Camp Half-Blood: Into the Storm - Closed!

[indigo']

[✩] Augusta Reynolds|17|she/her|Hades|Head counsellor|Cabin 13|tags:Orin

Auggie rolled her eyes at his dramatics, clearly wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. "Good to know I'll be on your mind when the end comes," she muttered sarcastically, a flash of amusement in her eyes. She looked over when he talked about bringing her to Ireland, clearly quite amused by his own idea. "You've got—" Her face twisted in confusion as she attempted to decipher the string of Irish slang he'd just thrown at her. "I don't know what any of the words you just said meant and I'm not sure I want to," she decided finally.

"We'll see how noble you find the bagpipes when they're following you around, playing non-stop, twenty four hours a day for the rest of your life," she replied smugly. "You'd lose it in the first hour, I guarantee."

She frowned in confusion when he cut himself off abruptly, barely having a moment to consider what he'd been going to say before he was blabbering on again. She rolled her eyes, though she didn't look nearly as annoyed as she usually did when interacting with literally anyone at camp. She was actually almost amused by his nonsensical rambling, not that she'd tell him that.

"I'm sure there'd be plenty of candidates up for that. Maybe you should give your resume to the Aphrodite cabin and they could round them up for you." She heard the implications of what she'd said a beat too late, face flushing slightly as she realized her words were more of a compliment than she'd intended. “Wait, I meant—I’m not—“ She stumbled across her words in a panic for a moment before changing the subject entirely, acting as if nothing had happened as she stared up at the ceiling, stubbornly avoiding his gaze.

"Good, I hope you are," she said in response to his claims of being offended. "That was my intention. That is always my intention." Her expression was forcefully cold, still avoiding his face, but she struggled to suppress the laughter in her voice at his over-exaggerated vexation.

[sammy,]

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𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗 '𝚕𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚢' 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗
cabin 13
zeus - counselor
mentioned: auggie
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"you know how, when you die, you have those seven minutes where you still have brain activity? where the whole 'life flashing before your eyes' thing comes from? i think mine's just gonna be a loop of you saying that, over and over and over and over -" he trailed off, still mouthing the words. "and over again." and when her confusion became as clear as day, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself. "that's the best bit. you'll be absolutely flummoxed. i can see it now. it'd be - god, it'd be nuclear."

maybe it was a bit foolish to plan for a trip to his hometown while everything seemed to be at stake - counting his chickens before his eggs had hatched, really - but it was nice to pretend. "nah, i'd love it. it'd give me all the power in the world. eventually, i'd learn to tune it out, and the real fun would begin. 'cos i'd just follow you around, and you'd have to reap the seeds that you'd sown. marching two paces behind you for two hours a day. just enough to drive you off your rocker, but not long enough that you'd get accustomed to it. that's what i'd do. if i was evil. i think i'm on the wrong side."

his eyebrows rose a smidge when she mentioned the aphrodite cabin. it wasn't quite what he had had in mind, and the concept seemed appalling. "is that right? i mean, i didn't think that i was that desirable. you've given me proper food for thought, there," an over-the-top look of ponderance before he shook his head. "nah. i pretend that i'm the best thing since sliced bread, but i don't actually believe it. half of those lot, they - they really think that. and the other half -" he thought to ophelia, specifically. "i think they'd see my guts spilt before something like that." absently, he scratched his chin. "i know what you meant," there was a more serious tone in there, somewhere. "but - you know. i see two people in here that could probably do with some ambrosia, and two people in here that would rather keel over and die before they admit it. so - you know, do with that what you will."

"if your intention is always acts of stereotyping and xenophobia against the irish, then i understand why you don't like the bagpipes. you'd probably fit in more with the limeys over the sea," he feigned further offence, but finally broke. "ah, i can't pretend to stay upset. it'd just please you."

