kore_logs | And the lights go out...

She sighs and looks out over the sea. Without power, everything just got fifteen times more complicated. Her thumb runs along the roughness of the handle.

"More trials and tribulations from our captors most likely." Brigid is just a little bit bitter about that. "It's not as if the food shortage is enough. No, they have to make it so what little food we do have is going to go bad, so that we gorge and then starve. It's... psychological warfare, really." She's read enough history to know something like that. It's not a pleasant thought.

"Pile on the issues until we crack and turn on one another."

He hums in thought, but he nods his head, because there's no better way of putting it, really, and it's definitely crossed his mind that if it goes on long enough that's exactly what might happen.

He wonders if they have an advantage in being what they are or that will only make them snap sooner rather than later. But he feels in control, or as much as usual, and he's had plenty of practise.

"Are you starting to crack?" Because he thinks he should probably be aware of where she's at, in case he needs to restrain her if it comes down to it.

Brigid is a student of history. These things make sense to her. She doesn't flinch from the hard stories of history - from the concentration camps, to the slaughter of innocents. She wants to know it all no matter how hard it is, because someone should remember.

His question startles her and she laughs. She actually laughs, shaking her head. "No. I'm fine. Bored, tired of having to hunt for food instead of walking down the street for it. And really missing my library at home, but I'm fine." She cocks her head to the side, still slightly amused. "Should I worry about you?"

If any of the knowledge she's obtained helps their situation, all the better for it.

He actually looks worried as she laughs, leaning away from her a little so he can turn his head and watch her better, but the second she says no and means it he visibly relaxes again. "You like to read?" Literature is something he misses here, too, even though he's had plenty of time to move on from the grand library the Hale house once had, he can at least relate a little on that front. "No. I'm in control." And he's survived worst.

"I can take care of food supplies if you need to take a break."

She turns back to the sea. Her shoulder bumps his softly, and she leaves it there. It's comfortable to be sitting shoulder to shoulder with another wolf. Almost like home. "You know all those dusty historical tomes, that sit on the shelves and only get touched if someone has a report? I'm the person curled up in the corner with them, reading them for fun." Brigid is well aware how some people see her reading habits. She doesn't really care either.

She shrugs. "The help would be welcome. I'm not much of a hunter. The most I've done is stalk the ever impressive package of ground beef at the butcher's." Brigid is so not a hunter. But, she also grew up in Boston. Fishing is easy for her.

"History's important." He wishes he had read more while he had the chance, but many of the books passed down the family line were lost in the fair, and the ones he did read aren't always that helpful to the current situations he's been finding himself in. "You never know when the information will come in useful." He enjoys reading himself, although not necessarily history books unless there's a reason to these days, but he's not going to judge her for it.

He can't help the laugh that escapes, light and soft, but still a laugh. "You do most of the cooking. It's fair if I do most of the hunting." The blackout aside, she seems calm whilst trying to tempt the fish in, so he doesn't offer to take over the task, but he's willing if she wants him to.

"Those who do not know it are doomed to repeat it." It's an axiom that she lives by. It's certainly served her well a couple of times. Not in her current situation, though it has made her more willing to try different combinations of foods, since she'd taken to experimenting at home too.

Brigid's smile widens, hearing him laugh. He should laugh more, it's a nice sound. "I can agree with that. Unless you start making noises about women in the kitchen or women's work." It's definitely teasing. He doesn't seem like the type to make those kind of remarks.

Her Alpha is.

The words ring in his ears, linger in his mind, and they dredge up thoughts he's been trying to put behind him, at least while he's stuck here without any real reminders. But she doesn't know how right she is in some cases. A strange yet fleeting expression passes across his features, and then his default slips back into place.

"You won't hear any of those noises from me." He's known too many strong women over the years that even if he weren't brought up better than to take that kind of a perspective he would have learned the hard way eventually. And he would happily take over the cooking if he thought she would enjoy the gathering part more.

Brigid catches the expression, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She turns to look at him, fully. "Did I say something wrong?" Brigid's voice is soft, gentle. She knows that she sometimes forgets the person behind the history. She has a tendency to go on, forgetting that real people lived those lives.

She keeps one hand on the fishing pole and puts one on his arm, offering just the barest of comforts, if he wishes it.

It takes him a minute to register what it is she's referring to, but when he does he shakes his head, offering a hint of a smile in reassurance. "No," he confirms, gaze lowering to where her hand rests upon his arm; it's nice, the comfort, it's been a while since he's really had any form of positive contact. "I was thinking about what's waiting when I get out of here."

Placing a hand over hers, Derek's smile is something less forced now, soft and genuine, and enough to let her know that he's grateful.

Brigid actually leans into his side, resting her weight against his. He needs it. Some forget that wolves tend to be tactile and need the physical contact. Especially among pack members.

Her head drops onto his shoulder, resting there. She only offers comfort and companionship. A chance to lean on someone else for a little while.

