AUGUST 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

[sodder]

AUGUST 2019 TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to August's Test Drive Meme! This month's Test Drive's theme is: DYSTOPIAN HORROR.

All Test Drive Memes contain at least one clue to the Deerington's upcoming in-game events for the month! Keep your eyes peeled! But...not literally.

Characters may die during TDMs, but you do not need to count it towards a game-canonical death unless you want to. Consider it a freebie. All TDMs can be considered game canon as TDMs introduce minor aspects about the world of Deerington that can be revisited by characters later on in the game. You may also use TDMs for your application writing sample as well as AC.

CW: Physical violence, monster violence, creepy ogre-like monster in link, being hunted by a monster.
Don't forget to tag content whenever necessary. Have fun!

Prompt One
Prompt Two
Character Arrival
Master Navigation

BLOOD IN MY VEINS

With supplies low and food getting even more scarce, things in Deerington, Maine seem to be getting that much more tense. For those who pay attention to the habits of the townspeople, there’s something that might add to that feeling of stress; all of them seem to be involved in some kind of physical training, whether it’s archery, hand-to-hand combat, or fighting with firearms, they all seem like they’re getting ready for something and it definitely feels like it might be something big.

But no one wants to train against a townsperson - it’s highly likely they’re not going to fight fair with the way they’re all glaring at the Sleepers, as though they’re to blame for everything that’s been going on. Unless you’re sparring with people in your own backyard though, it seems like there isn’t any space to get your own training in.

The Betties are starting to pop up around town pretty regularly, waiting until they find Sleepers on their own, and quietly waving for them to come closer. “You need to prepare,” they’ll whisper to you in hushed urgency, before grabbing your hand to try and get you to follow them. If you fight, they’ll insist only once more, before leaving you alone. But there’s something inside of you urging you to comply and follow.

They’ll lead you down an alley, pushing aside a large dumpster, and revealing a trap door in the middle of the concrete. You’ve never noticed it before, even if you’ve been down this alley a hundred times. The Betty leading you leans down, pulling it open, and the ladder that goes into the tunnel is long and dimly lit. You could leave now, but the Betty will insist this is for the best.

“Knock twice. No more or less. Show them what you’re made of.”

Once you get to the bottom of the ladder, there’s an equally long hallway that leads towards a closed metal door. You knock twice and the door shakes before sliding open. The light that comes through is almost blinding with how bright it is compared to the dim tunnel, but as your eyes adjust, you can finally step in to a fully stocked training room.

There are instructors in basics for beginners, areas for intermediate, and most abundantly there are one-on-one sparring areas. The moment you come close enough, you’ll be immediately paired with another Sleeper, and the two of you will be locked in the room together to be observed. You could choose to not fight, of course, but you’ll be stuck there for a good long while if you do. It might be best to just get it over and done with.

So feel free to help others who seem to be struggling or show off your strength for everyone to see. It looks like everyone is going to need to be ready for some kind of fight.

I AM THE GREAT UNKNOWN

Maybe you got knocked out during a fight or maybe you fell asleep in your own bed - or maybe you don’t even remember closing your eyes at all, especially if you don’t usually have the ability to go unconscious for one reason or another. No matter the cause, everyone will wake up in the same place, surrounded by tall, thick hedges in the middle of a... maze?

It doesn’t take you long to realize you aren’t the only one waking up, too. Someone is next to you and it seems like you’re stuck finding your way out of here together. Literally. On each of your wrists is a metal cuff with a long chain connecting them. It can’t be broken, no matter how strong a person is or how powerful a weapon or spell they try to use against it. You’re in this together whether you want to be or not.

Once you can pick a direction to head in, it seems like this might almost be boring - that is until you start to hear the sounds of rustling leaves and breaking twigs. At first it seems like it might just be a trick to spook you, but the more you ignore it, the louder it gets, until finally you see it, charging down the row at you, scythe raised and ready to strike.

You can try to fight, of course, but it’s hard when you’re chained to one another. Learn to work together quickly and maybe you can make it work. It seems to go down with normal attacks, though it takes a long time to get the creature to fall unless you cut off the head. Ultimately your best interest might be set in running as fast as you can to get away. You can lose it in the maze if you’re quick about it. But then you might also be lost yourself.

If you do manage to lose the monster rather than killing it, stay quiet and you might not attract its attention again. It may take a while to find the end of the maze. The hedges feel like they stretch on forever and the sun is blaring down. You’d think there would be shade with all the height of the bushes, but there’s no relief from the heat. Hopefully you don’t burn easy.

