#the language barrier was represented by Evans speaking Malay (lazy to come up with a conlang)

[2g-1k]

2G1K - Chapter 3 "Panic! At the Cottage"

Aforementioned 2 guys have interactions. Brackets "[]" indicate that bro is speaking another language he doesn't understand. Evans speaks English. Callen does not. Sadly, it would be absurd to write Callen's POV in another language entirely.

Masterpost

The morning daylight spilled from the windows, illuminating the place in a soft, warm glow. Motes of dust drifted lazily in the air, before finally settling down on already dusty surfaces of the little cottage.

One such surface was upon Callen’s body, lying down on the floor a dishevelled mess, covered in sweat, shielding his eyes from the blinding rays of the sun.

It may not be the window’s fault for the sun’s brightness, though all the same Callen still, very badly, wished to throw a rock at the window for letting any light in.

He should probably invest in some curtains, in any case.

Using the wall to support his weight, Callen groggily stood up. A new contender for his daily rock-throwing target has shown up: the Floor. He might as well have slept on a bed of spikes, the way he woke up feeling. He made a mental note to kick the floor later.

With his difficulty in falling asleep, Callen wondered how he was able to sleep on the damn floor of all places, when he barely could in his bed. Maybe yesterday’s fright or something, I guess, Callen thought, and then promptly froze up.

Shit. Shit. How did I fucking forget the shit that happened yesterday. Fuck. What was that big fucking eye at the window.

Conveniently forgetting his muscle aches he raced upstairs to the window in his bedroom and looked outside- nothing was there. The sun continued to shine, the trees swayed in the breeze, and the birds- very noisily- continued to chirp. There was nothing out of the ordinary from what Callen could see, and it relieved him, for the most part, but also, it worried him. He wondered if it was just all some really elaborate hallucination his brain invented, and if so, what caused this? Is he sick? Maybe.

Or… He reasoned with himself, it was just a very vivid dream after a very tiring day. 

Taking one deep breath in an attempt to calm down, he assured himself again that it was just one, terrible, vivid dream. 

Having a suspiciously normal breakfast by the table, the warm sunlight beckoned Callen to go outside. 

So what did Callen do?

He opened the door.

SLAM!

And he shut it immediately.

Callen’s heart was about to jump off his body and fly off into the sun.

“It- It was real. Holy sh-shit.”

The fear that was forgotten yesterday started seeping back inside him, his body, his memories. The knocks on the roof. Callen felt like someone had deprived him of oxygen, breathing, yet a futile effort- no amount of air inhaled helped him feel he was actually breathing.

The large, green eye, staring at him across the window. The chills its piercing gaze brought upon burned itself deep in Callen’s memories, and what he saw resurfaced the suppressed emotions of last night. He felt all warmth seep away from his body, his hands cold, clammy, and covered in sweat.

Hands trembling with residual fear, Callen poured himself a glass of water with much difficulty.

Trembling hands set the empty glass down and clutched Callen’s head instead. Callen, who was trying his best to not lose his consciousness, navigated through his memories and thoughts and primal fear, trying his absolute best to keep a level head. The light from the window dimmed, as if it was making an attempt to calm him down.

There is a- a really huge person- the size of which is so tall that is impossible to guess- sleeping right outside my house.

He took the deepest breath he could muster.

My house can barely reach its knees! He could destroy my house, smash it into bits, kill me in multiple ways- and it will take no effort at all!

The deep breath was not helping him regain his composure.

I am so fucked if I keep staying here until th- that thing wakes up.

Callen could not stay here, he figured. He needed to escape to the nearest town and seek help- though he didn’t know what to do next either way. The large being sleeping outside his house could probably take on an army of soldiers and still stand victorious, no doubt about it.

Barely Religious Callen decided it was a very necessary day to be religious today, and prayed to the gods above to kindly protect him. If I don’t die, he thought, I’ll be religious from now on.

