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[hymned_in]

The rain had arrived the day after Eugene, and for most of the month he's been unable to shake the pervasive thought that he'd brought it with him. It had seemed to mirror his mood: Dank and gray and a little confused, as if it wasn't certain whether it wanted to become a genuine storm or simply simmer up there instead. When it breaks, though,

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[whatdiesinside]

He'd missed Shari today, though he doubts she took it badly at all. The first thing he'd done when he saw sun slanting through the window was sigh out a breath it felt like he'd been holding all month, and his face gone sore from lack of sleep had finally relaxed into it. All morning, Snafu had just slept, dead to the world. When he woke up, he'd almost expected to be on the train again, find out it was a long, ugly dream and they'd still been cutting through New Mexico, but the barracks were still there, the sun was still shining and he feels okay, finally

[hymned_in]

"Just notes," is Eugene's reply, tone infinitely more patient than the day he'd arrived, or hell, most days since, cooped up in the same space and trying to decide whether he wanted to beat his funk or give into it. "More room than a Bible, at least," although the truth is it feels strange, all this bright, pristine paper waiting to be filled.

[whatdiesinside]

Finally deciding on a place for his hands, he braces them further back on the rock, leans against it like something cold-blooded, ready to soak up the sun before it gets moving. "Lost that, did you," he asks, looking sideways at Eugene to see if the answer comes with a reaction, more meaning in it than words. "Gonna start a new tally, let me know how long we been here once Christmas rolls around?"

[hymned_in]

"There's an actual calendar here," Eugene points out as he sets the notebook aside and digs into his pockets for his pipe. There's plenty written between the lines of that Bible comment, but he doesn't feel like rising to the bait, not today, no matter how much Snafu might want him to.

"I could start a tally of how many times that muffin girl tells you no, now that might be useful information to have," he adds with a barely-restrained smirk.

[1000_cranes]

God, it feels good to be dry. For the first time in a month, Charlie's out of her raincoat, out of her rain-boots. She feels like she's swollen like fruit in the time that it's been raining but, with another four months and change to go, she's sure that she can get bigger. When she catches sight of him, he's such a picture of contentment that she can't help but smile. She pauses, for a second, as much catching her breath as being nosey.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

[hymned_in]

"Yes, ma'am, it does," Eugene answers, the words and polite smile that accompany them instinctual, although today is the first time in awhile that the sentiment of kindness has come close to feeling genuine. He looks down to his notebook, page cramped with writing that spills over into the margins, and then quietly closes it over his thighs.

[1000_cranes]

Ma'am. She warms to him almost immediately, palming sweaty hair back out of her face as she studies him, one hand resting in the small of her back.

"Awh, hon," she says, smiling broadly. "You don't have to stop on my account. I'm just pausing before I fall down. Can't make it up to the compound all in one go anymore."

[hymned_in]

"Let me help you?" Eugene immediately asks, down off the boulder in an instant and reaching tentatively out towards her. Somewhere in Alabama, his mother is stroking out because it took him this long to offer help to a pregnant woman. He's sure of this because he can so clearly hear her asking him if he was raised in a barn.

[hylianqueen]

Zelda had missed the sun. Hyrule had rains, mostly in the spring, but once the planting was over and done with the sun shone bright over the vale that most of her country was nestled within. A month of rain, especially after the bright sun she'd grown accustomed to, had been dreadful, dreary and extremely limiting on what she could do to pass her days.

When the sun came back, Zelda resolved to spend as much time in it as possible and she had her own book with her. She smiled at the other man and tilted her head slightly at his notebook.

"It is so good to have the sun again, isn't it? I missed it terribly."

[hymned_in]

Returning her smile is instinctive, Southern politeness so ingrained he couldn't shake it if he tried, but he appreciates the sentiment and can, maybe, even appreciate a little company if it's the right sort. Dimly, Eugene's aware of her being very pretty. Far too pretty for him.

"It started raining the day after I got here," he admits with a wistful glance back to the sky. "I was beginning to think it wasn't going to stop again."

[hylianqueen]

"It only started with the first part of this month," Zelda admitted, following his gaze with her own to glance at the sky, clear and bright once again. She'd missed it, more than she could ever imagine.

"I have heard rumors that long periods of rain aren't the only odd weather this particular island receives. I hear there's snow, but we never had snow where I hail from. Too shielded by the mountains for such a thing."

[hymned_in]

"Snow?" Eugene ejects, less a scoff than a surprised sputter. "Snow on a tropical island?" She's gotta be joking, but she doesn't look like she's joking. In fact, she looks completely serious.

"I guess stranger things have happened," he concedes before she can reply, meaning not so much the weather but that they're here at all, so far away from anything that makes sense. "I've never even seen snow."