-

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𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚜
dining hall
aphrodite
mentioned: ophelia,
aydan
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there was a bit too much jauntiness in the tone of ophelia, almost as though she was trying to make up for something - keep up the appearances of the happy tour guide while the world was burning outside. celeste was out of her time, but she wasn't dense, and though she appreciated the movement of wilful ignorance, it was going to be a topic she asked about later. there were threats that she had never encountered, for reasons unbeknownst to her, outside the barriers of the camp. threats that moss had described with beads of sweat on his brow and a tremor in his voice. it may have just been a touch of the dramatic from the satyr, but that kind of fear was something that she tended to listen to. the afraid were often the most honest of the lot. "excellent," she settled for saying, catching a brief moment of awkwardness between ophelia and aydan when he ventured to give her a nickname. there was some kind of haze around the two of them, intoxicating and thick, but she couldn't quite grasp the facts of it. with a mental promise to figure it out later, she pushed it away.

"oh," she let out as she realised the child of khione would not be joining them. "i hope to speak with you again soon, aydan. i'm sure we will figure out this place together at some point." the niceties were a touch for show, but never wasted. she hadn't managed to gauge the boy yet - keeping him at a reasonable level was most desirable.

she followed when ophelia began to walk, looking around as she saw fit. these were grounds that she would come to know like the back of her hand, certainly. "twenty-five?" she was uncertain whether that was a big or a small number, given the teeming numbers of the mess hall. "so a lot of people come here? is it always this busy?"
the pink door stuck out like sore thumb against the bone-white landscape. "quaint," she noted. "i like the colour. pink never suited me. my mother said that it made me look sallow." she caught the mistake moments after it left her lips. not her mother, not technically - she had always known the fact, but now it seemed even more obvious. "i'm sure that if we have enough time, we can alter the design a bit. if that's something that you would be interested in." the thought was a nice one - focusing on the little problems like interior decorating rather than the ill-timed weather. "is there anything i should know? any secrets that are being kept for the sake of my sanity? i've heard it all today - it would be a good time to bring up something shocking."

[*Lovel*]

Emerson "Emmie" Tags: Reese Location: arena

Emerson was glad he agreed to ice cream, it had always helped her when she was feeling upset and overwhelmed. She smiled genuinely as he became more enthusiastic about getting ice cream. "We'll go in Bonnie and Clyde style." she said making her hands into a gun before hooking her arm through his, her smile widening. "Natasha Romanoff? Does that make you Clint Barton?" she asked him with a light laugh.

She was happy he seemed to not hold a grudge. She didn't want him to harbor any bad feelings of her and visa versa. Especially if it was just over a boy.

Aydan Tags: Ophelia and Celeste》》 Open Location: Dining Pavilion

Aydan noticed her smile fade when he called her Lia. He frowned, hopefully he didn't upset her with the nickname. He'd have to think of a new one eventually but until then probably best not to use Lia. He saw her take a quick peek as he stretched, his cheeks were suddenly burning and he hoped he didn't look as flushed as he felt. He quickly dropped his arms to his sides as he looked away shyly. Why did he act this way around her?

At Ophelia's request to stay and watch Mira's belongings he remembered he had to stay and present the information from his dream. "Sure! I forgot I have to tell the questers about my dream anyway.
I'll find you guys once the meetings over. It was nice meeting you Celeste, I look forward to touring around with you." he said. Ophelia smiled at him again but this smile was different, larger, he couldn't help but love the smile and wish to see it more. He gave her one in return but his was more nervous.

He wasn't a fan of public speaking so his nerves about telling everyone about his dream was getting to him. He watched as the girls walked away and sat back down once he couldn't see them anymore. He pulled Mira's things closer to him as he waited for her to return and the meeting to start.

[indigo']

[✩] Augusta Reynolds|17|she/her|Hades|Head counsellor|Cabin 13|tags:Orin

Auggie shook her head, letting out a dramatic sigh as he continued to repeat his words. “I could live to be a hundred and I will never regret anything more than that word coming out of my mouth in your presence. Nothing. Nothing will ever be worse than that.”

She scowled when he appeared to be delighted by her bewilderment over whatever it was he’d just said. ”I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of that. I’d just act like I knew what everyone was saying and make up some bull, acting like I knew what I was saying and nobody would be able to tell the difference.” That wasn’t entirely truthful, she was good at lying and she was good at keeping it together when she didn’t know what was going on, but she hated being confused or out of the loop. Truthfully, she’d probably get frustrated and pick a fight with some random person on the street, but the idea was amusing nevertheless.

