Log:I've Got A Feeling

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I've Got A Feeling
Characters  •   The Bon-Vivant  •  The Thrill-Seeker  •
Location  •  The Facility - Parlor
Date  •  2019-03-11
Summary  •  The Bon-Vivant finally manages to catch the Thrill-Seeker, and they discuss their situations -- past, present, and at-least-near future.

The room isn't really messy. While Cheer totally could mess up a room in under a day, there is no reason too. The only real mess is on the little desk. Papers and math books sit on the table along with a calculator. For whatever reason she has kept herself holed up in her room. The smells of baking and bacon occasionally wafting out. But she's gotten good at sneaking out for food and, apparently, books. However her door is open. Even ajar just a bit as she hadn't closed it all the way upon her return earlier.

Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail as she works on some problem from the book. The tip of her tongue is sticking out the side of her mouth as she works it through. A pink fuzzy robe encircles her as she works quietly.


The Bon-Vivant has not, particularly, been sneaking about. He's been keeping an eye out for the Thrill-Seeker, but given what Dare's told him -- and his own stressful couple days -- he's been loath to impose on her, to knock and make her deal with talking to him or telling him to go away. Or at least to ignore it. Even if the baking smells pretty good. Bacon... is less appealing at the moment. Maybe when the Lodge is a bit farther in his past.

In any case, it means that touch of ajarness to her door catches his eye on the way back from grabbing a snack and a book of his own, and he promptly takes advantage of it, knocking once, then twice again doubletime. It pushes the door a bit further open, and he leans a little into the space created, giving her a smile. It's very much his, and very much genuine, if a bit more crooked than showed up before that last life. "Hey," he greets, "How're you holding up? Got a few?" His hair's a little shorter than Scott-ish today, and he's wearing a silky-looking white shirt with a loosely tied black silk tie under a slimly fitted dark red velvet dinner jacket, but the ripped jeans are very last-incarnation. And he's barefoot, as he tended to be when they met.


The Thrill-Seeker turns in the swivel chair and looks up in surprise and with a faint frown at the knock. The frown mostly appearing more nervous than anything. It fades into actual surprise as she sees that it is Fizz. "Oh! Uh...y-yeah," It's a heartbeat before she responds. "Come in...close the door?" Her voice is catching and she quickly moves to scoop the papers and books together. Piling it in a way to try and hide what kind of books. Though the calculator and scribblings are dead give aways. "I have cookies..." She looks awkward and nervous, something that hadn't been seen before the story. And Kimmy didn't know how to be awkward, that would require being aware of the world at large.


Scott knew how to be awkward. But as a benefit, he had more experience with pretending not to be, too, and Fizz is the beneficiary there. So the smile Cheer gets is warm, and a little more relaxed than that first tentative one, as he steps in and does indeed close the door behind him. "Cookies sound awesome. What kind?" he asks, heading over toward her, "And what're you studying, math?" He sounds interested, but not judgemental; the book he's carrying is the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, so he's perhaps aiming for a bit less brainwork himself. Reaching her chair, he asks, or perhaps offers, "Do you also have hugs?"


The Thrill-Seeker bites her lower lip for a split-second and then launches up out of the chair to indeed show she has hugs. It's kind of tight and she is almost clinging. She certainly takes a deep and shakey breath before she steps back. Her own smile rising faintly as she looks him over. "Oh..." She glances at the desk and blushes. "Yeah. Kind of silly right? Come out of that story and dive into learning. But..." Her smile fades and her nose wrinkles. "I feel so stupid...even after it all. I don't like that feeling..." Turning to the little kitchenette she makes to move past him. "I made chocolate chip with macadamia. I'm trying to recreate the Pepridge Farms ones...the dispensor doesn't...quite cut it to me."


The Bon-Vivant is all about that hug, returning it fairly fiercely himself, though not to the point of pain. When she starts to pull away, he lets her, though he gives in to the urge to give her a light kiss on the head in the process. It's an unobjectionably platonic sort of thing, but familiar nonetheless, and he gives her a look that's faintly sheepish or apologetic afterward, as if maybe it had gotten away from him a bit.

