calling_logs | So when they say 'quiet' they really just mean 'as terribly dangerous as usual'

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So when they say 'quiet' they really just mean 'as terribly dangerous as usual'

Who: Steve and Dejah
What: Continuing from here, Steve and Dejah escape the beasties in a treehouse
When: Mid-afternoon
Where: City of Adventure,
Notes & Warnings: Mentions of blood and poisoning.

Now that the beasties are done with, Steve's going to climb his way up to the treehouse and collapse on the floor. Collapse because that was much harder than he'd expected it would be and while he knows he has some work to do, that he needs to check up on Dejah--

Dammit, he needs to get up and check on Dejah.

It hurts, and he's sore, but he pushes himself up and goes to take a look at her, check her wounds, see if any of them have turned an unsavory color. It's hard to tell, given her red skin and her blue blood, but so far, hopefully, so good.

"Sorry about the toss. I just... I needed to get you up there and I couldn't think of anything else to get you out of harms way. I hope it didn't hurt too much. How we doing?"

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"Well, all things considered, you've seen me covered in mud and blood, raving from fever, among other things." She sounds weary, but grateful. "It isn't as if I have a shred of dignity left with regards to you."

She mirrors that small smile back to him, looking at him through long dark lashes.

"I suppose we're pretty much even on that count."

She's known him less than a day and of all the things she knows about him, she knows he is and always has been a fighter.

Edited (word) 2016-06-01 21:08 (UTC)

He squints just a little in reply.

"I'm gonna say whatever we both had or didn't have on at the time? You probably wore it better."

It transforms into a smile.

"Seem pretty dignified to me, honestly."

"Thank you," she says. "As to who wore it better, I have my opinion on the matter, and to preserve what little dignity that remains, I will keep it to myself."

She waggles her eyebrows at him.

"Now, you said something about soup?"

He didn't actually facepalm, but he got very close. He let his head drop before lifting it to give her a faint, crooked smile.

"Clearly, you're the brains of this operation. Lemme get something put together for soup. I might have to head back down to get more water, though."

She chuckles and sighs, grinning right back at him. A distant part of her marvels at the hint of pimalia moths fluttering in her chest right now. What in Issus's name is that all about?

"I need to get cleaned up myself. Shall I join you?"

"If you think you won't open anything up by climbing down," he points out. Climbing, after all, uses the muscles that have just gotten doused in poison and then burned straight to hell.

"I can bring more for you to wash up if you think that'll work better. It'll just mean a couple of trips while the soup is cooking."

She frowns, chews the side of her lip for a moment, glancing around before meeting his gaze again.

"I do not wish to put you out any further, but I would bathe, proper, if it's possible. Do you think, perhaps, there is a way you might find to get me to the ground?"

He considers the problem for a moment before holding up a finger and reaching over to get to his bags. From the side of one of them, he pulls what looks like a relatively long length of rope.

"If I make a big enough loop with a good enough knot, I should be able to lower you down slowly. There's a tree next to this one with a branch that ought to work for it. That is. If you'd be willing to give it a shot."

She looks up at him and her head tilts, a smile slowly spreading across her features. She gives a slight nod.

"That should do nicely. I think I can manage that without too much trouble."

He gives her a smile back, encouraging, before leaning back to start putting the knots into the rope. He'll have to carefully climb his way up the ladder as he slowly lowers her down. It's going to be more than a little difficult and he's not looking forward to his arm screaming at him about it, but hopefully, she'll feel better after a bit of a wash.

"We should probably get going," he says as he pulls at the rope, tries to make sure it can handle her weight. "Did you plan on coming back here, or did you want to head back to civilization once we get cleaned up?"

She looks around them at the treehouse, as if committing it to memory. She sighs, a bit of a weight settling about her shoulders.

"Yes, I suppose we should. I'll have to remember this place is here. It looks like it would be a wonderful place to spend some time just -- relaxing."

