[ maybe a little ENCOURAGEMENT will help: carefully, Laurie unfurls herself like an insect, picks her way over sleeping bodies, maybe kicking Dwight in the ribs as she goes, and settles herself down in front of Steve. then, she just stares at him, unblinking, except that the campfire smoke gets in her eyes and stings a little too quickly.
at least she still has the courtesy not to speak: ]
im gonna sit here and stare at you until you shore up something good
( this is WORSE, Laurie, what the fuck! his expression says as much, who the hell just stares at a guy as he tries to write something?? nevermind that she was kinda watching him write things before, writing something that will be actually judged is Just Different. this is so ridiculous, to text, instead of talk! but nearly everyone seems to be in some stage of asleep, so... he doesn't feel like he can talk, either. )
You suck SO MUCH right now. ( Steve thumbs this with noted annoyance, lifted brows, and uncomfortable eye contact when he isn't fixed on getting the right letter. so Laurie gets how much he means it. )Fine. FINE. What kinda story?
[ in immediate retrospect this is in fact a little weird. the campfire, all the bodies, had been just as much of a buffer for Laurie as they had been for Steve. but she thinks the light must be falling on them so that her face isn't as brightly lit as his, that he won't have an up close and personal look at her fucked up face. the thought actually really wants to make Laurie lean back, but the jagged smirk stays frozen on her face.
she ends up relenting, turns her back on him so that she's looking at the campfire again. a little less pressure for both of them. ]
( it's Laurie's thing, to try and dig under the skin. it is beside the point to be gentle about it. if anything, Steve is surprised she relents — maybe she (rightly) guesses he won't be able to tell much of a story with eyeballs on him. but Laurie doesn't really do things to make him more comfortable, usually she seems happiest when she's on his last nerve. so who knows?
(he wouldn't have guessed it's to avoid him seeing her scars. she's gotta know he's seen those already... right?)
not looking at him is a net improvement, but Steve isn't sure he'll be able to tell much of a story even without eyeballs on him, either. he's not creative. he's not smart enough to think up something on the fly. it takes him so long to start she might think he won't, but he does. )
You ever think a place can get haunted? ( which is a great way to start if they were taking, out loud, campfire story style. they're not. so he has to awkwardly keep going without feedback. ) A bad thing happens there, and that's it. Suddenly the place itself is bad. Just waiting for the next bad thing.
I knew a place like that. It'd be easier, if it were far away. Like you could take a weird route, and not even have to see it. Or move to the other side of the country and you could almost pretend like you didn't know anymore. That it was a bad place, that it was waiting to take somebody else. But it wasn't far away, it was in my backyard. I know that sounds stupid, and maybe to you it is. I knew that it could kill somebody. It already did.
I had to live with it. Just outside the door. Reflecting on the wall when I was trying to sleep. It was always there. How are you gonna forget something you see every day? Sometimes I couldn't sleep, and that goddamn glow just made it worse. Like a neon sign in the dark. I would sleep with my bat and wait for something and nothing ever happened and waiting for nothing is worse than when there's something there. At least then you can fight back.
I used to think the worst part was nobody else got it. Nobody was scared, they wanted to go in and splash around and make jokes about skinny dipping. ... it was a pool, whatever, you could guess that, right? My mom would have parties and I'd spend all my time waiting for something bad to happen. Watching. So I'd be ready this time. Scaring kids out of the pool because what if it happened again?
( how long has he been typing this dumb "story"? is Laurie even paying attention, anymore? probably not. hopefully not, even. but it's sort of like the dam broke and everything is spilling all over, senseless and wild. no stopping it. )
Now I know that isn't the worst part. The worst part is what already happened, the too little too late shit. The worst is that she died and nobody knew and nobody even cared when it mattered. The worst part is I could stand guard by that fucking pool day and night and it wouldn't change anything. She's already dead and I didn't do anything to stop it. She's dead and the reminder was just sitting outside the patio doors, every single morning.
( how do you end a story? does this even count as a story, really? )
I don't know if it's really cursed. Nothing else ever happened. But I've been in this shithole years or something, so who knows? Maybe it's been in overtime, taking people right and left, now that nobody's watching.
I don't think so, though. It was just the once, random and fast and no goddamn warning. But it'll never be over because I'll never forget that it happened, not even if I wanted to.
[ um. well. be careful for what you wish for. the messages just keep coming; from the corner of her eye, Laurie can see Steve's fingers going at the screen, tap tap tapping fairly adept for someone plucked from the 1980s. who says you can't teach an old dog new tricks?
for awhile, she doesn't really follow. when he says it's a pool - that helps. it becomes a lot more coherent then, but it's a long story, and she really hadn't expected Steve to humor her, let alone tell her something like this.
Laurie isn't the most coherent person in the world, not anymore. but at some point, she gets the feeling that this might not be something that he's made up off the top of his head, because ... it would be a lot more meandering, right? and then he says I've been in this shithole years or something and obviously that confirms it, and Laurie stares at the bright little screen, trapped by the heat of the fire and the warmth of Steve next to her.
