[ The thing with the fog is that, even with the... ghosts? Illusions? Encroaching parallel dimension?
Even with all that, the thing with the fog is that it's just slightly easier to see through now than it was a couple of days ago.
Hardison's made do with staying cooped up. There are always people in the boarding house, and a lot of them are kind of in the same boat he's been in. Looking for a movie or dumb board game to occupy their thoughts with, something to fiddle with, just looking for a friendly face and a connection in the middle of an awful situation. And it is awful. But he's made do. Every once in a while he finds half a reason to think things could be worse.
(As long as Eliot is here, real and impossibly alive again after a first day that told Hardison in no uncertain terms that that wasn't the case, it could always be worse.
He got worst out of the way early, he guesses. Doesn't feel all that lucky.)
Still, he was itching to get out even a little by the time the fog lightened up, and after a while he learned to navigate the... weird, scary apparitions situation. They're more than kind of unsettling. He tries not to spend too much time thinking about how lost they look, when there's nothing he can do about it.
Seeing as someone was cool enough to teach him a bit about using the projector before his first day took that impossible turn, and that he doesn't wanna spend a lot of time getting nauseous in the fog, popping into the theater doesn't feel like the worst idea. It's certainly better than all the nothing on offer, comparatively, so he puts on his dumb wrinkly flannel overshirt and does the thing.
Drawbacks to doing the thing: entering a dusty abandoned building in general, let alone one where someone or something could be waiting around the corner. Or tinkering with the limited tech.
So, step one. Hardison sneezes. Twice.
Step two: ]
Those weren't threats! Just- just so we're clear. I'm basically anti-threat as a rule.
[ If sneezing gets him stabbed in a movie theater he's going to be mad about it, frankly. ]
exploration
Even with all that, the thing with the fog is that it's just slightly easier to see through now than it was a couple of days ago.
Hardison's made do with staying cooped up. There are always people in the boarding house, and a lot of them are kind of in the same boat he's been in. Looking for a movie or dumb board game to occupy their thoughts with, something to fiddle with, just looking for a friendly face and a connection in the middle of an awful situation. And it is awful. But he's made do. Every once in a while he finds half a reason to think things could be worse.
(As long as Eliot is here, real and impossibly alive again after a first day that told Hardison in no uncertain terms that that wasn't the case, it could always be worse.
He got worst out of the way early, he guesses. Doesn't feel all that lucky.)
Still, he was itching to get out even a little by the time the fog lightened up, and after a while he learned to navigate the... weird, scary apparitions situation. They're more than kind of unsettling. He tries not to spend too much time thinking about how lost they look, when there's nothing he can do about it.
Seeing as someone was cool enough to teach him a bit about using the projector before his first day took that impossible turn, and that he doesn't wanna spend a lot of time getting nauseous in the fog, popping into the theater doesn't feel like the worst idea. It's certainly better than all the nothing on offer, comparatively, so he puts on his dumb wrinkly flannel overshirt and does the thing.
Drawbacks to doing the thing: entering a dusty abandoned building in general, let alone one where someone or something could be waiting around the corner. Or tinkering with the limited tech.
So, step one. Hardison sneezes. Twice.
Step two: ]
Those weren't threats! Just- just so we're clear. I'm basically anti-threat as a rule.
[ If sneezing gets him stabbed in a movie theater he's going to be mad about it, frankly. ]