faderift | [closed] The Great Nerd Hunt

It's a pity the eluvian is so far behind them, because this means they'll have to actually use the tents and bedrolls and supplies and things, which has dampened Benedict's spirits more and more the more ground they've covered. He's not carrying them, of course-- they've brought one of the griffons, who plods along behind the group with an even more marked lack of enthusiasm.

Maker only knows what they'll find; going airborne will get them back quickly, especially if anyone's injured, but will only draw attention to them if they're heading into trouble. So the griffon has to walk, and they could probably ride the griffon on the ground if Benedict weren't so nervous about them, so he has to walk too.

The sun's beginning to set, casting long shadows over the tree-lined path as they make their way into boggy lowlands. Benedict's stomach gives a loud complaint, and he immediately glances to the others in hopes that they didn't hear.

Clarisse can't believe she's doing this with two people who are afraid of griffons. Well, okay, correction: Abby is afraid of flying and Benedict is afraid of griffons, but it all evens out to the same thing, doesn't it? Walking.

And Clarisse can walk forever, it's not an issue of fortitude, but it does mean that they're moving much more slowly than she's used to these days and that Blunder Supreme is carrying all their stuff, which the griffon reminds them of every once in a while by screaming.

She's paused on the road to dig a stone out of the sole of her boot, and she definitely hears Benedict's stomach. It doesn't help that he looks over as soon as it happens, an almost guilty expression on his face.

"What was that?" Like she doesn't know.

"A monster," Abby calls, before he can reply. She's grinning, looking back at Clarisse to check her reaction, noting the digging out of the stone. They've been walking for a long time now and they're probably due to stop soon — obviously this has all been harrowing for Benedict, who isn't used to traveling such long distances on his own two feet.

Abby, on the other hand, feels good. In her element. Would feel even better if they didn't have Blunder Supreme hanging around in the background, occasionally screeching to keep from being forgotten, but you can't have everything. "Better pick up the pace."

Har har. In reality she's been assessing the road around them, craning her neck to look ahead and off it.

She stretches her head to the side, feels the muscle stretching across her neck and shoulders with a little pop. Sighs. Carrying her share of the stuff is getting old anyway. "We're losing daylight. We should stop before it gets dark." And before they get into the bog of it all...

With a full-body flinch every time Blunder screeches, Benedict's nerves are already frayed; he casts a scowl Clarisse's way when she calls out the sound of his stomach, but Abby answers before he does. So be it. Monsters are everywhere.

"And eat something," he mumbles, with a twinge of anxiety to his dourness: one doesn't quickly forget what it feels like to actually starve, even if his current state is more accurately described as 'hangry'.

Edited 2025-03-13 00:07 (UTC)

Clarisse chucks the stone off to one side and smiles. It's not so much that the joke was funny as it is finding Abby cute, but either way the result's the same.

She could walk some more, but the other two are right. It'll start getting dark soon, and they should find a place to camp before they get too far into this boggy area. Sleeping on wet ground wouldn't improve anybody's mood, least of all Blunder's.

"Let's find a good spot."

Clarisse steps off the road and begins to make her way through the grass, searching for a place that looks level and won't be conspicuous if anyone passes by in the night. The griffon complicates things a little, but if they make camp behind some shrubs or trees or something she figures they'll be hidden well enough.

She's in luck there, everything is so... brown. And dead. The weather has been less cold lately, there's been less snow — but the surroundings have only just started coming back to life yet. This is fine, in their favour even. All their camping supplies are faded and will blend in. Abby, letting Clarisse scout ahead, hangs back to guide the griffon down the slope and off the main track, palm settling gently on her neck.

"Blunder's hungry too," she says, "If that makes you feel better."

Blunder is always hungry.

Moving ahead with Clarisse, Benedict knows well his role in all this: finding firewood, which is easy enough in this scrubby place, and then setting it alight, which… is less easy in the damp, but he’s committed.

He’s cupping a small flame in his hand under the pile he’s created when Abby and Blunder make their way back into view, and it’s only after a first cursory glance that he realizes something amiss.

