peckenpaugh | (no subject)

WHO: Trudy and Merlin
WHAT: The air is cleared and snow is dumped
WHEN: 1/24
WHERE: Mothgarden hedge maze

While chinchillas may not be known for their adventurous spirits, Merlin is convinced that Bibi is the exception to this rule and that his furry rodent friend needs to get out and see the world from time to time. To this end, he's decided to take a trip through the hedge maze after class and carries Bibi cupped in his mittened hands, humming to himself as he plods through the snow. As they progress, the walls shift around them and he silently attempts to keep up with a mental map in his head. It's a challenge, admittedly, but he likes a challenge.

As the hedges once again shift and create a new fork ahead of them, he looks down at his familiar and says warmly, "So. What do you think, Bi? Left or right?" He's not actually expecting an answer, but that doesn't stop him from tensing indignantly when he realizes that one of the new paths is already occupied by Trudy McGilliguddy. He huffs a breath that turns into white cloud, then adds, "...Hey. What're you doing out here?"

He hasn't seen much of her lately outside of class and, while he's not certain why, he assumes there's probably a reason.

Maybe the delay in Trudy's response is because she's wearing an ear warmer headband, and while it has cat ears, they're not likely functional. "Hello," she says, shifting the strap on her bag. "I like to come out here and wander the maze. Find a good, quiet spot to sit down and read." She thumps the side of her bag to indicate the books inside, her favorite type of company. "Well, enjoy your walk," she says, nodding once as she passes him by to press on into the maze. It isn't that she's angry at Merlin, but she's also not exactly not angry either. Not enough to argue about openly, anyway. She's much too busy for that.

Except the maze apparently has other ideas. Only moments after leaving, a hedge wall shifts and Trudy rounds a corner to meet Merlin once again. "Hello again," she says, glancing around, wondering what the odds are that they just happened to cross paths again.

Merlin had intended to respond, but Trudy's abrupt departure leaves him standing there with furrowed brows and a mouth that's slightly agape. He turns to look after her and almost pipes up, but can't find anything to worthwhile say before she disappears around a corner. Sometimes, he doesn't get his housemate at all. But he doesn't get a lot of people. So what else is new? He looks down at Bibi, stroking the little rodent's head and shrugging before continuing on.

He will enjoy his walk.

When the shifting maze brings them back together almost immediately, though, he exhales a huff that's half-amused and half-perplexed. He eyes the walls, then exchanges a glance with Trudy before belatedly responding to her departing line, "...Enjoy your book." Then he keeps walking...only for the hedge maze to lead him back to her again.

"...Okay, what the hell?" he snaps at their semi-sentient host. The plants, however, don't even give him the satisfaction of a flinch.

This response makes Trudy snort, turning what would be annoyance into mild amusement. "It looks like we'll be taking a walk together, according to the maze," she offers. She doesn't like when someone else dictates her choices for her, but she has so many questions — about the degree of the maze's sentience, about whether it has a goal in mind, about what's affecting its decisions, if they can truly be called decisions — that she can't be angry with it. "Come on," she says, nodding ahead.

While Merlin doesn't actually mind a walk with Trudy, he also doesn't like being told what to do and his irritation isn't at all undermined by curiosity. He clenches his jaw and considers protesting, but finally relents and starts walking again, falling into step beside his housemate. The path seems to narrow subtly as they move, making them walk closer together for a while. Or is that just his imagination?

The maze is pleased, or at least satisfied, because it doesn't overcomplicate itself. It seems to be winding in a simple direction, without too many deadends. Trudy starts to wonder if the maze is going to take them right to the exit, but that turns out not to be the case. Instead, they find a secluded corner with a canopied bench. "Hmmm," Trudy says, squinting and adjusting her glasses.

"It's playing with us," he observes irritably as the path opens up onto the small clearing and the bench, "...but I don't get it." He glances around the space and moves Bibi from his hands into the inner pocket of his jacket. Just in case.

"Is it capable of 'playing with' people, I wonder?" she says, but it's more rhetorical question. She looks around the secluded little area for a moment, skirting the perimeter, glancing under the bench, like there might be a clue to a puzzle, but there's nothing. While she ponders, she adjusts her glasses on the bridge of her nose. Then she plops down on the bench so suddenly that it looks like someone turned the weight of gravity up. "Might as well stick around for a bit. See what this comes to," she announces, but at the same time she opens her book to the spot she had marked, apparently not too keen on a conversation.

Normally, this would've seemed like a fair question to Merlin but given the current circumstances he just lifts his hands to gesture emphatically toward the surrounding hedges. The pushy, my way or no way hedges. "What else would you call it?" he asks, about to continue when Trudy opens her book and starts to read. This startles and silences him and he watches her for a long moment, gradually tilting his head and waiting for her to say something. Or do something.

Finally, he huffs a breath and crosses his arms...but carefully. He doesn't want to crush Bibi.

