04 | Location: Osten/Taxon Forest | From the shadow that's creeping up behind you

[freaks_myword]

You know that nagging feeling that there's something you have to do? It's not like forgetting to turn the stove off or lock the door before you leave the house. It sucks a little less.  It's like having a to-do list sitting on the kitchen table, and every time you walk through the room, you get a glimpse of that one little last item.  Maybe

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[poisonousparty]

The cans of dog food were gone and that leaves Party with an empty feeling in his stomach, growling and rumbling and just generally making him absolutely exhausted. Tired, but he can't sleep, like there's a buzzing in his skull because of everything. At least they had blankets, though. Thanks to a certain S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W.

He's ever watchful and ever flighty--that's Party's nature--but lack of sleep and food and general stress'll do that to a killjoy, even one as (in)famous as Party fucking Poison.

He's gathering a few things here and there, nothing big, always what little they need to barely survive, and the moment he hears the voice he panics.

Dropping his current supply of what seemed to be berries, Party whirls around to smack the other with his cast, automatically moving into a defensive position. He's not Kobra, but he still knows self-defense, and the fact that the voice is familiar hasn't registered at all.

[freaks_myword]

Okay, so sneaking up on the most paranoid person in Taxon was probably not the best decision Gwen ever made, but she was a girl who knew how to roll with the punches. She swung back and up to avoid being hit in the face and even she had to admit, it was a pretty close call. Guess she was a little rusty.

"Chill. I'm not a pinata," she hissed out in the darkness, prepared for a less clumsy evasion of any other attack. Her voice sounded very hushed and thick, an effect no undoubtedly caused by the quiet setting. It was kind of nice. She wasn't really one for hanging out in the woods. How Party even managed to discern good foods from bad in the sea of green shrubbery was her guess.

"I was just in the neighborhood."

[poisonousparty]

Party calms down and the glare on his face is words enough: a silent, unsaid watch it because if Party had his gun working, oh boy. Gwen would probably be toast.

"Viva la Fiesta," He mutters, wrinkling his healing nose and scratching at his hair, looking agitated. Rightfully so. He turns, and his own voice is a little throaty, the sound of a lingering cold surfacing. That's what you get with radiation everywhere.

"Sorry--I just, I..." He trails off, feels an odd lump in his throat. He's happy to see Gwen, though, just... Just..

He bites at his lip, fidgeting with his fingers. "Heya, Tumbleweed," he manages. "I've been wanting to talk to you anyway..."

[freaks_myword]

She flips herself around--a little somersault in the air to unhook herself--and lands her feet on the ground. Unlatching the belt from her waist, she offers Party a slightly apologetic smile. It's not because she just scared the crap out of him and is lucky she didn't just get herself killed. She mistakes his awkwardness for confirmation that her abandonment back on the rooftop put him off.

How to handle this? Gwen isn't master at this kind of thing. But she swallows her pride because there's worse things to have to apologize for. Killing him, for instance? She had to do that once. Now that was awkward.

"Yeah. Look, sorry I left you up there with that guy. It was nothing personal, I just..." There's a lot of ways she can finish this sentence, but because it's Party, she manages to be as honest as she can. "...had a way out, and took it. Figured he'd let you guys go if you played nice."