[MINGLE] Great Shakes

[sixthiteration]

WHO: EVERYBODY
WHERE: EVERYWHERE
WHEN: 13 July (afternoon, main quake) - 14 July (morning, last aftershocks)
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Potential injuries, PTSD, and anxiety

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The sun is still high when the earth begins its initial, almost benign sway, but seasoned villagers know well enough that what follows will be far from gentle. Vibrations ramp up swiftly, exponentially, until within the space of a few seconds, the whole world is shaking — Dishes pinging down from shelves, young trees sifting free of the earth, shingles dislodging and tumbling like rain.

After 20 seconds, the worst is done, and after 30 the shaking has ebbed completely. Some will have escaped relatively unscathed, but others will not have been so lucky...

...and the aftershocks are still to come.

Comments

[oorah]

He doesn't think he's wallowing, he's been trying to pick himself up and move forward the best he can even if she can't see that. Maybe she hasn't had a chance to because every time they're together it's some crisis or another.

"I know," that he's a dick. It wasn't really anything but a statement just shy of a hypothetical. He doesn't doubt that she'd be better off out of his orbit, but neither of them can keep their distance in a place like this so he has to try to be better for her. That's what Kira had said anyway. Frank scratches the top of Aurora's head when she comes back around and sighs, trying to let go of some of the tension pooled at the top of his spine. "And that's never been on you, Karen. I'm sorry if I make you feel that way."

It's sincere, his voice soft as ever as he forces himself to meet her eyes with more than a wandering gaze. She doesn't have to accept the apology which is something she knows, but at least he means it. He's reaching out, should she choose to bridge the rest of the emotional canyon they both had a hand in digging between them.

[digging]

If she keeps looking at him now, she'll just fall completely to pieces; the soft, earnest sound of his voice is already more than enough to get the job halfway done, thanks.

"I love you, Frank," she says before she can think to stop herself, her focus on the floor, expression pinched. "I'm not going to act like that's an easy thing, or ever has been, but trying to change it really doesn't—" She pulls in a breath, eyes falling closed. "No, that's a lie. I've never tried to change it. I cared about you before I even met you." A fleeting peek up at him, then another glance away.

"I want you around. I care what you think. I would like to see more of you, to know if you're really okay. It would be nice to know for a fact that when you show up on my doorstep, it isn't just for my dog. I would like to feel like this isn't an uphill battle— And I know some of that is on me. I get it. But if the problem is things not being said plainly enough, now you know."

[oorah]

Wait. What? How did they go from apologies to... love confessions? He looks alarmed and confused and hurt all at once because that's what he is and as ever wears his heart directly on his stupid sleeve. When it all conglomerates, it's hard not to be angry - he feels like he's being manipulated, like a certain response is expected and she knows he can't stand to be boxed in. He had confided in her, he'd been mind-controlled. He'd lost so much of himself before he came here and maybe she thinks she loves him, but she hasn't done much to show it herself. Glass houses and all that happy bullshit.

"I see you every goddamn day if you wanna say something to me," he points out, more of the hurt coming through than the anger when he finally speaks. An uphill battle? What kind of a path does she think he's been on? Is there smooth even pavement beneath his feet because he thinks they're both going up a fucking rocky cliff and she just pushed him down his side only to say his path was easier so he should've seen it coming. "You don't want me around, Karen. You want me to be someone I'm not anymore."

And for that he really is sorry. Reims apparently made him unrecognizable to her, and it's a shame. He'd tried so hard to put her first, time and time again. To make sure she was safe, to be physically available even though they both knew he always sucked at the emotional kind. She used to just break through, force him to see another side. Here it seemed he wasn't even worth the effort in this state, and in the end he can't even fault her for it. Who knows, maybe Kilgrave broke him in a way he can't come back from, the same way he had Jessica. The thought makes his lip curl in disgust and he shoves his coffee cup away. He's not giving someone else the chance to walk away from him tonight.

His eyes flash with something else, fear probably. He's always so damn scared. He'd told her that, goddamnit. He keeps going back and trying to blame himself, but this time he did what he was supposed to do. She hadn't once asked to help himself or Kamala - and that's fine. Because maybe they don't need each other the way he thought. Maybe this time it's Frank who needs some space.

"Good night, Karen," he says gruffly as a courtesy and turns to walk out the open doorway. Aurora catches on a second later, crashing into his legs on her way by; but his gait remains undaunted and steadfast. A moment later, she'll hear the front door to the Inn shut heavily, not quite a slam.