"...That’s it?"

Trudy looks up from her book and pushes her glasses up her nose. "That's what?" She slips the bookmark back into its place and closes the book. "There doesn't seem to be anything else to do here other than sit on the bench, so."

Admittedly, there doesn't seem to be a lot to do, but Merlin doesn't like the idea of getting pushed around by a hedge. And he doesn't like the idea of his housemate ignoring him (and isn't that what she seems to be doing?) much better. He glares down at the snow and gives it an idle kick with one sneaker, sending a small clump flying into the greenery.

"We could at least...come up with a plan or something," he concludes finally, looking back at Trudy with a spark of resolve, "If you actually want to know what it's capable of or not capable of. Just sitting around's a waste of time, isn't it?"

"I didn't think you'd want me to plan anything," she replies, striving to keep her voice neutral, a simple observation, though there's a hint of something just beneath the surface, glimpsed and then gone like a fish darting in a pond. Still, after a moment's hesitation, she takes her wand out of her hair to vanish the snow on the bench beside her, presumably an invitation for him to sit.

While the hint of tension has been there ever since the pair first encountered each other in the maze, this is finally direct enough to solidify the matter for Merlin. Even if he doesn't actually know what she's getting at. His brow furrows and he goes to join her on the now-cleared bench, dropping down with care for the sake of his chinchilla passenger.

Not knowing how to approach the topic, he eventually settles on the clumsily blunt, "...You're being weird. Why wouldn't I?"

The change over Trudy's expression is subtle — a slight wrinkling of the nose, lips pursing a little — but it makes her look more like a stern librarian than a high school student. "Well, I'm not an experienced and renowned expert in the field, so," she says, and there's more emotion in her sentence than she intended, a little bit of hurt honed into a sharper edge.

"So?" Merlin waits for a beat to see if Trudy actually intends to continue the thought, but when it becomes clear that she doesn't he reaches into his jacket to stroke Bibi's fluffy head and glances off at nothing in particular. He still doesn't know what the problem is and he certainly doesn't remember calling out her lack of divining expertise or the resulting argument with any clarity, but he can see in her strained features and hear in her sharp tone how irritated she is. And maybe how upset she is, though he's quick to push back against that notion. It's worse, somehow. And Trudy's not the type anyway.

Is she?

Finally, he turns back to the girl and suggests, "...just tell me why you're mad? We'll be here all day if you expect me to guess."

"I'm not mad," she says, telling herself that she doesn't care enough about the opinions of others to have so much feeling about what someone else thinks of her. Even if that person is a friend, she doesn't need friends to be successful. "I just think, if you need help, you ought to contact someone you trust for the task. Anthony, for example. You're close to him. I'm sure he would be happy to rescue you." For her part, Trudy would rather eat her way out of this hedge maze than ask Tony for help, and it absolutely does not bother her how much Merlin likes Tony more than her.

Merlin's eyes narrow at the suggestion that he needs saving and he snaps back irritably, "Did I say I needed help? I don't. And stop trying to change the subject, anyway. You're obviously pissed about something." He stops petting Bibi to give Trudy's shoulder a quick jab and presses, "So just spill it."

Trudy squawks, gaping at him after he jabs her shoulder. "Stop that!" she says, but she jabs his shoulder back in a grand display of maturity. "I'm not pissed. In fact, I'm glad I've finally realized that you don't think much of me. It's better that way, to know."

The chinchilla in Merlin's pocket squeaks loudly in protest as the two begin to bicker, but Merlin doesn't seem to have the same sense and moves to knock Trudy's hand away as she returns the gesture. "I never said that!" he protests, shaking his head in disbelief, "Where are you even getting this? You shouldn't listen to everything people say; you know some of them just want to talk shit."

"From you!" Trudy replies, voice going high pitched. "When you go out of your way to make me feel stupid and you don't stick up for me when someone does me a grave injustice, it's the only logical conclusion."

This accusation stops Merlin's flaring temper in its tracks and renders the boy silent, too surprised and too confused to find the words to defend himself. And maybe too guilty to try. While he doesn't know what Trudy's on about, this wouldn't be the first time that he's hurt someone's feelings without meaning to or even realizing it. And she's his friend. He leans back, both of his hands drawing thoughtlessly to Bibi as he murmurs, "...What're you talking about?"

Trudy purses her lips, and it looks like she might clam up again. She takes a moment either way, to calm down and to think. When she speaks again, it's with less obvious emotion. "My prediction," she says, "In December. You were very insistent about my incompetence. Also, there was the blackmail incident."

Immediately, Merlin understands and he turns his dark eyes down to Bibi. He resists the urge to point out that he was right about the prediction, realizing how unnecessary and cruel that would be given the circumstances, and his lips twist into a tight line.