( it feels so wrong, to laugh. it is a little wrong. brittle, half rusted over, like he knows he shouldn't. hopefully it doesn't wake anybody up? Jeff is still snoring, so, he's probably good. )
Demogorgon. Through the pool. Don't ask me why, I still don't know.
[ the laugh is a good sign, and Steve doesn't get up and storm off or anything, so. another good sign. Laurie, for her part, doesn't elbow him in the ribs for making undue noise. ]
well
if its here w you and me and your annoying gf
then its not eating people in your pool anymore right
( at all? to anyone? Steve can tell things didn't go super well for Laurie, at home — and the behemoth in a rheumy white mask after her says a lot while saying nothing at all. still... nobody? )
My mom would. Unless the lab covered it up. Maybe that'd be better.
[ it is depressing and Laurie probably shouldn't have said anything at all but Steve, obviously loopy from lack of sleep, told her this sad ass story and she knows what it's like to lose friend(s), the sick burn of guilt. but it's kind of hard to articulate. ]
(don't think about it. well, if it makes Laurie feel better, 99.9998% of the time, Steve does make a point of not thinking about it. or talking about it! he's not sure it actually makes anything better, or easier. maybe not talking or thinking about it is what tore Nancy up inside, trying to be okay because he insisted they should be, when neither of them were.
he sighs. )
So are you tired or what? Scary stories never make me wanna sleep, you should have asked for a happy one.
[ way ahead of you, Steve; Laurie, whose eyelids had begun drooping while reading his story, leans her head against his shoulder and stifles a yawn, then taps out a one-handed message: ]
( that makes one of them. not thinking about it is a great suggestion, only it's too late, he made the crucial error of thinking about it, and you can't unthink things. you just gotta dwell on them awhile, pull it over and over in your head like it'll change something.
Steve was this close to suggesting they go put pull out the tape of the Clown's creepy VHS or hammer a couple of Trickster's stupid glass knives just for the distraction, because doing is better than thinking. and then Laurie's head lolls against his shoulder, more confirmation that she's barely holding on to coherent than the text really is.
she wouldn't lean on him if she was awake enough to think about it, he figures. she makes a point of not leaning on anybody. which he gets — or would get it, if it weren't for Dustin, and then Robin, and then the fog and Nancy and Jonathan and Quentin all the other survivors just trying to not entirely lose it, here. Steve's learned the value in having someone you can lean on, is the point.
and even if it's a half asleep decision, and she might elbow him in the gut when she wakes up and realizes, Steve thinks Laurie could use someone to lean on. even just a little while.
he responds, but it is awkward texting with one hand because one arm is being dedicated to feral girl pillow. ) We're not talking. We're texting. ( okay grandpa. if that doesn't put her to sleep, what will. )
[ later, she'll find a way to blame it on Steve, or the collective exhaustion that had rolled through the campfire. maybe she'll even blame it on the Entity. either way, once she leans her head on Steve's shoulder, Laurie doesn't move, even though a) she knows she should and b) this bony jerk isn't all that comfortable. but the fire is warm on their faces and their fronts and Steve's warm in his own right, so even though the phone buzzes in her hand, alerting her that if she wants the last word she'd better lift the thing up and reply, Laurie stays put.
she's fucking tired. it's exhausting spending all of her energy trying to survive while simultaneously keeping everybody at arm's length. but it's what must be done. she'll be furious when she wakes up, mostly at herself, but for now, Laurie dozes off, the phone slipping from her hand into the dirt, hair catching the light of the fire like a wild halo around her head. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2022-12-08 05:52 pm (UTC)well maybe if its good enough or boring enough i'll fall asleep and then you can fall asleep
duh
no subject
Date: 2022-12-09 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-12-09 02:57 pm (UTC)at least she still has the courtesy not to speak: ]
im gonna sit here and stare at you until you shore up something good
no subject
Date: 2022-12-19 03:16 am (UTC)You suck SO MUCH right now. ( Steve thumbs this with noted annoyance, lifted brows, and uncomfortable eye contact when he isn't fixed on getting the right letter. so Laurie gets how much he means it. ) Fine. FINE. What kinda story?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-24 11:24 am (UTC)she ends up relenting, turns her back on him so that she's looking at the campfire again. a little less pressure for both of them. ]
tell me a horror story
no subject
Date: 2022-12-25 02:54 pm (UTC)(he wouldn't have guessed it's to avoid him seeing her scars. she's gotta know he's seen those already... right?)
not looking at him is a net improvement, but Steve isn't sure he'll be able to tell much of a story even without eyeballs on him, either. he's not creative. he's not smart enough to think up something on the fly. it takes him so long to start she might think he won't, but he does. )
You ever think a place can get haunted? ( which is a great way to start if they were taking, out loud, campfire story style. they're not. so he has to awkwardly keep going without feedback. ) A bad thing happens there, and that's it. Suddenly the place itself is bad. Just waiting for the next bad thing.
