kelpheaded | get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now

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get up and shake the glitter off your clothes now

When she wakes up, she doesn't realize anything's wrong at first. She's in a bed, soft but supportive, tucked under a thick blanket. She's cuddled up against a warm body, her head pillowed against a firm chest that moves up and down steadily with even breaths. It's comfortable, and when she cracks her eyes open and sees she's in a (hotel?) room that's empty aside from her sleeping companion, no monsters (why would she be looking for monsters?) or anything else dangerous in sight, she almost shuts her eyes again to fall back asleep.

It's the thought that she doesn't quite remember how she got here that really wakes her up. Because: how did she get here? Where is here? It might be safe... ish... in that she might not be in immediate danger, but there's a lot of unknowns right now, including the question of who the frick is in bed with her.

It would probably make more sense to stay quiet and take in more of the situation, but the realization that she's in bed with a stranger causes her to flail backwards in a way that would absolutely have had her falling off the side of the bed if the mattress itself wasn't surprisingly large. Instead, she ends up tangled gracelessly in the sheets and slightly frozen in place, like the guy waking up won't see her if she's completely still.

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He does accept the napkin as gracefully as he can, flashing her a shy little grin. He doesn't get the feeling things will just work out, either, but maybe it's not wrong to hope they will, even as they try to take steps to actively solve the problem in the meantime.

"Through amnesia and double amnesia," he says, and lets out a breath, looking out at the ocean. "It could be worse." But it could definitely be better, too. If he's married to this girl, he wants to remember it - along with the rest of his life.

"Well, we're not going to figure out anything sitting around." He gets to his feet, though he waits a minute, just leaning on the balcony railing again, looking out at the landscape and trying, hard, to remember how they got here. Whether they chose to be here.

Nothing, although the breeze tickling his cheek is nice.

"We should take a look around later, too. Depending on what we find out."

“Maybe getting out of the room will help jog some memories,” she agrees. It’s not like they could have spent much time in their hotel room. There might not be enough that’s familiar there to bring memories back.

She polishes off her pancakes and sets the plate aside. “We’re going to figure this out.”

His lips quirk into that soft smile again, and he glances over at her.

"Yeah. We will." He has to believe that, because he really doesn't like the alternative.

"All I know is, it feels... more complicated than the story we have." Which is just a gut feeling, but it feels like nothing is ever simple. It feels like there's something more going on, like they left something important behind. He just doesn't know what.

"Do we even know where the room keys are?" he asks, finally turning away from the balcony. "Or I'll just leave the door open a crack for you."

It seems important that she can get back in quickly if she needs to, for some reason.

“They usually leave them in an envelope, right? Or I could ask for new keys at the front desk. Since it’s our room, they should give it to us.”

She brings her plate with her and puts it back on the little serving cart when she heads back inside, because she’s not a slob, okay. She thinks.

"They should," he agrees, eyes scanning the room and - there, tucked under the base of the lamp and partially hidden by the phone, is indeed a little envelope with the room number on it.

He pulls out the two plastic keys and offers one over. "I guess that answers that question at least."

He smiles a little wryly, and adds, "Good luck?" Hopefully she'll be able to get something out of them.

“That makes it easier.” At least she only has to convince the front desk to tell her information on who’s paying for them to be here, and not get new room keys. She sighs and slips her key into her jeans pocket. “Thanks. You, too,” she adds, before - after a moment of hesitation - kissing him on the cheek. For good luck.

Jason blinks, and the way he blushes is probably not befitting a guy that is supposed to be married and has received a complimentary basket of "goodies," but he can't help but watch Percy disappear out the door with a dumb smile on his face.

But then it clicks shut, and he gets to work essentially tearing the room apart, looking for anything that might give them some kind of clue as to what's happening and why.

He does, at least, clean up after himself as he goes. So the tearing apart is more metaphorical than anything.

The front desk associate is as annoyingly unhelpful as Percy feared. In fairness, she's very kind, and about as confused as Percy that she's unable to tell her who's paying for their room. The hotel has confirmed that the money's good, though, and anything they put on the hotel bill is covered. She can't say anything about what shape Jason and Percy were in when they checked in, since she wasn't on duty, but she's concerned and sympathetic when Percy says that they don't seem to have much in the way of luggage, and she confirms that the hotel's not holding anything for them.

Percy finds herself bullied kindly into stopping at the hotel's gift shop and picking out a couple shirts to charge to the room, and she returns to the room empty-handed save for. Well. A bag with some new shirts in it.

"You find anything?"

Jason's in the process of slamming one of the three dresser drawers shut; when he turns around, his face looks a little flushed, color high on his cheeks.

"Nothing useful," he says quickly, and his eyes go to the bag in her hand - and thank the gods, a distraction.

(Thank the gods? Is that a thing people normally think?)

"What's that?"

