| they've got the kingdom locked up. (CALL ME OUT)

[wingshapes]

【the ❝CALL ME OUT❞ meme】
a roleplay meme to inspire muses.

♛ refer to the list above for active muses. Alternatively, here is the rest of the muselist! ♛ post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line! ♛ can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy! ♛ feel free to make up a scenario at the start, leave an image or quote prompt, or wait to see where things go. meme code.

Comments

[determinable]

[ She's glad for him not asking questions for once. Maybe she'd even have shot him down if he'd asked. Chances are talking about those who have been taken isn't a comfortable topic for either of them, and she's far more comfortable keeping the conversation away from them for the time being.

When he chuckles at her sputtering, she frowns at him immediately, but as he goes on the expression dissolves into quiet surprise, just off the side of awe. ]

Wow. You didn't waste any time. And, what, with just two people? [ She shakes her head, smiling. ] We had our hands full with not dying.

[trismos]

[He agrees, definitely.]

Well... [He looks at her again, from the corner of his eyes.] The maze sort of did it for us. All we had to do was run. [It wasn't as simple as he is making it sound, no, there was a lot that could have gone wrong. He had to outrun the Griever and the walls crashing, but. In the end, it was worth it. He is still amazed he managed to think it up on the spot.]

[determinable]

[ Tris tilts her head at his remark. The maze? How? Until it clicks for her, and she grins. ]

Wait, you mean the changing walls? Wow, good thinking. Your idea or his?

[ It seems like that would take a very experienced runner to even know about, and be in the right place at the exactly right time. And even then, probably a lot of luck to top it off. ]

[trismos]

[He nods at her question, moving a hand up to scratch the back of his neck while avoiding her gaze. So maybe his ears gain a little bit of color as he replies, given her compliment.

He hasn't heard one in a while.]

Mine. He was already up ahead. [And then he looks down again, back to massaging his wrist, quickly adding:] I wouldn't have known which direction to run without him, though.

[determinable]

[ In the dark, she doesn't catch the way the compliment makes him blush. She smiles all the same, albeit tentatively, watching him for tells of discomfort. That's the friend of his who got taken, isn't it? Not the kind of territory to navigate without a care. ]

I guess he's a pretty experienced runner, huh?

[ To know the changing walls of the maze even at night and while being hunted is nothing to scoff at. ]

[trismos]

[Very wise of her to be careful where to step, indeed.

He nods at her question, eyes narrowing slightly as he keeps staring at the floor.]

Yeah. [It's a whisper, almost, his tone lower than before.] The best.

[determinable]

[ And there it is. Her eyes dart over him, taking in the details of him trying to stare a hole into the ground, the way his voice darkens. She isn't sure how to steer the conversation back to a better place, but she tries anyway. ]

Why were you in there in the first place?

[trismos]

[He isn't entirely sure that is a better place at all, because his eyes remain on the floor, shoulders tensing up a bit, leg beginning to move up and down, slightly. It's a nervous habit. The feeling that he needs to just move increasing. He needs to go, he should be going. They are wasting too much time here, who knows what they could be doing to--...

But then Newt's voice (and the argument that they just had not that long ago, even) comes to mind and he just sighs deeply through his nose. Yeah, he knows they need to stop. Yeah, he knows they need to rest. Yeah, he knows that trying to go non-stop will only make things worse in the long run.

But dealing with all of this is not easy. It's not easy at all.]

He and the leader of the group, Alby, went in to investigate something. [He tries to focus on the story in order to calm his thoughts.] They were taking longer than usual, though. We all gathered by the gates, waiting, until he finally showed up, dragging Alby on the floor. He had been stung.

Usually, I guess, you are meant to leave the stung people inside, that's what the banishing does. But Alby was important to them. To the group. So he didn't let him go. [He starts playing with his fingers then, the story obviously not doing much to drain any of that anxiety away.] The doors started to close and all the boys outside were telling him to hurry up, but none of them moved to go inside.

I guess the fear was too attached to them, the idea that no one could survive a night in the maze. If some of us had gone in and helped, we all would have made it out before the doors closed.

But no one did anything. And he wasn't letting go of Alby, either, and it became really obvious that he was never going to make it to us before the doors closed.

[He looks at his hands then, shaking a little bit now, his own hold on them trying to calm them.]

I figured two would be better than one, out there, so I ran inside right before it shut down. All three of us made it out the next day.

[He is still surprised at how well Newt dealt with the whole situation.]

[determinable]

[ He talks, but it seems like he's just sinking deeper into it. Wrong choice, maybe. For Tris, it leaves only the option of listening and watching, while she bites the inside of her cheek. Hearing it is different, of course, from being there, but she's got some idea of what it was like even so.