When you get to the end of the maze, the two of you will come up on three doors. One door will lead out of the maze and back into the center of Deerington, cuff free. Another door will lead you right back to the beginning, forcing you to start again. And what’s behind door number three...?

The monster, of course.

Choose wisely.

Character Arrival

You can read how all characters arrive in Deerington here.

There is not a collective "all these characters showed up at the exact same moment" occurrence in Deerington. Since characters fall asleep, die, or pass out at various times throughout all their worlds, it wouldn't make too much sense if they arrived in game all at the exact same time. There should be some discrepancy between character arrival, whether by a couple minutes, hours, or even days up to a week.

The players are entirely in control of how/when they want to play their characters arriving in Deerington. For TDMs, you can play it like your character has just arrived and that can be maintained as your game canon, or you can wait until game events for that moment. Or you don't need to acknowledge it at all. The flexibility for character allows a bit more of an organic feel to the character arrival situation, so please play it to whatever feels right for you.

If you are interested in having an "arrival" introduction for one of your TDM prompts, you are more than welcome to explore that option.

Comments

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt winces as the cut appears on his hand. He holds it up, examining the bead of blood that forms there.

His heart sinks at Logan's words, at his bitter tone. A man who has spent so much of his life absorbing pain and suffering to prevent it from happening to anyone else, making sure he's the first on the firing line so others don't have to be because he alone can take it, and now the very act of doing so will hurt the people he's trying to save.

Oh, Logan.

As his friend pulls him into a hug, he loops his arm around Logan's waist, his tail snagging around Logan's ankle. Sighs. ]

I hope so, mein Freund. We've survived worse, haven't we? [ He gives a brief, dark smile. ] Mostly.

[ He pulls back, stepping away from Logan again and flipping his stick end over end a few times in his hand. ]

Come on, then. Let's get it over with and hope they don't force us to fight our way out, ja?

[howlett]

[It’s easy to let himself think they two of them could just stay here like this. Beating those who put them here through sheer patience alone. But they aren’t willing to wait. He tried to wait out those first few of fights only to learn they just switch out the sleepers until someone’s determined to fight.]

That’s it. Kurt. That’s exactly it…

[A banging on the door he was pushed through interrupts him. As if someone’s trying to get their attention. And the voice of one of those townsfolk who brought them down here makes an impatient suggestion that they quit stalling.]

They want a fight. They want a winner here, you get me? And they’ll take you outta this place if it’s you.

He turns his attention to the rack of weapons available.] You need a longer weapon. Or… something with range. A pole arm. A bow. You need a good way to hurt me that won’t hurt you.

We have survived worse. And we’ll get through this too.

[suchmiracles]

[ It takes Kurt a moment to understand what Logan is implying. He frowns, glancing at the door and then back at his friend. ]

Was? Logan, no. Either we both get out of this verdammt little room, or we both stay here. I'm not losing you again so soon after finding you.

[ He points the end of his short staff at Logan. ]

And if you try to lose on purpose, I'll just teleport myself around until I start bleeding again and tell them you won.

[howlett]

Elf, don’t get stubborn and stupid on me now. [He puts on his gruff voice and sizes up a glaive that must have at least enough reach.] You know as well as I do if someone’s gotta shed some blood it oughta be me.

[Kurt’s concern for him is always touching. He’s always been one of the few to take the rending of his flesh as seriously as that of anyone else. But one of them can walk away from this without any permanent scars and the simple math on that shouldn’t be anything to argue with.

Letting the end of that staff prod him in chest he steps forward into it, crowding Kurt and his weapon until they’re almost nose to nose.

He could provoke him, Logan thinks. Give him no choice put him down. They’ve talked about this. Kurt is more than capable. But pushing the boundaries of his best friend’s trust is not how he wants to spend these moments. Despite the aggressive way he advanced him in, when Logan raises his hand, it’s only to hold his friend at the back of his neck and plead his case as firmly and desperately as he can.]

I don’t know what they’ll do if you’re injured, Kurt.
I don’t know what they do with the one’s that are too hurt to go on.

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt bares his teeth, the thin shadows of the room crowding across his dark fur, deepening the darkness around his glowing eyes. He puts one hand on Logan's shoulder, feeling the reassuring solidity of him. ]

And do you know what they'll do if you stay here too long, Logan? Do you know what they do to the winners? I don't trust these strange people and I don't like the idea of having to break in here to get you out again, so.. I'm sorry, mein Freund.