"Nah, doesn't seem silly," he says, leaning gently against the side of the desk and glancing over what he can see of the math work, "I kinda figure... we know shit now we didn't before, it's gonna affect us." It may have had some lingering effects on how he talks, for example. "We're us, not exactly them, but we /were/ them, and... a lot of feeling-stuff kinda carries over. I think I got pretty lucky with being Scott, all in all. Also with you making chocolate chip macadamia cookies, 'cause damn." A grin; much more pre-Lodge, that one. More Scott before everything went bad, too.


The Thrill-Seeker's smile picks up at the kiss even if her cheeks pinken slightly. "Yeah. lots of feeling-stuff," She says trying to laugh it off, but it sounds a little forced. There is a cookie pot on the counter and she pulls it open. They aren't as big as the store-bought ones. But they're also not as super crumbly. Which may or may not be better. "Milk?" She's already moving to get two glasses and pour out of an old-style milk jug.

"You were pretty lucky. I mean...smart, popular, looks, friends, in a band," She pulls out a plate to place cookies on too as she talks. "I can't say I feel lucky...Kimmy had problems," The laugh again and more nervous than forced. "Not the least of which was her drug problem." Said with a snort and a brief rising of her eyebrows. A faint shiver runs through her and a cookie slips towards the floor from her hand.


"Yes, please," Fizz says, cheerful enough, and while he likely would have had some response about luck or problems, that shiver and more so the loss of the cookie preempt it. His book ends up on her desk, and he himself taking quick, long strides toward her. It is, of course, nothing like fast enough to rescue the cookie, but there will be more cookies; he's more concerned with her. "You okay?" he asks, brow furrowed, and looks about ready to wrap an arm around her if there's any appearance she might need the support -- physically or just emotionally.


The Thrill-Seeker sets the plate down before she drops the rest of the cookies and puts her hands on the counter. "I don't know," She admits after a seconds pause. That nearness prompts her to lean against him and sigh. "You know how before I didn't understand the feelings and all that? That closeness? Now I really wish I didn't. Because I'm pretty sure Kimberly had some form of mania or...something. I guess I have no comparison, but it feels like she felt things 100 times stronger than anyone else. And whenever I see someone she was close too it's like...my heart gets squeezy and I can't think again. I don't want to be stupid again! I hate it!" At least she is looking more angry than upset, though that hug would probably be welcome at this point.


No delay; as soon as Cheer leans against Fizz like that, the ready arm is around her. And as she seems to get more upset, the other arm comes around to give her a good, proper hug. It's still of the support and comfort variety, firm but also affectionate. "Yeah," he says, "I..." It trails off. "I don't totally wish I didn't understand the feeling shit more now, but some of it kinda sucks. Some... not so much. You're not stupid, Cheer. And, I dunno, maybe Kim did have some kind of mania, but that heart-squeezy thing? I get stuff like that. It does all sorts of shit." There's a wry smile with that, something bittersweet in it that it's hard to imagine he was capable of conceiving before the encounter. "And I guess it doesn't make it any easier to think straight. But honestly, it was-- there's a time or two before we woke up there that I felt things like that, too. I just didn't get it. So, you know. It might be Kimmy did have it stronger. But we might be stuck with that kinda thing anyhow."


The Thrill-Seeker wraps her arms around him in turn and just rests her cheek on his shoulder. The deep breaths she takes calming a bit. "Yeah. You're right," She says with a weak chuckle. For a heartbeat she is quiet. The kind where the pause is heavy waiting for words to fill it. "You know Kimmy...loved Scott right?" She looks up at him a faint crinkling of worry around her eyes at how the news will be received. "I mean...And Kirk and Danny..." The cringe is real as that slips out. "Like I said...she felt everything 200 plus plus..." The nerves are making her start to babble again.