She nods as he describes it, the way fear held people in its grip, keeping them from even helping those important to them. Everyone, Tris has found, has a different reaction when they are afraid of something, but being paralyzed by it isn't uncommon. Not everyone can detach from it, master it, figure out how to function anyway. Thomas is, while clearly managing, also clearly not okay, but he's earned her respect by not shying away from it even for a moment.

She reaches out, tentative, places a hand on his forearm. Plain for him to see, her hands are calloused as any glader's, nails bitten down to the beds. She tries to meet his eyes, if he does look up. ]

Hey. [ Just stop for a second. ] We can find something better to talk about, if you want.

[ Not if it's too much, or if it hurts, or any of those choices. She withdraws her hand - it's really that simple. There's no pity in the look she gives him. ]

[trismos]

[His whole body tenses up the moment her hand touches his forearm. It's nothing against her at all, since it is an unconscious, immediate reaction, the touch unfamiliar, the thoughts far away from the here and now of things.

When his eyes turn to it, though, just half a second after, and he follows her hand to see her, hear her, he slowly begins to relax again.

He appreciates the gesture as well as the words. It's good to be offered a way out, yet, his thoughts are too far gone into it already, his foot resuming the tapping on the floor from before.]

Yeah, [He tries.] Thanks.

[But she is withdrawing next and he turns to the horizon just to find something he has been dreading to admit to himself for days-- Nothing. There's nothing there. He doesn't know if they are really going in the right direction, he doesn't know if this is the fastest way.

It's ridiculous, because he, according to Vince, is the reason they even know where to head to, but he can't remember a thing. What if this is all part of a bigger plan? What if he lied back when he had his memories and gave them the wrong coordinates to a few things just to get them to walk into a trap? Would WICKED have thought that far ahead? Was that even possible?

He was overthinking, the anxiety growing, worry taking over.

This was wrong, this was all wrong.

What if he was taking them towards their bitter end? What if by trying to save Minho and everyone else, he was putting Newt and all the others in danger? Of course, he would still go to save Minho anyway, but the more he thinks about it, the less comfortable he is about all of this.

Not to mention that he still feels like they are taking too long. He promised Minho he wouldn't let him be harvested like those kids back in the WICKED facility. Just the thought that he might be breaking that promise as they speak, right now--]

... I need to go.

[And before she can stop him, Thomas is getting up.]

I need to move-- I think... Running a little around this place?

[He won't be going to continue alone (and least not yet), is what he means, to make it a little clearer. But he needs to move, because moving helps him feel like he is at least doing something, rather than staying still.

Doing so around their campsite would still allow him to keep watch, right?]

[determinable]

[ He's panicking. This much is obvious to Tris, because she's seen it and felt it, but she can also tell that she can't calm him down - maybe one of his friends could, but he's already trying to think his way through it, so there's no real point waking anyone.

Tris sits back as Thomas gets up, head tilted up to see his face. Her surprise passes quickly before she nods. It's a restlessness she knows. ]

Or you can scout ahead. I'll keep watch.

[ She considers running with him, even though he's probably faster than her just by how much taller he is. At the same time, she doesn't want both of them to be leaving the site. So she leaves it as is. ]

Just come back.

[trismos]

[That she can tell so much with so little is not only surprising but amazing, as well. That she doesn't make him any more questions or tries to stop him is even better.

He is thankful, for that.

Thankful that she even goes as far as suggesting that he scouts ahead, rather than just running around. He might venture a little, but really, he isn't going to get very far at all and always try to circle rather than just going in one direction. He wants to make sure everyone will be safe, at camp.]

I--... [He wants to say, but trails off. He won't be long? He doesn't know if that would be true. So he ends up just nodding.] I'll yell if I see anything. [And run back like a madman, too, if that was the case. Hopefully not, though. It seems to be a pretty quiet night.

At her last words, he nods again.]

I always do. [And there's a small smile in there. Sad, but still. He meets her eyes once more.] Thanks.

[determinable]

[ She trusts him. Implicitly, anyway, if she didn't she wouldn't be on watch or even on this trip with him, and if Thomas couldn't look after himself, Tris is pretty sure he wouldn't have made it this far. That she understands his restlessness isn't to say that she doesn't blame herself for it. Apparently, the things they talked about brought issues to mind that he can't bear to sit still in the presence of, and she feels-- clumsy. Awkward. If running will help him, it's not something she'll try to talk him out of, and he's skittish, restless, tense, all of which she doubts will get better with more sitting still. ]

Okay, [ she responds, hoping that means he's staying in yelling distance. Runners, after all, will go for hours and hours and never stop. She isn't sure what to make of the smile, or the sadness it comes with, so she doesn't return it, merely watching him as he looks at her. His assurance that he always comes back is the one statement she doesn't believe, having seen too many not make it through things they were so sure they would, but it isn't the time to argue. Not exactly her place either. ]

Sure thing.

[ None of them should be alone out there. But she's never been very good about rules. ]