[ ooc; it happens, no worries! it's always possible that something spooks Jeremy and he takes off running in a panic during another monster encounter or something, could be before or after reaching the camp, it's all good. ]
It's pitiful, really, but it does help. Large, screeching beasts swooping in from overhead wasn't something he could deal with very well. Even if it was a real, physical creature, and not one made of broken scrap metal and loud static. It was similar enough to warrant flashbacks of the day that particular bot got the better of him, and nearly bit his head clean off - the scars across his forehead and under his chin were evidence of that event, an obvious sign of trauma.
He feels pathetic, whenever something freaks him out like that. Sometimes it didn't take much at all. Even changing radio stations was difficult. But because that's all it could take, it made him feel utterly useless. He couldn't do much of anything without trying to figure out potential triggers that would set him off. And here, in the arenas, anything could happen.
But, having someone there with a word of reassurance, it helped. Even if it sometimes felt like an adult telling a child there were no monsters under the bed, easing a few of the worries off his mind was a step forward. Daryl seemed nice enough about it, not prying too much and just trying to help. Jeremy relaxes a little and nods his head quietly, and while mushrooms aren't his first dietary choice, there aren't too many options out here.
"Y-Yeah. You're tellin' me," he answers, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a small bite of the mushroom. Though he hesitates to answer the second question. It's true, people here were from all sorts of different worlds with many different experiences, but how is he supposed to explain an oddity like Freddy Fazbear's and all the mysteries and strangeness within like that? "You wouldn't ... believe me," he eventually settles on, another pause before adding: "... they w-were haunted."
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It's pitiful, really, but it does help. Large, screeching beasts swooping in from overhead wasn't something he could deal with very well. Even if it was a real, physical creature, and not one made of broken scrap metal and loud static. It was similar enough to warrant flashbacks of the day that particular bot got the better of him, and nearly bit his head clean off - the scars across his forehead and under his chin were evidence of that event, an obvious sign of trauma.
He feels pathetic, whenever something freaks him out like that. Sometimes it didn't take much at all. Even changing radio stations was difficult. But because that's all it could take, it made him feel utterly useless. He couldn't do much of anything without trying to figure out potential triggers that would set him off. And here, in the arenas, anything could happen.
But, having someone there with a word of reassurance, it helped. Even if it sometimes felt like an adult telling a child there were no monsters under the bed, easing a few of the worries off his mind was a step forward. Daryl seemed nice enough about it, not prying too much and just trying to help. Jeremy relaxes a little and nods his head quietly, and while mushrooms aren't his first dietary choice, there aren't too many options out here.
"Y-Yeah. You're tellin' me," he answers, shrugging his shoulders as he takes a small bite of the mushroom. Though he hesitates to answer the second question. It's true, people here were from all sorts of different worlds with many different experiences, but how is he supposed to explain an oddity like Freddy Fazbear's and all the mysteries and strangeness within like that? "You wouldn't ... believe me," he eventually settles on, another pause before adding: "... they w-were haunted."
It sounds ridiculous saying it out loud.