The Bon-Vivant tilts his head enough to let it lean against hers for a moment before she talks again. There's a small, soft sort of smile at the first question, and he gives a breath of a laugh at the addition. "Scott loved her too," he says, "Not, like, in-love-with loved, he kinda mostly ran the other way from any dangers of that, before all that Lodge stuff." It's a bit dry. "He had his problems too, I guess. But he did love her." A small pause, and an equally small grin, "...and Kirk, and Danny." The grin fades, and he sighs. "He lost almost everyone he loved most, there, by the end. That's one of those feelings I wouldn't mind still not getting."

It's one he shakes off, too, mostly figuratively, though there is a slight shift in his shoulders, and he focuses more strongly on her again. "Watching the others, I figure, it's kinda a crapshoot. I got pretty lucky this time, but next time, I might be a complete asshole, or anything else I'm gonna come back and hate. Or I might be the second damn coming. And probably I'll come back with stuff from them in my head. But I'll still be me. If I'm a physicist there maybe when I come back I'll know how, I dunno, black holes work or something, but /I'm/ not gonna be any smarter than I am now, even if encounter-me was. And you're not any less smart 'cause Kimmy wasn't gonna win any Nobel prizes. Way it looks to me, that goes for most stuff. Seems like we bring back some of our knowledge and some of our talents and a lot of our feelings... but they're only /part/ of us."


The Thrill-Seeker looks relieved at Bon's answer and lets out a sigh. Squeezing him again as he keeps talking. "I'm sorry you have to feel that loss...you survived?" She bites her lower lip as she leans her head back to look at him again. It's clear she's calming down. Hugs help a lot. Friends hugs help the best. "You put it well. I guess I just need to prove to myself I can be better. That I'm me. Separate myself as much as possible. I don't know if that's good coping. Kimmy barely passed Psych," She flashes a little smile to show she's still capable of self-teasing. Especially with Fizz there uplifting her spirits. Like he do.


The Bon-Vivant nods, a small one. "Scott survived," he confirms, "...he and Sonya ended up together, after everything. I think they kept each other mostly sane. They started this party to have every year on the day between the anniversary of Danny's death an his birthday, to remember everyone... Everything I remember after getting on the boat has the same kind of... flat feeling the stuff I remember from before the frat headed to the Lodge does. But a lot of those feelings are there anyway. And everything from during is still..." It trails off; he can probably safely assume she knows what he means.

A slight shrug, and he smiles again, giving her a squeeze. "Scott didn't even take Psych, so I dunno how much help I'm gonna be there. But, like... I figure some separation's good? Knowing there's a difference between who we are here and who we've been there. Kimmy had good qualities too, though, y'know? There's reasons people loved her. She was sweet and brave and fun and cared about people, and that's not nothing."


The Thrill-Seeker adds a squeeze when she sees Fizz hesitating too. The memories likely welling up just like they do anytime it gets talked about. "Yeah...I know what you mean," She murmers and then slowly releases the hug. But only to pick up the plate and offer it up between them with a quirky smile. "She -did- care...I try to hold on to that. Cause, well, I do too yeah?" Her cheeks pinken again slightly at the compliment.


"You do," Fizz agrees, grinning at the offered plate, and he gives the cookies a perhaps slightly exaggerated assessment before picking once of them as though it is The Very Best One. A bite, and he looks as though he's decided he chose right. "Mmf. You got pretty good at this," he says, careful not to lose crumbs or display anything while talking with his mouth full, "...thanks."

He chews and swallows, looking thoughtful. "It's weird also trying to work out what encounter-stuff means for relationships with people here." He tilts his head, giving her a sidelong look, and adds, "Like, Scott slept with... kiiind of a bunch of people." There is definitely a sense of 'pretty sure we can relate on that' about it, and a hint of amusement as well. The latter may have something to do with, "Dare said not to be ashamed of it, and I'm not, really. 'cause if I'm honest? It was fun. I'm pretty sure I'd do it again. But not really knowing how the /other/ people feel about it, the ones who're here, that's weird."