“Is that—“ he gasps, fixating on a tattered mass on Blunder’s back within beak’s reach, which, upon closer inspection, appears to be a tent: “oh, Blunder, no! NO!”

He nearly forgets about the fire, shaking it from his hand before it can catch on him.

At the first gasp, Clarisse is whirling around to find out what's wrong. She's not sure what to expect—her precious griffon bleeding, maybe, or with a broken leg?—but Blunder is just standing there, looking fine. Of course "fine" for Blunder Supreme means that she has a vaguely annoyed look in her eyes, but still, Clarisse can't figure out why Benedict would yell like that if nothing is—

Oh.

"Shit," she says, zeroing in on the tent and realizing right away what must have happened. Blunder had been trailing behind them, unhappy, most of their stuff packed on her back. She must have been ripping at it with her beak all afternoon for it to look like this.

This is... unfixable, she's pretty sure.

"I mean at least it's not raining," she says finally.

With them all paused, Abby takes the moment to start to haul the supplies off the griffon's back — she immediately stretches her wings out, tossing her head, jawing at nothing with her beak. Up this close to her it's like being in the stables, the scent of feathers and griffon-sweat suddenly overpowering. "I think we overpacked her."

Or she's lazy and vindictive... Hard to tell with Blunder Supreme.

Anyway. The tent is dead. Or, the top one is at least, because the one underneath is totally fine.

She says, a little dismally, "We can probably all fit in one..."

What they really need is a good fainting couch for the groan-and-slump Benedict is doing, but a rock suffices as he sinks onto it with a dramatic toss of his hair. His face goes into his hands briefly, his fingers curling-- he hates camping, he HATES IT,

"maybe there's an inn," he says weakly, into his hands, "in the swamp."

Clarisse scoffs loudly. "I'm not paying for that."

There isn't an inn, obviously, but if there was.

"Just suck it up and sleep in ours." It's big enough and it's one of the temperature controlled ones she got her hands on a while back—she and Abby and Ellie had all been sharing it before Ellie left, and while it hadn't been roomy or anything, it wasn't terrible. A few nights won't kill them.

"Unless — do you snore?" She's fiddling with the rips in the canvas as she says it, rubbing the material between her fingers. If it can't be repaired they can finish the job Blunder started, turn it into scraps for tying things together. It can still be useful.

For now, it's gonna be ground cover for the base of the tent that doesn't have an impromptu skylight. It's so mucky out here.

"Help me with this," is directed at Clarisse, as is tossing over a guyline.

"No, I don't snore," Benedict scoffs, abruptly lifting his face from his hands, unable to keep the sneer from his face at this terrible but likely inevitable idea. He folds his arms, giving himself a few minutes to sulk properly as he watches the girls be industrious.

"Should just make a new one out of Blunder," he grumbles.

"Hey, shut up." Clarisse almost adds that it's not Blunder's fault, but decides at the last nanosecond that this might be what sends Benedict over the edge. Besides, this is absolutely Blunder's fault.

She goes about helping Abby set up the remaining tent, but can't resist adding, "Besides, that sounds juuust like what someone who snores would say." Hope Benedict is ready for a fun night! And however many nights it takes them to get back to Kirkwall after that!

"He definitely snores," Abby says grimly to Clarisse, but grins at Benedict to show him that she's just joking. He's already on edge about having to camp out in the mud, they shouldn't rile him up beyond the point of no return...

Actually, to that point, "Did you bring anything to smoke with you?"

Maybe they should hot box the tent.

"I don't--" Benedict is in the middle of grousing when Abby asks another question, and he peers up from his sulk, watching her calculatingly.

"--yes,"

Benedict might or might not snore, but does he roll around and slap people in his sleep? Because Clarisse does that. Don't tell her, though, she'll get offended.

"Great!" she says, because she honestly, truly believes that being high will improve this situation by... a lot. "We can play truth or dare." What else are they gonna do before they go to sleep? Clarisse had sort of planned on having the tent and Abby to herself, but now that's out, so she's improvising here.

[closed] The Great Nerd Hunt

In Which ABC Camp and Travel and Are Stupid

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