a_shadow | Savrou IC Contact

hi, i saw that we’re both teaching.

i don’t really know how that works here, so if there's anything established that'd be cool to know. i don't think you get paid to teach teachers, but i don't think any of us get paid at all? so i appreciate it either way.

It's not something they had set up when I was here before, so I'm not really sure what they're going for. I'm supposed to make up the lessons, but they haven't told me what to teach.

you've been here before?

and i guess there's probably no standard multiversal curriculum huh. ok i asked the third teacher if she had any ideas. if not i guess we can always just ask what people want to learn. or wing it.

... do they actually care if you do your job?

They do, but I don't know that we would get in much trouble if we didn't find anything to teach people. They're basically asking us to be experts in all the areas of running this ship and that's a lot to ask.

I do know there's a library now, though. At least we'll be able to find material there.

yeah i guess beggars can't be choosers

i've been looking at the books. so long as we're careful about their origins, it should be helpful

that we have no idea when new students show up makes group work rough, though. and no clue on what skill levels out there. if you guys agree we should do a survey or something. then we can work out classes and if there's a big gap idk look for volunteers

Would you be willing to put a survey together for that then?

[ Now you're speaking the language of the pointlessly type-A, Tex. ]

sure, i'll stick it up on the MIDs. then we can go from there

Sounds good.

[ late, late, late into the night of the 14th, church drops a carefully but clumsily wrapped package off at tex's door for her to find later. the package is wrapped in brown packing paper and contains a few chocolates swiped from the valentine's day party along with a couple books (romantic classics) he "borrowed" from the moira's library.

tucked into the cover of one of the books is a hastily scrawled note, mysteriously unsigned: ]

"happy valentine's day

by the way these books are from the library so once you're done with them you should probably return them
or don't i don't care

if you don't return them though i did sign your name out for them"

[ at the end of the note, there's a very heavily crossed out "xoxo" that tex may or may not be able to make out. ]

[ The package is found by Tex's roommates, coming in from the party, and it's by process of elimination that they figure out the box is meant for her. She sends a response the next morning. ]

I know you were making do with what you had available but for future reference a present that's entirely free isn't the best way to impress me.

[ well excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse him ]

i'm pretty sure i have no idea what you're talking about

I guess I'll have to keep an eye out for a secret admirer, then. I mean, if it wasn't you. Whoever it was kind of knew what kind of book I like.

wow did someone actually get you something? congrats tex i guess you're not completely horrible to everyone all the time

[ and then a minute later: ]

i mean you did only get one gift right like there weren't multiple?

[ because if there WERE, he's totally going to have to kick someone's ass. ]

Edited 2016-02-16 00:45 (UTC)

Maybe I've been trying something new. Save the horribleness for the ex, be nice to everyone else.

It doesn't matter if I got more than one if they weren't from you, does it?

no
i'm just wondering

and you know me my curiosity won't be sated til you give me an answer so what is it tex do you have more than one admirer

[ ugh, that word. bad choice. gotta follow it up with something shitty. ]

not that this mysterious other guy is an admirer who knows maybe he just felt sorry for you

Saying you pity me is a good way to get this gift shoved down your throat.

[ oops. ]

did i say sorry for you? autocorrect sorry i meant RESPECTS you

Right.

Anyway, I guess I have a mystery on my hands since none of it was you.

sure as hell do

good luck with that

I'm sure they won't miss just one of these knives

Edited 2016-03-12 01:17 (UTC)

Hey, uh, Tex?

I basically just got told to go fuck myself six ways to Sunday by someone who claims I don't remember them and I'm wondering if you might be able to fill me in a little? Because I'm really confused.

I get that he's probably from somewhere in the future compared to me, but even a little bit of context would be appreciated if you know anything about it? He said something about saving my life, and I feel bad for having no idea what he's talking about.

[ It was bound to come down to this sooner or later, mainly because she knows Church can't keep his damn mouth shut. So it'll all come out now, she supposes. ]

I guess you've met Church then. I suppose that name will mean something to you.

Church? No, not really... He gave me the strong feeling that it should, though.

And I wouldn't say we met so much as he attacked me through text in my inbox. But yeah. That mean you know him?

I know him. And he did save your life. If I were you I'd be happy attacking you through text is all he did, because you killed him right after.

...I did?

[ That's...definitely news to him. That part didn't get mentioned in the whole fit that was thrown in his inbox. And it's officially thrown more confusion into the equation. Why...would he kill someone who saved his life? That really doesn't sound like something he'd ever do...

What the hell happens in the future? ]

I didn't know that. He didn't mention it. Now I feel worse for something I haven't even done yet.

What happened? Or is this one of those things that you can't or won't tell me because it might mess up the timeline or something, like in sci-fi movies?

Look, I'm going to be real clear, because you don't seem to know things I expect you to know and I don't want to confuse things. I'm an AI. Church is an AI, called the Alpha. The break-in on the Mother was me trying to rescue him because the Director was torturing him to get AI fragments out of him. I left him behind though, and they sent him to a simulation base instead as a soldier. That was their idea of hiding him.

I don't know all the details about how you found him. But you remember how I told you Maine was trying to gather the AIs up? He eventually got me too. You came along after to stop him. It's just for whatever reason you decided your plan had to include using an EMP on all the AIs. I don't know how you found Church but you must have been searching for the Alpha to finish your plan off. Both Church and me were destroyed in the EMP. Or, we should have been. We woke up here instead.

[ None of what he gets is remotely expected. And he almost loses track of the rest of it when she tells him she and Church are AIs. Those words resonate with him and for a few minutes he has to stop reading because he literally can't focus. His mind is going a mile a minute.

Alpha. Alpha. The torture, ripping AI fragments out of him-- He remembers it. He can feel it. A hand goes to his head as Wash finds a long series of memories flowing over him, over the wall he's put up, forcing him to face them. How everything was his fault, how agents were dying, and it was all his fault... And no matter what, no matter how hard he tried, she always got killed. Texas. Beta.

It's a good thing the MID is connected to his wrist, because at this point, it would be falling from his hand and to the floor with the level his hands are shaking. It's all coming back, everything Epsilon showed him--at least everything dealing with Alpha. With Texas. ]

No... I don't

[ He's not sure where he's going with that, hence the abrupt end to the sentence. Alpha. Alpha's alive, he's here... Texas too. But what does that make him? The memories, they were Alpha's, but he's not-- ]

I remmemberr. ALpha...alive? Andd youu...

[ Shaking hands make for typos that Wash can't be bothered to fix right now. Wash. Right. That's... That's who he is, not Alpha, not Eps--

Deep breath. A long series of deep breaths. He needs to calm down, needs to read the rest of the text. Once he feels like he's stabilized himself enough to do so, he glances back at his MID and very slowly, word by word, reads through the second half of what Tex has sent. He's still shaking, still a little lost, but he's a bit more in his right mind. Enough so that he can try to understand and reply more properly to her. ]

--Sorry. Sorry. I don't know what came over me...

So I... I found the Alpha while Maine had all the fragments? And Church is the Alpha. And to stop Maine, I set off an EMP which, naturally, destroyed you all.

...I didn't know. Obviously. But I'm sorry. I'm sure I wouldn't have done that unless there was no other choice. I'd never want to destroy you.

[ Not Texas. Not Allison. --...? What? No, no, that's... ]

Any of you, I mean.

[ Her impatience had been out of place. When his staggered, fragmented messages come through she is stricken with the mistake. She should have broken that more gently. A lot more gently.

She knows what Epsilon was, and even if Wash somehow wasn't recalling things, unlocking it that way was cruel. ]

I shouldn't have said it that way, Wash.

Look, do you want to talk about this? In person, I mean. Would that help?

I don't

...I don't know.

[ He's still shaking and sweaty and struggling with things. He's not sure now is the best time for getting up and trying to walk anywhere.

On the other hand, he wouldn't mind seeing her. No, scratch that, he really wants to see her. Plus, it...might be easier to work things out, talking face to face. Maybe. ]

I don't want to take up your time. I know you don't like to waste your time, especially with talking, so I don't want to put you out just because I'm [ Losing it? ] having trouble understanding. It's not like it's your job to help me understand what happens in the future.

But if it's not actually any inconvenience... I mean, I wouldn't mind. It. Might help.

[ She's working on the planet, still helping to kill the whales, but this gives her a reason to return to the ship. She doesn't respond to his words, what comes across as begging her to indulge him. It's clear enough he wants the chance to talk. ]

Meet me at the ship's bar at 2000 hours.

[ At the appointed time, Tex is already there, sipping on a rum and soda. ]

[ Punctual as ever, Wash turns up at 2000 hours exactly, looking a little dishevelled in his ship uniform. He looks tired and almost a little haggard as he approaches Tex, slipping into the seat across from her.

Even just seeing her face is a little hard on him after the day he's had, as it drags up a series of emotions that he's far too tired to get into describing at this point. Not that it means he isn't happy to see her--in fact, the overwhelming conclusion, aside from a few anguishing emotions in the background, is that he's pleased to see her. ]

Hey.

[ He greets her shortly, not really sure what else to say. There feels like so much in his head that he wants to say, yet at the same time it feels like a blank slate. Clearing his throat, Wash rubs at a temple briefly before looking across the table with a slight smile. ]

Thanks. For doing this, I mean. I know you probably didn't want to-- Anyway, I appreciate it. That was all...a lot to swallow at once...