"I...wasn't trying to make you feel stupid," he protests, shaking his head and feeling the precarious position of his defense, "But it's sorta a big claim to say the world's going to end. And Tony just..." The boy's words seem to fail him and he strokes the chinchilla's fur restlessly, trying to figure out what he wants to say. "Tony's Tony. His feelings got the better of him and I just wanted...to keep it from being a thing." Even to him, his excuse sounds flimsy. But it's the truth. So what else is there to say?

The answer to that question comes with the small, sharp pain of Bibi biting into his index finger. He flinches and shoves the rodent's face gently before looking at Trudy. He frowns, the expression equally awkward and earnest. "...Look. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were...that I hurt your feelings?"

"You didn't hurt my feelings. I don't have time for feelings," Trudy protests, but even she can hear how petulant she sounds. "But… if you had. Well." She shrugs. He apologized, but his apologies came with addendums. "It's fine."

Despite himself, Trudy's stubborn denial makes Merlin smile wryly. He says stuff like that too, so he's quick to recognize it for the bullshit that it is, but he's reluctant to call her out on it. What would be the point?

Instead, he shakes his head again and returns slowly as the expression wanes, "...I can't say I won't ever disagree with you again. I don't think you'd want me to either. What kind of bullshit friendship would that be? But. Next time...I'll try not to be such an asshole about it." This feels inadequate, though. He almost reaches for her hand in an effort to emphasize his next point...but ends up gently bumping her shoulder with his own instead. "...And don't think I see you like that either. 'Cause I don't. You're...you know."

He looks pained as he trails off. Why is this so hard?

This time, she doesn't complain about the contact, swaying a little in response to the shoulder bump. "I don't know. What am I?" Trudy says.

This earns another awkward half-smile from Merlin and he looks at Trudy with uplifted eyebrows. "You're going to make me say it?" He doesn't actually know what he'll say yet, but he knows that he'll answer if he has to.

"Of course," she answers with the shadow of a grin. "Curiosity is my greatest virtue and vice."

"Well, you're right about that," Merlin shoots back, his own smile brightening even as he shakes his head and lowers his eyes, attempting to find the right words.

Finally, he pushes forward and just starts to talk. "...You're one of the smartest people I know. Obviously. You're stubborn, but in the determined way people that actually get things done have to be. I don't always get you, but you know what you want and you do what you want and anyone that doesn't respect that needs to check their priorities. And I like knowing what's going on with you because it's never boring." All of this honesty is starting to get embarrassing, though, so he exhales a huff of breath before concluding, "...And I'm jealous of your shoes. You always have really good shoes. So. That's what I think."

Trudy ducks her head to hide the smile creeping like ivy across her features. She's easily won by compliments, but in particular those compliments. The type that acknowledge her strengths, that make her feel seen and appreciated. She isn't going to admit any of that, so instead, she says, "I do have very good shoes, don't I?" Then she links arms with Merlin.

Merlin isn't certain what he'd expected Trudy's response to be, but the lack of acknowledgment and her arm hooking through his is a relief and he smiles to himself, quipping back, "If they'd fit me, I'd steal them." A lie. He'd get hassled to no end if he wore heels to make up for his height like she does. But still.

"You can try, but you'd have to get in line behind Jupiter. She's already on a shoe stealing mission. So, what are we going to do about this hedge maze?" she says, suddenly amenable to the task at hand.

At the question, he murmurs a low, thoughtful hum and glances around the segment of the maze they've been led into. "Well..." They don't need to take drastic measures and he doesn't actually have any ideas yet, but he fully expects that one will come to him.

"There's always the option—" Trudy begins to reply, but whatever she had in mind will have to wait. Suddenly, a huge load of snow is dumped on top of them. Trudy yelps indignantly at the sudden wet and cold, but it's muffled from being almost completely buried.

While Merlin doesn't realize what's happening quickly enough to yelp, Bibi utters a frantic squeak before the snow falls and buries all three of them. There are a few moments of furious flailing before he manages to dig himself partially out of the mound and the boy utters a growling cry of frustration as he tries to shake the ice out of his hair and reaches into his pocket to make sure his rodent companion didn't get lost somewhere along the way. She didn't. So he turns toward where Trudy had been and starts push some of the snow back.

"Trudy? Hey...!"

The sound of laughter nearby stops him and he throws a sharp glare in the direction of the sound. Who in the hell...?

When Trudy appears, she's red-faced from both cold and fury. "Freshmen!" she shrieks, "It has to be freshmen!" She looks like she would consider chasing them, but she's too buried in snow to move for several moments. They work together to uncover themselves and each other, but by the time they do, the culprit is likely long gone. "Well. One problem at a time, anyway. Ready to tackle this maze?"

Trudy's rage statles Merlin enough to overshadow his own anger for a moment and he stares at her with wide eyes. But she might be right. It might be freshmen. He shakes his head and huffs and works with the girl to pull them both out of the snow.

When they're finally free, he nods sharply and resolutely in agreement. "Let's get the hell out of here."