Her pole jerks and she jerks it back, setting the hook and then reels in a fish. Moving away from him for a second, her eyes glow blue, allowing her to see in the darkness surrounding them. The hook is stuck and it takes her a minute to get it out, gripping the fish with one hand and teasing the hook out with her claws. She drops it into the bucket with the others.

A quick re-bait and the line is back in the water, and she's leaning against his side again, her eyes once again brown. "What's waiting at home?" She's there to listen.

He stiffens at the extra contact, but he doesn't openly object to it, and instead he draws in a deep breath, releasing it slowly until the tension bleeds out. He's grown so used to not having this, to believing that after everything that's happened because of him he doesn't really deserve it. But as her comforting warmth presses into him, he sighs with content and lets his eyes close for a moment.

Following her movements, Derek glares at the fish as it thrashes around in the air briefly, because the loss is felt immediately, even if she's still closer than most get and she returns as soon as the fish hits the bucket.

He doesn't answer straight away, but he can't help thinking that his downfall is what awaits him. Still, she should probably get a better idea of who he is, of what tends to happen around him. "A broken pack." Lydia said enough to make him fear what that might mean for Erica if not Boyd as well. "And a war I don't have the power to win."

"It doesn't always take power to win wars. Sometimes it just takes perseverance." She leans her head on his shoulder again, comfortable with this, as long as he isn't objecting. "And knowing when to ask for help." An Alpha asking for outside help isn't a good thing, but surely his Emissary knows how to ask, without jeopardizing their territory.

"I'd help." She makes the offer softly, but still sincere. If she could get away from her Alpha, if she could get to him... she'd help. She would help him rebuild his pack and stand behind him no matter what the war entailed.

"I've never been good at asking for help." But he somehow ends up with a little every now and then all the same, and he's not sure what's worse: the fact he's struggled to trust anyone for a long time or the fact he's starting to learn that if he doesn't then he's always going to fail. "It's a complicated situation."

He smiles at the offer, appreciating the gesture even if he would never ask her to put herself in danger, and he puts a tentative arm around her back, gently resting his head atop of hers. "

This is nice. This is what pack is. Sitting on a dilapidated pier, fishing in the dark, next to each other, talking about a war neither one of them can do anything about right now.

"If I could get away from Mark, it'd be no problem at all." It's just a matter of getting away from her Alpha. Something she's considering more and more. The insurance money is there; it's not like she can't support herself. But leaving a pack is something... else.

Brigid leans her weight against Derek, closing her eyes. The fish aren't being extremely cooperative, and she just wants to have a peaceful moment with an Alpha she can trust - St. Raphael vouched for him, that's enough for her.

Mark. It's the first time he can remember her ever calling her alpha by name, and he makes a note of it. He knows a little about her life outside of here, no doubt much more in comparison to what he's shared, and it makes him thankful for everything he had, even if he's lost it since, the things he's fallen into without planning for it.

"No one knows if or when they'll return from here." His voice is quiet but sincere, eyes gazing out at the water without really seeing. "Or where we'll stand. But when we do, if you ever need help, if there's no one else you can turn to, you can come and find me." He doesn't know if or what he can really offer beyond someone to be there for her, and taking for granted that he'll still be around as an alpha if a time ever comes, he'll welcome her into his pack. But he's not sure if he'll be much better than what she's used to; perhaps in some ways, but not in others.

She's comfortable against him. It's been a long time since she's been really comfortable with another wolf. His arm around her makes her realize that even the other wolves of the pack aren't really that close to her any more. Possibly by design, but probably more by her own actions.

Accepting that something happened and accepting never knowing the reasons for it are two different things, she's coming to realize.

"I think we'll get back. Somehow, some way." She whispers. She has to have that belief. Her faith in everything else has been shaken; it's the one thing she has left.

A smile twitches her lips. "I might just take you up on that. Maybe." She should probably talk about it with her Confessor. Father Frankie has never steered her wrong in the past... Except, St. Gabriel. She probably shouldn't ask her priest. Since, he would tell her to pray and St. Gabriel had said...

Better to let it go. She'll figure out something, later.

He makes a non-committal noise of agreement, even though he doesn't want to hope too much; he knows that things tend to go downhill whenever he gets ahead of himself. But a part of him almost likes being here, a break from the world he's from, the situation he's going to have to face once he does return, even if he's finding himself more and more concerned about the people he's left behind to deal with it. He tries to remind himself that it wasn't his choice, and that given one he would never have willingly run away and left them to it.

"It's there if you need it." There's a rare smile that laces itself around the words; he knows he'll miss her after, but she's probably better off without him outside of here. And then there's the unknown question of whether or not they will even be allowed to remember this place or the people in it after.

Eyes closing, now, he sighs, basking in the peace and quiet, the sounds of natural all around them, and he focuses in on her steady heartbeat. She reminds him, sometimes, of Erica, the softness beneath the surface, and it's nice to have something close to it again.

And the lights go out...

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