[ She gives him a conciliatory look as he babbles, not feeling as sympathetic as she wishes she could. She knows it's her fault he looks so drawn. She waits until he finishes speaking and lets out a small sigh. ]

Don't do that. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be.

[ That shuts him up. Like, keeps his mouth shut even after she's finished talking for a few moments as he peers across at her, then glances down at the table with a nod. ]

Okay. Sorry.

[ He wants to thank her again all the same, but bites his tongue to refrain. ]

So. It must not have been so great to see me when I replied to your network post, huh?

I knew you were here. I saw you on the manifest. I knew I'd hear from you, sooner or later.

[ She takes a small sip of her drink, then gives him a slight nod, tilting her head. ]

I know it was a lot to take in. And I know you've been through a lot. The Project didn't leave anyone untouched. I just don't know what happened between... [ a small pause in hesitation ] Epsilon, and what you did when you faced the Meta.

I know, but... I mean, with what I did, you couldn't have been looking forward to it...

[ The person who destroyed her? He's not sure how he'd feel in her shoes, but he knows that Texas is a...well, she holds grudges, and now that he knows what happened to her before she wound up here... He's got the feeling she wasn't so thrilled to know he was here, too. ]

I'm...still kind of taking it in, to be honest. [ He flinches a little at the mention of Epsilon, but takes a few long, deep breaths to keep him from falling back into that chaos that's bubbling just underneath the surface of his rational thoughts. ] I-- I hadn't realized how bad things were. I didn't know until--

[ ...Until Epsilon showed him just how bad things were, and just how corrupt the Project was. And even then, he's been blocking it out, putting up a barrier in his mind to prevent any of that from getting through. But now that some of it has... He understands a little better Tex's anger during their first interaction on the ship. ]

I don't expect you to know everything. If... If things went as bad as it sounds like they did, it would've been hard to keep tabs on anyone else. All I wanted to know was why the Alph-- Church is so angry with me. ...And I guess where you had come from, along the timeline. But I didn't have any intention on pressing for that...

Well. Now you know. The answer to both of those questions.

[ She tilts her glass, looking at it, then back at him. ]

And no, I wasn't looking forward to hearing from you. But it's a bit different, knowing you are from some point in my past. I can't expect you to answer for actions you didn't take, actions that from your point of view are unexplainable. So...in that sense, I don't blame you.

[ How could she? It wouldn't be fair. She wants to be able to blame him, but it's just not something she can place on him. Not now. ]

Are there any other questions you have for me? I know I broke things a bit harshly.

Yeah, I guess I do.

[ It's honestly a relief to hear what she has to say as she continues. She doesn't blame him. At least, not this version of him. Down the line, he'd have to answer for what he did, but for now... They're okay?

Probably still a shaky okay, but. Better than her blaming him.

He releases a soft breath that shows his relief there, only to end up glancing across at her in surprise when she opens up to answering questions for him. Boy, does he have a lot of questions. More than he realizes, even. But he's not so sure he wants to get the answers to a lot of them.

Considering how just the mention of the AIs, the Alpha, had sent him spiralling earlier, he's...scared to go back down that road. Question what he'd remembered. ]

You... You said you broke back in to see Al--...Church. Why didn't you take him with you? I mean, if you knew what they were doing to us. [ ...No. No, that's wrong. ] Me. --Him. Why didn't you take him with you, if you had the chance to save him?

[ Her expression goes hard as he stumbles his way through that question. Goddammit. She'd tell him it's none of his business but really, in a sick, twisted way, it was his business. The Director had gone and made it Washington's business when he implanted Epsilon. To the point where Wash couldn't even differentiate the fact that it hadn't been him these things had happened to when he starts talking about it.

Once he's done speaking she looks at him for a moment and finally responds in a low tone. ]

I don't know what to think of you.

[ She flattens her lips into a line and then frowns. It's not his fucking fault. Whatever was going on in his head, it was something caused by what the Director had done. The memories, the lack of them, whatever.

When she speaks again, her tone is softer, with less of an edge to it, her gaze cast to one side. ]

I was too late. [ The admission crosses her lips reluctantly. ] When I found him, he didn't know who I was. Or...who he was, even. He told me he was too tired to come with me, so. I left him. It's...what I had to do.

[ Even after the words have left his lips, the question is out there, Wash curses himself for it. Not for the question itself, but for...getting confused in the act of asking it. He's had a few moments here and there since arriving where he's struggled knowing which one of the voices in his head he is, but this is the first time it's been difficult enough to tell that it's actually...shown.

Tex's words are met with silence for a few moments before Wash offers an unamused smile, almost a grimace, in return. ]

Neither do I right now.

[ He's got no fucking clue what to make of himself. What to make of the noise in his head. Any of it. He feels like he's caught in some sort of internal whirlwind and he's not sure how to get back out. At least before he'd had...some amount of control over things, but that seems to be slipping quickly.

He listens to her answer, though, able to focus on that. His eyes watch her face closely, seeking out emotion, and he nods slowly as she finishes. ]

I want to say that maybe it was better for him that way. [ But maybe he'd need to get to know Church before really knowing the answer to that. ] --I'm sorry. For asking. I just...there are a lot of questions. A lot of them are personal.

[ For who they're personal for, he doesn't say. But really? For more people than there should be. ]

That's right, they are.

[ She takes a sip of the drink, angling her face downward as she considers what else she might say. She sniffs and sets her drink down, pushing her hair back off her forehead with a swipe of a finger as she looks back at Wash. ]

Eventually, he managed to paste together some pieces of memories he'd been left with and probably some false memories the Director planted. He came to see me as his ex. I didn't see any reason to argue with what he remembered. It was safer for him—for his psyche—to let him roll with what he remembered.

[ He instantly wants to apologize again when she replies the way she does, but refrains. He's got the feeling his constant apologizing would just annoy her. ]

Yeah, I guess it would be.

[ Actually, Wash is getting the feeling he knows it would be, considering...the events of the day. He's been dealing with some screwed up memories a little since waking up back on the Mother, but today it was like they all just...broke through the floodgates.

If... If Epsilon was Alpha's memories, then no doubt whatever was left after that was in rough shape mentally. But Wash shakes his head, trying to clear it from thinking down that path. Too dangerous.

Either way, he gets what she means. ]

So. Church... What does he actually know? I mean, does he know any of this, or is he still...kind of blissfully unaware?

He seemed to know what it meant to be the Alpha when we finally came back together. As far as I know he still doesn't remember it though—he just knows the concept of who he is.

[ Another slow, thoughtful sip. ]

We didn't have much time to talk.

That makes sense.

[ His eyes follow her glass as she takes a drink, taking time to consider her words.

No, Church wouldn't remember anything about being Alpha, because all those memories were removed. ...In the form of a certain fragment. ]

But he still remembers you. [ He speaks more quietly now, staring at her glass without really looking at it now--almost zoned out. ] You must leave a really strong impression. Not even losing all of his memories will remove you from his life-- We could never...

[ Pause. Frown. Head shake. ]

He could never forget Allison.

[ She frowns, raising her hand to her face and swiping her palm across her mouth thoughtfully. She lowers her hand again and lays it flat on the table. She wants to be angry with Wash for using Allison's name, for inserting himself that way with the use of the word 'we'...but he's not the one who inserted himself in this whole thing. He's not the one who appropriated those memories for himself, not the one who stole them away from Church.

She sighs. ]

I don't understand it all. I have to be honest about that. What was taken from him? What was left? I don't know.

I don't know either.

[ Wash shakes his head; he assumed Epsilon was all of Alpha's memories. But if he still has some, at least of the Director's life and Tex... He has to wonder if those are just part of who Alpha is. Things that can't be taken away. Things that are just...in his programming. ]

Whatever the case, he's better off without what was taken.

[ He says it without really thinking, his voice still quiet as when he mentioned Allison. There's a concerned and slightly fearful look that crosses his face for a few moments, but then he manages to recompose and offer a shaky, rather bitter smile. ]

I feel like they might keep a person from functioning. Maybe even destroy them.

[ She eyes him, then shakes her head slightly. ]

Whatever those memories have in them, I know you managed to push through.

[ She's not going to address the fact that Church is broken, and that's why he is without those memories. That doesn't seem much like a winning scenario to her. But at least he was able to protect himself. Washington didn't have that option, and so she needs to be understanding. ]

Anyway...if you need anything...I'll do what I can to help.

[ It's a bit reluctant, because yes, she's a bit mad at his future self for deciding to use an EMP on her, but holding that over his head wouldn't really be fair. ]

[ He's quiet for a few long moments after she tells him that. She would know, wouldn't she? She's seen him in the future, she knows what happens to him, at least to an extent. While it's a bit comforting, he still finds himself worried and afraid of what's in his head. Even if he gets through it all in the end, it's not going to be a fun process.

Instead of really answering, he just nods a few times, finding he hasn't really got any words to reply with. However, when Tex continues, his head lifts quickly--a surprised jerk of a movement, and he stares over at her like he almost can't believe what he just heard.

--It's not that he thinks anything bad about Texas ~~he only has good things to say about her~~, it's that... He knows she's not much for this kind of stuff. Being there, helping people, talking... So hearing her offer that just...kind of blows his mind for a minute. ]

Really? --I mean, thanks. I appreciate that. Really.

