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Jul. 10th, 2024 05:31 am
weartearrust: (Default)
[personal profile] weartearrust
"This is Angeal. You know what to do."

day 1 of the flood!

Date: 2025-06-13 08:37 pm (UTC)
cactusy: (every makeover needs a demolition day)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
Shaw has never had so much as a cold here outside of death tolls, and given that she hasn't just recently died, she is highly suspicious that something is up when she wakes up in the morning and feels like absolute crap. Hauling herself out of bed and splashing some water on her face does nothing; neither does having some leftover white rice for breakfast. The steady undercurrent within her that's urging her to Go, go, go is the only other anomaly, and she quickly finds that when she listens to it (by approaching the door, by opening the door, by stepping out into the hallway), the malaise decreases by degrees. She may not know the why here, but the what isn't hard to figure out. God. Fine.

Without bothering to change out of the tank top and sweatpants that she'd slept in, she slips on some shoes and heads down from Level 1.
Edited Date: 2025-06-13 08:37 pm (UTC)

Date: 2025-06-15 06:17 pm (UTC)
cactusy: (I'm also murdering everyone)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
She is indeed; in fact, they very nearly meet in the stairwell, with her just about to step inside as he rounds the corner to come down. And the moment he's in sight, the moment he's within arm's reach, the feeling of malaise starts to lift - not all the way, but enough for her to put two and two together. Her eyes narrow.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Date: 2025-06-16 03:27 am (UTC)
cactusy: (unfortunately I am still fully conscious)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
"Toss-up," she says, with a shrug. "I wouldn't rely on a schedule for floods, but, uh-- people causing trouble isn't a bad bet, either. How are you feeling? My head's still a little woozy."

Without consciously thinking about it, she takes a step forward, closing the already-short distance between them by another few feet.

Date: 2025-06-17 01:33 am (UTC)
cactusy: (be hot or beat someone up)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
"No," she says, just as his hand connects with her forehead; barely half a second passes before she says, "Oh."

The sick feeling is gone - evaporated into thin air, just like that. Not even a trace of it remains; she feels completely normal.

"There's no way we can do this for a whole week," she says, even though she's absolutely positive that that is exactly what they're going to have to do.

Date: 2025-06-23 07:20 pm (UTC)
cactusy: (this planet both wipes and sucks)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
"I'm thinking about the worst-case scenario," she says dryly. Which is true, but also--

"This feels like the Admiral's doing. Forcing wardens and inmates to stick close? That's an on-the-nose enforced bonding experience if I've ever heard one. Somebody's powers running amok would've, I dunno, forced us to slaughter each other or something."

Date: 2025-06-23 08:01 pm (UTC)
cactusy: (this is how I wanted things to be)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
Effective or not, Shaw's doing the same thing: shuffling backwards inch by inch, feeling out their limits here.

"I can handle a lot," she says, frowning down at her feet. "But, uh, I hate to say it - I think we should be crippling ourselves as little as possible here."

Date: 2025-06-23 08:17 pm (UTC)
cactusy: (oh‚ wake up and snort the coffee)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
Shaw snorts, but doesn't disagree; just because she's had plenty of experience with co-ed communal bathrooms doesn't mean she's actively looking to repeat the experience.

"Okay." She angles her head towards the far end of the hallway that she'd come from. "Let's see how it holds up through walls and doors, then. My cabin's right down there."

Date: 2025-06-28 01:00 pm (UTC)
cactusy: (well‚ another day done)
From: [personal profile] cactusy
Shaw's thoughts are, reluctantly, the same; as much as she'd like to feel this out more, they should focus on one thing at a time. So she walks along in silence, making sure to neither outpace him nor let him outpace her as they make their way to level 1. In theory, it's a balance that she should be used to, but the extremity of it trips her up. Walking so close that she keeps accidentally brushing her elbow with him is new. So is the undeniable relief she feels every time it happens.

With a defeated sigh, she reaches out and curls her fingers loosely around his forearm.

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