SWC #6: Oddball and Peril

I'm very untimely when replying to comments. *hides face* I don't even know why. I love all your comments. You, people, are awesome! 

Okay, this prompt fit an Oddball scene I had in mind. But-

It's in Peril's POV. I'll try to keep it as unconfusing as possible. 

*frowns at Oddball* What are you laughing at?

Oddball: I'm sorry. What were you saying earlier today? 'Peril is the definition of inconsistent'?

Why are- You know, what? Just read the script. 

(If you want to join the link up, it's here! It's due today actually. . . )

Peril felt a presence close to her. Oddball leaned toward her with a tin cup. She took it and smiled. 

"Maybe this gas burner wasn't such a bad idea after all," Oddball said. 

Peril held the cup close and breathed in the bitter smell of coffee. Wonderful. 

He poured himself a cup and sat back against the rocks. The small gas burner was the only light in the dark cave, but she was pretty certain that he stared at her. 

Oh, he expected her to reply! Right. Of course. 

"You still would teased Rocky about bringing it anyways." She sipped the coffee tentatively. It was still too hot. 

Oddball shrugged. He offered her some jerk and she shook her head. She wasn't really hungry. 

He made a face after swallowing some. "You know, Rocky could live off this stuff?"

"I believe it." She laughed and then stopped. She sounded almost rational. Nothing like the persona she had created for herself. She glanced at Oddball. 

"Can you remember the last time we had a real meal?" he asked. It seems he didn't notice. Though stopping mid-laugh would be something weird that her persona would've done. So maybe he wouldn't have noticed. Or maybe he was just hungry, with all his talk of food.

"At Hawk's," Peril said. "During Christmas?"

Oddball rubbed his chin. "Is potluck a real meal?"
 

"I don't remember," she said, "what is a real meal again?"

Oddball laughed. She was glad he was smiling. He hadn't done much of that when they were in the Border. But here they were lost in some cave in the Labyrinth and out of all the people in the world, Oddball smiled. She wished she knew how to make him smile more often. 

But right now, she didn't feel much like smiling herself. She didn't really know why. But she had to, right? That was her mask.

"I remember," Oddball shifted on the cave floor so that his elbows were propped on his knees, "when I was really, really young-"

"Because you're just so old now," Peril tried to put more quirk into what she said.

Oddball chuckled, "Yeah, something like that. . . We would eat tree mussel stew." He stared at the ground. "It was the best. And my mother would make it."

Peril sat forward. This stew sounded disgusting. But Oddball never talked about his parents. Never about himself. She kind of hoped he would go on. Just out of curiosity. But he fell silent again.

She wanted to prod him, yet she felt it was always a sensitive subject. His past in the Border. Of course, the mask she had created for herself was supposed to be oblivious and unintuitive. The mask would ask. If she cared anything about self preservation, she would ask.

"What's your favorite meal?" Oddball asked a little awkardly.

"This right here." Peril held up her mug and took a swallow. The coffee was cool enough now. Just the smell of it made her more herself. 

Oddball shook his head. "Like you need more energy."

Actually, it had the opposite effect on her. She could focus better. She wasn't so scatter-brained. She was more herself. Peril looked down into her cup. Which wasn't exactly a good thing. 

Oddball sighed. He actually tried to a conversation with her. She wasn't sure why. Worse, he had to drag words from her. Usually it would've been the other way around. Peril would make a general nuisance of herself, jump around, and ask wild questions while Oddball would grumble something about too many questions and her always causing trouble. 

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Peril shook her head. "Yeah, I'm good." She gave him a wide grin, but he only squinted at her in the darkness. 

Never before had she wished so much to be alone. Where no one could see her. Where she could just be herself in peace for two seconds. She didn't even know what herself was like. She glanced at Oddball. A part of her just wanted to tell him, to be able to be herself. And a part of her was scared out of her mind to do so.

"Are you sure?" he asked again. Surely, he'd understand, right?

"Yes. I'm just tired is all." She put the tin cup on the ground. She had enough of that. "I'll just turn in for the night." She left to the corner where she had placed her bedroll, and she didn't look back. 

It was the coffee, not Oddball, that always let her guard down. It was the Shamdram military and going back to the wretched asylum that she feared most, not Oddball seeing who she really was. 

source

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Well, that was terrible. Although it is 3:30 am. . .I'm not even going to try to edit.

If you are officially confused, I apologize.