[ And for a second, he's staring across at her with a smile--a real one. But for that second, she's not Texas, she's Allison. She's the love of his life.

Then he blinks, brows furrowing. No, wrong. She's Texas. She's a teammate and...maybe a friend. And he's not Leonard, he's Washington. Fuck. ]

But you don't... You don't have to do that. I-I know that's not your thing, really. [ Fuck again. He's stammering because he's shaken. That last memory... That whole thing has him more freaked out than he wants to let show. He keeps his face surprisingly composed, but his body is trembling slightly as he comes down from the shock. ] And I'd hate to-- To drag you into anything. You're not here to be my therapist.

[ But he's starting to think he should find one... ]

[ And that, right there, is why she was so reluctant to say that. She rolls her eyes at his initial reaction, giving him a flat look. And when his reaction after that is to low-key freak out, she purses the corners of her mouth and lets an exhale out her nose. ]

Yeah, you know. Do whatever you're going to do. I'm here; I said I'm willing.

[ She picks up her drink and drains the rest of it before setting the glass down. ]

I do know of someone on the ship who's doing hypnotherapy. Maybe that would help you. More than anything I could do, because yeah, you're right. I'm not exactly the best person to help you.

[ Especially with those looks he gives her from time to time. Those are pure, unadulterated looks of adoration and she knows exactly where they're coming from. It unnerves her, and she's not exactly thrilled at the idea of spending time with someone who is going to be letting that sort of emotion influence him. It's probably better if they stay apart, to be frank. ]

Right. Thanks. I'll keep it in mind.

[ He nods quickly, still appreciating her offer, but getting that feeling that she's annoyed with him blabbering on like that. Still trembling, he balls up his hands in his lap and lets his gaze sit on the glass she's just set down. That's a safe place to look, right? To help him...straighten things out in his head. ]

Hypnotherapy? [ That has him glancing back up curiously. ] ...I don't know. I mean, it might. I've never really tried it before.

[ But he's never really had any reason before. And if this whole thing keeps up, these struggles in his head--and he doesn't see them going away just by sleeping them off tonight--he should probably be willing to give it a try. Plus, it would be more than anything Tex can do for him. She actually probably does more damage than help, inadvertently, and they probably should stay apart.

But he doesn't want that. He probably couldn't count the number of reasons why on just two hands, but he knows that at least one of them is his own, and it's because he wants to be her friend. ]

Maybe you could introduce us. ...Or even just give me their name and I can call their MID. I think it's probably worth a try, whether it ends up working or not.

[ She's trying so hard not to be irritable at him. It's not fair to him to treat him like he's doing this on purpose, or something. ]

Have you had any chance to try?

[ She doesn't know what would be the most helpful, but they have to make due with what's available here.

In any case, she flicks her finger across her MID and sends Wash Ocelot's contact information. ]

[ He can kind of sense her tenseness, and it makes him feel bad, honestly. He knows he's the cause of it, and it kind of makes him want to slink away and leave her be. But of course, at the same time, he doesn't want to leave. ]

No.

[ He shakes his head and glances down at the contact information as his MID receives it. Making a note of it, planning to contact the guy sometime soon, he looks back across the table at Tex. ]

...It's getting late. I don't want to keep you here longer than I already have... [ ~~yes he does~~ ] Maybe we should call it a night.

[ She nods slowly. ]

Yeah. You've had a lot to take in.

[ She finishes her drink and rises. ]

Let me know how things work out with the therapy.

i put in for a room reassignment. it's not personal, i just don't think it's helpful for either of us right now.

[ She's been sleeping in the classroom more nights than not — even before this latest fire. ]

i'll be in 015 down the hall if you need anything.

Not like it changes much. But thanks for letting me know.

it wasn't mean to. but it seemed like a dick move not to let you know about a free bed when one of you's been sleeping on the floor.

that, and it means i'll be lifting the wards on the room. i never mentioned them, but they were there. so if you do feel like throwing down in there, it'll no longer set off alarms.

and now you know

Might have been nice to mention that before, but yeah. Thanks, anyway.

Caboose is here.

Thought I'd give you a heads-up.

[ Not even sure why he's letting her know. He just figures he should if she hasn't noticed the giant Blue around already.

--Oh right, there is a reason. ]

Sounds like he's from some time in the future.

Edited (i don't understand dates apparently) 2016-06-05 04:05 (UTC)

[ She's spent the last while recuperating from her injuries, and after that she's mostly been using the workout facilities to gain her strength again.

Of course, that instinct to punch things has nothing to do with Church's disappearance. And the fact that she hasn't noticed Caboose yet doesn't have anything to do with that either. ]

Thanks for letting me know.

[ Both for the fact that he's here, and about the timeline nonsense. ]

Sure.

[ Part of him considers telling her that he knows now. What she and Church have been telling him about since they showed up. That he's lived through it now. But he thinks far better of it and focuses on something else quickly before he'll leave her to her business. ]

Heard you dealt with some shit after that Ingress on Amisses-Re got messed up.

You okay?

I'm just recovering from my death, that's all. Nothing major.

[ At least it doesn't seem to be anything major here. Even if she did die multiple times. ]

Guess everyone's bound to have their first one here sometime.

[ Casually gonna skirt around the fact that it's also not her first time dying ever. ]

Right. Well. That was all I was checking in for.

Sure. Thanks.

[ That's really all that needs to be said. She and Washington are not on a friendship basis—they communicate when they have to and then they get out of each other's way. She has no idea now that he's been back to experience the things she and Church had told him about. ]

Church's name is missing from the manifest.

Wondering if you know anything about it.

[ Short and to the point. There's no sense in beating around the bush about this, and if anyone knows if Church left of his own will or not, it's going to be Tex. ]

Don't do whatever it is you're planning on doing, Washington. I'm not in the mood to be fucked with.

Jesus Christ. I'm not planning anything, I'm asking you a question.

I don't know what you expect me to say. He's gone. It happened overnight.

So the Ingress took him again? He didn't try leaving on his own, or something?

As far as I can tell. If he tried to leave on his own I think he knows I would kick his ass.

[ And she and Wash both know he wouldn't really leave without her. It just wouldn't happen. ]

Yeah. I thought as much.

The Ingress seems to enjoy flinging him here and back. I don't think anyone else has been brought here and sent home twice.

I used to think there was something behind it, but now I don't. It's just broken, like they've said all along.

Feels too coincidental to be random. There's a lot we're not being told and I don't trust the idea that it's just broken.

[ On the plus side, this is probably the least argumentative conversation they've had in months...? ]

I'm too tired to care right now, to be honest

Too tired to care that we're all being toyed with and lied to?

Don't tell me it's because you lost Church again.

It's not going to last forever, Washington.

And I warned you not to antagonize me. You've been amazingly civilized during this conversation, try not to ruin it.

You don't know that. And how long it lasts doesn't matter, what does is that it's happening at all.

"Amazingly civilized". Wow, such a high compliment from the woman who uses violence to solve her problems.

All I mean by being tired is I'm allowing myself a day not to deal with it. So yes, I do know.

You want to start with the sarcasm now?

Right, because not dealing with something even for a day is useful.

Considering I just did? I must.

You're a piss-poor excuse for a conscience, but thanks for that

But I don't want to argue with you right now, Washington. Sorry if that messes up your agenda or anything

Never claimed to be any use as a conscience.

It doesn't mess up anything. I never had an agenda to begin with beyond finding out what happened to Church.

Why does it matter to you, anyway?

You're not the only one he meant something to, you know.

So sorry for your loss

Oh, get over yourself.

I'll put it on my to do list

Hello.

Hello yourself

How are you?

[He's being polite for the sake of politeness: there are a lot of conventions he doesn't particularly care about, but checking in on a sex partner the next day seems like both the right thing to do and the smart thing to do... isn't it?

She should enjoy this while it lasts.]

I'm busy as hell

Trying to map the jungle

It's a huge job

You aren't seriously trying to do that alone, are you? Who else is involved?

Anyone who will carry me in their MID

[He considers switching to voice for her convenience, then realizes that if she's just a consciousness riding around in MIDs, the difference between text and voice is probably negligible.]

I'd offer you a few people from Tower, because there isn't one right now, but I'm really not sure how interested they are in being directed at the moment. Where's the body?

[Are you tired of it? It was rather nice. Someone is developing a faint smile as he thinks about it.]

Everyone's doing whatever they want

It's chaos

And my body is stashed in the building where we had sex

[Is that even good for it? It felt awfully organic -- nothing like he imagined a synthetic humanoid doll would. Does it need to be placed on ice? Will it decay?

The thought is a little unpleasant.]

At least you've kept it in a safe place. Well, I won't delay you. I only wanted to tell you that I had fun last night and to check that I didn't break you. (The body is only stowed away for convenience, isn't it?)

Edited 2016-09-10 08:56 (UTC)

I'm joking, by the way... except that I did have a good time.

Well now I'm disappointed

I didn't even notice you were trying

If you remember, I was trying to break the wall. But accidents happen.

[At the very least, he'd imagine that she might be bruised... it doesn't seem like it would bother her much, though. Even less so when she can easily leave the body. Would any discomfort go with her?]

