Burning the Cards of Fate

Feeling:
angry

who: brett and eris
where: the middle of nowhere
when: early evening

Eris had seen the trench in the muddy, rocky terrain up ahead for some time...but that didn't mean it was any less disheartening when they finally got over to it. Their slow going was in fact, slower than usual, tedious as hell, and she was pretty sure she'd die for a hot bath around now, and a bottle of anything that could put her out. She stepped up to the edge, and looked at the mud, the washout...that's what it looked like, anyhow. Possibly from the rain, but the cynic in her didn't think so. The cynic in her thought it was just the scientists fucking with them. Letting out a frustrated growl, she kicked at a rock that was poking up out of the mud--only it wasn't a loose one, apparently, and all she managed was to hurt her toe. She dropped down, sitting heavily where she was as she let out a string of hissed swears, not really in a frame of mind to hide her frustration from Brett at this point.
 
Brett hurt.  He'd not been doing too badly yesterday, but he'd woken up that morning with his shoulders, back and arms tight and that had expanded into near-constant dull pain as they went.  Pain that had only worsened as the rain continued to fall and the road they were on steadily deteriorated into mud.  He'd not said anything, but he'd become silent around mid-morning, not even looking at the girl as they traveled, his concentration all on not stopping, trying to work through the pain.  Until, that was, stopping became the only option and they ground to a halt.  He stayed a little way back from her, and from the edge, not wanting to risk it crumbling beneath his wheels.  The rain had plastered his hair to his head, three days of stubble on his chin and he sat back, tilting his head up to the sky to take a drink, since that was easier than looking for a water bottle, and he didn't think his back would like him if he twisted right now.

Eris brought her arms up, cradling her head a little as she curled up on herself, hands fisting into her hair that was in wet ringlets down her back. She was trying to concentrate on breathing, but she didn't feel very calm. She felt all kinds of out of sorts, and she just...didn't know what to do just now. In fact, she knew spectacularly little. Emphatically so. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. So...for right now she was going to just curl up and pretend she wasn't sitting at the edge of a trench they couldn't get across, in the middle of nowhere, wet, miserable, and in a ton of pain. ...and possibly, if she pretended hard enough, she wouldn't be feeling like she was having an episode of some sort, like she couldn't breathe, and yet felt like she was hyperventilating at the same time.
 
Brett let her do that - if that's what she felt she needed, then he'd give her the time for it.  he wasn't her nursemaid and as long as she wasn't completely losing it, then she could do what the fuck she wanted.  Then she could snap out of it and they could figure out what the hell they were going to do.  In the meantime, he looked around, twisting slowly against his aching back to look at the way the woods closed in on either side of the road.  And it wasn't like there was another road.  Which meant that if they couldn't get across here, then they were going to have to see if they could find a way round through the woods, which could be interesting.  he looked back to the girl to see how she was doing.

So far, Eris wasn't doing any better. She hadn't moved, she was still curled up. About the only thing that had changed was she was breathing slightly slower. It was kind of taking her a few long...however long she sat there to get hold of herself. She hated this. She hated it. She was actually barely even aware of Brett anymore, like she was alone out there. Alone, which she didn't want to be. And yet, probably deserved to be, considering.
 
Okay, no better.  Fine.  Brett flipped off his breaks and wheeled himself round, ignoring the protestations of his muscles which had been good with stopping for a while.  He headed towards one side of the road, starting down it, looking for a viable path, some suggestion that they could get through, something.  He knew better than to wish for a plank of wood to make a bridge, but he looked for one anyhow.

Off in her little world, she didn't even hear him wheel himself away. She stayed where she was for another good five minutes, til it felt less like she was going to start screaming and just not stop. Then she noticed she was shivering. Stopping moving was making her more cold. Goosebumps had risen up on her skin, and her teeth chattered for a moment, before she looked around. That was when she noticed Brett wasn't where she'd left him--not that he'd gone far. Pushing herself to her feet, which was far more difficult than she would ever admit to, she half limped back over to the wagon. Not that she knew what she was going to do when she got there. Her eyes scanned the area as well, the woods, and landed on something. Which she wasn't even sure what she was looking at, so she just stopped and frowned, staring.
 