I knew a place like that. It'd be easier, if it were far away. Like you could take a weird route, and not even have to see it. Or move to the other side of the country and you could almost pretend like you didn't know anymore. That it was a bad place, that it was waiting to take somebody else. But it wasn't far away, it was in my backyard. I know that sounds stupid, and maybe to you it is. I knew that it could kill somebody. It already did.
I had to live with it. Just outside the door. Reflecting on the wall when I was trying to sleep. It was always there. How are you gonna forget something you see every day? Sometimes I couldn't sleep, and that goddamn glow just made it worse. Like a neon sign in the dark. I would sleep with my bat and wait for something and nothing ever happened and waiting for nothing is worse than when there's something there. At least then you can fight back.
I used to think the worst part was nobody else got it. Nobody was scared, they wanted to go in and splash around and make jokes about skinny dipping. ... it was a pool, whatever, you could guess that, right? My mom would have parties and I'd spend all my time waiting for something bad to happen. Watching. So I'd be ready this time. Scaring kids out of the pool because what if it happened again?
( how long has he been typing this dumb "story"? is Laurie even paying attention, anymore? probably not. hopefully not, even. but it's sort of like the dam broke and everything is spilling all over, senseless and wild. no stopping it. )
Now I know that isn't the worst part. The worst part is what already happened, the too little too late shit. The worst is that she died and nobody knew and nobody even cared when it mattered. The worst part is I could stand guard by that fucking pool day and night and it wouldn't change anything. She's already dead and I didn't do anything to stop it. She's dead and the reminder was just sitting outside the patio doors, every single morning.
( how do you end a story? does this even count as a story, really? )
I don't know if it's really cursed. Nothing else ever happened. But I've been in this shithole years or something, so who knows? Maybe it's been in overtime, taking people right and left, now that nobody's watching.
I don't think so, though. It was just the once, random and fast and no goddamn warning. But it'll never be over because I'll never forget that it happened, not even if I wanted to.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 01:48 am (UTC)for awhile, she doesn't really follow. when he says it's a pool - that helps. it becomes a lot more coherent then, but it's a long story, and she really hadn't expected Steve to humor her, let alone tell her something like this.
Laurie isn't the most coherent person in the world, not anymore. but at some point, she gets the feeling that this might not be something that he's made up off the top of his head, because ... it would be a lot more meandering, right? and then he says I've been in this shithole years or something and obviously that confirms it, and Laurie stares at the bright little screen, trapped by the heat of the fire and the warmth of Steve next to her.
it's a lot to process for her brain, truly. ]
the pool ate your friend?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 02:00 am (UTC)Demogorgon. Through the pool. Don't ask me why, I still don't know.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 02:16 am (UTC)well
if its here w you and me and your annoying gf
then its not eating people in your pool anymore right
at least you can focus on that
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 02:31 am (UTC)You think that's how it works? We're all just gone and things go on without us?
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 04:18 pm (UTC)idk
doesnt really matter for my life but im sure your parents miss you
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 06:24 pm (UTC)( at all? to anyone? Steve can tell things didn't go super well for Laurie, at home — and the behemoth in a rheumy white mask after her says a lot while saying nothing at all. still... nobody? )
My mom would. Unless the lab covered it up. Maybe that'd be better.
...Jesus, this is depressing.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 07:41 pm (UTC)yup. doesnt matter
sorry
just dont think about it
whats the point
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 09:34 pm (UTC)he sighs. )
So are you tired or what? Scary stories never make me wanna sleep, you should have asked for a happy one.
no subject
Date: 2022-12-26 09:52 pm (UTC)tired as hell but you keep talking
[ :) ]
🎀 here? or you could wrap on yours?
Date: 2022-12-26 11:14 pm (UTC)Steve was this close to suggesting they go put pull out the tape of the Clown's creepy VHS or hammer a couple of Trickster's stupid glass knives just for the distraction, because doing is better than thinking. and then Laurie's head lolls against his shoulder, more confirmation that she's barely holding on to coherent than the text really is.
she wouldn't lean on him if she was awake enough to think about it, he figures. she makes a point of not leaning on anybody. which he gets — or would get it, if it weren't for Dustin, and then Robin, and then the fog and Nancy and Jonathan and Quentin all the other survivors just trying to not entirely lose it, here. Steve's learned the value in having someone you can lean on, is the point.
and even if it's a half asleep decision, and she might elbow him in the gut when she wakes up and realizes, Steve thinks Laurie could use someone to lean on. even just a little while.
he responds, but it is awkward texting with one hand because one arm is being dedicated to feral girl pillow. ) We're not talking. We're texting. ( okay grandpa. if that doesn't put her to sleep, what will. )
🎀
Date: 2022-12-29 03:25 pm (UTC)she's fucking tired. it's exhausting spending all of her energy trying to survive while simultaneously keeping everybody at arm's length. but it's what must be done. she'll be furious when she wakes up, mostly at herself, but for now, Laurie dozes off, the phone slipping from her hand into the dirt, hair catching the light of the fire like a wild halo around her head. ]