Edited (Brackets!) 2016-09-10 22:57 (UTC)

Well, I wouldn't have minded

If you did want to try, I would be game

[That gets several reactions back where he's sitting: a long look, almost disbelieving, then another hint of a smile.]

I'd try it in a bed next time. Where and when?

[Ordinarily, he'd name a time and place, but that doesn't seem practical in light of the fact that she's currently disembodied.]

What if I met you on the beach later

1800 ship's time

I'd prefer somewhere more private. Any other ideas?

Come to the room where I'm staying then

[ Along with this she sends a ping to the location. ]

I'll be there. Anything I should bring?

Depends, do I need a safe word for whatever you have in mind?

[He didn't have anything specific in mind, but now that she's going this way, he has an idea of what she's interested in.]

I can't guarantee you'll need it, but it wouldn't hurt.

Bring some rope then

[ She has no idea if he knows where to find some or whether there's any available without boarding the Moira again, but that's up to him to figure out.

At the appointed time she has made her way back to her temporary body. Like the night before, she's wearing a party dress, but it's a different style—more coverage at the neck and chest, and longer, but sheer, and sewn in several tiers. She goes immediately to the door and opens it, standing there expectantly. ]

[That's a tall order, given that it could require him to head back to the beach, find his way to the ship, root around in a hazardous area, then get back through the fog, all in a few hours. He decides to search closer to where he is, and with some luck and persistence, he's able to find a long satin sash, maybe discarded from someone's gown from the previous night.

When she opens the door, he's already there, wearing another outfit similar to the previous night's, grey, no embroidery. He holds one end of the sash high, pinched between his thumb and forefinger, and lets the rest of its length tumble from his hand, where it ends just above the floor.

He notices that his concerns about the potential state of her body seem entirely misplaced.]

[ His timing had been impeccable and she can't help smirking when she sees what he's brought for her. It doesn't occur to her to question any of this, not now, not after the way last night ended. There had been plenty of things said between herself and other patrons of the party about suspicions—why are the aliens being so helpful? Why are they providing so much? But being able to benefit from their generosity to this extent—being able to enjoy carnal pleasures like this, even without the cloned body the Ingress had provided for her upon her arrival, and finding a partner this compatible to boot...it leaves her unwilling to question further.

She steps back to let him into the room, and once the door is shut she presses up against him to kiss his neck, similar to how they had started their first encounter on the dance floor. She then nips at his ear lobe and mutters: ]

My safe word is elephant.

[ She pulls back enough to smile at him slyly. After his remark the night before about how she could have been placed in an elephant body instead of a human one, she finds using this word pretty humorous. ]

[They're getting right to the point, aren't they? He turns his head to the side to give her a little more access to his neck and ear, making a brief, pleased humming sound when she nips at the lobe.

But when she tells him the word she's settled on, he down at her curiously for the half a moment it takes him to remember.]

I have to say, I'm glad they didn't choose an elephant body. It would have made all of this extremely awkward for me... imagine the explanations.

[He rests his hands on her hips, one still clutching the long sash.]

You'd definitely have the most interesting fetish on the ship.

[ Or among the former ship's population. Whatever.

She stays where she is for now, waiting to see what he plans to do, lightly setting her hands on his hips in return. ]

I'd have to, wouldn't I?

[The fact that she's not doing much seems like an invitation, so he pulls her in a little closer and kisses her -- once, twice, a third time, each from a slightly different angle, with increasing passion.]

I really didn't get to see much of you last night.

[She'd been naked, eventually, but she'd spent most of the time in shadow between him and the wall, or wrapped against him on the bed. He hadn't really touched much, either.]

[ She wraps her arms around his shoulders now, meeting the press of his mouth with equal fervor. When he makes his comment she tilts her head a little. ]

What do you expect me to do about that?

[ Her tone isn't sarcastic; it's expectant. She means this—if he's going to be ordering her around and taking control this is the time to start. ]

[The look he gives her now is appraising, and after a long moment, he says,]

I expect you to take the dress off.

[ She presses against him, letting her chest swell against him a bit, hooking an ankle around his lower leg. ]

Make me.

[ Again, a challenge, not a rebuff. She emphasizes this with a nip to his lower lip. ]

[He tilts his head, watches her, then pulls away to the extent that he can. It takes a moment to attempt to disentangle himself.]

Not a very good listener.

[His voice is full of mock-dismay.]

[ Her leg unwinds from his when he pulls back, but she steps into his space again. This isn't meant to turn into a wrestling match or anything, but she catches the wrist of the hand that's holding the sash and presses her thumb into the center of his palm. ]

I am when there's something worth listening to.

[ She's still testing him, watching to see whether he's going to take control or acquiesce again. The interplay here is exciting, though, whether he intends to direct her or not. She gets off on the power play either way. ]

[That makes his look turn a shade darker, more challenging. He slides his hand down and attempts to grip her wrist, not too hard, while also attempting to pivot so that she's between him and the wall.

This is how she wants to play it? He's always expressed his orders with "please" or "I want," for most of his life, but it seems that it may not have been direct enough for her.]

Take the dress off and leave it on the floor. Don't touch me again until you have.

[ That look and the tone help. She's still smirking as she slips her hand out of his grip. ]

When you put it that way—

[ The dress is actually a two-piece, with a layered skirt, so she begins by running her own hands down the bodice and reaching for the hem. The top comes off—once again, she hasn't bothered with a bra—and she reaches for his shoulder after she's dropped it on the floor. Half-compliance; what is he going to do about this? ]

[He's catching on to the idea that she intends to be marginally disobedient, for at least a while. What's the point of that? They already both know what their mutual goal is, and there isn't much reason to lie about it. That means that she's probably getting something from both the disobedience and his response to it.

It's only his second time -- and the first time he's been in charge of this particular game with these particular stakes. If she keeps this up, it could become difficult for him, but he doesn't want to tell her that.

He steps out of her reach, then points lazily at the clothing she's still wearing, his index finger moving up and down in the air to indicate the length of her lower body.]

No. The skirt, too.

Edited 2016-09-11 05:04 (UTC)

[ Not good enough. She approaches again, presses her hips against him. ]

You.

[ She grabs his free hand and brings it to the waistband. ]

You want to. Come on.

[He steps away again, making a point of looking irritated -- and there is mild irritation, but he pushes that aside, getting a better idea of what she's doing.]

I do, but I'm not going to. I don't think you'll respect me in the morning.

[That's more than half a joke, albeit a deadpan one. He reaches out to grab her wrist, intending to bring it to the waistband he's just pulled away from.]

[ True enough, that statement. She's not liable to continue respecting his authority in these situations if he were to give into her doing this. Which probably means she'd lose interest in even trying this again. He's smart enough to catch onto that. She responds to it with a small scoff of laughter.

When he grabs her wrist, she resists his moving her hand, but only marginally. Her hand is eventually bent to the waistband and she hooks her fingers into it, now obeying readily and pushing the skirt down. She takes her reward right away, reaching out for him. ]

Good.

[Now that she's done what he told her to do, he pulls her in close, her nakedness against his soft clothing. He kisses her at first, several times, each one a little longer than most that they've tried so far. One of his hands wanders down to cup her smooth bare bottom.]

[ The kissing is nice, though with the aggressive mood she's in it's not going to happen without her nipping at his lips occasionally. When he sets his hand on her ass she lets out a pleased exhale, bending her knee to afford him better access, perching her leg on his hip. ]

If you're not careful, this is going to be a re-run of yesterday.

[ Because the fact of the matter is the arousal that comes from being ordered around is indeed partly grounded in the fact that it forces her to slow down—if he lets her take control of the situation it's liable to be just as rushed as yesterday was. That's just the way she is. ]

[His tiny smile is intentionally mysterious, and he slowly shakes his head.]

No, it isn't. Well... maybe in one way.

[He's beginning to get hard, and knows that she can probably feel it. He runs his fingertips down her thigh to near her knee, where he pats it and then kisses her again.]

Take my shirt off.

[ She likes the look of that smile. She nips him again, now at his jaw line, and starts sucking at the skin while she works his buttons. After this, well, she's just going to grab his hand, covering it with her own, and attempt to bring it under her leg to her lower lips. ]

[This is bordering on amusing, now. He wants very much to touch between her thighs, but it's a temptation to which he can't yet give in. He turns his hand around, changing its angle, and attempts to grasp her hand and pull it back up.]

When you've taken my shirt all the way off, I'll touch you. Not before.

[ That's about when he hits the threshold he needs to hit to show he is going to take charge of this situation. She lets out a little hum of arousal, not fighting this time when he takes hold of her hand. She sets it where he guides it, then spreads her fingers wide and smooths both hands over his bare chest. She tugs at the lapels of his shirt, pulling it backward to clear his shoulders. She's short, not something she's used to experiencing, but in this position she's just the right height to continue gnawing under his jaw bone at the flesh of his throat.

Her hands are free to do what they will now. She grabs at the sash, then hangs on, putting traction on the piece of cloth but not trying to yank it away. And she does a full-body grind, like she did on the dance floor yesterday, curling the leg that rests on his hip around his waist. ]

Ryuuzaki. Don't let me fuck with you.

