Mario
"Snakes? No, no - *Beetles.* No - *Birds?* Not birds! Nothing rational, no, that would be too much senses. Instead? Instead! The ugliest fucking bugs in the universe - who invented them? Why the hell does Owen insist on putting imagery of them in the album art? I don't fucking get it! I don't! My feet are *Numb*, and my hands are shaking, and good Lord, none of it even matters! What the hell!"

Finley's ranting took place out in the trees, throwing their head back and yelling at the dying light of the evening, shaking their hands at the sky. Owen had dragged their recording *Way* Longer than need be, and, as Hysteria's loyal percussionist, Fin stayed true till the end. However, it did not mean that fiery, fiery rage surely wouldn't reign on the nearest, poor metal trash bin. It had become a bit of a habit, setting the few bins outside ablaze whenever he got a pinch too stressed. 

"What in the *Fuck* Am I supposed to with *Seventy-eight* Four counts? I don't get it. I don't! I'm so fucking lost! God."

He threw a handful of dead leaves into the fire, watching them crackle and crumble up with some kind of fanatical rapture. A long, low sigh that turned into a pitch of laughter brushed the evergreens around them. Silence followed, a moment too long, and they resumed a tense, focused stare on the blaze. Arson had gotten him into this shithole, and it seemed, for now, it was helping them through it. Or, something like that.
Mary
He was... Lost. How was he supposed to know how to get around?? No map, no guide, and as far as he knows no signs showing him where to go either. And now he has ended up in some weird forested area??? 

"How does this even... Get here???" 

Chesil whispers to himself, trying to calm himself down. He saw the smoke rising and was hoping that if he follows it he will find someone who can show him the way to the workshop instead of... Wherever this is. 

Upon coming closer, he hides, listening to the talking. This person sounded insane! He didn't know if this was the right person to ask for a way out. What if they got lost like him and just ended up living here? 

Every single bad situation floods his mind. He hates when he thinks like it but also he is grateful. It keeps him alive. So instead of trying to engage, he tries going right around it. Though his wheel gets caught on a tree root, his chair bucks him right out and onto the ground with a thud. 

Whoops. Crap. Hopefully the other somehow doesn't notice the short guy in the bright orange jacket that just got thrown out of his chair???? Yeah right.
Mario
Finley pauses, all at once, looking up to see an admonished Chesil (who they did not presently know the name of), sprawled out on the decaying pine needles, cloaked in bright orange, and overall, looking discontented.

They took two, three paces towards him, standing over the stranger with a raised, fair brow, their blond hair loose and spread out around their narrow face, blinking blue gaze unimpressed. The previous restlessness hadn't completely left their deposition, but had paused, in favour of whatever this new person was up to.

"You're lost," He said, in a flat tone. "Do you need help, or can you right yourself?"
Mary
Uh oh. He was spotted. This was not good and sent him into a tiny panic. Quickly he starts trying to roll himself back up to the chair, grabbing at the wheel and tugging on it until it gets launched right over the root and hits him in the hip. 

Chesil grunts and pulls himself back into his chair as fast as he can adjusting himself into a comfortable spot, avoiding eye contact at all costs. 

"Lost? Nooo I'm not lost- I mean I am lost- but I'm sure I'll find a way out - I'm not lost—" 

Laughing nervously, he fidgets with his fingers, the ends of his fingertips and the palms of his hands sparking. He was nervous and he made it way too obvious. Just his body language. It spoke for him. 

He holds his hands up in front of him, shaking them lightly, looking the complete opposite direction to Finley. Basically running off of 'if I can't see em, they'll go away'. He was scared. But he's scared of a lot of things. But especially people.
Tanisha
Sorry im a slow typer
Mario
Fin stared at Chesil. They did not suppose he was particularly scary - they're 5'8, built like a twig, *French* - but, as Fin reflected, they were an arsonist. That didn't help his reputation any.

"You're lost," They said. "You're *Lost*, buddy, and my bandmate is driving me *Fucking* Insane." Fin jabbed at their temple with their index finger. "Do I look like I have time for this? Come on. Let's go. I can get you out of here - there's enough wrong with the Cradle without more people getting killed in Sweden. You know, I really don't get the whole lack of security but somehow too much security. They don't care about us but they'll keep us under lock and key! I don't get it. I feel like a criminal."

A little humorless laugh pulled on his face.

"Well, I guess I *Am* A criminal - what are you looking at?"

Finley crossed their arms in Chesil's direction. "Do you need help out of here or not?"
Mary
Chesil was the complete opposite of the other. Small. Taking up as little space as he possibly can. And he wasn't every string either. 

At first, the beginning of the others' blabbering seemed alright. Like they were just trying to help, Chesil gives a small smile which quickly drops as they continue speaking. 

"Sweden?" 

His voice was quivery and shaken, putting his fear right on the sleeve of his bright orange jacket. Criminal??? They were a criminal??? That made Chesil feel far from safe. If he gets on the wrong side of them, he could be done for. 

"Nothing! Nothing!" 

Averting his eyes quickly and putting his hands over his head, holding his head down with his arms, attempting to keep his eyes away from them. 

"Yes! Yes, I do need help-" 

Completely stricken in fear, his body shakes. It wasn't anything too intense but it was still visible. He didn't want to move. He was terrified and felt like a scared deer being stared at through the sight of a gun, knowing well that something bad was about to happen.
Mario
"My god. Are you that dense?"

Finley stared incredulously at Chesil, who struck them as a sniveling, wobbly mess, completely and utterly lost. It was horrific, to Fin, who had been at the Cradle much longer than they would have ever first imagined they would. They put out their fire by slapping a lid on top of the bin, trusting the lack of oxygen would suffocate it.

"You're in fucking Sweden, dipshit - all of us are criminals. That's why we're *Here*. We have something wrong with our funky little bodies that makes us do something we're not supposed to be able to do, and we got rounded up and sent out here. I don't know how you got here without understanding you're a literal menace to society."

The entire situation made Fin consider smoking a cigarette. 

"Stop whimpering. You're in the fucking woods, not Slenderman. Let's go."

They turned and stalked off back towards campus, somehow *More* Irritated than when they'd first gotten outside. And they had to put out their fire! Awful.
Mary
His arms were crossed in front of his face at this point, forearms facing Fin. If he were a turtle he'd be going further and further into that shell of his. But for now it's a metaphorical shell. And after this it's going to take a while for him to come back out of it. 

"I'm not a criminal- it was an accident! I didn't do anything wrong. " 

Chesil chose to ignore Fin calling him dense. He didn't like that word. He's not dense. He's not slow. He's a smart guy just.. Not socially. It definitely hurt to get called dense though. He just wouldn't say it. 

For a minute, he falls silent, listening to the rest of Fins little frustration fest. He did not like them. They said mean things and in a mean way. It wasn't sugar coated or anything. And Chesil wasn't a fan. But again, he would never say that. 

"You-" 

Well maybe he was going to say it this time around? But that would be a good step in the wrong direction. So he stops himself. 

"Nevermind" 

He mumbles underneath his breath, moving his hands to his wheels and hanging his head low as he begins to follow Fin. He tried to stay as low as he could