[log] give me that sportsball I'm gonna throw it in the garbage [closed]

[awwnoun]

Characters: Clint, Natasha, Ecks, Davesprite
Location: Building 124
Date: Day 195, evening
Summary: Introducing: dog!
Warnings: None, at the moment.

124: This house, covered in snow, is dark and cold, but better than outside. The snow presses in on the windows and makes the roof creak and groan whenever it shifts, but it seems to be holding up alright. It's a standard, single-story house with a living room, single bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, and dining room. The bedframe has been taken apart, and its pieces arranged neatly from largest to smallest on the floor. The house is sparsely furnished, unfortunately with mostly metal There's a back door leading off into darkness, but it isn't locked. There's a blue smear on the bathroom cabinet. "Hsiaoke Pass" is written in spray paint over the door facing the residential zone, and in sharpie on the back door.

Comments

[mrcreamsicles]

[Davesprite stiffens visibly when he sees her reaching for the shovel, but he knows what it is making him wary now. He pushes at it, reminds himself what it is, that he's unarmed and safe anyway. It helps when she pulls her hand back away from it, and he lets out an undisguised breath of relief.]

Nah, that's not the thing I did wrong.

[He moves into the room now, but only just to take a spot up against the wall. It helps to have something to his back, and he figures it's less threatening than coming over to sit by her just yet.]

I got startled last night because I didn't hear you coming until you spoke up. Normally realizing that much would have been enough for me to back down, you know?

[Talking with Clint last night helped to lay it out, but actually saying it is the harder thing. His jaws shifts a little as he chews his words. His arms fold up across his chest.]

I shouldn't have drawn a weapon on you, or kept up that kind of stance even when you said you didn't want me to stab you. I didn't actually want to hurt you. And it's... It wasn't even your fault. Not like someone actively threatening me would be at fault, because all you did was try to come give my handcuffs back. So, I'm sorry for making you think I wanted to hurt you, and for not backing down when I should have fucking known better.

[Deep breath.]

I think I've got paranoia, from MN poisoning. That doesn't make what I did okay, but I think that's why it happened.

[ecks]

[She saw his fear just now, and she keeps her hands inside the bundle. She listens, and she remembers when he touched her and she flinched, and she thinks about how he looked when they were facing each other, the scissors in his hand.]

I'm sorry also. I did not know it would frighten you, and then I was afraid also.

...I still have your handcuffs. And if you get blood that will stop the poisoning for a while.

[mrcreamsicles]

[Okay. Okay. It feels better to hear a return apology from her, even if it was more his fault than hers in his mind.]

Thanks, Ecks. [Hm.] How about if it's dark or if you're coming up from somewhere behind me, you try to walk a little louder? If I had heard you I probably wouldn't have jumped like that. I've heard about the blood thing, but for now that might help.

[You know, until he can get to a doctor or whatever. He doesn't really like the idea of doing more blood stuff, even if he understands the benefit.]

Can I have my handcuffs back now, too?

[ecks]

I was always taught to walk quietly.

[You know, for creeping up on people and murdering them.]

But I can try to walk more loudly for you in the dark. You can have your handcuffs back now.

[She finally sits up all the way and tugs her bag over to herself, unzipping an outer pocket and rummaging around for the cuffs.]

[mrcreamsicles]

I'm not surprised.

[People are trained to different purposes. He was taught speed, reflexes, and to stay on guard for sudden attacks, and he was never the murder weapon Ecks was. The thought puts another nervous prickle through him, but he reminds himself of what she's told him. That, right now, she is telling him he'll make the effort.]

[A breath to steady himself. He floats over and sinks down near her, like kneeling without knees, then holds his hand out for the cuffs.]

I appreciate it. Both things. Clint told me, too, that he'll try to tell me if he thinks the paranoia is bugging me too hard again. But I'm going to try to keep a better eye on my own self now that I know what's up.

[ecks]

It is easier when you know it is poisoning.

[She finds the cuffs, hands them over.]

At least, I think it was easier once I understood I only like fake animals because I am poisoned.

[Knowing hasn't stopped her from carrying them around, or from happily spending two days in a room full of them deeper in the ruins.]

[mrcreamsicles]

Better stuffed animals than paranoia.

[At least in his view. He takes the handcuffs and spends a moment looking them over needlessly.]

Stuffed animals and two-year-olds go together. If not for you telling me it's the MN poisoning, I never would have thought of it as weird.

[ecks]

I stole a doll from Doctor House.

[She's coming to terms with that. Sort of.]

It was not a justified theft, and I knew it was not a justified, theft, but I broke my rule and stole it anyway.

[mrcreamsicles]

Yeah, you mentioned that.

[And he saw them talking about it in one of the posts House made.]

But what's this stuff about rules and 'justified' theft?

[ecks]

I have a book with rules. There is a flow chart for determining what is a justified theft, because it is one of the complicated rules. The set of circumstances did not lead to a justification in the flow chart.

[mrcreamsicles]

[His expression shifts. Sorry, Ecks, but a whole book of rules sounds downright weird. Maybe less so for some kind of flesh golem girl who used to be a tool for murders, but still.]

... So what does justify a theft?

[He's curious now anyway.]

[ecks]

If the person who owned the thing is dead and has not left a vengeful ghost, that is acceptable. If the thing is needed to prevent real harm to a person and taking it will not harm the owner, that is justified. There are others. It is a flow chart.

[Just reiterating that.]