"Considering how we got here, I'm not really sure how you'd ever forget it," he admits as he hauls his backpack over towards the side he figures he'll use. After a moment's consideration, he ties the one end of the rope around the bag; no sense in not using a counterweight, after all. It'll take some of the strain off him and make sure that if for some reason he loses grip, she won't just drop like a rock.

She watches him work, gauging the length of the rope and predicting what he's going to have to do. She shifts and frowns a little.

"Is this going to aggravate your own injuries?"

Because she'll make do if it means wounding him further.

He shakes his head easily enough. His wounds, well-

He holds up his arm to show that the skin has already closed and appears to be healing quite nicely.

"I heal quick," he assures her, "and it's the safest option. I carried you the whole way here and I tossed you up here. It won't be that bad. I promise."

"I shall take you at your word. Steve."

She almost called him 'Captain'. But he's been less than formal with her, and she'd like to continue along that path.

"I can make the walk down to the water. I do not heal at the same rate you do, but I am hardier than most humans. I promise, the walk will do me good."

"I didn't figure you'd need much," he admits with a bit of a grin. He's trying to be a little more positive; he'd seen the frustration at his comments, how little she liked him watching every step. But he knew what good was and what not good was and she wasn't quite 'good' yet.

"We'll get you down and you'll be right as rain once you're on the ground."

He pushes himself up and walks over to throw the loop of the rope over the branch. Then he holds the tied loop out to her.

She levers herself up again, fueled more by her focus and resolve to not embarrass herself in front of him than anything else. She takes the loop and slips it down over her arms and shoulders, pushing it down until it's around her hips. She'll be able to bear most of her weight on the seat and hold the rope with her hands.

"Ready when you are."

He nods as he slowly slips away from her and, after a moment of consideration, slipped the backpack on. Then he started on his way down the ladder.

"I'm going to climb up which should lower you down. Let me know if it's a little too fast or if you feel something unsteady."

"Will do. I trust you not to drop me." There's a note of teasing there.

She steps to the edge and waits for him to take the bottom of the rope. When he gives the go ahead, without hesitation, she puts her weight on the rope and sits back, falling gently off the edge he'd thrown her over the night before.

The first thing he might notice is how her gaze does not fix on him, but up and across the trees. "Sweet mother, you can see forever up here. This must be the tallest tree in -- how far is the horizon, I wonder. I cannot assume the distance the same as Barsoom."

The rope jolts just a little and she squeaks, her hands catching and holding tight. "Sorry, paying attention now."

"You're fine," he shouts up to her as he starts climbing the ladder, giving her a bright smile before putting his attention on the rope and the rope ladder.

"You're fine, really," he says again, "just let me know if you start feeling something slip. But-" breath "I'm sure it's gorgeous. It's" huff "a nice treehouse when you're not" breath "bleeding."

She turns her head to check on him, and this time, there isn't a giant snake chasing after her. Her mouth opens to say something, and the words evaporate in her mouth.

Sweet holy mother of us all. He is... Attractive.

She can't take her eyes off him the whole way down, muscles straining under his shirt, a light sheen of sweat forming on his throat and cheeks.

She swallows. Hard.

He notices that with a quick blink and he almost pauses before scampering up the ladder a little faster to try and meet her at the halfway point. Then he gives her a look up and down to make sure that she isn't having any kind of relapse or issue breathing or if something's going wrong.

"Everything all right?"

She blinks rapidly and her cheeks darken. There's a bit of stammering.

"Um, yes, yes, I'm fine. And you?"

Mentally, she facepalms.

...that can't be what he thinks it is. No. No way. Nope. She is... definitely not blushing at him. Nope. He's just... not going to think about that. That's the safest thing. Think about getting her down and getting her washed up and getting her to safety. That's what he's doing.

"Good!" he reports, just a little too chipper.

"Good. Great! Excellent."

Shut up, Dejah. Just stop talking!

"Almost there? I can't tell from here."

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