“That’s…” she trailed off, having been on the verge of uttering the childish excuse of something not being ‘fair’. ”Actually, that’s pretty devious. Maybe I should enlist your help in getting Reese back.” Her words were accompanied by a crooked smile that showed she was not really praising him, but attempting to mock him with her surprise at the idea. ”You want me to call up the bad guys? I’m sure they’d really appreciate the help from you and your bagpipe music.”

She continued to glower upwards at his rambling, though she was silently grateful for his narcissistic attitude and the fact that he hadn’t seemed to take her statement too seriously. “Gee, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to spill your guts,” she said, tone dripping with sarcasm as she harkened back to their interaction in the woods where she had seemingly attempted to do just that.

“Speak for yourself, I feel great. I’ve never felt better. I’m getting used to the throbbing in my head now, I’m just imagining it’s a drumbeat. Now I don’t need headphones to block people out.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, in all honesty she didn’t feel great. Not only was her head pounding, but she was still exhausted from her lack of sleep and over exertion beating up Reese and the tree. Crap, she realized suddenly that she hadn’t actually asked anyone to fix up the tree. Now she’d have to worry about that dryad too. ”Do dryads hold grudges?” She muttered, her airy tone suggesting that she was mostly speaking to herself, not fully aware that she’d spoken the words aloud.

The Iris message situation had taken a lot out of her as well. Her throat still had that ache that comes after crying, but she was doing her best to ignore the feeling.

“I didn’t say my intention was insulting the Irish, I said my intention was insulting you, and aren’t bagpipes Scottish?” She looked over finally when he caved, giving a smile full of sweetness and innocence that was clearly all fake, the expression seeming out of place on her. ”It would,” she agreed, the pure tone of her voice a drastic contrast to the meaning of her words.

[WitchHazel]

(For sunhorse, here's indigo's post!)

[➳]Caleb Thomas|18|he/him|Athena|dining pavilion|Tags:Satchi

It seemed that his appearance had caught the girl by surprise, as her gaze snapped up to meet his quickly, though she didn’t seem too shaken as she returned his smile. He nodded, noticing the uncertainty in her tone as she spoke his name. “You got it,” he confirmed. “Though I can’t really blame you for being unsure, I’ve been called plenty of other things. Captain America actually, just now. That was a good one.” He nodded to himself, before his mind and unruly ego were brought back to the conversation at hand.

He nodded at her response to the question, easily hiding his disappointment that he hadn’t found somebody whom he could question about prophetic dreams. “I’m not either, couldn’t possibly risk messing up all this on some larking escapade,” he said, gesturing to his face. “Thought I’d sit in on the meeting though...see what’s going on. If it ever starts that is.” He added, glancing back around the pavilion. He spotted Aiden standing with Jamie, who he believed was from the Iris cabin. They both seemed to be carrying bags, clearly ready to go. There was still no sign of Chiron though, and he wondered where the centaur had gotten off to.

(For Kestrel, here's Zahra!)
|⊙|Zahra Al-Amin|217/Looks 32|She/They|Magician; Eye of Sekhmet|Location: Cabins Area|Tags: Jay|

"Set is the least of our worries," Zahra murmured aloud. "Though that is valuable information nonetheless. Judging from past events, he wishes not for the destruction of the world any more than we do. If we can get him and his host to help, we may just have a chance. A tiny chance, but a chance. If anybody knows chaos, it is him." She fixed the girl with a warm yet piercing stare. "Do you know where to find the Host of Set? I would normally sense him, but there is chaos energy everywhere that is here." She gestured around them for emphasis. "In addition to him, we need Anubis. The entire Duat will soon be decimated - or worse, consumed, if we do not act against the Ogdoad."

[KestrelTheFirecat]

Jay tags zahara

Jay nods and says “I think I do” she look up and runs her fingers through her black hair and says “we are more than ok to help!”