[ They're words of encouragement, more than anything—he's on the right track, but he keeps waiting for her to act and then reacting to it. More than anything right now she wants to be grabbed and handled roughly and to have her hands tied up, but he seems to be seeking something more gentle than what she has in mind. Or something more reciprocal than she's seeking. Whatever it is, she follows that up with bringing her other hand to her own mound, blocking him from doing the same. ]

[He hasn't wanted to tie her hands. He's wanted her to have them free to use, for the time being, but she seems to be purposely trying to get him to restrain her earlier than he'd intended to. That in itself probably counts as "fucking with him." Likewise, the way she's shielding herself... he's getting the idea that if she didn't want him to stop her, she'd say the word. And all of this is both frustrating and enticing.

He reaches down and firmly grasps her other wrist.]

Don't assume that's what I'm doing. It's hard to decide whether to tie your hands or gag you.

[But she's making the most trouble with her hands right now, isn't she? He does what he can to get them behind her back, with swift, definite movements.]

[ Her hands go willingly behind her back when he does that, her foot returning to the floor to stabilize herself. Whether snapping at her is out of feigned irritation or genuine doesn't matter in its effect on her—she makes a pleased sound and works her mouth into the hollow under the corner of his jaw, writhing against him a little. She sucks on the skin there, nibbling lightly with her teeth. ]

If you gagged me, I couldn't do this.

[It's tempting to respond to her kiss, but he doesn't; a moment later, he pulls his head away, then looks down at her.]

And if I tied your hands, there are other things you wouldn't be able to do. Isn't it a matter of which I'm more interested in using?

[Well, he's perfectly capable of undressing both of them, and they're almost all the way there anyway. He holds her wrists with one hand and turns her around roughly with the other, then works to tie them.]

[ She tries standing on tiptoe to nip at him again, but for once he has actually straightened up enough to pull her desired target out of reach. When he spins her around she leans into him, making the act of tying more difficult. ]

Guess you'll have to make sure I know my place then.

[ She backs against him when her wrists are bound and feels blindly around for his cock, rubbing her back against his chest. ]

I've never seen anyone so completely determined to be naughty.

[That's said dryly, and it's nowhere near true, although it is true within this particular context. She's testing his imagination: he does like to be obeyed, and is used to it, but not in quite this way.

Meanwhile, she's rubbing his chest and his cock, and he hasn't told her to.]

Your place is wherever I want it to be. [He steers her towards the end of the bed.] I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it's out of bounds. Bend over.

[ He's definitely found the role she wants him to be playing. It's okay that it took a bit to goad him into it; it doesn't diminish the fact that him ordering her around like this turns her on. She lets him shove her bodily over to the bed before she leans over it. Without her elbows to lean on she's forced to hold herself up here, and she stands there, full of anticipation, and glances at him over her shoulder. ]

[He nudges her knees apart with one of his.]

Don't touch the bed.

[No threats, for now: if he makes them, she'll probably test them, and he'll have to follow through on them.

He holds her tied wrists with one hand, then licks his first two fingers and presses them between her thighs, from behind.]

Ah—!

[ She presses her ass back against his hand, tilting her pelvis up, knees coming apart. She had fallen in love with his fingers during their last encounter—they're long and graceful and skilled. And now, he knows how she prefers him to use them. ]

[He thinks he may have come up with a suitable game. He rests the tips of his fingers just at her opening, then leans over and murmurs into her ear,]

Shhh. You've been talking too much. It's made a lot of trouble for you.

Count to one hundred in your head, and don't make a sound while you're doing it.

[Then he pushes them in -- first slowly, then again, faster, with a little swirl when they're almost fully withdrawn. One thousand one, one thousand two.]

[ It's true, along with the way he's finally figured out she wants to be commanded, that he has a sexy voice. He has a nice accent, and his lips brushing her ear and his low tone send a shiver down her back. She eyes him and tries to turn her head to nip at his skin, already beginning her counting. She might be tempted to push his boundaries, but the contact of his hand is worth obeying for. ]

[He doesn't really stop to think about how this is the first time he's done exactly this, or how enticing he finds all of it -- they're both aware of the latter, and he'd rather keep her ignorant of the former. He doesn't kiss her when she tries to nip at him -- not yet.

After about twenty thrusts and swirls that start slow and increase in speed, he pulls his fingers out and pauses, just for a moment, to gauge her reaction. A noise of complaint would be a violation of his command.]

[ She tilts her hips along with the motion of his hand, eyes closing, planning what she will say in precisely 79 seconds when she's done counting. It's going to matter.

When he removes his hand the absence of his touch is intolerable and she tilts her hips back again. It's the first time since they started she's felt actual stakes to following his orders, and she does decide to test it—she doesn't whimper or cry out or make any other vocal sound, but she lets out a harsh voiceless exhale through her nose, and brings her own hands lower down her back. The implication should be obvious: return to fingering her, or she'll find a way to do it herself. ]

[Voiceless is what's important, and he decides that her compliance is good enough. Still, he decides to warn her:]

Careful.

[Then he bends forward a little, reaching around her front, and slips the same two fingers into the same place from the front. When he resumes fingering her, he also occasionally grinds the heel of his palm over her clit.]

[ It's an awkward position, but it feels good, and that's what matters. She has to smirk at being able to get away with pushing his boundaries, and she continues to make occasional voiceless sounds to show her appreciation of the sensations, just little scoffs low in her throat along with panting as she comes close to climax. The countdown itself seems to turn into a countdown to when she's going to allow herself to come, because she wants to express the pleasure of it vocally when she does. So, with a minute of counting time left, she doesn't ride against his hand like yesterday, but lets his motions determine the pressure and the speed. ]

[He does what she'd shown him that she likes, adding the penetration and the little twists of his palm to it; the way she's responding shows that it's working. Seventy-seven, seventy eight....

It's also working for him: something about it is past being arousing simply because it's a sexual situation that he's involved in, and moving deeply into more specific desires of his own.

His pants are becoming uncomfortable now, so with his free hand, he unties the fastening and tugs the waistband down to his hips. His cock springs out and brushes against her bottom, and when it does, he inhales as softly and sharply as he has every time she's bitten him.]

[ She's very close to making a noise when she feels that happen, but she manages to hold it back by biting her lip. She's closer to the end of the countdown now, and quite worked up, so she begins pumping her hips against his hand, but also pressing back to feel out his dick with her ass. As it turns out, she miscalculates just how much she can take of this before it sets her off, and with only 5 or 6 seconds to go the muscles in her groin begin to contract. She lets out a long, harsh exhale, trying not to give in to the sensation, not quite yet, but this sort of flattens out the crest of the sensation and causes the orgasm to weaken. But now time is up. ]

Fuck—

[ It's high-pitched and breathless, and she presses her hips down against his hand. ]

[He's surprised, and a little impressed: it can't have been easy to make it to 100 without any noise, given what was clearly happening to her around 95. That should probably be rewarded, so he lets her continue to press against his hand, and he keeps moving his fingers.]

You did very well. Be louder for me.

[It continues to work for him even more than he'd thought it might. There's a little extra pleasure in being able to do this to her, just with some authority and some small movements of his hand. She's combative; it makes him feel like he's winning.

He rests his cock against her bound hands, curious to see if she'll do anything with it.]

[ The praise, combined with his tone and his accent, cause an actual flush to her cheeks, and she groans a little. She's not one who tries to remain silent during sex; she's definitely willing to express herself, but the rush of desire and authority of his tone when he gives the command mean she begins to express more than she normally would.

And then she feels the skin of his member being placed against her hands. The angle is weird, considering that her hand is bound to the other, but she feels out the slit at the end of his cock with her thumb and smears the small amount of precum that's gathered there across the slit. And she moans, and she slides her thumb against this wet spot to the same rhythm her hips are pumping. She loves penises, and though his is fairly average, it's no less desirable to touch it.

Her legs aren't as toned in this body as what she's used to having, and they're beginning to quake just a bit. She sometimes trembles when she's feeling filled with desire anyway, and this just adds to the many sensations that are building in her system. She could come again, quite soon, but now she wants it to be when he's inside her. She tugs at his cock and gives it a squeeze, as well as she can, giving another buck of her hips—not down against his hand, but back, placing her weight on her toes so she can angle her hips up. ]

God --!

[The way she's moving her hands on him and shifting her stance is a clear indication of what she wants next, and it would be very easy to shift position slightly and make it happen, but he can feel her legs beginning to tremble against his. He suspects that the nanites in his system are the only reason his own legs aren't still screaming at him from their exertions the previous night.

He doesn't want is for his second time -- with her, or anyone -- to be standing or clothed, if he has a choice. It's fast and fun, and fine from time to time, but not particularly comfortable. He pulls away from her.]

Wait.

[He lets his trousers fall and steps out of them, then goes to the bed, yanks back the covers, and sits up with his back against the headboard. He's already calculated that if he doesn't want to be on top of her at first, this position will be the easiest one.]

Come here onto my lap, but face me. Everything happened so quickly last night that I couldn't see much.

[ He pulls away and she whimpers, but soon it's evident what he's doing, and she straightens to walk around the bed to the place where he has gotten seated. She clambers up onto the bed, walking on her knees over to him, and straddles his lap, sliding down into it. Without use of her hands she is dependent on him to line himself up for penetration, but this doesn't keep her from writhing into position as best she can. She's breathing heavily, shuddering now with need, and whimpers and bites his ear lobe. ]

What do you want to see?

