[center][hr][h3][color=c4df9b]Martin Cromwell.[/color][/h3] By the campfire. [hider=Interactions][@Atrophy][/hider][hr] Mosquitoes. God, he was [i]itchy.[/i] He'd showed up late to begin with, caught in the lag of another restless night, and now he was being eaten alive by parasitic insects. It hadn't taken long for the swarm to descend upon him and now he was [i]itchy[/i] and uncomfortable. He could feel his tolerance for the wilderness lowering by the moment, it was a bad way to start the night. In theory, this had been a great idea. In practice, not so much. It took a surprising amount of focus to be inconspicuous. The first rule of remaining unseen was to be as glaringly normal as possible, he had accomplished that by sitting amongst the others who were gathered near the fire. The second rule of remaining unseen was to keep all of his reactions on par with his surrounding company. That was the easy part, it was hard [i]not[/i] to look up when a girl addressed the entirety of them with a bottle of vodka clutched in one lazy hand. The third rule of remaining unseen was to mostly keep his mouth shut, this one was give or take. If he was too silent, he became [i]moody Martin[/i], if he had too much to say then suddenly he was sociable. It was all very calculated, not natural at all. Sometimes he wondered if anonymity was even worth it, though he tried to remind himself that he had been in a much worse position before it. The unnatural sensation of being so close to so many people was making his skin crawl, or maybe that was just the mosquitoes. It was getting harder and harder to tell the difference. The taste of bitter nail polish chipping onto his tongue shook him from thoughts about insects and being asocial. He had unintentionally started gnawing at his thumb nail, [i]gross.[/i] Lowering his hand to his lap forcefully, he drew his gaze over the surrounding attendees. He could recognize faces, he could even put a name to some of them but he barely [i]knew[/i] any of them. He watched a girl leap to her feet nearby, as quick and nimble as a faery. He recognized her as Tuyen. He had only spoke with her once but she had a memorable look about her, he watched as she joined the growing group near the alcohol. He felt his anxiety spread, wondering where Rita was. He didn't want to cling to her for the whole trip because he was sure she'd want to spread her wings without him following her around everywhere but he found himself wanting her company. It was strange how familiar her presence had become. Sucking in his cheeks, he rose from his safe position. He was mostly hoping to shake the mosquitoes off but he also needed to move around before he went insane, he stepped back from the log that he'd been settled on. No longer nestled amongst the other people, he stood out like a sore thumb, or at least that was how it felt. He was clad in his usual black on black, trying to fade into the night was easier if it was already hard to decipher his frame amongst the shadows. He was quickly becoming overwhelmed in his surrounding company. Luckily, it was then that he spotted Rita, she just so happened to be taking an aggressive swig of vodka. Her smile was a flash of white teeth in the darkness, but she retreated from the scene quickly and took a seat. He headed her way, trying to duck through the crowd as carefully as possible. Taking the spot beside her with exaggerated flourish, he flashed a smile and cupped his chin in his hand. "[color=c4df9b]Hello, beautiful,[/color]" he said dramatically, voice warm and amused. "[color=c4df9b]You come here often?[/color]" He was fond of Rita, she was probably one of the only people that he was fond enough of to address so easily. He was much more in his element when she was around and it was hard not to just be himself with her. "[color=c4df9b]I was just about to [i]die[/i] from unpleasant company and probably West Nile virus with the amount of mosquito bites that I've received tonight, before I saw you. You're my hero, Rita.[/color]"[/center]