[sammy,]

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𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗 '𝚕𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚢' 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗
cabin 13
zeus - counselor
mentioned: auggie
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"spooktacles," orin muttered to himself, looking rather satisfied with the whole ordeal. "you've made me very happy there. a very happy chappy."

a solid shake of his head when auggie began to explain how she would get away with her conceptual confusion. "i'd know, though. in here," he pressed his finger to the centre of his chest. "i'd know that you were fibbing. pretending. and that would be satisfaction enough. the boys would love it." the mention of them, of the people he loved back home, brought a pang to the heart that he was directing his pointing toward. he missed them. it was going to be a while before - if - he'd be able to see them again - especially with what he knew, the information he was keeping up his sleeve for no other reason than to pretend it was not truly happening. he wondered what they were thinking. if he turned on the phone that was burning a hole in his pocket, he'd probably find texts from some of them, the ones who truly knew who - what - he was. would they believe the politician? surely not. he hoped not. "i'd be good for their team morale." he said regarding the 'bad guys'. "maybe i will. sod this place. i'm off to cause problems on a massive scale." of course, he didn't mean it. there were too many variables, too many things stopping him.

"i know. i'm just - i'm just so likeable. people throw roses at my feet," he commented sardonically. "they could use 'em to tell the future." he rubbed his face absently, the mention of her head 'throbbing' coinciding with the sparks of sharp pain that came with each disturbance of the disturbed skin. "is that right?" he asked. "'cos i think you'd have to have a bit more than a bash to the head to block me out. i'm persistent." on dryads, he wasn't quite sure. "depends, i think. how bad did you do the tree? it's like stabbing a voodoo doll."

"acting like i'm a trickster is an insult to my nationality," he said. "yeah, they're scottish. but i like the scots. us celts have to stick together lest the romans descend." slowly, he sat up. his mind had wandered too far for a bit too long, and as nice as it was to pretend there was nothing happening, no secrets that he was sitting on, it was to his detriment. "i'm stalling, aren't i? putting off the big problem," a pause. "if you knew something before everyone else, something that would probably... stress everyone out, in a time of already really great stress, would you say it?" it was a genuine question. he didn't know. "i feel like i'm gonna be the shot messenger. karma, though, really. i broke a rule and i'm reaping the consequences." a low, rumbling noise that culminated from the back of his throat, not dissimilar to a growl.

[indigo']

[✩] Augusta Reynolds|17|she/her|Hades|Head counsellor|Cabin 13|tags:Orin

Auggie raised an eyebrow at his claim that he’d still be amused if she pretended to know what was going on. She wasn’t used to not winning arguments, but he was making it very difficult here. The mention of ‘the boys’ made her wonder. It was difficult enough dealing with everything going on without having to deal with friends and family outside of camp. She didn’t have anyone back home to worry about, everyone she knew was here. Except for her—the thought hit her like a knife to the chest, the reminder of what had happened quickly bringing her back to reality. Everyone she knew was here. She hadn’t always been the stereotypical ‘loner with no friends.’ There had been one person who she actually cared about, who she thought might’ve actually cared about her. But that had been a long time ago and she doubted they even remembered her.

”You’re already doing that, but go for it,” she muttered. Part of her wondered what it would be like to just switch sides, decide that you weren’t going to fight for demigods but against them. She’d switched to the winning side plenty of times in school sports games, saw that her team wasn’t doing well and used her powers to slip over to the other side without anyone noticing. It probably wouldn’t be that simple in real life, and the consequences would be a little more dire than a game of dodgeball.

The corner of her mouth quirked at his next comment. ”Well you’re still more likeable than me which...doesn’t say much actually but you know, you’ve got that going for you.” It wasn’t much by way of a compliment, especially considering she actively tried to make people hate her, or at least she said she did.

“You are,” she agreed at the mention of him being persistent. “Maybe I should ask Reese to hit me with a rock again. Give it some power this time, actually knock me out.” She was joking of course, but the idea of being unconscious at the moment actually felt like a good one. It would stop her from having to think about everything going on, at the very least would get rid of the ache in her head and muscles and let her rest for a bit.

She considered the question for a moment, trying to consider what she’d actually done to the tree. “I cut it up pretty bad...it wasn’t her tree though, just a tree.” She hadn’t really done any permanent damage, she thought. The cuts in the bark would grow over eventually, she hadn’t done anything worse than a very angry woodpecker could’ve done.

