Re: [No. 22: Hunter R & Cris M]
It was real. Cris had felt it. The fact that it was changing didn't diminish the dominance in his head that it was real, 'cause he'd felt it. That tactility was hard to deny, in spitea the impossibilitya everything else. Still, even with all that electric-gathera anger in his throat and gut, Cris didn't fight the kid on it, huh? He had a tendency to lash out when he was real frustrated, but he hadn't hit that point yet, which he'da thought was good, if he'd been consciousa it at all.
"I'm okay," he guessed as he was hauled up offa his ass. He wouldn't know 'til he tried to put weight on his knee, but right now, it hurt like a bitch. It throbbed and Cris could already feel the skinna it tightening as it swelled, but still-burning adrenaline kept him from feeling the worsta it. His arm over Hunter's shoulders, his hip to the kid's, he didn't take the plunge yet. He took a minute to consider the gringito's suggestion. He knew the physics they accepted as natural constraints didn't work on the damn fence, so forcing it to react on two fronts prolly wouldn't be a problem. It'd prolly just knock botha 'em down. But, if they couldn't climb it and if it only ever shifted away, so there was no way to go under it, it wasn't like they had a lotta options to choose from.
Tentative, Cris shifted on his feet, weight allowed to pin down, through thigh as he planted his right foot and leaned toward it. The pain in his knee flared, like lightning struck a tree, and the guy swore, instinctively moving back onto his left and against Hunter. It'd be okay, he told himself. He just needed to give it a minute. Maybe pack some mud on it or somethin', to reduce swelling.
"One sec." Using the kid's body to kinda ease himself back into the mud, Cris sat, leg outstretched. He pulled his poor scarf from 'round his neck and started to scoop mud into its belly. As he worked, he mulled over the questiona what the fence was for. He didn't have very many doubts, huh? "To keep us in. I dunno why. I'm guessin' this is somethin' that's never happened to you?" If anybody knew Repose, Hunter did, Cris knew that. He lifted his knee with a sucka breath through his teeth and he winched the scarf into a knot around it, tails at the back. His hands were filthy and slick. He held them out to Hunter for help getting up again, talking as he did so—or about to, when he realized he was looking at an absence, huh? Over Hunter's shoulder, around his side.
The fence was gone. Like it'd never existed, no holes in the ground, no moundsa dirt. The quietness remained, nobody else was around, but... the fence was gone. He quickly waved the kid's hands away and swatted at him, almost a push.
"Go!" He'd be slow. The guy wasn't sure he trusted that the shit was gone, and he wanted Hunter to try to get as far away as possible before it potentially cropped back up. If it didn't, all the better, huh?