WHO: Misha Rice & Richard Walker WHAT: Misha settles Richard in by her pod and when he leaves to go to the bathroom, he doesn't come back. In fact, when Misha goes to find him, she finds someone named Jim.
Misha made sure that Richard had something to eat and talked to him about the people in the house, what things were like while trapped here. Things weren't good. She knew some people had plans to get out but she didn't know what they were. She just wanted to survive.
She took him to her room. Wasn't a room, really. She still slept in the pods, and there was an empty one beside hers. She showed him to it and then left, disappearing for a couple of minutes. She returned with pillows and blankets. "Bet you didn't think you'd end up here again, did you?" she said, smiling a little. "I got some things to make your bed more of a bed, yeah? It's not so bad that way. Kinda cozy. Misha had set up a whole place for herself here, with racks of her clothes, all of her makeup, some books she'd found and wanted to read.
"Yours looks cozy," he admitted. The place was so crowded. They were lucky the pod by Misha was empty; some Actives had moved out of the pods and into other people's rooms or couches somewhere, and Actives from other places had moved into the abandoned ones. The Bomb Squad was kind of rabid about their room, though. Bravo had vacated months ago but God help anyone who even attempted to move into his pod. "I'm surprised you have that much free space to yourself, though."
"Oh, it's... I mean, it's not a lot of space." Misha shrugged. "A lot of people've moved around. Most folks don't wanna sleep in the pods."
"It could be worse." Richard shrugged in turn, taking the pillows and blankets. "Thank you."
She went to sit at her pod and slip off her shoes. "You need clothes, they're kept in the wardrobe room, you can take what you want. Ain't cleaned out yet, so you're good before you end up with the S&M bondage gear."
Richard snorted. "I'll keep that in mind for as long as I can." See that? Crazy person humor.
Misha smiled. "I... well." She looked down at her feet, curled her toes. "I missed you. Now that I remember you."
"I missed you, too." When he was awake. He really hadn't gone into the depths of exactly how bad it had been after she left. She really didn't need to know, not yet. "At least in here, I can't go wandering the streets by accident."
"I guess, but Richard, it ain't like this is safe, either. An' I know what stress does to you----"
"I know. We'll handle it," Richard promised. "I was handling it already, I can keep doing it. Don't you worry about me."
Misha grabbed a hairbrush and ran it through her curls, loosening them. "I always worry about you. People here are gettin' trigger happy, jumpy. I worry that your other half'll take over an' you'll start a fight, and..." She shook her head, biting her lip. "But you can handle it." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "I gotta change, sugar."
"I'll be fine," he assured her---and then he realized what she'd just said. Um. Right. "Sorry. Where's the bathroom...?" He'll leave.
"It's down the... I mean, y'don't have to go, but it's down the hall, take a left." Misha stood and pulled a pink nightdress from under her pillow. "I can slip behind..."
"No, it's fine, I actually do have to go." Richard gave her an apologetic look, dropping the pillows and blankets into the pod and heading off.
Misha watched him go, her eyes lingering on the door for a few moments before she willed herself to undress. It was always a bit of a process. She had to feel safe, know that no one was going to walk back in. Her back to the door, she slowly undressed, peeling off her clothes and folding them neatly, slipping out of her underwear and putting that into her little laundry bag. She took her time despite her desire for privacy, slipping into her nightgown and feeling the cool fabric slide into place over her skin. She reached for a small cosmetics bag and pulled out a little packet of wipes for removing her makeup.
Richard took his time---or, well. It seemed like he was taking his time. And then it was more time, and more time. Maybe he'd just up and abandoned her, but ... that wasn't like him. At all.
Misha finally started to worry. Her makeup mostly off, she slowly climbed out of the pod. "Richard?" She pulled on a pair of slippers and wandered out, heading toward the bathroom. She just had to check on him, was all.
Richard was sitting right outside the bathroom, looking like he was having some sort of asthma attack, a hand up to his nose---his bleeding nose. Maybe someone had punched him. Right now, that probably wouldn't be too far off the mark.
"Richard!" Misha skidded across the floor and dropped to her knees by him. "What're you doin'?"
He yelped, startled. "Oh, God, you scared me." He had a touch of an accent---light enough that it was hard to tell what it was. "I---I don't know---I don't know where this place is, and when I get upset my nose bleeds---!" It wasn't Richard. Not Misha's Richard.
Misha sank back on her heels, her fingertips against her mouth. She didn't recognize this persona. She knew Richard and she knew his "other half." She called him Dick to differentiate. This was new. "No... no, shh... shh, sugar, it's all right." Misha got up and disappeared to the bathroom to get him a tissue. "Here, you put this to your nose an' tip your head back----then come with me, all right? Ain't no reason to be upset."
It wasn't too bad. Whoever this personality was, he was easily stressed, easily scared. He was probably Richard's way of dealing with being terrified; it had really hit home how alien and out of place he was when he left Misha's side. He pressed the tissue to his face, pulling himself up. "I want to go home," he muttered.
"I know. We all do." She offered her hand, long and slender. "I'm Misha."
He took it. His handshake was tentative, a little loose. "Jim."
"Jim." Misha watched him carefully. "I'm going to take you to a safe place to sleep, all right? I've even got it almost set up for you; I can help make you comfortable... it's just for a little while, just until we can go home." Who was Jim? Was he imprinted by Alpha already?
Jim nodded, perhaps out of lack of anything better to do. He followed her with no real interest; he was twitchy, obviously uncomfortable. "If you say so."
Misha led him back to his pod, looking as calm and as gentle as she could. She didn't want to look afraid. "Why don't you try an' take a nap..? You want anythin'? It's late, I was just headin' to sleep, but..."
He wiped at his nose, cleaning away the blood. That was a very small space, but it looked comfy and safe. "All right, I ... all right. ...Thank you, I think I will."
"I'll watch over you, sugar. Don't you worry." Misha smiled gently.
Despite the reassurance, he eyed her warily. Just in case. He kicked off his shoes, climbing down into the pod and tugging the blankets up over his head.