Event Log | Days 18-20

[doomcame]

WHO: K, Squalo, Taissa, Chloe & Cat
WHAT: Cabin fever, but inside a jail. The above get stuck after seeking shelter from the storm.
WHEN: Days 18-20
WHERE: VII.C.25 AKA Martin's Jail™
WARNINGS: None yet, please add them to toplevels and I'll update this as necessary.
NOTES: Make your own toplevels within and tag around for shenanigans and bad times.

Comments

[obeir]

K certainly hadn't been keen on the idea of Chloe venturing outside with a raging lightning storm still overhead, but unlike Squalo, he doesn't attempt to hinder her. She surely already knows the risks and can take responsibility for her own safety; he has no interest in keeping anyone prisoner. Bad enough they're stuck in a literal jail.

When she returns a short while later with that haul (what the hell?), he gets up and meets her at the doorway to help her bring everything in. Also to check out the state of her foot since he's become the resident medic. Surprisingly, she seems perfectly fine other than being drenched...?

"Where'd you find all this?" he asks in a wry tone, and offers her the dry, clean towel that he's been saving to make bandages from if needed. Might as well use it for its intended purpose now.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe’s getting comfortable enough with the crutch now that she can support herself hands-free for a bit, so she gratefully takes the towel to at least try and wring some of the water out of her thick hair. Not much she can do about the wet T-shirt, so you're welcome if you're into that kind of thing.

“Outside,” she answers cheerfully. “I've always been lucky with that kind of stuff.”

[obeir]

How the most injured party member manages to scavenge this successfully during a severe storm with virtually no visibility outside is anyone's guess, but K suspects there may be more to it than luck.

"I'll say."

Chloe's thoroughly wet, clinging clothes haven't exactly escaped his notice, he just isn't the leering type. And he's currently distracted looking through the impressive haul — and also visually checking over her injury.

"Those wet bandages need to be changed. Want me to?" His expression remains the same, but there is a faint teasing note in his tone when he suggests, "Or Taissa?"

[desperate_times_right]

Well, you know what they say. You can take the girl out of the circle of art thieves…

Unluckily (or maybe luckily) for K, Chloe is pretty allergic to shame at this point so she just laughs.

“Hm… beautiful woman who got me out of a bear trap or guy who cut me with my own knife, I dunno.” She winks at him, no hard feelings.

[obeir]

K just smiles at that and tilts his head in a shrugging motion, accepting his defeat gracefully. What Taissa said about things being 'safer for everyone who isn't a woman in a vulnerable situation forced to trust a stranger' has stayed with him, informing his actions since.

"Yeah, no contest," he says easily. "I'd choose her too. And you two have what's probably the most interesting meet-cute story, now."

[desperate_times_right]

“God,” Chloe snorts with laughter, “I fell down a mountain, you know? Trying to get to her. Thought she needed my help.”

Things definitely hadn't gone according to plan.

She holds out the damp towel in case he wants it back. “Thanks for that. See anything good?”

In her haul, she means.

[obeir]

"She didn't witness it, hopefully," K says, amused. Nothing worse than embarrassing yourself in front of the object of your affection. Or whatever it is Chloe and Taissa have going on; the details are none of his business, even if he does like to tease them both for how obvious they can be.

He accepts the towel back and hangs it up on the makeshift clothesline to dry. Because of course he's set one up.

"I mean— all of it." Barely suppressing a smile, he holds up the basil that's just beginning to flower. "Even little flowers for Taissa? Smooth." Or did she recognise it as an edible herb? He's inclined to think not, but Chloe has surprised him before with her knowledge.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe snickers. “She didn't, but this-” she gestures to the torn-out right knee of her jeans, still stubbornly crusted in places with old blood - “wasn't from the bear trap. Not my finest moment.”

Midnight hiking aside, Chloe’s usually much more likely to be spoiled than chivalrous.

“Oh, right. I brought back all the herb-looking plants I found because T-O called you guys homesteaders. Thought maybe you'd know what it was.”

[obeir]

He'd noticed the state of her jeans before but hadn't asked about it since the blood wasn't fresh. The explanation now gets a sympathetic wince, though. At least it wasn't worse when she's already down a foot. Injuries that limit mobility could easily become a death sentence here, and he isn't convinced resurrection comes without penalties...

"I'm not sure what homesteaders are, but as it so happens, I do know what the plant is. Basil. Gets bitter if it flowers too long, so this was picked at a good time." Good job, Chloe.

"Here's hoping we might get some sky pizza or pasta next." You know, along with the tires and elephants and giant bird statues randomly falling from the sky. "Then we're set."

[desperate_times_right]

“Homesteaders are back to the land types. Little House on the Prairie stuff.” If he knows what that is.

“Well, good job to me, then! I don't know if I would want to eat soggy sky pasta, though... Actually, never mind. I smoked that weed Ben found in the jungle, pasta can't be worse.”