Today's Answers


huruma_icon.gif ryans2_icon.gif

Scene Title Today's Answers
Synopsis Are tomorrow's questions. Whatever it is that Benjamin Ryans sought her out for, Huruma's meeting with him is cut to an abrupt stop.
Date June 10, 2010

Unknown location; somewhere between Fort Hero and the Metro area.

Huruma usually adores waking up to the sun on her face. A good rest, a peaceful waking moment. Sleep, dreams- they are some of her only real solace, at certain points in her life. As of late, they have been very much so; dreams of a family a world away, dreams of people that perhaps in her heart of hearts, however small, she wishes that she had not made ill with.

When she comes to, Huruma happens to be lying on top of one of those very people. Not entirely. Her mouth breathes in the fabric of a shirt. Is that a button? Cheek mushed against belly, both white eyes sliver open, meeting cotton lumped over Benjamin Ryans' abdomen. It is an uncomfortable place, half strewn over him as if she had simply- well- fallen asleep there. The sounds of a rustle preempt her forearm shifting on the pavement. Maybe she is testing to see if it is still there.

What was that?

Eyes snap open from a dark painful place to the bright blue sunny sky above him. It has Ryans' brows furrowing in confusion as he focuses on the fluffy white clouds seen above the towering buildings. He hasn't died… that much he knows. In fact, it takes him a moment to remember why he was here in the first place. His head turning a little to see his fedora resting a few feet away.

What the hell just happened?

When he does remember, that's about the time when he notices a weight across his middle. His head snaps up where he can see Huruma laying there. Brows lift high on his head. "I am going to guess I was not the only one that just blacked out?"

He lifts his cast to check it, to make sure there is nothing wrong — at least it doesn't hurt. So no damage there. "Off." He orders simply, shifting to sit up.

No, Huruma was just there because she thought it might be funny to see if he might punch her in the nose again. Despite her also wanting to sign his arm cast, it is as clean as it had been. Not a prank by any stretch.

She stirs more when he seeps into wakefulness as well, that forearm finding palm to pavement before pushing to hoist her head up. It is quite like prying herself off of a nice mattress- Ryans is absurdly comfortable for the fistful of seconds Huruma is there. First one arm, then the second, then one knee bumps against him to find a brace on the ground. Judging by her willingness to actually- get off like she is told- she definitely did not plan that.

"…Good guess." Huruma perches there beside him on her knees a few moments, thumb and forefinger moving to rub at the inner sides of her eye sockets, pinching at her nose and a knot between her brows.

Pushing himself up to sit is a touch awkward with one arm to lever himself up, legs stretched out in front of him. Benjamin Ryans can't help but notice others picking themselves up, hear people yelling for help, smell the scent of things burning. He glances back to the darker woman. "You okay?" There is no real show of concern over her well being, just common curtsey.

"Did you…" Ryans trails off with a frown, eyes dropping to the sidewalk in front of him. He sighs heavily through his nose, before looking at her. "Nothing…" Dismissing it with a small wave of his hand, which he then uses again, to help push himself to his feet.

"Did I what? I am fine." Huruma narrows her eyes, watching him struggle to get to his feet with one arm to help himself. She might help if he wouldn't be likely to slap her off. As it stands, she just lifts herself up following him, her field now reasserting itself as she turns her attention from the man beside her. Smelling burning is right- at least one car on the road has slammed headlong into a streetlight pole, causing an awkward jumble of other vehicles.

There are plenty of people helping each other up, though there are also a few folks still standing around looking completely boggled that most just passed out for literally a minute.

At least, Huruma knows him that well. Saves him the effort of brushing her off. Ryans moves to snatch his fedora off the ground, one foot shifting out behind him to keep his balance. When he straightens, he's lovingly brushing the dirt off it.

"Did you dream?"

That's all Ryans asks, at least at first, he angling a look her way as he moves to settle the fedora back on his head, pushing it into place firmly. "I did and it felt real. I thought I was right there. Could hear and smell everything." His fingers slide along the brim to make sure it's on straight.

A steady gaze watches for the next few seconds, considering. "Yes." She replies, at long last, using her palms to bat off the dust along her knees. "I dreamt, yes. Only of walking, though th'place was- nowhere that I had ever been, before." Huruma's smooth voice lasts until she stops again, swallowing once and tightening her lips together.

"You were there. An'someone else." Tongue slips over the edges of her teeth. "I d'no'think we are alone in this." Hazarding a guess here. It is not common for hordes to pass out of their own accord.

Ryans doesn't even try to cover the surprise, no need with her, she'll feel it. Blue eyes narrow slightly in thought, but he does glance around at all the confused people. "I… think your right." He observes with only a hint of amusement.

"So I was in yours… and you…" His gaze travels back to her, "…were in mine, with Delia. I didn't recognize the place either." But then he was bleeding to death and in pain. He dips his hand into his pocket and pulls out his BlackBerry. He hates those things but they are necessary. He taps out a message, he's slowly getting better at it, sending it to Fort Hero.

"They'll probably be calling me in soon." Ryans states ruefully. "I was trying to tell you before the black out hit, that I have been made Assistant Director." He doesn't sound or even feel happy about that. "So I won't have some of the freedoms I had before. Especially, since I'll have someone looking over my shoulder every step of the way." His lip actually threatens to pull into a scowl. "Not to mention it is going to put more of a strain between me and the girls."

Huruma's hands find the black that is her flattened, buzz-length hair, fingers kneading at her head; a vague gesture of soreness in her mind. Her lips are curved slightly down as she listens, a glitter in both eyes upon hearing of the personal news. "Assistant director? Really, now." Her lips invert, into a faint smile. "-an'here, out cavorting? Wit'me?" Not the worst thing. She seems to find the dynamic even more amusing now.

It does not take an empath to detect his distaste. Though it surely helps.

"If you need prying eyes …put out…" Huruma purposefully remains verbally unclear. But her meaning is obvious enough.

"Even the Assistant Director needs his resources" Ryans adds blandly, not finding the situation at all funny. "I'm between a rock and a hard place, Huruma." He sounds and feels deadly serious about that.

"This man has to live… for the moment." That statement making it clear how Benjamin feels about the man. "Something happens to him, it could be placed on my head. If that happens… it could cause some serious trouble."

She settles for that. For now. That gaze stays, unblinking, observant.

"I see. If you must ever change your mind, th'offer will stand." Huruma sounds somewhat disappointed. "I'ave been in similar places." Rocks- hard places- "Sometimes th'only way out is through, Benjamin." Her voice stays low, even as there is a ruckus of voices gathering on the sides of the street. "Good luck, regardless of how you assume handling th'role…" She is not just saying this because it could be fruitful to be not completely on a terrible list.

"Believe me when I say, I need it." Ryans says, with a slight upward tug of his lip. As predicted his cellphone starts to chime, demanding his attention. "And… I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell the girls."

Fingers find the blackberry and fish it out of the depths of his pocket. Punching the send, Ryans lifts his hand in farewell, even as he says into the phone. "Talk to me."

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