Brett was aware when she got up, though he didn't look over straight away, giving her the time.  He was generally always much more aware than people gave him credit for.  He turned to her just as she stopped and noted the look on her face before he followed her gaze.  There was something through the trees, though from his angle, he had no idea what.  Possibly she could see better from her height. "What is it?" he asked her, starting over toward her.
 
"I have no idea." Eris said back, voice a little hoarse. She hadn't pushed any conversation after he'd fallen silent. So she hadn't said anything since then either, and with the exertion, her throat was sore. Or maybe it was from the miserable fucking rain and cold, that could be too. "...a building? Maybe?" she ventured a guess. "...or a really random wall, just randomly out in the woods, which right now, I wouldn't put past the realm of possibility." Well at least with starting speaking again, she felt slightly more normal. More like herself.
 
"You wanna go see?" Brett suggested to her.  "Hell, if it's a building, maybe we can get out of the rain for a bit.  Or maybe there's another road to it," he added.  Buildings usually had road to them, and there wasn't a track from this road, so maybe there was another road there - one that wasn't fucking caved in.

 "Yes, I want to go see." Eris said, glancing back at him. "It'll be slightly less stupid than standing out here in the rain with nowhere else to go. Granted, there could be horrors unimagined waiting for us inside, but I'm feeling game, aren't you?" she asked, flashing him a light smirk, before she went to get the wagon, starting to pull it along towards the building. "Want me to go first, just in case there's any death-inducing boobytraps that've been set?" she called over her shoulder. This at least gave her some focus. She felt a lot less like losing it when she was walking towards the building. Even if it did wind up being something harmful...it was something.

"Well, since you're offering," Brett said, magnanimously.  Really, he wanted her to go first in case the trail narrowed and he couldn't get through.  She'd find it easier to turn round than he would, after all.

"Of course. You know me, darling, I'm all heart and good intentions." she said. Then she moved quicker ahead, down the gentle slope and into the trees towards the wall. Which, as she got closer, she could see was a building. An odd looking building, and it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing. "...I think it's a...church." she called back to Brett. "There's stained glass windows, anyhow. Door's around the other side, I'll be back in a second." she told him, abandoning the wagon where it was--just in case he had to wheel down to get it in the event of her screaming, horrible death.

Brett stopped at the top of the slope, looking down.  He could hear her, but not see her very well, but with the rain coming down, he wasn't going to try and get down even a gentle slope until he could be sure they wouldn't have to be getting back up it in a hurry.  He wasn't really built for rough terrain.  Not anymore anyhow.

Walking round the building, she came to the front door. It looked like it hadn't been used in ages, the grass grown in around the place, even if one could see the remains of a path, a few flat stones set into the earth leading up. By now they were worn and cracked. Yet the building itself came off as newer than all that. Reaching for the doorhandle, she turned the knob, expecting it to be locked, but it wasn't. Pushing it in, she also half expected immediate badness to ensue. Men with guns to come out, terrible death spikes to come shooting out...something. What she didn't expect was to open the door on a small church, or church like area, where there were candles lit. It was warm inside, something she felt against her skin immediately. Walking a few steps indoors, she looked around, both taking in the odd looking place, as well as looking for anything fucked up. After nothing happened in the first five minutes, and she walked around the inside enough that if there was anyone in there she would have seen them, and if there were any traps she would have triggered them, she turned to head back outside. Walking back up the way she came, she walked past the wagon towards Brett. "It's a fucked up little church, but it's warm inside. And, we were expected, because there's candles lit. The only thing that surprises me is the fact that I didn't tred on a bear trap just inside the door. But I think it's safe."

Brett raised an eyebrow as she mentioned the candles, but water was starting to seep under his collar and the idea of somewhere warm and dry had its bonuses.  Still, there was the whole thing with the guy and the torture.  "Any other signs of life?" he asked, cautiously.

She shook her head. "Not that I saw. I walked through the place, looking." Eris said. "You don't think I was just gone for a while for no reason, do you? Just candles lit. Now, sweetheart, I'm going to go in, because I'm fucking freezing, and pretty goddamn miserable as well. So...you coming?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Brett answered after a moment, his hand sliding down by his side to check the pistol he kept there, currently covered in a piece of plastic sheeting against the rain, though he knew he could get to it at a moment's notice if he needed to.  "Go on, I'll be behind you," he told her, eyeing the best way down to the church.