”Right,” she muttered, hesitating for a moment before sitting up. The ground wasn’t the most comfortable, but at least lying here didn’t require movement...or acknowledgement of everything happening around them. Reluctantly, she did, wincing at the increasing pain in her head and the slight spinning of the room around her. Blinking black spots from her vision from rising too quickly, she considered the question. “Yeah…” she answered slowly. “I mean, it’s obviously important if it’s gonna stress people out, right? If it wasn’t important they wouldn’t care. It’s not like it’s your fault that it’s happening…” She hesitated for a moment, giving him a look. ”Right?” She still didn’t know what exactly it was they were talking about, but it had to be pretty bad to stress him out like this.

“Everyone’s gonna find out eventually and isn’t it better that they find out sooner rather than later? We’re just going to have more problems later on, might as well get it over with now.” It wasn’t the most comforting or optimistic approach, but it was an honest one.

[Kveykva]

──── ＷｉｌｈｅｌｍxＷａｔｔｓｏｎ
【✦】| Hephaestus | 18 | Male | Dining Pavilion ➡ Forges | Tags: Kade
❝𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎❞

Wilhelm laughed softly, matching his visibly gentle nature. "Maybe, but don't put yer money on it. There's plenty th' Athena cabin is better at than mine. Usually, it's plannin' ahead." He added light-heartedly. Will double-checked that Kade was following before making his way down to the forges. The smell of ash and steel brought back a flood of memories, some more pleasant than others. He remembered his first summer when he was twelve. It was an awkward time, to be sure; Will had hit a colossal growth spurt, growing two inches in hardly a month. His voice had started to crack as it deepened, and none of it was conducive to "fitting in," even at a camp made for demigods. I've come a long way. He mused, lighting some tinder with a finger to start warming the forges. His eyes wandered to the lacquered wood case he'd left the night before; his birthday gift. "Mh, don't 'spose I'll get a chance t' show yer head counselor this 'fore he leaves. Damn shame, too. Y'all are always tellin' me I need th' right weapon to appreciate the fightin'."

──── Ｌｕｃｙ Ｂｌｉｔｚｅｎ
【✦】| Apollo | 16 | Female | ➡ Dining Pavilion | Tags: Hank
❝𝚒 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚛❞

Stunts? Internally, Lucy narrowed her eyes. He wants to keep the Apollo cabin off the quest. And understandably so, if she may add. Hank had what you would consider a "noble" reason for doing this, but it also worked to Lucy's advantage. With most of her own cabin remaining, her pull among the groups in Camp Half-Blood wouldn't degrade. Plus, with Mirabelle going on the quest, there was a chance Lucy could win some favor with the remaining Aphrodite campers. I wonder who she's made head counselor in her stead? If the daughter of Apollo had to guess, probably Ophelia. That spelled trouble, mind you. Lucy thrust her malevolent thoughts aside for now, tuning in as Hank asked his question. She dabbed the rest of her tears dry with a napkin, though a few still threatened to spill over. "Dreadfully dull," Lucy stuck out her tongue. "Lots of meetings and press conferences I was barred from attending. I spent a good deal of it either trapped inside or out and about with the Waddles. Atlanta was the worst, too. Mother sent me ahead of her back to New York so I'd make it to camp on time."

[sammy,]

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𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚗 '𝚕𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚢' 𝚐𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗
cabin 13
zeus - counselor
mentioned: auggie
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"i wouldn't say i'm causing that many problems," he muttered. "i think i could do a lot better than this. if i was trying to cause problems properly, then you would be - you would be absolutely flabbergasted,"

"me?" he laughed. "me, likeable?" orin shook his head. "no, no. no. you must be - you must be properly concussed. how hard did the rock hit you? you're all... you command respect. you've got a whole vibe going for you. even if people don't specifically like you, they've gotta have some kind of 'yeah, she's quite a beast' in them. meanwhile, people love to hate me. it really gets 'em going." he scrunched up his nose at the mere thought. "if he hits you with the rock again, maybe you'll come to your bleedin' senses."

orin didn't know dryads to hold grudges. not like demigods did, at least - they weren't the types to plot and scheme, but rather pull up roots or drop a branch once in a while. "you should be alright. might have to apologise. plant a sapling in respect, or something. or just sweet talk 'em. they're quite susceptible to that."

his hand fumbled toward his pocket, flipping the phone over in his hands a few times as auggie spoke. "it's not my fault," he laughed awkwardly. "i mean, i don't think so. but the domino effect's weird, isn't it? my birth might have accidentally led to this. i don't think it's my fault, anyway." a shaking breath in. "if i acknowledge it, then i'll have to acknowledge the... the rest of it. the repercussions that it'll have on - on me, on other people in the camp, and then it'll feel like my fault, 'cos i unearthed it. even though it's not. that doesn't make any sense, but it's - it's all i can think about," he looked at the black screen, his face reflected in the dark. "i can tell you. i can show you, if you want. you'll find out anyway. if you want. i don't wanna... i don't wanna stress you out. i might just go and throw it in chiron's direction and then run out, hope that he can figure out that my passcode is just one-one-one-one."