Callen had never been a thief. In spite of that, one might think otherwise: with utmost stealth, he turned the doorknob and slowly pushed the door open while it threatened to creak, followed by quick footsteps that were as loud as a rock on the ground. Sparing a glance at the giant watching him, he scurried away as fast as his legs could run.

Hold up! Callen did a double take.

It was at this moment Callen knew that he was, by all means, fucked.

Sitting among the fields, taller than everything Callen could see, was the currently awake gigantic being that haunted his night, and now his present reality. Backlit by the sunlight, it cast a heavenly glow on the giant being, and for a moment Callen wondered if he was a god. His focus shifted towards the giant’s appearance, noticing his hair, golden as the wheat fields in autumn, reflecting the sun’s equally golden rays. His face, pale and fair- yet glowed in shades of red and pink.

And his eyes- his gaze entirely focused on Callen.

Callen, not willing to stay and hear the verdict of whatever god this giant man could be, bolted as fast as he could, hoping to at least escape the shadow cast by the giant god that loomed over him and his house.

At the edge of his peripheral vision he saw movement, and felt a brief gust of wind rush past him.

Callen ran faster and crashed facefirst into a wall that was soft, leathery…and weirdly cold, for that matter.

The large hand curled around him, and effortlessly picked Callen up as easily as Callen would a paintbrush. On the other hand, Callen struggled and wriggled and kicked and pushed with all his remaining energy, yet nothing posed so much as an inconvenience to the giant.

He simply continued to watch in amazement as he unfurled his hand, revealing a very disoriented Callen.

Callen was at his wits’ end now. At the mercy of the giant with no way of leaving, he could only hope the giant understood him.

“Put. Me. DOWN!”

The hand did not budge. Instead, a gigantic finger intercepted Callen’s line of sight, and invited itself to assault him without even bothering to ask for permission! Callen pushed the finger away, and the giant complied, though the finger returned a moment later to feel his hair. The hopeless struggle between man and finger continued, until Callen, who refused to accept this any longer, finally slapped the finger as hard as he could.

Forcing himself to lock eyes with the giant- or at least one of the eyes- Callen tried to make the angriest expression he could while glaring at the giant, one hand pointing towards the ground, his message clear: PUT ME DOWN.

Inside, Callen feared for his life, scared that he had angered the giant, that he would decide him a nuisance and kill him for it.

So when the only response from the giant was a soft chuckle, he was equal parts relieved and annoyed. I can’t even be taken seriously in this economy for fuck’s sake! Regardless, the giant did set his hand down and Callen scrambled off as fast as he could with his shaky legs- then proceeded to trip on the soft surface of the hand and fell with a splat! onto the grass, earning another laugh from the giant.

The cold, dewy grass of the morning contrasted with Callen’s red hot face burning from embarrassment. 

And he found himself assisted by those damned fingers again, helping him stand upright!

“FUCK YOU!” Callen swatted at the fingers. “I can stand on my own, thank you very much!”

As Callen was about to sprint away at full speed to anywhere that was not the direction of the giant, the finger returned, tapping him on the arm for his attention.

“What the fuck do you want?” Called grumbled, mostly to himself. “No, you are not allowed to assault me.” Turning around to make eye contact again, he noticed the giant looked slightly nervous. What is there to be nervous about when you’re the size of a mountain anyway? “You’re a giant, possibly a god for all I know and care, you don’t need my help.”

[“Do you know where I can find water?”]

“What?”

He watched as the giant mimicked the action of drinking from a cup. You want water? “It’s that way,” Callen replied, pointing north, “there’s a lake beyond the mountains.” He contemplated showing him the way there, but decided it was absolutely ridiculous, and he was supposed to escape in the first place.

Callen began to run away as the giant got up.

[“Thank you!”]

Callen did not look back as he continued to run, and he did not look back when he heard the gradually fading footsteps of the giant. He was still scared, perhaps, but maybe the giant isn’t going to kill him anytime soon.

Either way, it doesn’t matter, because he is not going home tonight.