"See you there." Eris said, figuring he'd have said if he needed help. Or he'd just shout his ass off if he happened to fuck up and tumble over, so she'd have to come out and help him. Either way, she treated it like any other situation--she considered him capable until proven otherwise. She wanted to get inside, herself. So, she headed down the path again, grabbing the wagon handle before she turned towards the church with it. She didn't actually stop and look back til she was mostly hidden by the building.

Brett took his time getting down the slope, making sure that she was mostly out of sight before he started - though he noticed that she didn't look back anyway.  Which was good - he didn't want her pity, or her concern.  He felt the chair slip a few times on the wet ground on the way down the incline, but he made it to the bottom and then round the way she'd gone, all the time on the alert, his aching muscles forgotten about as he waited for the trap to be sprung - this was all far too fucking convenient for his liking.

Eris had gone inside, pulling the wagon in with. She'd also left the door open for him a crack. She'd already changed into sleeping clothes, and was toweling her hair dry as she sat on one of the front pews(shotgun next to her), eyes on the decor of the place. It wasn't church-like. It was certainly set up like a church, but there weren't crosses, or crucifixes...hell, not even inverted ones or pentagrams or whatever. No, from what she could tell...the place was decorated with a tarot theme.

Brett stopped in the doorway, looking around, taking it all in.  At least, he did until a squall came up behind him, spattering his back in fine droplets of rain and he decided inside with the door closed was better.  Still, he half expected the bolt to slide back all on its own as the door shut.  Just something about the place.  "Well, isn't this cheery," he said, heading up the aisle, sarcasm covering how on edge he was right now.

"Could be worse." Eris said. "There could be ninjas with darts, here to drop from the rafters and kill us." she pointed out. She also reached into the bag she'd gotten her towel from and she tossed a dry one his way. "Could be satanic alters just hanging out...bodies hanging from the ceiling, half skinned for suits. But instead we just have lit candles, and tarot cards up in stained glass. All things considered--I'll take it."

"Could still be those," Brett said, making a point of not looking up.  At least, not until he'd silently traveled the rest of the way down the isle and turned back to face her.  Then he, causally, looked up.  No ninjas.  And the space was airy enough that it didn't feel too closed in.  At least, not yet..  "Yeah, could be worse," he agreed, looking back at her.

"Well, I figured if there were ninjas, they would have taken me out quietly before you got here. Just so you could see some ominous pool of blood on the floor, or something. Y'know, just to be nicely cinematic for everyone. The scientists seem to be a big fan of cinematics." she said, rolling her eyes. She looked down at her feet as she stretched them out on the pew next to her. "...anything I need to be doing tonight with these, doc?" she asked, looking back over at him from the angry sores on her feet. "Also? I don't know about you, but I feel just a little like I never want to move again. I am about as sore as I have ever been in my life."

"Well, if there's a bathroom around here, you could do worse than soaking them in some warm water - there's some salt in one of the packs as well, so if you dissolve some of that in the water as well, then soak, that'll help - probably sting like a bitch, but it's good for them," he told her, looking around - as expected, there was a door to one side of the chapel, which he assumed let to whatever rooms were out back, though who knew what state they'd be in.  Or whether hot water - or running water of any description, actually - would be available.  By the looks of it, this place didn't have electricity.

Eris looked back in the direction he had, and contemplated getting up. Then she did so, limp a little more pronounced now that she'd sat down for a few moments and her muscles weren't too pleased to be working again. She opened up the door, and found a small bathroom, with a toilet and a sink. Reaching out, she turned the faucet on, a brown stream of water coming out. "...that's appetizing." she said. "I'm not suggesting we drink anything from here." she said, letting the water run in case it cleared out.
 
"Pity - you know, sooner or later we're going to have to find somewhere to replenish our water supply," Brett reminded her, considering the way the rain was hitting the roof.  He didn't think it was really hard enough to make it worth while setting collectors out overnight, just hard enough to be fucking annoying when you were out in it.  Typical - annoying but not useful.  The way of the world.
 
