(Untitled)

[notenlightened]

Reese is in the Conrad common room. There's a book resting open in her lap, but she hasn't turned a page in the last twenty minutes. She's deep in thought - mostly about this situation she seems to have gotten herself in with Crews, but also, also inconveniently, her thoughts are drifting to what her father might say if he knew about this entire

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[stillaboyscout]

Vaughn has missed the Conrad. He's just back to visit briefly, to check in on his old room (still unoccupied, thank goodness) and just generally putter around. He's been feeling rather nostalgic as of late.

He wanders into the common room, where there's a stranger sitting reading. He pauses for a moment to try to see what exactly she's reading, but he can't seem to make it out, so he'll just ask.

"What are you reading?"

[stillaboyscout]

Vaughn looks away, the grin still there. He's awkward. He's awkward as fuck, in fact. He's kind of failed at all communication with anyone since he came through the Rift--he's seriously considered the idea that failure at conversing is in fact his Rift power--but this... this is working, almost.

"Have you been here long?" he asks. The questions are just standard wanderer questions, but he manages to make them sound genuine. Possibly because they are genuine.

[notenlightened]

As far as Reese is concerned, he's not really that awkward compared to some.

Some, of course, meaning Crews.

Hey, at least he's not talking about Zen or how everything's all connected or other topics she can't exactly follow.

"Long?" She shakes her head. "Couple weeks, tops. And yourself?"

[stillaboyscout]

Vaughn nods a little bit. "A year," he says. "You seem to have adjusted pretty well, if you don't mind me saying so. I mean, when I first came thought I thought I'd been kidnapped. It's taken me a year to really get used to this place."

And he's still not really used to it. But that's okay.

[notenlightened]

Reese almost scoffs at the word. Adjustment. Maybe she's just had too much practice finding other ways to deal with her problems.

And soon enough, she'll be falling back into those same bad habits. But that's not right now, and she fakes a smile that, for that moment, appears genuine.

"Maybe I'm just adaptable," she answers. "Like a chameleon or something."

[stillaboyscout]

Vaughn nods. "Maybe," he admits. "That would be pretty cool, to be a chameleon. I used to be able to adapt like that, but something about this place..." He shakes his head. He's not about to admit that when he came through he was emotionally unstable and had just burned down the house he-- he had just burned down his house. It's not something you want to share with strangers particularly. Instead, he gives Reese a small smile. "Glad to see you are adjusting so well, though," he says.

[notenlightened]

Reese shrugs, but there's a wry smile in it, too.

"Well, even if I'm not, maybe I'm just that good at lying about it."

It's the reason she got into narcotics right off the bat. She blends, adjusts to situations that most people might feel uncomfortable in.

[stillaboyscout]

Vaughn chuckles. "I guess that could be true too," he says. He's become pretty trusting of the people in Chicago, at least the people in the basement. And he's not about to stop either.

"Really though, if you need anything--it gets too hard, or even a little bit hard--you're more than welcome to contact me over the journals. It's crazy here, trust me."

[notenlightened]

"That's - that's kind of you to offer, thanks," Reese says, though it's semi-obvious from her tone that she's not the kind of person who really enjoys asking other people for help. Or advice. Or needing to depend on anyone, really, other than herself.

Not to mention she's not a big journaler, either.

"Maybe I'll take you up on it."

[stillaboyscout]

Vaughn smiles. "Just if you need anything," he reassures her. "There are plenty of people to reach out to."

He fails at not making things awkward.