-

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𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚖 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗
new york
proxy of eris
mentioned: n/a
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never a quiet moment. that seemed to be the theme over the past couple of days for malcolm.
he had just finished collecting the glasses up, putting them on the tray with which they had been delivered unto him, when the blare of his phone in his pocket gave him a little jolt. not of fear - certainly not, but rather excitement.

steven's name was blared across the screen with an accompanying imperial march track to solidify the director of communications' identity. after a long, contented sigh, he hit the little green button and pressed the phone to his ear. "steve. sing me a song of a lad that is gone,"
"malcolm," the curt, formal reply. there was a catch in his voice over the line.
"good news?" he asked.
"call off the email. tell ben he doesn't have to step down. and - and - the plane thing..."
"there were terms that i wanted fulfilled. have you done what i asked?" his eyebrow crept up his forehead.
"dan's giving the statement to the bbc now. full support of you and your endeavours," an anxious breath. "just - just call all of that stuff off."
"i'll put it on the backburner," malcolm said. "see, that wasn't so hard, was it? you made it into much more of a circus than it had to be."
"how long?" it was harsh, but steve seemed to catch himself, and his next words were more controlled. "how long have you had this? how long have you been planning this? where did it even come from?"
"there are higher authorities than the prime minister, enticott. much higher authorities indeed," he said, fingers creeping across the burnished wood of the table. "but it's good. it's good that you're agreeing. makes it all a lot cleaner, don't you think? you get to be on the right side of history."
"is it? is it the right side? you're - you're actually - you're mad,"
"it's the winning side, steve," sudden monotony. "and it's going to stay that way. because if dan's out there, giving his little statement of support, then you've dug your own graves if you don't take the steps to make sure that it stays the winning side. you can call me mad to my face, steve, but i don't think that a bit of blackmail is going to hold up in an inquiry if this all goes pete tong."
"god help you,"
"that's goddess," he corrected. "and she's doing a brilliant job. i'll be in touch. toodle-oo."

he hung up. stretched. walked to the door and out of it, through to the hallways where an anxious-looking hicks had taken his station. when malcolm came into view, the guard straightened.
"sir," he said.
"can i trust you, daniel?" he asked bluntly.
a confused moment of silence. "um - yes, sir. of course,"
"are you sure?" malcolm took a deep breath in, smelling the air. "would you die for me?"
another shocked silence. "um... yes. if a situation called for it,"
"not even if it called for it. if i wanted you to die for me, would you die for me?"
"how would i go about doing that, sir?" a nervous chuckle.
"answer the question,"
"uh -" he wet his lips. "i've been told to follow orders. if that's what you wanted, then... i suppose... yes, i would." then, his eyes widened. "is that you ordering me to?"
"no. no. it's just hypothetical. if the situation calls for it. i just wanted your take on it. the man you met - made a poor first impression, by the way - he... he gave me some food for thought," he gave him a little smile. "don't worry, though. i said that i wanted you alive and well. so. there's a positive, eh?"
"he was threatening me?" hicks stammered.
"no! no, not threatening. god. nothing like that. it was just friendly conversation, you know?"
"and... and where is he now, sir?"
"gone back home, i suppose," he answered.
"i didn't see him leave,"
"no. fan of the dramatic exit, he is," malcolm said. "by the way - this... this 'sir' malarkey. i think... i think scrap it. malcolm's fine. malc, if you're feeling up to it. i've got to pop back, check the news, but... thank you. for clearing my mind."
"no problem, si-" he caught himself. "malcolm. no problem, malcolm."
"good man," malcolm turned to leave the man to his unrelenting confusion.