"Yeah. I know." Eris said. "I'm not a great outdoors traveler, but I know the human body expires a lot faster without water than food, and we'll run out." she added, since she wasn't, in fact, a total idiot. Looking around a little, she found a bucket, and started to fill it with the clear water, since the brown had run itself out by then. "There's got to be a body of water around somewhere, there's an animal population." she said. At least, she thought that logic worked. The water was hot, that felt nice on her hands as she let them run under the tap. "Water's hot. You want me to fill the sink for you?" she asked, looking back over at him. "It's probably the closest thing we'll get to a bath in a while."
 
"Yeah - when you're done," Brett told her, wanting the privacy of the little room.  He'd like to be clean.  Or, at least, cleaner.  "And the thing about an animal's water source is, of course, there are generally animals there," Brett aded, wryly.  Then again, get the right animal and they'd eat well that day.

"...my point was--" she started, but stopped, setting the bucket she'd filled aside, and then she grabbed up the sink stopper--which looked older than she was and stuck it in the sink drain. Glancing around for soap, she found some, even if she knew that there was some in their supplies as well...might as well save that if there was some right here. Grabbing it, she headed back out into the main room with the bucket, and she tossed the soap in his direction. "Have fun." she said. She could soak her feet then wash up properly later, or tomorrow. It would likely take Brett longer, though, so she figured it wisest to let him go first, so he could take whatever time he needed with it, with no even pretense of being in a rush.
 
Brett caught the soap and dropped it down into his lap without bothering to ask what her point had been going to be.  He winced slightly as he twisted, dropping bags off the back of his chair, keeping one little one that had everything he needed, then setting out for the other room without another word, closing the door behind him.

Eris found salt, put it in the bucket, and did a little walking around before she settled down to soak her feet. Mostly, she went up on the alter, where the podium was. There were symbols carved into it, some she recognized, some she didn't. What sat on the small shelf inside the hollowed podium, however, interested her. It was a deck of tarot cards, wrapped in a cloth. Taking them with her, she sat on the pew again, and stuck her feet in the bucket, hissing softly as the sting hit. God, yeah, that was a lot of not fun. So, to take her mind off of it, she started looking through the cards. And right away, she could tell that they were, in fact, being fucked with. She slowly looked through them, setting one off to the side right away, and then it was just flicking through, taking her time, looking each one over carefully.
 
Brett took his time seeing to himself, glad for the hot water and the privacy. He rinsed out his clothes as well, taking that opportunity, since he'd only brought a couple of changes - something to wear, something to wash, something to sleep in.  That was all he really needed.  He hung the wet clothes around the room, hoping they'd dry over night, then headed back out into the main part of the chapel, breathing in the better air of the open space, changed for the night.  "What've you got there?" he asked, seeing the girl looking through something.

Wordlessly, Eris picked up the card she'd separated out first, and held it out to him. It was major arcana, The Chariot--and it was him. Painted, though not on the card itself, this was just a print, but well done. She'd even seen the style before--something that didn't exactly sit well with her. It made the scar on her back where Jason had stuck the knife twinge.
 
Brett stilled, though he reached out and took the card.  His face tightened, his jaw set as he started at it, silently, every muscle in his body tensed, though it seemed to make his presence grow rather than shrink as he felt the anger build.  "...Fuckers," he said, eventually, his tone powerful for all that it was barely audible.

Her eyes were on him, watching him react to the card. She had known that he wouldn't react well, of course. But it was fascinating to see that true anger rise up. Tense his frame. It was around the eyes, too, in the set of his jaw. That quiet word. She imagined that before he'd been crippled, he was not the man with whom to fuck, even if it was just by pure intimidation factor. Not that Eris intimidated, besides, he wasn't angry with her. "Could be worse." she told him, and she held out a second card. It was one she'd spent a while looking at as well. It had her on it. It was the eight of swords, depicting her bound, blindfolded, blades shoved into the earth all around her. Eight of them, and she'd noted that the artist had stuck them through her feet and through the tattered ends of the rag she was wearing.
 
It took Brett a few moments before he raised his eyes to the card she was holding out and took in what was one it.  Yeah, they were being fucked with.  "They all us?" he asked, his voice still quiet and very controlled as he held his own card.