[ He closes his eyes as he teleports, anticipating the pain. The cloud of purple smoke billows up around Logan, then appears at the other end of the room as Kurt doesn't so much appear as falls out of it. He manages to stay on his feet, but staggers a step and wraps his arm around his stomach. ]

You'll have to.. catch me first.

[howlett]

[For a moment that hand on his shoulder makes him think that Kurt understands. That he’ll cooperate. And the relief that comes with that softens his expression to a tired smile while he gets one more look at this friend. Those inky shadows look like they bleed right into his skin and his bright eyes— always a literal light in the dark.]

I don’t know, but they must need you for something. But at least if you’re useful to them, they won’t just … get rid of you. [And that’s when Logan realizes he hasn’t won this argument at all. Just the opposite really. Kurt is out to be as obstinate as he is.] Don’t be.. Kurt! Don’t—

[But he’s only grabbing at an armful of sulphurous smoke. It’s sharp familiar like the matches he lights his cigars with. Watching him stagger through his landing is already more than Logan wants to see.]

For Christ sake! Kurt! Stop! [He lunges at the lithe blue fellow. If he wants to keep it up he’s taking Logan with him.]

[suchmiracles]

[ Pain cramps through Kurt's abdomen, but he shows his teeth in a grin as he sees Logan pounce at him. An idea presents itself. Without thinking any more about it, he acts.

He grabs Logan's shoulders as his friend lunges towards him, allowing Logan's weight to hit his chest, and throws his arms around him.

BAMF

It's a little more successful than before -- Kurt was picturing the tunnel that the strange woman had lead him down, but they end up spilling out of a cloud of smoke a few feet outside of the door, on the other side of a small group of astonished townsfolk.

Kurt doesn't stop himself from falling to the concrete floor -- he's too caught up in the agony that rips through him, as if someone is dragging a knife through his guts. Blood runs freely from his nose. He manages to fix his eyes on Logan as the outraged mob begins to start forward. ]

Maybe we.. run?

[howlett]

[He expected to hit something. Be it Kurt or the floor. But when its both and the room keeps spinning well beyond his expectations Logan groans and lumbers to his feet none too gracefully. Porting like that always causes a little dizziness but around here it seems to pack a real wallop.

It’s the pained noise Kurt makes that pulls his attention even before he realizes they’re on the other side of that door. The way curls up around himself he half expects to see a physical wound. In fact, he wishes he could. At least that’s something he might know what to do with. Something internal though— that’s so far beyond his limited set of skills.]

Jesus… You gotta quit— [But Kurt, it seems, already knows that and his game plan seems like the best one.] Can you?

[Rather than wait for an answer though, he reaches down to haul Kurt to his feet and puts himself between the crowd and his friend.]

Go. I’m right behind you. [With that he grabs a weapon rack and throws it down, scattering the hall with weaponry and buying them a few short seconds to go.]

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt stumbles as Logan picks him up, his gaze skidding over the unhappy faces of the townsfolk. He's seen such faces before, too many times. Anger building behind their confusion, normally placid people becoming monsters. The pain in his body drives his fear like gasoline on a brush fire.

He starts at Logan's words, giving his friend a brief panicked glance before he shoves past a handful of townsfolk, hearing the crash of the weapon rack behind him as he forces his body into something resembling a sprint down the hall. ]

[howlett]

[Making a hasty retreat is almost never his plan, but without knowing a thing about the layout of the building there’s little to be done that wouldn’t just see them tossed in a box again. Hurrying through the corridors, it’s hard to make sense of this place when he’s certain the way they came in wasn’t even there some days ago. It’s the staircase they led them down that seems familiar and by the time they’re reaching it, the throngs of scrambling people are catching up.

They don’t seem as organized as this little operation would have him believe, he thinks just in time to feel something strike him. They’re throwing things. Crowding up and looking strange and stoic, but, not even fighting really. It’s almost nothing a little razing the air with his claws doesn’t inspire back. These people don’t fight. But they want the sleepers to.

The door puts up the most resistance, but Logan doesn’t wait to solve the lock. He just rakes it over until it’s rendered useless and together they throw their weight against it until it flails open, letting them stagger back out into the street to lose themselves in Deerington.]

I knew there was a reason to avoid this town… C'mon. Can you keep moving?

An impossible task, but one he’s attempted anyhow, holing himself up in a forgotten little property out by the lake.]

