Well, I mean-- you sort of came off as seriously intimidating? [ He waves a hand vaguely. ] You showed up, and not two hours in, you set a guy on fire with a flick of your wrist and mind controlled another.
Scary first impression, you know? 'Specially to an ex-Ravager.
I suppose that would be intimidating, wouldn't it? [ suddenly she's glad that Peter wasn't conscious to watch her kill Mordo. She might have gone overboard with that one. ] Sorry. It's sort of what I do.
[ He shrugs a shoulder. In his more paranoid moments, it's really hard to reconcile her scary-as-hell Siren side with her blushes-at-the-drop-of-his-shirt Maya side. But-- well, he likes Maya more than enough to try to not let the fact that she's a deadly Siren get to him too much. ]
I'm just happy to be in your good graces. I'm hoping I stay that way.
[ It's not too much longer before he finishes up and gets his belongings together; Maya has healed him well, but his muscles are stiff and sore as he pulls on his coat. He feels like he just finished swimming for four days straight, and he's not looking forward to having to travel like this (and there's the nagging feeling that, really, he'll just be slowing them down).
Still, he knows it could be worse, considering the nature of the blow he took; he's seen an assignment go wrong on more than one occasion, where a Ravager (or sometimes only his body) would return covered in ugly burns and weeping sores after setting off some sort of arcane trap. So for him, this is a good sort of pain. It's the sort of pain that says, "At least you're not dead, you dumbass."
He pauses when he moves to gather up his satchel, opening one of the pockets and reaching in. His fingers brush against his mother's pendant, the silver metal warm and reassuring and there; oftentimes, simply touching it has a way of chasing away his anxiety and fears and makes him feel like a child again, when his mother would scare away the demons hiding in the shadows. This time is no different, and he just feels-- better, somehow, like a fog has lifted.
For a long moment, he just kneels there with the pendant in his hand, eyes closed, breath slow, and his thoughts is more serene than they have been in days.
The moment passes, though. Once his bow and quiver are in their rightful places at his back and the strap of his satchel is slung across his shoulder, he joins Maya at the entrance of the den, leaning against the cave's mouth. The time spent holding the pendant has done quite a bit to improve his condition, it seems, and he's visibly calmer, brighter. ]
[ Maya has her own methods for centering herself, for regaining her clam an focus. She's seated cross-legged in the grass, hands on her knees, face turned upward towards the rays of sunlight poking through the trees. Her eyes are closed and she looks perfectly serene.
It was the only thing of value she ever took from the abbey- some of the kinder Brothers had taught her their meditation methods. "Respect the silence," they had said. "Treasure the moments of inaction." And honestly, it was probably the only reason she didn't go insane after so long in that relic.
She hears Peter approach, hears him speak, but she stays where she is for a moment more. Deep breath in, and out. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Stop it.
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[ It's at that point, though, that his stomach makes itself known and complains a bit. ]
-- Sorry.
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Buuuut he takes the food, though after the first bite, he does mumble good-naturedly, ] Worrywart.
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Pretty nice, so far.
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But I agree- it's been pretty nice so far. [ you know, aside from that... whatever happened earlier. ]
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[ He smiles a little, looking down at his food. ]
Yeah. You're-- definitely not how I expected you to be.
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Scary first impression, you know? 'Specially to an ex-Ravager.
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I'm just happy to be in your good graces. I'm hoping I stay that way.
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[ she can't help glancing at his pack- the place where he keeps the relic. She's starting to realize just how lonely she really was. ]
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I'm... [ He fidgets a little, uncomfortable with honesty, but he presses forward anyway. ] I'm glad I met you.
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Good thing for both of us you've learned how to put up with me.
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No easy feat, I assure you.
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I'm going to sit outside for a bit. Let me know when you're ready to go.
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Still, he knows it could be worse, considering the nature of the blow he took; he's seen an assignment go wrong on more than one occasion, where a Ravager (or sometimes only his body) would return covered in ugly burns and weeping sores after setting off some sort of arcane trap. So for him, this is a good sort of pain. It's the sort of pain that says, "At least you're not dead, you dumbass."
He pauses when he moves to gather up his satchel, opening one of the pockets and reaching in. His fingers brush against his mother's pendant, the silver metal warm and reassuring and there; oftentimes, simply touching it has a way of chasing away his anxiety and fears and makes him feel like a child again, when his mother would scare away the demons hiding in the shadows. This time is no different, and he just feels-- better, somehow, like a fog has lifted.
For a long moment, he just kneels there with the pendant in his hand, eyes closed, breath slow, and his thoughts is more serene than they have been in days.
The moment passes, though. Once his bow and quiver are in their rightful places at his back and the strap of his satchel is slung across his shoulder, he joins Maya at the entrance of the den, leaning against the cave's mouth. The time spent holding the pendant has done quite a bit to improve his condition, it seems, and he's visibly calmer, brighter. ]
I'm good when you are.
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It was the only thing of value she ever took from the abbey- some of the kinder Brothers had taught her their meditation methods. "Respect the silence," they had said. "Treasure the moments of inaction." And honestly, it was probably the only reason she didn't go insane after so long in that relic.
She hears Peter approach, hears him speak, but she stays where she is for a moment more. Deep breath in, and out. ]
All right. Let's be on our way.