"As far as I can tell...I recognize a lot of people." she said. "Like our good and proper, shiny new sheriff in town. Guess what card he's got?" she asked rhetorically. "I'm sure there's people you knew." She offered him the deck, in case he wanted to look through. She'd be curious to know if he recognized people. How he would react to whatever card they got. Right now she was wishing she knew a little more about tarot. "I know the art style." she added, voice just a touch distant, light. She was still watching him, paying very close attention--which she felt she could because he seemed to be a little off in his own head, not paying that much attention to her.
 
Brett didn't look through them, he didn't want to know.  This was all designed to fuck with their heads, so why should he play along?  He refused to be their fucking pawn.  he felt down the side of his chair and pulled out a lighter he kept there.  Flicking it open, he brought the flame to the edge of his card and watched as it lit up, holding it by one corner as the flames lapped against the cardboard, buckling the waxed picture.

She held the deck against her knee, watching him burn his card. She said nothing, merely studied him in more open fascination than she would normally have allowed, but she was tired, and her head was in a very strange place, after looking at the pictures she was certain Rosemary had done. Rosemary, who'd basically started her own downfall. She was strangely numb to that, even if she knew kicked up emotions roiled beneath the surface. But Brett right now...he had all of her attention.
 
Brett held the card out over the floor, only letting it drop when the flames began to lap at his fingers.  he watched it burn on the stone floor for a moment before looking across at her, noting for the first time the look on her face.  "What?" he asked, sharply.

His tone didn't really effect her, she didn't seem to react to it at all. She also didn't answer him immediately. The lightest flicker of a frown passed between her brows, but it was gone before it ever settled. When she spoke, it wasn't actually connected to why she'd been looking at him at all, or what she saw when she was watching him. "She got the blue of your eyes right." was what wound up coming out of her mouth, voice soft, quiet. Not meek, more a verbal cue that betrayed the fascination she was wrapped up in.
 
Brett frowned, not expecting that, his first thought being, Why the fuck are you looking at my eyes?  The comment set him off balance and he didn't like being off balance and he reacted the way he always reacted in those kinds of situations - aggressively.  "What the fuck do I care?  They're fucking fucking with us.  So give me the damn cards," he said, grabbing at them, set to burn the rest of them as well.
 
Eris held them back from him, the movement quick. It also seemed to snap her a little bit more out of it, but not fully. Instead, she just looked at him. "I didn't say you'd care. I just noticed. She got your eyes right. She got everything right." she said. It was an observation, something she figured was true for them all. Like the scar that was around her neck--that was on her card, displayed fairly prominently--at least to her.
 
Brett backed off - he didn't like the fact that someone had been paying attention enough to be able to tell that the card had been that accurate.  It made him feel exposed, especially here and now.  "You keep saying 'she' - how'd you know it was a woman anyhow?" he asked her, his tone remaining harsh, held like a shield before him.

"I told you I recognized the art style." Eris said, putting the cards back on her lap, held there since he'd backed off. "There was a girl in our experiment. Professional painter..." she gave a smile that didn't reach her eyes, a twist to it. "She liked to paint my death a lot, in creative ways." she told him. "She did things like this. It's her style, and she wouldn't miss a detail. She isn't in town, as far as I know. So...I don't know what happened or how she did this, or how they did it, or if they're just doing this to fuck with my head even more, but I'd bet anything they were originally done by her."
 
"Another person working for them?" Brett almost spat the question out, raising an eyebrow and resisting the urge to move off and put his coat on.  he listened to the rain against the roof, wishing it would stop so he could take himself away for a while.  Ironically, he thought he'd feel less exposed outside.  But then, she wouldn't be there.  She noticed too much.  She saw him and it was that which was making him uncomfortable.

 "If she was, I wasn't informed." Eris said. "She was crazy. That much I know. Violent. She attacked me more than once." Granted, she'd attacked back as well, but that wasn't the point. "She could be working for them. Or, they could have her in a little room with a neverending supply of canvasses, just so she can paint them sick little portraits. Does it matter?" she asked, voice sounding like it was an honest question. She still wasn't reacting to his snapping at her, they could be having a normal conversation, with her tone.
 
 "Like to know what I'm dealing with," Brett told her.  And he wanted to lash out and the fact that she'd worked for the scientists at one point was a fucking good target as far as he was concerned.  "You know - just how many of you worked for them."