"I've been using baking to learn math too. Math can be fun if you apply it to real stuff," She says while Bon-Vivant enjoys the cookie. Reaching for her glass of milk she dunks her own cookie. Then her cheeks are going red, not pink, but she's trying to not smile. Boy does she know what he means by that. Her head is even bobbing in agreement at the 'fun' part. Then she kind of forgets about her half-submerged cookie and looks up at him with that last bit. "Oh? Yeah?" The words are filler as the wheels spin quickly. "It -was- a lot of fun...and Dare..." She turns a little redder. "The three of us had some fun..." Now she's biting her lower lip to try to keep the smile from getting too big. Oh hey, her cookie has melter. She sets the glass down and the cookie on the plate to reach out and run her fingers along the lapel of his jacket.


The Bon-Vivant does not dunk his cookie; he eats it as is, but washes bites down with milk instead. The quiet amusement does not particularly lessen at the level of red she reaches, though really, he's probably just lucky he doesn't blush easily himself. Another quiet laugh, at the mention of the three of them. It's not mocking; if anything, there may be an auditory echo of her blush in there. He doesn't bother to attenuate his smile, though, and just lets it go ahead and spread as she claims that lapel. "We did," he agrees, absently setting his glass down as well, and slightly less absently reaching over to hook a finger into the sash of her robe. "That evening was... yeah. Fun's a good word." The smile turns into a grin, with a small shrug. "Probably one of those things I'd file under willing to do again. You know. Just to make sure it wasn't a fluke." And now he's teasing.


The Thrill-Seeker lets that smile go now and the dimples appear. More comfortable now that they seem to be operating on the same wavelength. "Just probably?" Now it is her turn to tease as she gets a grip on the lapel. It's mostly to help her balance when she goes up on tiptoe to kiss him. The kind of bold move Kimmy would do, except she wouldn't be blushing or playing word games.


"Oh, probably probably," Fizz says airily, which is about as much time as he has for playing back before she's successful in claiming that kiss, and talking would get in the way. He helps out her poor strained toes by leaning down a bit to meet her, and wrapping an arm around her waist to help support her balance. And only coincidentally to draw her in a bit closer, surely. There are arguably some benefits to having had a first 'other life' like theirs: he remembers how to kiss, for one. "...all right, definitely," he allows afterward, this time trying to suppress the grin at least a bit. If he was trying to quell it more than that, he fails.


The Thrill-Seeker slides her hands up the lapel and around Fizz's neck as he pulls her closer. Though the past life may have been educational in the kissing department, Cheer proves to be a different kind of kisser. Taking her time and seeming to enjoy and savor things. Kimmy was Go! Go! Go! When he leans back she is grinning in much the same manner. "Soooo...what -other- things bare repeating?" She asks suggestively even if she is still blushing around her cheeks. A blush of excitement more than anything else.


Hard to be certain from the current example whether Fizz and Scott are different in style as well, or whether it's just a similar level of adaptability. Either way, he's clearly happy enough to take their time and investigate how things are now. He tilts his head, making a bit more show than strictly necessary of considering her question. "Hmm. What other things..." he muses, doing only slightly better at dimming the grin than before, and then failing entirely before he steals another kiss. "Well. I bet we could get a pretty decent rainstorm out of an Anywhere Room, if we wanted. One of those nice warm thundery summer ones, maybe."


The way her eyes light up are an answer before the words leave her lips. "I would like that. A much more pleasant memory. One of our own choosing, yeah?" Cheer replies as her grin matches his. She reaches to take Fizz's hand in that moment and turns to head out the door. The echoes of Kimmy are there, but the light and, well, cheer, are all hers. "Brittany, France," She says it quickly. "The countryside is magical and the summer storms too...I think. Doesn't matter!"


The Bon-Vivant's hand is hers for the taking, and there's no hesitation in following her out; similarly there are definite traces of Scott there, but an underlying sense of lowkey exuberance that's more decidedly Fizz, and fitting of the name. "I dunno anything much about Brittany," he admits, as they head toward the rooms in question, "let alone the relative magic of summer storms there. But I'm pretty sure they'll manage it for us."