[That gets one of his single dry chuckles.]

Everything.

[He's as needy as she is, as greedy, breathing heavily now. He adjusts his own position with one hand as he turns his face to try to catch her mouth for a hungry kiss.

A moment later, it feels like he's in the right place. He shifts his hips to press up into her, and when he does, he reaches around to touch the back of her neck, intending to look into her eyes as it happens.]

[ She presses into the kiss, excited, expectant, and impatient. There are none of her trademark bites this time though; she opens her mouth and takes in his taste, groaning.

And then he pulls back and starts shifting his hips against hers. Her mouth goes slack, and she's at a loss for words as he begins making his way into her. When she's directing things she likes it fast and dirty, but this is exactly why she gave him control. He holds eye contact and she shudders against his hand on her neck, remembering his command to make noise for him. There's nothing she knows better coming from a lover than hearing a desperate, wanting moan of one's name, and she doesn't know he's only ever given her a pseudonym. ]

Ryuuzaki, augh...

[ The moan at the end draws out until he's fully inserted into her, and she settles against him, keeping her chest up so he can get a good view. She tilts her head, her eyes fluttering shut, and she bends in so she can lick his ear. Right now all she wants is to hear his voice. ]

Talk dirty to me?

Dirty?

[He's lost eye contact with her for a moment, and he sets his hands on her hips just below her waist. Her mouth at his ear causes him to pant, just once.]

Do you know, I've never done that before.

[He doesn't swear much... maybe because he's never been around people who he would have picked it up from, maybe because the words always feel a little weird in his mouth. She's so hot and tight around him, and there's a different, equally pleasurable feeling when he's deep inside and almost all the way out, about to press in again.]

I like the way you you feel on my cock.

[That's experimental. A thought flits through his head that it may sound ridiculous... most of this kind of talk probably does to anyone overhearing it (it certainly has in surveillance)... but he's not a particularly self-conscious man, and it's not hard to begin to come up with ideas, especially if he tries to stretch outside of his day to day vocabulary.]

[ His momentary distraction is no obstacle; she simply makes eye contact with him again, and when he makes his statement she pumps her hips against him and moans. Just him saying that word fuels the desire she has to hear more. ]

What does it feel like?

[He positions his head so that he can try to hold her gaze as she pumps up and down, then brings one of his hands to her breast. He grasps her firm pink nipple between his fingertips, where he massages and pinches it.]

You know how it feels: it's hot and wet and you'll be the only interesting thing in the world until I come. You have my complete attention. How much did you want me inside you?

[And it's true: he's not even thinking about what he's not thinking about. He hasn't thought about Darcy once since he's set foot in the room, nor has he paused to wish that he'd somehow been with her, or with anyone else.]

Edited 2016-09-12 06:57 (UTC)

[ She whimpers out a string of sounds, tilting her head a little and pressing her chest harder against his hand, not breaking eye contact. Obviously, yes, she had known that answer, but to hear him say it...it adds to the sensations and the intensity of everything and she can't help but answer the way she does when he asks his question. ]

About as much as I want you to put my tit in your mouth now.

[ Hopefully he's picked up better on the fact that she doesn't want a gentle little nibble when he does so, not like yesterday. ]

[Well, that's not an order, and it's not far from what he wants, either. It takes some angling of his head, and the loss of the eye contact again, and a brief slowing of the motion of their bodies, but it's not too long before her nipple is in his mouth.

He doesn't try to lave her with his tongue again. Instead, he sucks hard, then sets his teeth against her and bites down. She'll let him know if it's too uncomfortable, and hopefully he won't slip.

Maybe it doesn't matter to her what happens to this body in the long run. That's an intriguing, unusual thought -- he's used to the innate conviction that you're in the only one you get -- but he sets it aside.]

[ She cooperates with the slowing of their thrusts so he can center his mouth on her, and hums wantingly when he begins sucking. When he bites down she gives into the impulse to cry out, her head tipping back. ]

Yes— Oh...

[ She had sat down in his lap with her knees folded, but now she extends her feet and plants them on the bed, alongside his hips, and starts pumping her hips harder, faster, leaning her upper weight into him just enough to get the leverage she needs without being able to stabilize herself with her hands. She needs manual stimulation to get off, she knows this, but the sensations of the thrusting and the biting are plenty to bring her pleasure. ]

[There's so much happening that it's hard for him to process all of it, except as "extremely gratifying." How had he waited so long to do this? Because it involves letting someone get extremely close to him, a degree of give-and-take of vulnerability, and back in his usual life, he had always been so careful not to indulge desires in a way that would leave him with an unguarded flank.

The knowledge that the feelings in his body and brain are all chemical doesn't stop them from being effective: invigorating and electric beyond the way they're leading to a release of the building tension. Beyond what he's already told her, he likes her skin under his fingertips and in his mouth, the smell and the taste of her.

When she changes her position, he grasps the nipple that's not in his mouth and pinches it tightly. He makes noises deep in his throat every time she moves, now.]

Edited 2016-09-12 21:18 (UTC)

[ The lack of use of her hands is frustrating, but in a gratifying way—if she could only touch herself she'd surely be climaxing again now, but instead she's forced to concentrate on his pleasure, and she continues to comply with his command to make noise for him, with more 'oh's and 'yes'es and moans. She spreads her knees more widely to change the angle of her hips, and their flesh begins to make wet smacking sounds as she continues pounding against him.

It's the sounds he's making in his throat that really drive her wild; she can't kiss him properly because of how she's moving but she lands a few random swipes of her lips against his forehead. She's been spreading her hands against her bonds, not really on purpose but because of the range of the motions she's making, and the satin suddenly slides against itself and releases her hands. She makes a sound of surprise and grabs him about his shoulder with one arm, once again speeding in her thrusts now that she has leverage. Her other hand goes behind her back to reach down as far as she can and touch his balls, smacking wildly with her fingertips whenever she can reach them between thrusts. ]

[He hadn't wanted to untie her just yet, but the position had been so awkward when he'd bound her hands to begin with that he's not really surprised that the bonds don't hold up to serious strain.

When she reaches down to touch his balls, he gasps, interrupting the rhythm of his heavy breathing, and his eyes slam shut for the moment it takes for him to force them open again. He loses his mouth's grip on her breast and tilts his head up to kiss her throat, then her lips, still ravenous.

He pushes his fingertips between them to reciprocate. Everything is coming at him in a rush... it really can't be long now.]

Still such a naughty girl. Are you going to come for me?

[This one is spontaneous, not calculated, and he doesn't even pause to think about what he's said.]

Yes—

[ The word comes out high and raspy, both a response to his question and an encouragement of his act. She digs in the nails of the hand at his shoulder, tipping her hips up just slightly to meet his fingertips with her clit. It barely takes any effort on his part to get her to come, not with all the stimulation she's had. His tongue in her mouth and his fingers on her clit are all it takes for her to reach climax within a few moments. She scratches his shoulder and her hips still as she rides out the waves of sensation, a high-pitched moan on her lips. It's almost a scream. She doesn't consider herself a screamer but with the way he rose to her challenges today and the way he took control over the situation—

She doesn't even think about how strange it is for her to hand the reins over to him the way she did. She barely knows him. This kind of power play should be reserved for someone she trusts implicitly. She didn't even get a chance to try it with Church before his disappearance. But this was her desire, the fantasy she wanted to play out, and as she had tested him he had made it clear he was up to this. And she reveled in it, and now she's reaping the benefits.

After the scream she slams their mouths together, beginning to move her hips again, fingering at his balls. It's his turn now. ]

[It's rare that he's not thinking about anything at all: there have even been times when the solution to a case, the moment where everything clicks together, has come to him in a dream. But as Texas shouts and scratches his shoulder and shudders around him, conscious thought and calculation are gone, replaced with pure sensation.

Her orgasm brings him that much closer to his own. When she starts to kiss him again, his arms go around her back. He presses up into her three times in quick succession, each time a little more firmly. The third time, he holds his postion, shudders all over, and moans into her mouth, more flooded with ecstasy than he would ever have assumed possible.

It's different than the previous night, and far better. He clings to her as he rides it out. When it ends, he stares at her for a long moment, then collapses back against the wall, looking stunned.]

[ She can feel him coming inside of her, and his grip on her is ironclad, making the effect of the whole thing on him unquestionable. She lets out a deep groan that seems to come from her core as he holds on to her, and when he collapses back, she leans in, running her hands over his chest and his neck and arms to soothe him. She sees now that with the way she's been biting and sucking at his skin there are a number of marks on his pale skin. Her breathing is heavy, but beginning to slow. ]

You're so hot.

[ Not a view she had of him when they first met, with his dark circles and stooped posture, but his ability to drive her wild with desire has turned her view of him on its head. She leans in to rest her head on his shoulder, kissing lightly at his neck and running her fingers over his throat. ]

I gave you a bunch of hickeys.

[ It's not an apology, but the sentiment is there in her touch. ]

Are you sure it's me?

[Meaning: you might be the one who's hot. Or maybe they are together... at least some of this has to be chalked up to individual chemistry.

His breathing is still going back to normal, and he feels incapable of much thought or movement. He's heavy and relaxed and completely sated, pinned under her, not very interested in moving. How had he never understood before how he would take to this?