"I'm the only one that I know." Eris told him, eyes locked on his. "But it wouldn't surprise me if there were others. But then, I'm sure you've already thought that far ahead." She drew in a breath, and set the cards down on the pew next to her, leaning forward, hands on the wooden bench to either side of her. "Why? You're angry, obviously." she pointed out. "Furious. It's very compelling, you know. And you play angry a lot. But I think that's the most honestly rage fueled I've seen you. It was fascinating." she told him. "What about it hit so hard, sweetheart?" she asked.

Brett looked at her.  "You really think I'm going to share with you?" he asked, the smile he gave her edging on cruel and devoid of any positive emotion.  She should know better by now, though he'd let a few things slip in the past.  It helped though, being able to deny her that, being able to exert some control by willfully withholding information.  "Sorry, don't feel like sharing.  Now, you gonna give me those cards to burn, or do you really want the fucked up keepsake?" he asked her.

"Why do you want to burn them? What difference will it make? Won't it just give them what they want? They put them here for a reason, probably just to see us squirm." she said, eyes still on his. "So far I'm sure you've given them a pretty good show, darling." She set her card off to the side, so if he really wanted to burn it, he was going to have to try for it. She slid the first card off the top of the deck, looking down at it. She stared at it for a good long few moments, before holding it out towards him.
 
"Maybe the reason was just to see what we'd do.  I had my reaction - you had yours," he told her, sliding his eyes obviously down towards her card, the one that, in his opinion, she clearly intended to keep.  "Sure they've learned something about you there too, sweetheart."  He didn't reach for the single card she held out.  He wasn't up for playing her 'I'll give you one card at a time' game.  Fuck her, he just wasn't going to do it.

"I was never under the impression that they didn't already know everything about me." Eris said. "If they want an analysis of things? I'm sure it's nothing they don't already know." she said. She took the card back, and set the individual one she'd been going to hand him down with hers. "I'm keeping a card that has me depicted in pain, blinded, helpless, bound, and pinned to the earth, literally. I'd say that's pretty classic psych 101 for someone who's got a few issues, wouldn't you? Maybe some internal masochistic streak that comes out in self destructive manners. Or, maybe somewhere deep down in the black hole that is my psyche, I feel I deserve whatever's coming to me. That I'm waiting for that punishment to come crashing down on my head, in all it's sharp edges and burning embers." She shrugged one shoulder. "Or maybe I just think it's a pretty picture, because it has me in it, maybe I'm just a narcissist." she said simply. "Or I want them to know that there's nothing they can show me that's going to get a reaction. Not like they'd want, anyways."
 
"Except keeping it is a reaction - and you don't know what one they want," he pointed out to her.  "Maybe they want you to keep the fucker, to look at it and brood over it, to notice every single little fucking detail and see new things every day.  Who knows what they want from you.  Getting rid of them brings that to an end - yeah, they can enjoy the show while it lasts, but then the fuckers have had their fun.  Game over."

"Do you think I'd brood over it?" she asked, head tilting to the side as she regarded him. "And notice details like what? Like my blood looked slightly darker than the ones I saw in other pictures? Or that she got my scars right around my neck? That my face is held up, but away slightly?" she asked. "I already took them in. But then...you know I'm good with details." she said. "Do you want to burn my card?" she asked him.
 
"And if you got hurt, would you look at it then?  The next day?  Or sometime after?  To see if that perfect detail had changed?  What if they continued to fuck with your head then?  Would you keep looking?  How long could they actually play that game for?" Brett asked her.  "Or if you had one of your turns - if you couldn't remember - could they fuck with you that way?  Changing things.  Making you think you were going crazy."  He looked at it, then back at her.  "I want to get rid of the lot of them.  We left that all behind when we left town - let's not start taking it with us now."

She listened to what he had to say, expression not giving away anything she was thinking. "Who says I'm not already crazy?" she asked. "...who says any of us are actually still sane?" Her voice was quieter at that point though. And she took the deck, and held it out to him. There were still the two next to her, but she was giving him the rest of the cards, her intentions unclear for the two remaining. "You're right." she added. "We left them all behind. We took what we wanted with us...didn't we, sweetheart?" she asked. She was watching him again, eyes up on his, studying his expression.
 
