Participants:
| Scene Title | Back Into the Lion's Den |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Too many people still out there… the soldiers can't remain sidelined. |
| Date | January 15, 2012 |
Hollis's Cabin
There is just something about the steps at Hollis’s cabin, Benjamin Ryans always finds himself sitting there when there is some serious thinking to be done. Especially, now that he can’t do something so simple as chop wood. He misses being able to do that.
Misses being able to do a lot of things he could that require two hands.
He had been there since he left Nicole’s room, quiet and sullen. The mutual parting of ways was bitter sweet, but was not affecting him like he thought. There was a sense of relief, but also of guilt. Not towards Nicole, but to the baby she was carrying. What he has swirling around in his head could mean he never sees this one. Deep down he knows that his decision here is the right one, whether his kids believe it or not. What he is poised to do, was going to be for them.
He just hopes the others will let him make it… let him leave.
There is war coming… and Ben plans to be there.
They’ve been here a while now. Long enough for people to recuperate. Long enough to see the hell that is raining down on the world outside through the news that they can still get. He’s not the only one feeling it; Megan too is an old soldier and a patriot. She’s been quiet the last week, pacing the grounds of the cabin a lot. Once in a while she can be spotted leaning against a tree down near the pond, apparently deep in thought while she indulges in the very occasional cigarette, a habit she is apparently weaning back off, only doing it every few days.
Today, however, she too has made a decision — unbeknownst to her it’s the same decision. She cannot keep sitting here. There are too many people in the line of fire. When she sees him step out onto the porch and assume what she privately terms his ‘thinking posture,’ she gives him a little while before she steps out. “Got a minute? I’d like to talk to you.”
Huruma didn’t get much rest until they were out of the states; and even then, she didn’t fully get it until they made it to the Fitzroy cabin. Something familiar and in her terms, at least safe. The field of emotions she had been absorbing for weeks was slow to leave her, and by the time they arrived it had left her drained, physically and mentally. A few days went by where she effectively passed out for the better. Between the still healing injuries and the mental taxation, she needed it. People let her be.
When Huruma came out of it, she certainly seemed more like herself, eyes back to the brightness of a cat’s, frame energized and attentiveness back. It allows her to lend a hand where it’s needed, no pun intended. It was her turn to do the wood, anyway.
The empath’s field has kept in on itself, for the interim. Being influenced as she was— not a good look. Still, as time passes and her ache departs, she allows herself a cursory study of those she’s ended up out here with. It’s passive, at best. She’s done a lot more interrupting lately, since she’s kept her ability coiled up. Huruma comes around the side of the cabin, long axe in hand, just as Megan decides to bother the brooding man on the porch. For a moment it seems like she’s going to pivot back, avoiding whatever it is— but she doesn’t. There’s a flush to her skin and her coat is open, her presence coming with the scent of pine sap and cut logs.
The interruption is not unwanted, Ben offers Megan a small smile and scoots over on the stairs, motioning her to join him. “I’m all ears,” he rumbles out quietly. Thin brows furrow as he turns thoughtful again. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about as well.”
The empath’s entrance is not missed, Ryans catching the movement out of the corner of his eye. “Huruma… just in time.” Clearly, he wants to talk to her as well. Since, this decision affected them both.
Ben looks tired, despite the rest they have all have. Late nights sitting, reflecting on what has come to pass. “I wanted to talk to you both,” he confirms.
Quirking a copper brow, Megan joins him sitting on the stairs, smiling at Huruma as the other woman arrives. “Hey lady.” Glancing at Ryans, the redhead pauses a moment as she considers what he might have to talk to the two of them about. Resting her elbows on her knees, she clasps her hands between them as she leans forward. There’s a wicked twinkle as she looks at him and teases, “Well, age before beauty, darlin’. What’s on your mind?”
Just in time? Huruma gives the pair of them a somewhat puzzled look before Ben clarifies. She gives a small scoff of a laugh, the sound more on her breath than in her chest. She moves past the steps to hang the axe where it belongs, and once it rests against the wall she turns to face the pair again. Her gait is still a touch favoring one side, but it disappears when she playfully nudges Megan over to scoot herself onto the stairs with them. Make a space, you.
“I had the feeling that was the case.” Huruma’s legs extend some from where she's sat, tension in her limbs slow to dissipate. “You need more sleep and less time to sit there and think…” There's a ghosting of a smile, in and out.
Good thing those stairs are wide, but he doesn’t say that outloud, only scoots over a little further; amusement plain on his face. He might even give a small chuckle at the age comment. Feet are brought up a few steps so that he can rest arms on them, with hand gripping wrist.
Once they are both settled, he doesn’t beat around the bush, Benjamin Ryans simply states, “I’m heading back….” there is a short pause before he adds, “tomorrow.” He is just that impatient to head back into the fray.
That hip nudge earns Hooms a cheeky grin from Meg, and there’s a little playful jostling before she scoots sideways so they’re all sitting in the same step. Oh, FINE… I’ll squish up next to the hot guy, if you INSIST!
And then he’s talking. And … well, ruining the laughing part. Megan sighs heavily, part in dismay and part in abject relief. “Well… I guess that means I’m not going to have to fight with you about going back out there,” she observes drily. “Nicole’s okay with this?” More to the point, he’s okay with leaving his pregnant former girlfriend alone? Then she looks at Huruma. “You?” Because clearly she made up her mind to do exactly the same thing well before she even sat here. Though she’s not necessarily assuming they’re all going to stick together or anything — only that she figured this was going to be a more difficult discussion.
