[closed] and since we've one place to go

[nonscriptum]

Who: Nathan Drake, Elena Fisher, Agent Washington, Agent Maine, Kyna Midha, Staci Pratt, Poe Dameron, Taako Taaco, Lup Taaco, Peter Parker
What: Nate leads a polar expedition out to the mountains.
Where: Out on the tundra; at an undisclosed excavation site in the foothills.
When: February 1-14
Warnings: PG-13+ for swearing, descriptions of dead bodies/science torture. :(




[source]

WELCOME TO SNOW HELL

the journey | the door | the bunker | the lab

Comments

[volitaunt]

[ There's a moment where Poe starts to flinch away from the touch, too deep in his own head to be aware of his surroundings. Then he recognizes the voice and all but presses back against Nate's palm, an anchor, something to keep him in the present.

I know, Nate says, and it bears a chilling kind of echo to the words streaming through Poe's head at the thought of the dead and tortured sentients the Null held captive in this place.

I understand, I understand, I understand. I'm sorry.

Poe shudders. Pushes himself slowly away from the wall so he can scrub the mess he's made of his face off on one sleeve. ]

I'm all right.

[ Could it be a more obvious lie. He looks at Nate, hollow-eyed, and tries for a smile. Then he closes his eyes to try and stop himself from crying again. It doesn't work. He can feel the tears on his face still.

Quietly: ] Usually the comforting part is my job.

[nonscriptum]

[Contact is grounding. Nate knows from experience what it does for him when he's in his own head, incapable of reaching beyond himself, and it's a relief to see Poe lean into it. It isn't easy, being vulnerable.

When he lost Sam, he was a wreck. Nothing so emotional as frequent open sobbing after the initial shock ran through him like a lightning bolt, but neither was it a good reaction. He waded in fear and loneliness and neglected himself, his health, his connections. He didn't eat and his mind wandered more than it used to and he convinced himself that it was fine, to be half-there.

He's learned.]

If it makes you feel better, I'm not exactly the poster boy for healthy grieving.

[It's presumptuous but he doesn't care: Nate situates himself in a position that advertises an embrace.]

Bring it in.

[volitaunt]

[ Poe falls into it, wrapping his arms around Nate in return. Poe isn't a clingy hugger. He never has been. When it comes to physical affection, he gives as much as he takes. When he embraces Nate, it's an enfolding full-bodied hug. Muffled by Nate's shoulder: ] Never heard that one before.

[ Over Nate's shoulder, he can see that broken tank, the dead monitors beside it. Poe shudders. ]

I need to get out of here.

[ Even admitting that much feels like he's pulling the words from his throat one by one. ]

I made this icon just for you

[nonscriptum]

[Nate likes hugs. It's the kind of reassurance he never got much as a kid and he knows plenty of people starved for that contact, especially here. Even with the shared experience of seeing this, the way people deal with it is isolating. It's easy to shut off - having been there before, many times, he's aware of the way it can hollow a person out.]

Yeah.

[Nate pulls back, hands on Poe's shoulders, seeking eye contact. There's an edge of humor in his voice when he asks:]

You're not gonna throw up on me, are you?

oh no what a good icon

[volitaunt]

[ Poe avoids looking him in the eyes. He's not sure what his would give away.

The question, though, gets a small smile. ]

Nah. Next to you, maybe. Near you. Not on you.

[nonscriptum]

Let's keep it that way.

[The chuckle is subdued, but present - he claps a hand to Poe's shoulder and places himself between the man and the tube on the walk out.]

Being outside'll probably do some good, anyway. The air in here is orphanage attic levels of stale.

[volitaunt]

[ Poe licks his lips, shuddering a little. He can't tell if he's imagining it, but the air tastes recycled. It might just be how much the place is getting to him, it's probably just that, but still.

At least there's the relief of being out of that room. ]

Hate places like this.

[nonscriptum]

What, creepy, underground facilities full of nightmares?

[ Nate says lightly, trying to inject a little levity into the vacuum. Despite the humor he is intimately familiar with claustrophobic hallways full of decrepit tech.

