electrifying evenings [ owen / open ]

[Payton Reyer]

Of course he couldn't sleep. It was becoming a frequent occurrence as of late. It seemed that everytime he could sleep, it involved nightmares, or tension. Tonight, it seemed like he just wouldn't be able to sleep no matter how hard he tried. Between Becky's attempt to wipe his mind at sunset, his discussions with Owen, the gargoyle, the Shadow Clan, the Light Brigade, Chaos... Nope. Sleep just wasn't coming. So, although another had offered to take first watch, Payton decided to stay downstairs. His night wanderings had taken him to the kitchen in particular. Unbeknownst to him, the kitchen had been a hotbed of activity just a couple of hours previously, but frankly, he just wanted to see if he could get something to drink. Chocolate milk had been his favourite back on Earth, but he highly doubted that they would have chocolate syrup, let alone milk at three in the morning. If it was three in the morning. It was hard to tell without a watch on him, and his cell-phone was dead after four days of traveling this world.

He eventually found a bit of fruit, something he thought was crab apples perhaps, and assumed it would be safe if it were in a kitchen. He grabbed a knife off the counter and started chopping them into slices on the countertop. Then, he started looking around the open cupboards for a plate. He found them... about two shelves up.

"... of course." He wearily mumbled. He really wasn't in the mood to do 'the climb', as the short man had come to call it, but he was the one who sliced it up without checking where the plates were. He moved the slices to the side, used his arms to boost his leg up onto the countertop, kneeled on the countertop, and that was how he was when he was interrupted. A small, tired boy, reaching for a plate, kneeling on a countertop. Comical, yet kind of sad.

Owen

[Owen]

Owen was sitting leaned up against the wall of the group's shared room. He'd been stuck in one of his processing moods again for a while, that zone his mind wanders into when it has the free time. Thinking things over. For the last few... Days? Weeks? How long had they even been here, away from Earth...
... Ah, tangents again. He had to stop doing that. Right. Last few days had been a bit of a rush. In the past day alone, the things that had just happened to him were crazy enough; Finding out the truth about these portals and going back and forth through time to more-or-less "Set right what once went/will go wrong"; Getting ambush-conversation'd by Steel, Ruckus, and their shadow-using friends; That encounter with the big shiny electric Not!Godzilla and the ghost beforehand.
... Losing the Sword...
He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, rubbing the bridge of his nose. That didn't matter right now. Jean had it for the moment, and he could competently wield it, he reasoned. Besides, the Sword himself said that if he couldn't stand to wield it, to give it to somebody who could and leave. That was one half done already. He huffed, looking up at the ceiling contemplatively; While he almost missed having little snippets of dialogue with the Sword, it was still all too nice to have his head clear again. To think. To mull things over. To ruminate on all the goings-on around hi-
Okay, no, this was getting irritating as all Hell. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he'd almost gotten... Used to having Morgan and the Sword in his head, giving colour commentary and play-by-play instructions. And now they decided to vacate the premises? On top of the strange, new, third, Female voice he'd heard earlier. The one that was beckoning him to come outside. That one... He didn't miss hearing so much, even if she did have kind of a nice voice...

"... Gah. How bloody long's it even been since I've had food." The beleaguered Ex-Swordsman put his deep, existential introspecting on hold for the moment, running his hands through his hair. He decided it'd probably be a good idea to go get something to snack on - Maybe then he could just sit down for a nap. Maybe have a bite with whoever was on wat-
'... Oh yeah. Payton's probably still down there. He mentioned somethin' about answerin' questions and all earlier. Hm. Food...' He physically held out a hand, palm-up, 'Answers...' Another hand held out. '... Huh, two stones with one bird. Why not!' Nodding triumphantly to himself, he stood up and, as quietly as he could still wearing his assortment of leather and metal pointy-slashy things, made his way down the stairs.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. "As quietly as he could" doesn't necessarily mean he was putting every effort into being sneaky. A few seconds later, he was down in the bar part of the inn-tavern-thing, making his way to the kitchen. At being greeted with the actually-kinda-funny sight of the short techy guy perched on the counter to get at stuff, he had to stifle a chuckle. '... Goddamn it, Owen, don't laugh. Don't... Pfft.' He managed to tactfully reel in his laughter, quietly - Actually legitimately quietly this time - Sneak into the kitchen, and rap his knuckles against the counter top.
"Y'know, you could've just come and asked for some help with that..." He looks around, eyebrow cocked, grin plastered across his face, "Or gotten a stool. I swear, it's getting harder and harder to keep from callin' you "Fullmetal", Payton."

[Payton Reyer]

Payton grabbed the plate, and the only sign he showed of surprise was slamming it down on the counter a little too hard. He turned his head to look at Owen, at a loss for words for a few moments, and then he tried to plaster a grin on his face. "Don't give me ideas. Sometimes the thought of a mechanical arm that I can turn into a blade at will doesn't seem too bad." He seemed to be dodging the fact that he was also short and feisty. He placed his palms down on the countertop and swung his legs down to land soundlessly on his feet. He then took the apple slices, placed them on the plate and held the plate to him.

"You should probably be asleep, you know. No point in having two of us up." He grabbed a slice and popped it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully. "On the other hand," he said, his voice slightly garbled by food, "we gotta stay up tomorrow night, so maybe sleeping during the day is a good idea." He swallowed and looked up the seven inches at Owen.

"So, why are you up, anyway?"

Owen

[Owen]

"Hm. Didn't anybody ever tell you it's rude to talk with your mouth full?" Owen punctuates this remark by giving Payton a little poke on the forehead, while grabbing a slice of apple and starting to munch on it out out of sheer habit. Without missing a beat, he starts getting to the explaining... While still chewing his food. "I sorta realized I haven't eaten much since we've gotten here!... Er, to Harpeah, I mean, not just here in the Desert," he motions to the inn with his hands, letting out a little laugh, "So I figured I'd head down here and grab a bite or somethin'. That, and I'm already sort of a night-owl by nature..."

He hops up onto the countertop to take a seat, giving a little one-armed shrug. Another habit of his. "... And I've been kinda thinkin' about things. 'n stuff. And you said somethin' earlier about maybe explainin' some of those things," he reaches up to scratch at his chin in thought. "I s'pose a good place to start might be what that whole deal with the ghost-wench earlier was about. You said she was after me specifically, 'cause I was easy to lure away. Right?" He leans back a little in his semi-comfy new sitting position, idly crossing his arms. "... She was talkin' to me - At me? - In here. She was in my head, Payton. Like Morgan, or like the Sword. And Morgan wasn't sayin' jack."