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt holds his wrist against his bleeding nose as they stumble out into the fresh air, moving away from the door to lean with one shoulder against the wall of the alley for a moment. Voices echo up from the tunnel behind them, but they don't seem to be attempting to follow. Yet.

With Logan's words he pushes himself up. It's tempting to lie to Logan, to put a brave face on things, but he knows his friend would see through it, and that honesty will get them further than giving in to pride. ]

I think so, but.. not fast.

[howlett]

[For all the time he’s been in Deerington staying alive never seemed as important as it does now. He’s been living in this place like he’s got nothing to lose and now… it’s terrifying how quickly one person can change that.]

Lay low, Elf. [Easing his friend to a seat, he hunkers next to him, wrapping his bloodied knuckles in a scrap of his plaid shirt. Getting them out of tight places is Kurt’s speciality— not his. He really only knows how to make a getaway one type of way.] Don’t port unless you also-fuckin’-lutely have to.

[It’s no small effort to pull himself away from Kurt, but if they’re going to get out of here fast, they need a better way to travel. Rushing to the street it’s a motorcycle he sees first. It looks like an Indian, but it’s missing it’s decals. Either way, that’s a machine he knows how to jack.

When he returns, he roars up to the end of that alley way. It’s not exactly a stealthy exit, but at least it’ll be a hasty one.]
Get on! They haven’t clocked us yet.

[With Kurt against his back and the wind whipping at them, he finally feels some sense of relief that neither one of them will have to say another goodbye today.]

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt sinks down onto the floor and lets Logan take charge, leaning as gratefully on their years of friendship as the warm brick of the alley wall. It was one of the things he had missed about him, this sense of purpose, of no problem being insurmountable. No matter how often and how vehemently Logan himself might have disagreed with the idea, he did make a fine leader.

Kurt isn't surprised to hear the roar of a motorcycle heading into the alley, and smiles a little as he climbs carefully onto the seat behind him, wrapping his arms around Logan's waist.

As they speed out into the street, Kurt presses his cheek against Logan's shoulder. ]

Where are we going?

[howlett]

[He finally feels his adrenaline falling in time with the beating of Kurt’s heart against his back. It’s his tendency to be blunt that makes him want to say home, but really he’s got no idea how to answer that question. It’s not home. It’s just the only place that feels something like safe around here.] Don’t worry. I’ve got a place.

[The bike rumbles to a halt outside the rickety old cabin he’s been keeping to. It’s a far cry from the comforts of the Westchester estate, but it’s quiet and well removed from the chaos of downtown Deerington. Sure, there’s some weird things out in the woods, but he’s always felt like one of them.]

[He ducks himself under Kurt’s arm, giving him something sturdy to lean on.] There's no locals out here. Just... watch yourself at night. Once in a while, something weird wanders out of the woods.

[The remote little lake house doesn't look like it's been lived in much and its current occupant hasn't exactly gone to great lengths to make it cozy, but with it's log cabin look and stone fireplace it's no surprise why Logan gravitated to this place. From the outside there's no lock. Inside however, the only work he's done on this place is obvious— the row of brass and cast iron latches of different types that line the door all look like they've been recently installed.

While Kurt finds a spot to rest, he latches each and every one of them.]

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt takes Logan at his word, trusting that he knows what he's doing. Pain radiates out from his core and he lets himself sink into it, concentrating on the sound of the wind and the bike's engine and Logan's breathing under his ear. Through narrow eyes he watches the town pass, the strange pastel people and the quaint houses, the flickering shadows of cats and dogs. If this is a dream, he realises, it's more like a nightmare.

When they arrive at the cabin he lets Logan help him off the bike, leaning on him on their way into the little house. The pain is growing less, but his knees still feel weak, his body thrumming with the aftermath of whatever was destroying his powers.

The inside of the cabin, however, manages to make him smile. It's so very Logan to retreat to somewhere like this. If he concentrates, perhaps he can pretend they're just on vacation in Canada, or upstate New York, and that no time has passed at all. No deaths, no rebirths, no Heaven or Hell, or strange dreams.

Kurt sinks down with a muted groan into a chair by the table, one palm flattened over his abdomen. He watches Logan latch the door and raises his eyebrows, compelled to ask about it. ]

For the "something weird"?

[howlett]

Do-it-yourself alarm system. [He smirks a little. If something really wanted to get in there’s plenty of ways to go about it. But if nothing else he’s determined to make sure he hears it coming.