It’s not a small porch, but Megan is definitely the smallest part of the sandwiched stoop. Huruma allows the amusement to linger, for as rare as it is. Her eyes lift up to Ben as he starts, the lack of intensity in her reaction speaking for her. Of course he’s heading back. Megan’s words draw her gaze back to the other woman, peering to her past the curve of her coat bunched at the shoulder.
“That soon?” Is all she seems to concentrate on, at first. Huruma’s features pinch at the edge, mouth twisted in a small frown. Inky irises flicker to Megan, then between the two. “If you think I am staying out here for any longer than necessary… hff.” Huruma might enjoy the solitude of the cabin, but she’s not really made for it.
The mention of Nicole, of course, has his head nodding, no emotions about it…. acceptance. “She and I have both agreed that it is time to go our separate ways.” In more ways than one. Though that separation happened long ago, they were all just too busy to recognize it. “She doesn’t need me here for this, she assures me that she has plenty of support when the time comes.”
It would not be the first time he missed a birth of one of this kids.
“I’ve already been here too long.” That is Ben’s general feelings really. A glance, goes to the women beside him, out of the corner of his eye. “Do I take it, I won’t be making that journey back home alone?” Now his head turns so that he study both carefully, a brow lifting. “Won’t be easy getting back over the border.” Meaning, they could end up hoofing it at some point.
A copper brow quirks upward as Megan looks at Ben Ryans. Then she shakes her head. “Because any goddamn thing else has been easy yet?” she asks with a roll of her expressive blue eyes. “The only easy day was yesterday, mister — it’s time we got our butts back in gear, yeah?”
She grins just a little. “We’re gettin’ the band back together. I like it.” She doesn’t. Not really. But they will do what needs doing and save as many people as they can, and THAT she does like. “I’d like an extra day to pack extra med gear into your packs. My own is already packed, mostly, but … honestly, I assumed I was going alone.” She peers at Ben. “And with as often as you get your ass shot or otherwise damaged, I think I need more gear than I currently have packed.” Her tone is rather ascerbic, but there’s a hint of amusement to it as well. Huruma can tell that she’s far more relaxed about the idea that the three of them can watch one another’s backs than she was when Hooms first came upon them and she was thinking this was going to be a debate about whether she should go or not.
Huruma gives a small look when Megan quotes the service, not quite believing that one either. Her eyes narrow just a bit, and then she snorts, the tilt of her mouth pulling in a smile. It’s a slim one, but earnest nonetheless.
“I think we should let her pack the bags.” Huruma announces, as if there was going to be a debate. There isn’t, is there? Her arms move back and she leans against the top stair, head canting a considering look their way. “No, you’re not making it alone. As if.” What Megan said about the ass getting shot, et al. “I have crossed more dangerous borders in more dangerous places. Trust in me.” It’s halfway a taunt, but Huruma seems quite serious.
“I agree, Huruma.” In other words… Not it. Benjamin Ryans can delegate when he wants to, giving Megan a bit of a smirk. Course, Megan kind of walked into that one.
Everything falls away as he looks out at the scenery. It was beautiful out there, with the snow blanketing everything. It was probably equally so in the summer. He’d miss it, but he missed the battlefield more. An alarming thought, even for him. It has him looking down at the arm, missing a hand, and frowning a little. He’d have to find ways around that handicap… It was doable, but something he could address once they get back in the states.
There was something oddly comforting about sitting there with the two, he had a feeling… but he’s glad to know he was right. “Alright…. I’ll give it a day, but then I want to be on the road bright and early that next day.”
There’s a brief nod on Megan’s part, and she shoulder checks Huruma lightly. “Brat,” she informs the other woman. “Now that we’ve gotten all of that straightened out…” She sighs heavily and looks around. “We’re getting too old for this shit.” And yet, here they are once again. Taking up arms, walking out into the madness. Doing what needs doing because they can’t not do the job. A faint nod to herself and Megan moves to stand. “I’ll have us packed and ready by 0500 day after tomorrow,” she informs them.
As she heads down the steps, she turns and offers a sassy smile over her shoulder. “You better find some decent weapons and some stuff to barter to go with us. I don’t think we’re gonna get far on our looks.”
Huruma just smiles at the intonation of ‘brat’, and accepts the nudge without incident. It’s not untrue. She also seems to have accepted that universal line— too old for this— but at the same time, she’s known nothing else. Conflict is practically her blood. Ben knows that much, even if Megan only has an inkling. The redhead’s commentary earns a flatter look from Huruma, and the dark woman sucks on her teeth with a ‘tch’.
“Speak for yourselves.” Huruma can cheek right back, Meg. Don’t start another war. She responds with a smirk soon after, an understanding sort of look with it. “But yes— I have some idea of what to take already.”
Benjamin is quiet just listening to the women banter, head ducked down a little, a small smirk tugs at one corner of his lips. Blue eyes shift from one to the other, but he stays stoney and silent…. Just that smirk.
Would he ever really feel too old for that shit? Something for him to think on.
Finally, he grips the bannister and pulls himself to his feet. He was finally getting the hang of that, without it coming off as awkward. “I’ll make sure I have everything ready by tomorrow.” Chances are it will be another night with little sleep. He points at Megan, “I’m holding you to that 5 am.” He really won’t.
He steps up on the porch, intent on going in shortly to see Lucille. No reason to keep the impending departure from his oldest. “Something comforting about having you two with me.” Something weird for him to admit, but there you have it. “Thank you.” For going with him… for not stopping him.