Author Games Compilation [Cycle 2]

Task 3: Hope for the Best [HE]

I'll be completely honest here: ever since the instance where Hayes accidentally phased into an ancient Olmec bird monster and found that he could very much hear my voice ricocheting in his head, I haven't said much. Nothing at all, really. See, he's a panicky sort of man, and the last thing I need is my host fainting every time I share a sentiment, nor do I need him erupting into tears whenever his "subconscious" criticizes something stupid that he does. I'm not sure why this change has occurred; I'm not sure what this change means. But until I do, I'm perfectly happy sitting back and observing how Hayes senses and responds to his environment without my intrusion. I'm perfectly happy to wait for disaster to strike us.

That may be sooner rather than later, at the rate his training's going.

He's just taken a blow to the shoulder and fallen back against a wooden climbing wall he shouldn't be anywhere near, so now there's pain pulsing through his front and back, and he's hissing through it all like some wounded reptile, retreating back into the green piss-water he'd come from in the face of a specimen much older, taller, and prettier. Also, better at punching people. This is what I get for choosing a total dad as my combat partner, he thinks bitterly to himself. Literal and figurative.

Pierre is patient, waiting back with little interest as Hayes recovers. If anything, he's merciful. But in the field, people won't be merciful. This isn't helping him in the slightest and this is what gives him, and I, the alarming revelation that if this were real, we would most certainly be dead by now. Well, he would. I'd flit my way back to the hub of the universe and continue to serve the all-seeing.

"Y'know, when we flew back here, I sorta figured we'd do something about that bird-thing, especially us, since we're like, y'know, the research team. Instead, they've got us out here, sweating, getting sunburns, and building a collection of bruises. You think they secretly hate us, Pierre?"

Pierre's hazel gaze lifts to Hayes', and he nods, quickly averting his eyes elsewhere, to other practicing fighters and runners and people with muscles who aren't them. "I expected research, too. Nafisa might summon us."

"If we're lucky," Hayes says. He finally stops rubbing the pain in his shoulder and lumbers forward, wiping the inordinate amount of sweat from his hairline. Surely they have an indoor facility somewhere and not just this mosh pit of sand and sun? Nevertheless, he roots himself firmly beside Pierre, staring out at the various trainees, talented and, well, not. "What d'ya say we ditch this joint and spend the rest of the week roaming Spain together?"

And, with that, Pierre is gone, off to explore some new, more pleasant venture.

Hayes meant it only as a joke, but still, it stings. He tries to scrub it off by jogging in another direction altogether, soaking in distraction and setting his sights on Rilla, who keeps a steady pace on the track paved into the dirt. He jumps in line beside her, keeping pace easily, for if there's anything he's good at, it's running. Much more in line with his skillset than fighting face-to-face. "Hey, hey, hey!" he begins, words aligned with his rapid footfalls. "Rilla, my colleague, my peer, my friend. Mind if we run into the sunset together?"

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice," she says. Her gaze remains firmly ahead, and her form never breaks; she's always been rather consistent.

"'Course you do," he says, pepped. "Otherwise I wouldn't bother asking. That's breath I could use to keep me going more than one lap."

He can feel the eye roll that he doesn't see, and I know this because I feel it too - but still, he doesn't let this deter him, because I also see the birds flying through his mind, the searing heat that'd scorched his insides, the clash of minds he'd felt in his skull. He clears his throat, and says, "Say, you wouldn't happen to know anything about Nafisa's findings with the bird thing, yeah? I know you've been up there once or twice. You've gotta have, like, some idea of what's going on. Plus that shimmery goddess lady with the cheekbones-"