When she rests her head on his shoulder, he curls his arm and runs his fingers through her silky brown hair, resting his hand against the back of her head.]

I don't mind the hickeys. Even if I did... they'll probably be gone tomorrow.

[ She lets out a pleased sound at the implied compliment, a slight chuckle. She doesn't mind cuddling with him right here, in this position, and she knows he won't protest it either. She refolds her knees, settling her ass into the space between his legs, and lays on his chest. ]

No point in minding them. I'll probably just end up giving you more later.

[ She closes her eyes at the sensation of him running his fingers through her hair. The sex with Wash had been nice, but sex with Ryuuzaki fits her proclivities so well, she decides right here that if she ends up needing to choose it's going to be Ryuuzaki. Not that shes going to volunteer the fact that she arranged to enter into a long-term sexual relationship with Wash. Ryuuzaki has no reason to be jealous. ]

Do you usually like to make out after sex?

It depends on the variables. With you... I just can't get enough of you.

[Not today, anyway. He arranges his arms around her, then angles his head down to kiss her.

If he projects theoretical liaisons, he can assume that there are times when he might want to leave someone after a few minutes of winding down, or times when he might want to stay all night... but those are all new thoughts, new ideas. Is his partner attractive, but irritating? Did it go badly? Conversely, if it went well, how well did it go, how much does his partner suit him, how emotionally invested in her is he?]

I'm getting the impression that you do.

You are?

[ She hasn't had that many sexual experiences, and until the last two days they'd all been with Church, but she wouldn't have thought of herself as someone who needed a lot of cuddling after an encounter. Cuddling with Church meant something else, and she wouldn't have expected that to extend to sexual experiences with others. Yet she doesn't want to remove herself from Ryuuzaki's presence yet, nor from his touch. And her experience with Wash yesterday had been much the same. ]

Maybe you're right. At least after something that good.

[ She nudges his chin with her fingers, turning his head at the correct angle where he can kiss her where her head rests on his chest. ]

I am. Is there another reason why you'd ask me to begin with?

[He lets her turn his head, then kisses her deeply. There had been some of this, earlier, but most of what had happened between them hadn't really allowed it. These kisses are deeper and more apparently intimate.

For the rest, that's how his mind works. He had kissed her, but the night before, he had been too dazed -- and too tired from holding her up against the wall -- to do much more than that, and then there had been a party to get to. If she's asking, then the thing she's asking about is likely to be the thing she's missing. And since he has nowhere to be and no particular urge to leave her, it's easy to give her what she wants... except when it's more fun not to, which is not the case at the moment.]

I'm not sure whether or not this will continue, but I think it might be better if we were on a first-name basis.

[That's true.]

Call me Daniel.

[ -- That's not.]

[ She mutters her response through the kiss. ]

I just wanted to give you what you wanted.

[ Which in itself is an odd thing for her to feel, but now that it's been pointed out, it seems that had lined up with her own desires. In that case it turned out to be perfect. She kisses him, and she sighs contentedly through her nose.

And then he pulls back and shares his real name with her and she looks at him with a strange expression. It has nothing to do with learning he's been using a pseudonym with her, though—it has to do with the intimacy of sharing her own first name. Everyone who knows it also knows the history behind that name, and it meant different things when they used it—the sly way York had said it, or the smug way Wyoming had. But with him, none of that would be there. It would just be a name to him, and telling him would be a way to deepen their intimacy, and he's already shown good faith in sharing his. So she can't deny him this. Not after he shared his so willingly.

She swallows, and her expression shifts. She goes from looking nonplussed to something more open and relaxed. ]

Mine's Allison. No one ever calls me that, though. [ She runs her fingers lightly over his lips, looking thoughtful. She can't decide whether she wants to hear that from him during sex or if she'd prefer to remain Tex. ]

[He sees what seems like hesitation flicker over her face, before she relaxes and gives him a name. There have probably been too many people from her world around for this to be a lie, but it doesn't really matter that much if it is -- it isn't a danger to him. He goes through life not telling the whole truth to people and assuming that they may also not be telling the whole truth. The important thing is determining when that's significant. She could be Sadie or Jane or Rosa or Michiko and it wouldn't ultimately affect their chemistry.

It's interesting that she wants to please him. It seems sentimental, for what he knows of her and for the way they've come together, but he likes it.

He tries to take her fingertips into his mouth.]

I'll call you whatever you want me to call you, Allison.

[ She slips her fingers in his mouth after he speaks, rubbing lightly at his tongue with the end of her middle finger. She likes the sound of that in his accent. It makes it mean something different. ]

Tex or Allison. Either's fine.

[ She tilts her head, back to resting it on his shoulder. Her breathing is now normal, slow and even, and she closes her eyes, relaxing. She moves her hand from his mouth to his cheek, and then to his scalp, feeling around for the texture of his skin and hair. She thinks for a moment about how she'd gotten on Church's case for letting his hair grow, how she'd harassed him into getting his hair cut, when it hadn't even been as long as Daniel's is now.

But that's just how things were between her and Church—always combative, always with some issue going on between them. The first time she'd had sex with Church in his human body here in this universe she'd immediately kicked him out of the room, barely even spending any time cuddling with him like this. She'd had her reasons for doing that. But maybe, maybe she shouldn't have. She caresses the side of Daniel's head. Why is she even thinking about Church? Church is gone. He's gone a second time from this universe, and she's left here, and she's making the most of it, enjoying her body's pleasures with no guilt, no guilt at all. She doesn't need to remain loyal to Church when they'd never even solidified what their relationship was.

This line of thought is frustrating her. She thumbs at Daniel's cheek, then sits up and looks into his face. Church isn't here. Church isn't here. ]

Were you planning to go back and work after this?

[ It's going to be immediately apparent what she hopes his answer is; while she waits for him to answer her hand is traveling downward between them and she starts playing with the hair below his navel. ]

[He'll call her Allison in private until she tells him not to. Her hand in his hair, rubbing his scalp and his cheek... that feels very intimate. As her hand moves, there are times he leans into her fingers.

When she asks whether not he's going back to work, he looks at her, eyebrows slightly raised. It widens his eyes and gives him a speculative expression.]

Oh, as it happens, I'm busy with you... I really hadn't made any other plans.

You wanted me to go...?

[That last bit is teasing. It's clear she doesn't want him to leave by the way she's touching his groin.]

I think it's going to be a while before I'm good for anything else, though. Is it possible for us to have dinner in here?

[The natives may be friendly and hospitable, but they haven't necessarily offered room service. What a shame.

More seriously, he doesn't want to leave. There's a temptation to spin this encounter out for hours.]

Oh, gee. I didn't mean to wear you out.

[ That's a complete lie. She very much meant to wear him out, and her tone is teasing and light, expressed with a smirk. ]

We can go find dinner and bring it back.

[ Strangely, the idea of sitting and having dinner with him is much more intimate than having sex was. A meal means they will be staying in each other's company; they'll probably converse. They'll talk about themselves. It'll be like a date.

Weird.

She withdraws a bit, hooking her feet on the inside of his thighs and scooting back. ]

I have a towel we can use to clean up.

[ But she doesn't pull away any further, wondering whether he's quite ready to disengage. She's not going to lean in to kiss him but if he pulls her back, she won't protest. ]

[He pulls her back. She's right there: why not kiss her? They'll need to eat something eventually, but it will be there later.]

I don't believe that you don't want to wear me out.

We could borrow some dice.

[Wider eyes make his expression even more speculative. The implication is not that they might play a normal game.]

[ She slides right on back against him when he does that, putting her hands on his biceps and holding on to them with a firm grip. This indulgence feels good, and his clear desire to keep her close feeds into that.

When he mentions the dice she studies his face with a slight smirk. She doesn't buy the wide-eyed innocence for one second. ]

What do the numbers mean, hm? For what you have in mind?

[ She works her thumbs against his muscles. He's so wiry, but fit—she's used to seeing well-muscled men in Freelancer and she's not sure if it's his diet that causes him to be so thin or if it's just genetics. It's something to wonder about; apparently, because she is. ]

[He hadn't been sure what she'd been doing with her hands a little while earlier, but now that she's running her hands over his arms, concentrating on the biceps, he understands that she's feeling what musculature he has. It's leaner and lighter than that of a lot of the other men around -- leaner and lighter than hers in the body she's usually in.]

Whatever we decide they mean. I'll make a list on the MID so no one can cheat.

Mm. Six body parts and six acts, then?

[ She likes muscles, even when they're this wiry. He's fitter than Church had been in either of the bodies he's had on the Moira. She doesn't really know whether she's turned on again or turned on still, but feeling them out leads to her tilting her head and licking at his jaw again. No biting this time though—she only does that when she's ready to commit to the act, but Daniel has made it clear he wants dinner first. She completes the licking with a soft kiss to the corner of his jaw. ]

Either way we have to go get dressed, you know.

That would make it interesting, but we could assign two numbers each to three different things, if you wanted there to be less risk.

[He rolls his head back, presses his eyelids together, then looks at her again.]

Why?

[After a beat, he adds, with an expression of capitulation,]

Oh, all right. Give me the towel.

Less risk?

[ She hooks her finger under his chin. ]

What's the point without risking something?

[ She plants one more kiss on his mouth and then climbs off of him to get the towel, brushing the sash aside when it starts to tangle up in her feet. The towel is in the dresser, and she returns with it directly. ]

Here.