Like any place the older man’s ever occupied there’s not much here that screams personality. A few tins preserves of food pinched from store. A jug of clean water. A few bottles of liquor. A small variety of jars filled with something syrupy and almost black like raspberry jam. Nothing indulgent. The pantry of a survivalist. But Logan himself seems to breathe easier here.

He polishes a couple of glasses haphazardly and unscrews the cap on a particularly cheap looking bottle of borrbon, pouring them each enough to savour.]

What’s it doin’ to you, Elf? [Those who don’t know him have trouble clocking genuine concern in the express of a man so gruff. That kind of intensity in his eyes could easily be mistaken for frustration. And in some ways it is. But not for Kurt. For whatever the world has foisted on them this time. He hauls a chair close enough that their knees almost touch.] Do you need a doctor? I’ve heard theres some around. Banner, even. I could find him. Maybe he can help.

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt takes his glass and holds it between his hands for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of drinking with Logan again. He takes a small sip and winces -- Logan's taste in liquor tends to be lean more towards strength than flavor -- then a longer one, sighing a little as it takes the edge off his pain.

He meets Logan's eyes, not able to stop himself from offering a faint smile at the strength of his concern. ]

I don't know, mein Freund. I get the feeling this isn't something that medical science can help. [ He glances down at the dried blood at his sleeve, then dabs at his nose, a little embarrassed. ] Unless someone has figured out why this place is changing our powers?

[howlett]

[He certainly hasn’t. And if anyone else has he’s yet to meet them. Not to mention Banner isn’t exactly that kind of doctor. Then again, when you’re dealing with a man who’s biology involves quantum physics, maybe Banner is exactly the kind of doctor he needs.

He pulls back way more than a dram of that drink and leaves a pitiful remanence sloshing around the edges of the glass. However you slice it, Kurt’s right. The gap between his desire to help and his ability to do so could rival the Grand Canyon. And it makes him bristle visibly.

Damn near every minute Deerington has been a trial. And here’s something knew getting under his skin. But none of that is Kurts fault. Even if he can’t decide between being grateful or furious towards whatever power brought his best friend to this place.]

It’s a good look, tough guy. [He teases as he reaches across the little kitchen for the towel by the sink. Dampening it with a slosh from that jug of clean water. The man sitting across from him is so often his moral compass that it’s tempting even no to remind himself what Kurt might tell him to quell his frustrations. Count your blessings, or something like that he thinks.]

How long have I been here— I mean, I been here a handful of weeks. But it feels like I’ve been away from home, from the school, you. For ages. How long’s it been? How’s you? The school? Kitty?

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt looks down at his drink, the dark liquid in the glass, as he thinks about his answer. He rubs his fingertips over his stomach, trying to summon something other than pain and remembered grief.

How long? Too long. Always, too long. And how to summarise everything that he's missed, the fights, the quiet moments? ]

The school is.. how it always is. [ He offers a shrug, a quick flash of a smile that doesn't quite reach his lambent eyes. He was there yesterday, with Jean and the others, and now here -- it's too strange. ] Bigger. Chaotic. Kitty, Ororo, Laura.. they're fine. They -- we -- miss you. It's been.. years, Logan. Two years, nearly three.

[howlett]

[He holds out an open hand waiting for Kurt’s in return. Twisting that scrap of fabric off Kurt’s knuckles and dapping at the cuts there with a touch of bourbon on his kitchen towel.

He knew something didn’t add up. Like time itself couldn’t be trusted here. But to hear Kurt say the word years— plural— still takes him aback. His chuckle is more incredulous than mirthful.]

Jesus… somma those kids must be so grown.

[It’s not even how long he’s been gone that really wounds him. It’s the thought of how much everyone else must have changed by now. He’s seen more people grow old than most people ever will and missing even a few years of the lives most dear to him is a loss he didn’t see coming. And maybe he was more right than he knew about everything he said to Jean-Paul. That maybe there’s no coming back from this place. Not for him. ]

Fuck, Kurt. Beaubier’s stuck in this place too, you know? Now you? At this rate who’s gonna be left?

[He stops dabbing at that wound a moment and gently swipes that blood away from Kurt’s upper lip.]

Where were you before you turned up here? Where’s Amanda…

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt sets his hand willingly into Logan's. His touch is warm and welcome; Kurt barely feels the sting of the alcohol on his cuts. They're small compared to whatever has broken inside of him, but he understand's Logan's need to do what he can, to fix what's tangible. He can't run at whatever has splintered Kurt's ability to teleport with his claws, but he's got liquor and a scrap of fabric, and that will do, for now.

