gotta get up || PEACHES

[nixon tatum grey]

He needed to get out and clear his head. While he wasn't stressed from being here, he was having more flashbacks to his time spent in the marines. It had started with his last treatment session and because he wasn't one to complain, he was trying to deal with it on his own. Not being very sociable, he didn't have many friends to turn to. He wasn't really affected by it, but sometimes he would appreciate someone to talk to.

Sighing to himself, he just kept up his steady walk, keeping his trembling hands in his pockets. They hadn't stopped shaking for days now since his last injection and he was honestly starting to worry. The last time his hands had shaken like this was when he had first gotten out of the marines. It was a side affect from his stress disorder and he was afraid that it was coming back in full force. He had just managed to stop dropping everything, and now this. Walking along with the permanent limp given to him by his time in the war, he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up to hide the scars on his face from the roadside bombing.

He just wished it was easy to forget all of the bad.

[peaches emilee harrison]

It'd been a busy last couple days, Peaches had to say. What with all the new patients coming in, it seemed like the records were just growing by leaps and bounds. All these pages of history and their life and what was to happen to them. She didn't have time to do more than read names to separate them, but it was still frightening. She couldn't do anything about it, though. She was just here to keep everything neat and in it's place.

She walked along with the stack of papers in her arms, humming to herself. She had an old song stuck in her head, a song her father used to sing to her. Or maybe it was one on one of those old vintage TV shows she adored so much. She had to get the vintage look from somewhere, right? People thought her odd, walking around in poodle skirts and bandannas. Not that she cared. If she cared what they thought, she'd conform to normality. She whistled, bobbing her head. The ringlet curls in her hair bounced as she walked, halting to a stop when she did. She looked at the man walking across the lawn, then started to walk slowly over to him. She liked talking to the patients, maybe cheering them up. "Hi!" She said cheerily, walking along beside him. "I'm Peaches! Who're you?"

[nixon tatum grey]

Furrowing his brow as he limped along, he wondered if there was anything that the doctors could do to get him to stop limping. That was a foolish thought if he had ever heard one. The doctors and the medical staff in the marines hadn't been able to give him his pace back. There was no way that these people would be able to do it, or would want to do it. They only did things that helped with their experiments and since his ability was controlling fire, that certainly had nothing to do with walking. He didn't need to walk to manipulate fire.

Sighing to himself for being such an idiot, his teeth chattered rhythmically in his head, his hands clenching into fists as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to warm himself up even though he knew that's not why he was shaking. His blue eyed gaze was so focused on the ground that he didn't even see the young woman until she was two steps in front of him, which was not like him at all. He had military training behind him. He should have heard her. Slightly upset with himself, he raised his quiet eyes to study the rather bright girl in front of him, and he forced a small smile on his face.

"Hi there Peaches. I'm Nixon." He introduced himself as politely as he could, still clinging to himself to hide his shaking. This was rather embarrassing.

[peaches emilee harrison]

Peaches couldn't help but notice his shaking. She wasn't sure if she wasn't aware of the dropping temperature or if he was about to cry. Or maybe he was nervous. Or maybe he was even just having side effects to the stuff they were forcing into their bodies. She didn't know. She didn't really have that problem, no disrespect intended. He seemed nice enough, though. "So like.. the president? But I'm willing to bet you're way cooler. Those guys are kind of uptight. But maybe they have to be. I don't know. I never ruled a country." She shrugged.

She felt a little odd, walking along beside him. She didn't want to be a bother to him. She would leave it he asked. But the problem was, he didn't seem the type to ask. He'd just grin and bear it, she assumed. He reminded her a bit of her dad. Minus the taunting about loving Mickey Mouse, of course. "So where's a guy with a cool name like Nixon hail from?" She asked, smiling over at him. Being in heels meant she actually had a chance at being looked at, instead of looked down on for being so short.

[nixon tatum grey]

Nixon felt the familiar ache flair up in his bad leg and although he didn't want to show weakness, he knew that he would need to take a break from walking rather soon. He didn't want to bring up the subject of his limp, which he was sure would appear if he needed to rest, so right now, he just trudged stubbornly along next to her. Trying not to think about it too much, he smiled suddenly when he heard her words. He had been compared to the President more times than he could count, but it still made him smile. Especially when she explained that he probably wasn't as boring as the man that once held the Oval Office. Nodding his head, he spoke up with a small laugh.

"Just like the President, yeah. I wouldn't want to rule a country. Then I'd probably be pretty uptight."

He agreed with a friendly, teasing wink. Well this was strange. Nixon didn't usually open up like this, and he certainly wasn't the joking type. Forever serious, the young man had a soldier's attitude and outlook. Furrowing his brow in slight confusion over his behavior and then sighed inaudibly. Hearing her question, he looked over for a moment before focusing ahead again. "Dylan, Montana. How about you? Where does the name Peaches come from?" His birthplace explained his gentlemanly drawl, but he was completely interested in where she was from. He'd never heard the name Peaches before.

