he pulls the zip on his backpack closed, then picks up the things he had set down in order to fuss with it.]

Can we just get going?

[redrooms]

Of course.

[This puppet phobia really isn't explained away by his sprite, she thinks, but he's irritated enough that she's not sure pushing him will do much but make him shut down at this point. So, she tries a different tactic, her voice quieter.]

I just worry about you, Davesprite.

[mrcreamsicles]

[He shrugs at her, short and jerky.]

It's in the past.

[And he's going to get moving.]