Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 4 - Cuba's Usurping (R13)

WINTER REVOLUTION - 4 

It morphed into unease the day the train derailed.

Of course, that was a minor track of thought when there were other things to be done. To be discomforted throughout so tedious a task was to be the odd one out, and though Reuben certainly couldn't help but let his mind trace back to the smudgy little girl running from the Darlings, her Darlings, she wasn't the one that made him take stock of supplies so warily. She was far gone by now.

Alice, however, was not.

From the first five minutes of sitting with the girl he'd gathered far more than he'd wanted to - and, when he found that one such quirk of this woman happened to be "I'll just wait to be told before doing," he might have audibly groaned. Just a smidgen. Ten minutes he'd sat there, telling her what to pick up and where to put it, and once they'd moved onto other types of supplies, he had to repeat the process all over again. It was taking too much from his own concentration - his pile was twice that of hers.

"Do you have it on your own now?" he asked, not so much annoyed as he was tired.

Alice contemplated over her little mess of rations, and after a moment, nodded.

"Are you sure?"

Alice's brows dipped down the slightest bit before nodding again.

Reuben sighed heartily, as though a weight had been scraped away from his shoulders, and let his eyes flitter on down to the pile he'd taken a strange solace in. It was routine and, as routine goes, he knew this job would stick.

That didn't mean there'd been some magical change where the heavens shined down and the angels sang gospel. It still made him itch to crack his knuckles every five seconds, still made him shifty in the joints, still made him want to travel on outside. But rationing was comfortable in the sense that he knew what to do, so he complied.

Bruised apples: check. Rumpled pieces of lettuce: check. A carrot that looked vaguely like Cousin Helga's big toe: check. All the other little things he'd rather not place on his tongue: check. He went on like this for quite some time before the quiet actually started to bother him. As someone that was used to the general silence of being, he was confused as to why now he felt the need to make conversation. Perhaps it was the new environment. He'd surely blame it either way.

And so, with a light cough and a perking up of his chin as he folded over small squares of cloth, he said, "How are you?"

Alice's chin snapped up as well, eyes regarding him with inquisition. Her lip wiggled as she tried to make out words. She pointed to herself incredulously. "M-Me?"

Reuben's warm smile never slipped off his face, but rather than being there for the sake of welcoming, it was now there for the sake of passive sarcasm. He swept his arms out to the side, gesturing to the open expanse of dirt and tents around them. "Well, do you see anyone else here?"

She parted her lips to respond, but quickly closed them again. She squirmed, cross-legged in the dirt.

Reuben let the interest in his eyes fizzle out. "Right. Good talk, good talk."

He was about ready to continue on with his work, because then he might've actually gotten done and his plate would be scraped clean, but Alice made some struggling sort of noise at the back of her throat, and then she spoke. Or, tried to speak, at least. He had to give her credit.

"I, I am, I'm, I am fine, I am... I am fine."

That time, Reuben was the one to perk his brows up in questioning. "If you say so." He coughed, shoving those folded cloths to the side. "How do you feel about this whole mission, anyways? You don't strike me as the type to venture out. Or to, y'know, make your own decisions, but yeah, how's it treating you?" He busied himself with packing raisins equally as she worked out what it was she was gonna say in response to that. It'd be a while.