It was then that he realized he needed to take a break. A grimace traveled over his features as he took his next step and his leg flashed with pain. Nearly crying out from the intensity, he slowed to a stop, his hand rubbing over his thigh to try to relieve some of the pressure there. "Hey, I'm really sorry, but, do you mind if...if we just take a quick break?" He hoped she wouldn't mind standing still for a few minutes because he certainly couldn't walk forward at the moment. Leaning a bit off of his left leg, he relieved some of the pressure, but it didn't seem to be doing a thing for him. highly uncomfortable now, he offered her a good natured smile. "I'm getting old." He teased, trying to lighten the situation.

[peaches emilee harrison]

Peaches nodded in agreement. But she could see him running something big and grand. He seemed capable of a lot. But maybe it was just her trusting and happy nature that thought no one could do any wrong. Her father had always told her she could never be a lawyer. She'd always think everyone was innocent of everything. 'He's not guilty and he's not either. No one did it. They just fell on a knife,' He'd mock her with a high voice so unlike her own. Not that her voice wasn't chirpy to begin with. "Well, we can't have you all uptight. We'll let them be uptight and you can be one of the cool kids who just doesn't care." She smiled, fixing the papers in her arms.

"Generally? Some Southern place like Georgia or Utah. Not that I know where Utah is to begin with. But I'm assuming it has a southern.. atmosphere to it. But this Peaches is from Downtown Vegas, Nevada. Which is saying a lot because as poor as I was brought up, you'd think we were from Africa." She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. She thought growing up with less than the rest made her appreciate what she did have so much more. Sure, there was teasing and taunting from the other kids when she dared to wear the same outfit twice in one week or she came to school with an old bag and tattered shoes. But that made Peaches Peaches. All she ever wanted was a trip to Disney with her dad. Not that it would happen now. She was stuck here with the rest of the people. It was like a black hole; once something passes over it, it's gone forever. She sometimes wondered if the people's families missed them, if they wished they'd come home. And how they explained things like wings and scales to them when they did visit.

Peaches gave him a what-are-you-talking-about kind of look when he said he was sorry about having to rest. "I'm open for a rest. These papers weigh more than I do." She said. She leaned over, putting them on the ground before she flopped down beside them, spreading her arms out in the grass after she'd made sure her skirt was in place. She didn't want him thinking she was some sort of freak or something. Not that 'freak' couldn't be a word to describe her. She certainly was an odd one. "Me too. I turned twenty in March and I feel so ooooold." She drawled, plucking up a piece of grass from the ground. "But maybe it's all that energy finally dying off." She chuckled, shrugging her thin shoulders.

[nixon tatum grey]

Did he miss home? Yeah, but he supposed everyone did. He didn't want to single himself out by saying that he missed home the most. He had struggled at home after being in the war. He hadn't been able to bounce back as quickly as everyone had hoped, for not only had he lost his best friend, but his entire unit as well. Why did he get to survive while the others lived? It was luck, pure luck. However, his luck had quickly turned bad when he was sent here. He couldn't be mad at anyone but himself. He had agreed to come here, and there was no one else to blame.

So when she told him that they could leave being uptight to the other people, and he could be considered "cool", he smiled. Her lighthearted nature was something that seemed to be lifting his spirits. In a place filled with negativity, it was like a breath of fresh air and he found he didn't want to be devoid of her presence. Not yet anyway. Not anytime soon to be perfectly honest. "I like that idea. Good plan." He agreed with a nod of his head, grinning over to her after a moment. He didn't have to care about anything with her plan. It was nice, wishful thinking, and for the time being, he would delude himself into believing that in fact, it was possible not to care. And then she started talking about her name.

A wry smile worked its way onto his handsome face and he glanced sideways at her as she went on about how she figured that it was from somewhere in the south. However, she was from Nevada and not very well off as it was. Furrowing his brow, Nixon tried to smile at her joke of basically being from Africa, but it was still sad. Nixon hadn't been raised in a rich family but they certainly hadn't been classified as poor. They were just regular, middle class, normal people. He couldn't imagine living in a life comparable to the poverty of Africa, even if it was meant as a dramatic joke. It didn't matter. His heart was a compassionate one, and he looked at her as he too lowered himself painfully to sit on the ground. "I give you a lot of credit for being able to have such positivity." He complimented her, giving her a small, sad smile. He was a serious person. The marines had ingrained that in him.

As she said that her papers were heavy, he was about to offer to take them from her but she chucked them on the ground without another care in the world and settled herself down. He tried to get comfortable, but his trembling hands were a bit difficult for him to handle, and his leg had decided to have a bad day considering the level of pain today. As she called herself old, he smiled, laughing slightly. It was one of his few true laughs, and he appreciated her more in this moment than he ever thought he would. "So, what do you do here Peaches?"