"We took what we had," Brett answered, quietly, taking the cards and turning away.  He wheeled his chair to the steps leading to the altar and leaned forward, propping the cards up to form a pyramid shape of the pack, each card overlapping the next in several layers before he set light to them and drew back a little way to watch them burn, not turning back to her.

She watched from where she was, at least at first. Then she took up the two cards she'd kept, and she walked up behind him. She leaned down, resting her arms on the back of his chair, looking at the fire over his shoulder. Letting her eyes rest on it for a long moment, she reached over his shoulder to hold out the first card. It was hers. She didn't say anything, just held it out for him, willing to let him burn it. It was his thing, he wanted to torch them, so she was fine with letting him. She saw it as futile, but she could appreciate that last thing he'd said about them, about not starting to carry things with them now. She could definitely understand that.
 
Brett looked over his shoulder at her as he took the card, his eyes serious.  He glanced at it, taking in the detail, before he held it over the flame, face down, horizontal so that the fire lapped over the surface, burning it from the middle outwards before he dropped it onto the pile of what was now mostly flame and ash.

She watched it, eyes on the card the whole time, and then she looked down at the one she'd held for last. It was Judgment. Everett stared back up at her from it, and she held that out to him. She knew that it said more about her than she'd spouted earlier. More about a reaction than anything else she'd done since finding the cards. And she held it out to him, over his shoulder, so he didn't have to look back to take it, because she didn't exactly know what her expression would be revealing just then, what her eyes might say if anything. She recognized herself as one of the dead rising from the grave on it. Or she thought it was her. Maybe it was just the suggestion, and her mind was filling in that blank, but she doubted it. Eris couldn't quite take her eyes off of it, even if she really, desperately wanted to.
 
Brett took the card from her, again glancing at it, noting who it was - recognising the man.  Recognising her in the background.  He figured that it said something about how the guy saw himself, it fit with what little he knew of the man.  He didn't know shit about tarot, but he recognised that kind of posture. He burned the card without another look, wondering about the other dead.  Wondering if they'd come back to haunt him.

Her eyes remained on the flames, watching the card burn, even after her eyes hurt and she'd killed any vision for a few minutes by filling it up with after-images. Then she rested her forehead down against her arms, leaning on the back of his chair for a few long moments, just breathing. Smelling the smoke from the burned deck, wondering when they'd see them again. She had no doubt that they would, and what he said, the changes, checking to see if they were there, she didn't have any doubt that if they hadn't' planned that already--they were now.

"We should get some sleep," Brett said, though he didn't move.  He'd let go of a lot of his anger as the cards burned, taking relief from that, and he was no longer in the frame of mind where jerking forward to stop her from leaning on his chair seemed worth it.

She didn't move, not right away. She remained where she was for a good twenty seconds longer, before she spoke. "I'm going for a walk." she said quietly, standing straight and turning towards the door. She thought about taking a candle, but it was raining, so that wouldn't help. They had flashlights, but she didn't want to waste batteries. Batteries, batteries...had she listed them twice? She'd listed them twice, hadn't she.

"Don't go far," Brett said, not trying to stop her.  He understood the need for alone time, understood that very well and he wasn't going to pry into her reasons for wanting to head back out into the rain.  If that's what she needed to do, then she needed to do it.

 She paused near the door, not having put her boots back on or anything, not really wanting to. She didn't even know if she'd do more than go stand outside for ten minutes. "...have I taken my meds for this evening?" she asked him without looking back at him.

"Not yet, no," Brett confirmed, keeping his tone on that conversational.  he knew how she felt about not being able to remember that and he wasn't going to make a big thing of the fact that he'd memorised her schedule for her pills.  She didn't highlight his weaknesses, he wasn't going to highlight hers.

"...will you put them out for me, so I don't forget when I get back?" she asked. That, as she took another step towards the door. "I..." but whatever she was, she didn't say. She didn't finish her statement at all, she just opened the door, and slipped out, shutting it behind her even without waiting for an answer from him. Or perhaps not wanting to hear it.

Brett had been going to answer, but then she was gone.  He watched the door shut, then shook his head.  "Course I will, princess," he said to himself, before turning away, moving around slowly to set them up for the night.  He figured he could make it comfortable enough that they'd sleep, but in such away that if they had to move quick, they could be gone.