The resignation and tiredness in his voice makes Kurt's ache anew. Whatever it is that's happened here, it's worn down even Logan's indomitable will. Fear slides into Kurt's belly, cold as the damp fabric that traces across his lip.

He reaches up to catch Logan's wrist, before he takes his hand away, and holds it, just to feel him there. ]

I was at the Institute, in bed. I think. Jean has a plan, we're going to the UN tomorrow. [ He pauses. ] I hope that.. still happens. Amanda, I don't know. [ He looks at Logan, his eyes round, incredulous, as the fear grips him. ] Mein Gott, we're really stuck here, aren't we? I spoke to a young man who helped me, he's been here for nine months. Dreaming, for months! Logan, what will we do?

[howlett]

[There’s so little room for him to feel helpful here. This whole place feels like the domain so someone who understands the world in ways he’s not equipped to. Someone like Doc Strange, or Magik. Hell, Kurt’s got a better hold not that mystical crap that he’s starting to think this is all about. It’s a helplessness that makes him frustrated at the best of times and foolhardy at the worst.]

I dunno, Elf.
Beaubier ended up here like you did. Just closed his eyes and lost himself. He’s been here an age too. Even ran into some version of me from some other Goddamned dimension. It’s been hard on him. This place… But lots of people like him, they’re makin’ do.

[It’s paper thin consolation, he knows, but the moments when something here isn’t breathing down your neck and the towns folks aren’t trying to screw them are few and far between and for now Kurt needs rest where he can get it.]

We’ll find our way through this one too.

I don’t wanna say I’m happy you’re here, Elf. I’m not. I’m just not. I wouldn’t wish this on you.
But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t glad to see you.

[suchmiracles]

[ The smile that Kurt gives him is genuine, even if it is tired. He turns his head a little to touch the backs of Logan's fingers against his brow, closes his eyes and takes a breath, then lets him go. His expression when he looks back at Logan is more peaceful than before, but there's still a tension around his eyes and mouth. With Logan's ominous tone, how could there not be? ]

I'm glad to see you too, mein Freund, even if it is in some verdammt dream dimension.

[ He pauses, his tail flicking back and forth above the floor, thoughtful. He takes another small sip of his bourbon before he continues, looking up at Logan and holding his gaze. ]

I dreamed about you often, after you died. Just things we had done or left undone, little things. Drinking at Harry's, fighting together, fixing the Blackbird late at night. I admit, when I saw you in that room, I thought for a second, aha! This is what it is, and I was relieved, you know? But now, the longer we stay here, and whatever it is we're going to have to go through.. I'm not glad to be here, but if I am here, I'm glad it's with you.

[howlett]

[Sometimes the best and worst thing about Kurt is his incredible earnestness, Logan thinks. If it weren’t enough to see him here, listening to the younger man talk of dreaming about him takes all of Logan’s conviction to not say something untoward, or bring up some long forgotten moment that should have been laid to rest. His eyes pull away when Kurt’s gaze burns too brightly to take it.

What would that satisfy anyway? Some selfish desire to know that he can still get under his friend’s skin? Kurt doesn’t deserve that. ]

Well. [He clears his throat. It’s the sound of a man trying to pull himself up by his own bootstraps. Mustering the power to say something hopeful but glib.] We’re even now, right? One funeral a burial each. I swear to God, Blue I won’t bury you again.

[The words sound rough, but through that grim perspective he’s smirking.]

You should, get some rest. Take the bed. [It’s tight quarters, but he hasn’t yet resigned himself to staying here long enough to need more than this.] I don’t want you hurtin’ if we go back out there poking’ around this place.

[suchmiracles]

[ Kurt's known Logan long enough to understand when he pulls back, looking away and huffing, slinking back behind the walls of his fortressesed heart. He knows the limits of his friend's patience and doesn't push him, although -- selfish, needy -- he wants to. Instead, he closes his hand on the memory of Logan's touch and drains the last of the bourbon in his glass. It makes a warmth in his stomach, easing the muscles there a little more.

He risks a glance at his friend as he pulls himself onto his feet. ]

Danke, I think that might be a good idea. I -- ah! [ Between the strong alcohol and the stress of the last few hours, his usually strong body betrays him, his knees buckling as he tries to stand. ]