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bakerstreet2019-10-24 10:46 am
meeem) wrote in bakerstreet2019-10-24 10:46 am
Entry tags:
body heat
Post with your character! They're now stuck in a very cold place of your choice. It can be anything, such as a freezing chamber, a cavern or a small cabin in the midst of a blizzard. The choice is up to you.
Comment around! Now your character has some company in this bone-chilling environment. The two of them share two things in common: clothes completely unfitting for this weather (be they summer clothes or even lingerie) and a blanket. A blanket? Yes, just one warm blanket and no other ways to escape the cold. The two of them will have to share it in order to stay alive in this weather. Don't worry, you're sure to find a common language in this terrible situation!
So, uh, have fun, I suppose. Try to not freeze to death!
Protip: friction and body heat are both excellent ways to fend off cold.
Ashe | Overwatch | F/M
[Safely cocooned in the thin yellow blanket, Ashe is tightly bundled up, arms around her her knees to hug them tightly to her chest. She knows that blanket is getting some mighty coveted stares, so she scowls and grips the edge into a tightly locked fist.]
Get'cher own. This one's all mine.
[Even though it's clearly not enough, she's still shivering all on her own.]
-----
2. Ashe Doesn't Have the Blanket
[Ashe paces furiously, trying to keep her body temperature up with the brisk motions. It's not working.]
Son of a sidewinder, it's cold.
[Not for the first time she eyes that blanket. Not for the first time she contemplates just taking it by force.]
You gonna share, or am I gonna have to get creative about generatin' some heat around here?
[She's pretty sure she's still got a stick of dynamite in one of her pockets.]
-----
3. No One Has the Blanket...YET
[Both of them burst into the cabin, the blizzard winds shrieking outside the creaking walls. It's not much colder on the outside than it is inside, but it sure is nice not to slog through those deep drifts of snow and fierce winds.]
[Ashe flexes her numbed fingers, too tired and too cold to do much fussing at her snow 'buddy.' For now? Temporary truce.]
[At the same time, however, both of them notice the big red comforter left hanging over the stairwell railing. It's caked in dust, the color faded to a dingy rust color, but to hell with that. It's a blanket, and that means warmth. Ashe glances at her companion. Glances at the blanket.]
[Suddenly she gives him a hard shove before bolting straight for the greatest treasure of the day: a dirty old blanket.]
Back off, I saw it first!
3
Except it's hardly funny at all. McCree's used to desert extremes--can't have sweltering heat without frigid cold at night, but throw snow into the mix and that chill bites bone deep. His face is red and his ears burn under his hat. His cybernetic arm usually generated enough heat internally to make up for the cold exterior but ice build-up threatens to keep his joints stiff. He shrugs it all off, even as he hugs himself and speaks through chattering teeth.]
F-Fine. Have it your way, Ashe.
[Who knew where the rest of Deadlock was but for the moment all they had was each other... for better or worse. They just had to wait it out in this cabin. Things could be worse, really. At least the wind isn't howling at them. McCree dusts all the snow off his hat and stomps his boots clean the door.]
Call dibs on a blanket but I call dibs on the fireplace. [He prays there's a fireplace in this god damn cabin as he looks around, spurs jingling heavily.]
Re: <3
[So naturally, she's suspicious. Ashe picks up the blanket, giving it one hard flap to send a cloud of dust floating into the air and taking a quick step backward. The comforter swirls around her shoulders and settles like a king's cape, one hand poking out of the folds to remove her hat and give it a few taps to shake off the clumps of snow and ice.]
You can't call dibs on an entire fireplace, Jesse. Heat's gonna spread. Shoulda gone for the blanket.
[She tugs the edges up a little further as she places her hat firmly back on top of her head and starts to wander. If there's a fireplace, it's in her best interest to find it too. ...And maybe claim it as well to see if he'll just let her have that without so much as a whimper.]
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then this turned into a horror memeHe hums disapprovingly, muttering to himself while rubbing a hand over his beard.] Figures.
[That's fine, he's nothing if not resourceful. Elsewhere in the cabin there's a small wood table and two wooden chairs. He's not afraid to resort to that if needed but then his eyes settle on an old painting right above the fireplace; it's a painting of an idyllic farm on a meadow under a clear blue sky. It's framed in the world's most garish wood. He stares at the akimbo canvas for only a few seconds before rising on the tips of his boots and stretching his arms up to take it down.]
You know, I never was one for art.