Percy is… definitely suspicious of what Jason found (nothing useful doesn’t mean nothing), but sure, she’ll answer his question first and open the drawer to see for herself soon. “A couple shirts. They were concerned when I said we seemed to have lost our luggage and pointed out I could charge gift shop purchases to the room. Aside from that?” She sets her bag down and sighs. “They can’t tell us who’s paying because of some privacy rule, and they don’t know anything about if we seemed okay when we checked in. Aside from confirming we’re paid for, I got pretty much nothing.”

Well, that's something at least. Jason had not found extra shirts, to be sure.

He does sigh, though, even as he's not entirely surprised she got no new information out of them. That had certainly been the impression he'd gotten on the phone, but there was always the hope that an in-person confrontation might have been more successful.

"So I guess we really are stuck here for now." Sure, newlyweds probably shouldn't think that way, but he's still not sure he really feels like a newlywed. There's too much else clamoring for his attention. "We definitely didn't show up with a lot of supplies. Just, uh. Extra underwear, I guess."

That pink tinge is creeping back into his cheeks.

“Well - we could leave,” she points out. “No one’s keeping us here. But this place is comfortable and comes with food and stuff, so I don’t think leaving early is the best option?”

If he wanted to, though, she’d go with him. Even if they weren’t apparently married, it seems like a good idea to stay together while they figure it out. “Where’s you find the extra underwear?”

It's true - they could leave. He just has no idea where they'd go.

So - she's right, and they both know it. "No, we should stay," he agrees. "I just don't like - not knowing."

But of course, neither does she, he knows.

And then they come back around to the, ah. Underwear. He points to the drawer, because there's no point in hiding it. "I'm not sure it looked all that, uh. Comfortable?"

There hadn't been a whole lot to some of it.

She pulls open the drawer he points to, and looks inside.

And yeah. There it is. Most of the stuff that would be for her is lacy, and pretty see-through, and she's a little suspicious of whether or not those bras would provide a lot of support. They're mostly designed to be ripped off her body, which makes sense for a honeymoon.

She sighs. "I mean. I guess it's not that much worse than what I'm wearing now."

"Oh... it's not?"

Jason cringes as the words come out of his mouth, and he covers his face with one hand. "Sorry. Sorry, that's - rude?"

He thinks. Just like the way his eyes keep wanting to go to her orange t-shirt like maybe they could see through it.

Definitely rude.

"I guess you're set for the next few days, at least."

He would really like to sink through the floor right about now.

"I mean... I don't think it's what I usually wear, but. Yeah. I guess I am."

She's just not going to be that comfortable for the next few days. "You want to go outside? I feel like we're not going to find much else in here."

"Honestly? Yes," Jason breathes. He really does want to get out of this room, even if it's just for a little while.

Plus, they might as well explore the hotel. For more than one reason.

He hesitates, but only for a second before he reaches out, offering his hand to her even as he's reaching for the door to pull it open.

Jason offering his hand is a surprise, but not a bad one. He's cute. He's her husband, somehow. And she's been trying to figure out how she feels about him and about being married to him, and one of the ways to figure that out is definitely experimenting with a little harmless physical affection, right? Maybe it'll trigger a memory.

So after a moment of hesitation, she takes his hand and follows him out.

Relief washes over him when Percy slides her hand into his. It just feels better this way; Jason squeezes her fingers gently and then leads her out into the hall, following the signs to the elevators and down to the main floor, where it seems most of the outdoor amenities are. And he would really like to get outdoors, even if just for a little while.

There is the beach, after all - in fact, it appears that this place has private access to the beach. There's also a pool, according to the map (isn't that a bit much?), a spa, tennis courts... and stables?

His eyebrows shoot up. "This place is huge. And - a lot."

"Only the best for our honeymoon, I guess." Percy is, admittedly, very tempted by the scent of the ocean, but she finds herself unconsciously leading him by the hand in the direction of the stables instead. She's not sure why, even when she notices it, but maybe it's the best idea to follow their instincts. There might be a memory hiding underneath them.

Jason is pretty easily tugged along when their positions reverse; he has no priorities other than getting the lay of the land, so his eyes scan their surroundings as Percy pulls him toward the stables.

Of course, he's starting to wonder the same thing. "Maybe we ride...?" he suggests, as the building comes into view around a bend in the artfully curated path.

“Maybe? This feels familiar.” Well, not this particular set of stables, exactly. But the smell of horses, that’s hitting something in her sense memory, like she’s spent a lot of time around them. “Does it feel familiar to you?”

"I'm... not sure?"

He's not - he doesn't think he minds being around horses, and actually does sort of get the feeling that he can ride one.

And yet there's something odd about that feeling, too. Which seems silly to even admit, since he can't put his finger on it at all.

"But I guess I don't feel bad about any of it, so that's a good sign."

"Maybe."

Some of the horses have been allowed to roam freely in a fenced-in area of grass, and when Percy gets close enough, they trot closer to say hello.

- To say hello literally, as she could swear one of them looks right at her and addresses her as lady, and Percy startles badly.

Jason reaches out on instinct, putting a hand to the small of Percy's back. Every sense is on high alert, every muscle tensed, as his eyes dart around, looking for the threat.

"What is it?"

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