At least there aren't any naked humanoid creatures crawling along the ceilings at them. ]

Thought I'd build my next vacation home in one.

[volitaunt]

[ Poe's amusement, such as it is, comes out as a small puh. ]

Probably cheap to buy, too. Not much of a view. Needs to be aired out, probably. Serious remodeling.

[ That's about as quippy as he can manage to be at the moment. He tries to keep his focus straight ahead, away from the artificial lights that remind him so much of the Finalizer. ]

I'm fine. [ He says it as much for himself as for Nate. ] You don't have to walk me out if you've got more you need to do down here.

[nonscriptum]

[ I'm fine must be universal code for I'm barely keeping my shit together, because Nate recognizes the intonation as if he'd said it himself. He huffs a laugh through his nose, quiet but unmistakable. ]

I could use the fresh air.

[ Not a lie, but also an easy excuse to act as a friendly escort. ]

I'm not worried about you falling over, okay? [ He clarifies, sincere. ] It's just...sometimes nice to have company.

[volitaunt]

...Yeah. Yeah it is.

[ Poe holds his breath all the way up in the elevator, half-expecting it to stop, or collapse, or for something else to go wrong. His sensible self says that Lup and Taako would have a way out of a collapse of some kind. He knows there are ropes they could use to climb out and people up top to make sure they're secured.

It's safe, it just doesn't feel safe. Nothing about this place feels safe.

The bite of frozen, moving air is a relief. He inhales, deeply, closing his eyes, even as the tears still on his face make his cheeks go numb.

Another inhale. A slow exhale. He shudders.

Will he be able to go back down there? ]

What's the watch rotation for tonight, do you know?

[ He tries for subtle. He does. But honestly, how subtle can a question like that be. ]

[nonscriptum]

[ His experience with elevators isn't stellar and for that reason Nate keeps one hand on the rope at his side, the grappling hook, should he need to resort to saving both their asses. Catastrophic lift failure thankfully passes them by, however, evidenced by the first waft of chilly air that makes the skin prickle on the back of his neck, pushes a shudder through the man at his side.

How messed up does he have to be, Nate wonders, to not feel that same winnowing thread of fear and upset? Nate encounters so many dead in his work that he barely notices it anymore, window dressing for an otherwise dismal tableau. He forgets that other people aren't exposed to it the way he is. ]

I've got first watch. Then Maine.

[ Nate would never consider himself a master of physical subtext, but Poe is all but screaming that he'd prefer not to be below ground level. ]

You've got base camp duty, but nothing downstairs.

[volitaunt]

[ Poe relaxes, feeling the pang of a muscle in the back of his neck that was wired tight from tension. He would have done it. He would have done what he had to do, if he'd been on the roster.

He's pathetically glad that he isn't. ]

Place reminds me of a First Order battle cruiser. [ Which probably gives away more than he means it to. All it took for John to know what happened to him, once upon a time in Riverview, was Poe saying he got caught once and Finn helped him escape. There's only so many things that can happen when you're trapped in an enemy ship.

The elevator thumps to a halt at the top of the tunnel, and Poe closes his eyes, letting the wind cut through him. A moment of silence, then, awkwardly: ]

Thanks, Nate.

[nonscriptum]

[ Even if Poe had been scheduled for duty, Nate would have taken the watch. For all that he considers himself ill-prepared in this role, he organized these people, brought them out here. It isn't coddling if he's willing and able to do the work others can't, it's that Nate is naturally restless and feels responsible for them. Save for Peter they're mostly adults, but that doesn't mean Nate wouldn't throw himself between them and a bullet if push came to shove.

He picks up on the cagey comment, something Poe would only know from firsthand experience. Time spent as a POW, maybe? Having been drugged or knocked unconscious and then interrogated before, Nate assumes the worst. ]

Don't sweat it. [ He quips easily, stepping off the platform at Poe's side. ] If that bunker was full of clowns, you couldn't pay me enough to go down there.