[He grew upon a farm. She knows that. That's about as much as he can appreciate out of this. He remembers the rows of ostentatious, expensive paintings in her house, hung up casually like he would a pin-up calendar. He turns the canvas over to see if there's anything hidden important behind it--nothing, strangely not even a signature--then quietly bids it goodbye before jabbing his heel through it to break it into usable pieces.]
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[Shame to bust up the place, since its very presence probably saved their hides from a nasty frostbitten demise. But the shabby old thing isn't valuable, and she could easily have it replaced with something that is from one of several family homes scattered throughout the southwest.]
Well you go right ahead and demolish the place. I'll check out back. See if there's a woodshed.
[Teamwork?! Hardly. Like she said, they're both going to benefit from a fire in the fireplace. Can't stop the other one from getting warmed up out of sheer spite, more's the pity.]
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...She has the blanket, she'll be fine. Having a stranger indebted to her because of her opportunistic kindness as a result of McCree's necessary wanton destruction sounded like his kind of luck--and hers. Anyway, not his worry. The canvas and its frame crumbles with a little effort. Moving around helps stave off the cold but his breath hangs visibly in the air, a reminder they're both on borrowed time.
He sets to work arranging the wood frame chips and chunks into a traditional campfire shape inside the fireplace, not expecting Ashe to come back with anything useful or not waterlogged with snow. The canvas can serve as some kindle but it's not great as he experimentally tries with his lighter--all the paint keeps any flame from catching. His fingers are shivering and he gives up for now. The smell of butane of course triggers a Pavlovian craving for a cigar and he's able to at least light that up. He slumps to the floor and wraps his arms around his legs and hugs his knees to his chest in front of the unlit fireplace, completely relishing any amount of warmth coming in and burning his lungs.]
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[She groans, eyes rolling back into her skull. Well it was a nice reprieve while it lasted. Shedding the blanket and tossing it into the corner...with a silent vow to kick the living daylights out of McCree if he tries to snake it while she's out there...she throws open the door and slams it behind her, one hand clamped down on her hat as she fights through the wind. Elizabeth Ashe is not going to let some measly little blizzard get the best of her.]
[After about ten minutes, the door swings open with a loud roar before the noise cuts off, and Ashe makes a fluttery sound of disgust through chattering teeth. Again, snow off the hat. Again, donning the blanket cape. She stomps into the living area to see McCree sitting there, smoking. Her brow darkens.]
Give up, or did you just get distracted?
[She doesn't have any wood, but she's sure got something in her arms under that blanket. Several somethings, actually.]
Your lighter looks like it's workin' just fine.
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Can't it be both?
[It was both. He's too cold to stand but he does twist in his seat to look up at her curiously.]
Bring back anything useful?
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[She snorts as she drops to one knee, examining the splintered wood. It'll do for a start, but the flames won't last all that long. Still better than nothing. The blanket opens to show that she's got cans and jars cradled against her chest with the other arm, which she now sets down. Chili...pickles...tins of Yum-O-Rama tapioca pudding.]
Never said it was for you, though.
[Never said it wasn't either, but that depends on how this plays out. The painting looks like it's no good for tinder, but she knows what is: acrylic stuffing. There's a reason every comforter sports a 'keep away from flames' warning tag, which, coincidentally, gets yanked right out and carelessly tossed into the firepit. She pulls at the seams where the tag hung out and pulls out a small fistful of stuffing to stretch it out like webbing over the kindling.]
Light it.
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Puddin'? Now I gotta' freeze and starve to death? [He smirks.] You're cruel.
[As for the stuffing, he was actually thinking that too and was mulling over his head how he'd go about convincing her to give it up as he smoked, but she'd gone and done him the favor already. Begrudgingly. He'll take it wordlessly.
He sets up the stuffing as tinder and with still shivering fingers sets it ablaze. It actually doesn't smell that bad and manages to catch the canvas on fire. McCree gently blows on embers to help them grow and after a few patient moments they have a tiny but stable fire going.]
No sneezin' on my hard work, you hear?
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Now that's more like it.
[She shoots him a sidelong smirk, one brow raised. And did he just seriously insinuate that was hard work?]
Oh, sure, real hard. I can see the sweat drippin'.
[Her posture is the next to relax as she stops leaning over her knee, falling back onto her hip into something a bit more casual now that she can feel the first touch of warmth seeping through that pervasive chill.]
[Then there's a second sidelong glance, more surreptitious than the first, to see if he's good with that alone. He can hide a lot behind that easygoing smile, but hypothermia's a lot tougher to keep under wraps.]