sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

WHERE: 6I Village and Inn
WHEN: 27-31 July
OPEN TO: ALL - Mingle
NOTES: The Wendigo threatening the village will be killed mid 28 July, with a Blue Lily, per these threads. Plot details here. Note: The final fight is close enough to be seen from the upstairs inn windows.
WARNINGS: Wendigo attack mingle, please warn in comment headers if discussing violence, gore, or related trauma. Possible mentions of character death.

The urgent warnings come from villagers returning south from the lake: a creature twice the size of a man, antlered and voracious. Larger than any they've seen on the plains, stalking its way to the main village. Some might have their own names for this hunger in a skin of shadow; others might remember that it was the first to claim a life, in their village's short history.

Whatever context one has for it, best to secure all pets and loved ones before it arrives. With weapons and food stores at the inn, the call goes out to gather — And to bring back any tools, because there's no telling what doors and windows can do to stop such a creature.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She felt something, but it was hard to distinguish what exactly it was. Mostly, she had forgotten it was there because touching people wasn't something she did often, which was odd considering her job.

"So does sensing danger, especially around here," Claire said, glancing back to the half-prepared coffee before stepping back over to it. "I wish I had that one instead."

Mostly because of her luck as of late.

"Yeah," he acknowledges, it has been exhausting. His regular strength paranoia was already enough to send him off the rails on a good day, now he had the super potent kind you could only get with a prescription and under the close watch of your pharmacist. "I'd trade you if I could."

Especially since Frank usually goes out of his way not to touch either. He sighs, already feeling like they're out of topics except for the obvious one. Karen. He'd rather not if he could help it, too.

She can feel that slow crawl to where Frank up and disappears and though the coffee isn't ready, Claire doesn't want him to go yet.

And while she has been meaning to ask how things have been going with the two of them, she knows better. So, she won't be bringing that up with him.

While the coffee does it thing, she moves back and realizes in this light it's easier to see his face and any injury she might have missed, so she stands damn near in front of him.

"Did you go out there?"

Oh, hello, that's close. He's not uncomfortable because it's her, but it makes him have to duck his head just a bit to meet her eyes. There are dark circles under his, but none of his usual bruising.

"Yeah, I've been out most of the month." He shrugs a little helplessly. "The rain makes it easier to get things done."

It doesn't make sense. Especially with the crazy thunderstorms. Except - did she mean when the Wendigo was at large?

"Today? No. I was at home watching the animals." He ain't afraid of no ghosts!! Except for how he super, super is.

She's comfortable being where she is and maybe that's because of the profession she's chosen. It's something she doesn't think about, really.

Those dark circles worry her, which she can only assume is because he hasn't been sleeping well. Yet, he strikes her as the type to get only what he needs and forego the rest but one day it would eventually catch up with him.

"I'm worried about you, Frank. You look like the walking dead." she told him.

He was used to proximity like this once, in the unit - overseas. Someone sleeping two inches from him. It was harder when he was back, big house, big bed. A family he couldn't relate to. Frank does his best to shrug off her concern even though a moment ago he'd been worried about her just the same. He never claimed not to be a hypocrite.

"Maybe that's the aesthetic I was going for." It wasn't.

Claire could have let that go - had in the past with others and sure, Frank was who he was, but she was who she was and that answer had her shaking her head, clearly getting a little frustrated.

She won't push, and after a long second, she admits defeat and steps away. This isn't her first rodeo or her second. Shit, it isn't even her third.

And now she's asking herself why she even bothers?

"Okay," she says, surrendering at first but right before she opens the cupboard to get some coffee she shakes her head again. "No. You know what? You don't get to do that. You don't get to be a hypocrite.

It's a two-way street. You care and get to be cared about."

Oh, she was absolutely going to call him on that bullshit.

He should have expected that. Frank shrinks back as she rounds on him, crossing his arms over his chest like they would protect him from the (very true) barbs. It's always been his problem: accepting help, offering too much of himself. Frank swallows, already worn down though she's barely started.

"Okay," he says simply, though his voice wavers as his equally shaky gaze seeks hers out as she turns back to the coffee maker. "We look out for each other. Two-way street."

If it sounds like something he's been yelled at before, it is. And if it sounds like a prefab answer, it sure is. Still, he's trying to be sincere. He hopes he can keep up his end of the bargain, but in reality, he knows the second it's appropriate he'll be throwing himself on his own sword. She'd be better off not caring for him at all, but he knows it doesn't work that way for Claire either.

The way Frank holds himself makes her heart drop a little but she can't be sorry for reminding him that he was needed. Not just when things went wrong or when someone who needed saving and she knew how hard that sometimes was to convey.

Claire looks down as Frank talks and it's hard not to be disappointed at the answer he was giving her. It made her feel, once again, like she did when she talked to Matt.

Heard, but not really; a broken record.

She couldn't do it again.

"Yeah," Claire nods for longer than she should have and it was clear she was upset. And still, without looking at him she points at the coffee on the stove that's ready now. "Um -- I have to go check on something but, help yourself."

She turns away and heads towards the door, unsure of where she was going to go but needing some space.

"Claire, wait-" he manages to push past his cracked voice, but she's already gone. He should go after her, maybe. Or maybe that's the worst thing he could do, honestly. It's not like he'd know the difference. Frank sits with a heavy sigh, forgetting his vow of silence even alone, and waits for the coffee to brew. You're his only friend left, caffeine. Thank God you don't have legs.

[MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

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