[He's almost smiling as he watches her walk across the room.]

Good. But you never have to do anything you don't want to do.

[It's interesting to him how they've agreed -- without really bothering to formally discuss it -- that this will be happening again, probably even tonight. How long it will last, though, remains to be seen. It's certainly something he's interested in exploring and experiencing.

When she hands him the towel, he dabs at everything that needs to be cleaned, then swings his legs over the side of the bed and peers around the floor for his trousers while holding the towel out to her.]

Edited 2016-09-14 04:03 (UTC)

That's what the safe word is for.

[ It should be notable she didn't feel the need to use it during their encounter. It's good that he's turned out to be this trustworthy, though, since her own safety in this situation has barely been on her mind. She certainly doesn't think of it now.

She uses the towel to clean between her legs and then she goes to the dresser—she hadn't bothered with a pair of underwear when she knew she was anticipating his arrival, but if they're going to be going off to obtain dinner she figures she ought to wear something under her dress.

Once she's dressed, she comes over to him and she hooks her arm in his. ]

We ought to talk more about those things. When we get back.

Edited 2016-09-14 04:19 (UTC)

[He watches her dress, eventually retrieving his shirt and fastening it up the front, then slipping on the soft shoes that he's been wearing from place to place, so that when she comes back, he's ready to go. There's an impulse to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, but he resists it, nodding once at her suggestion.]

We will, if you think there's anything else to discuss.

You know, I'm really in the mood for more of those little crisp things they do here with the berry centers. I wonder if they have them today.

[Those little crispy things probably don't constitute a meal for anyone else at the party: they're on the dessert table. Even so, there don't seem to be any animals around... where is all the food coming from? Is it really all vegan?]

[ He dresses up nice, even if she never saw him wearing anything like this on the ship. She gives him a crooked smile before beginning to lead the way. ]

Well, they've had them every other day we've been here. Let's go look.

[ The buffet tables aren't far from this building, and tonight's party is starting to come into full swing, with the aliens in the process of setting out plates of delectable treats. Tex wanders off from Ryuuzaki—she still thinks of him by that name outside the bedroom, apparently—and picks out a grilled salad and some bread for her supper. She's pleased that he mainly remains near her, picking out a plate of something as well, and they select some desserts on the way back to the building. They did indeed have the tarts he had been hoping to find, and she takes two, since he was recommending them.

It takes only a moment to swing by the gambling tables and procure a set of dice as well. It's as simple as asking the native who's hosting the table for a spare.

It's sort of a belated realization that the bedroom has nowhere to sit when they return, but that doesn't deter Tex. She simply sets her plates down on the floor and sits down in front of them, knees bent to one side, since she's in a dress. ]

Edited 2016-09-14 11:46 (UTC)

[He keeps an eye on her as they move through the tables of food. In the end, his selections are similar to hers, but the proportions are lopsided: much more dessert than salad or bread. He follows her back to the room and, after glancing around, sits across from her on the floor, perpendicular to her. One of his legs is extended in front of him, and the other is bent at the knee, pulled up to his chest.

After a few bites, he muses,]

I could get used to this food. I have to admit, I'm not in a hurry to leave.

[ She's never had occasion to pay attention to his diet, so she has no idea if this is typical. It seems odd that he'd be so thin when he eats this much dessert, but it's really none of her business. She nods at his statement, savoring a bite of bread. ]

I want to stay here, myself. Just...stay.

[He finishes one of the berry "tarts," then starts in on another.]

It hasn't been boring. Aside from that, no one has been enslaved, no one is slaughtering whales, no one is trying to kill us. If we can't get home, this probably wouldn't be a bad place to stay, particularly if we can manage to integrate into this society.

They obviously want to help us to do that. We're welcome here. I don't see why we wouldn't take advantage of that.

[ This position has become a bit uncomfortable and she shifts her plate into her lap so she can stretch her legs, leading to her feet touching his leg. ]

[He shifts his position a little when her foot touches his leg, moving it about half an inch closer to reinforce the contact.]

I suppose we'll have to see how it goes. Maybe it will be symbiotic.

We don't seem to be the only ones having a good time... it seems like most of the rest of the crew would be in agreement. But it will probably involve negotiations... do you think the new captain is up for it?

I haven't talked to him yet. I get the impression the captain only wants the best for us though. I didn't used to feel that way, but here...

[ She shrugs slightly. ]

It's funny how many things that used to matter back on the ship don't seem to anymore. Not here.

[He tilts his head back, muses in the direction of the ceiling.]

Or before that. Things that mattered in my world that are beginning to seem increasingly pointless here.

[He reaches down to tear off a small piece of bread and pop it into his mouth, then follows it with a sip of the sweet wine he's brought to accompany the meal.]

Well, it probably isn't worth overthinking it. Pick a number between one and six.

[ Her mouth quirks up at the corner and she rubs her toes on his leg. ]

Five.

Neck.

[He raises his arm, which forces him to use his stomach muscles to hold himself up, then activates the program on his MID.]

Three.

[He glances at her with raised eyebrows. What will it be?]

Thighs.

[ She waits for him to put those in, having lost interest in finishing the last of her dinner. She sets the plate aside. ]

Number one ought to be the genitals. You pick for two and four.

[ That will just leave the number six for them to hash out. ]

[It takes him a moment to enter those, but as he does, the corner of his mouth quirks up.]

Two will be the chest or back. Four will be the arms or legs.

What about the other die?

Don't forget six. How about the mouth?

[ She says it teasingly, rubbing her toes on his leg.

Then she starts counting on her fingers to enumerate the acts that would go with the other die. ]

Scratch, suck, kiss... [ She grins. ] Bind.

You pick the other two.

Nibble... blow.

[Does that sound good to her? He's already entered "mouth" as six on the previous die. He reaches for his glass and drains it, very conscious of her toes on his leg.]

I suppose we differentiate them by rolling one at a time.

Makes sense to me.

[ She's quite excited for this game he's devised. The fact that he's adventurous as well as being confident feed into her desires for what their relations will continue to be like.

The dice had been set on the dresser when they arrived in the room. Now Tex arises from the floor, goes to get them, and sits down on the bed. She's planning to go first, no matter what he says—she wants to trade off since she was the one who had had her fantasies indulged the last time. ]

[L pushes himself up from the floor, lazily stretches his arms, then pads over to the bed, where he sprawls, supporting himself on an elbow. He taps his index finger to his lower lip.]

I suppose we should add that any clothes that are in the way come off.

[ She watches him, then reaches out just to swipe her hand down his chest. ]

That's just a part of the fun, Daniel.

[ Rolling of one die, and then the other, take place swiftly, and after consultation of his MID Tex is left with her instructions: a five and a two, meaning she is to nibble at his chest or back.

Tex scoots over to him, a sly smile on her lips. She pushes him back onto his back, then straddles him at his hips. Since this is the second time for them today she's not as impatient as she proved to be each of the two times they've had sex so far—she runs her hands over his chest and arms, then works the buttons on his shirt and pushes it open. She hasn't properly spent time appreciating his musculature here, and she runs her hands over his pecs and abs before bending her lips to his chest. She usually combines biting with sucking but since the two are mutually exclusive on the dice, she sticks to nibbling as she proceeds.

But the game isn't specific about combining the prescribed actions with things that aren't on the dice. She nibbles and licks a line from one nipple to the other, then drags her teeth on his nipple more firmly than she had on the planes of his chest. At the same time her fingers go to his other nipple and she rolls it lightly between her fingertips. ]

[He'd suggested the game simply because it was a game and could therefore be interesting, and because he knew dice were handy. What he hadn't projected is the fact that it makes him want to be temporarily passive, and that the obligation to roll would make him active again.

Still, for the time she's pecking at his chest, he leans back, encouraging her by resting a hand at the back of her head. Then she nips at one nipple and pinches the other between her fingertips, and he starts and makes a soft, sharp sound; his hand begins to clench, tugging slightly at her hair.

He processes the sensation as both slightly painful and pleasurable, something that goes to his head and to his groin in equal measure. It's strange. His inclination is to pull her up and kiss her, but that would seem to be against the rules of the game for as long as they're playing it, so he doesn't.]

You take your tasks seriously.

[His tone is gently teasing.]

[ She glances up at him, smirking a bit. ]

I'm glad you're coming to understand me.

[ She continues to lavish attention on him for another several moments, biting a line back to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment as the first before pulling away. She grabs the dice and sets them on his chest so he doesn't have to get up. ]

Your turn.

[ It should be clear, with that, that no matter what he rolls, she intends to stay right here, straddled on top of him. ]

[He's more prepared when he feels her teeth on the second nipple: better able to process the way it's just at the edge of being uncomfortable, better able to keep from straining underneath her -- but he lets that part happen anyway.

It's a little bit awkward to roll dice that are on his own chest, but he holds as still as he can and manages it without too much trouble. He gets a 3, then a 4.]

"Kiss arm or leg." -- What if I want to kiss both of them?

[He doesn't wait for an answer before he takes her hand and kisses the back of it, then the palm, then laces his fingers with hers. He moves up her arm to the crook of her elbow, keeping his mouth soft.]

Edited 2016-09-15 20:13 (UTC)

Make it happen, then.

[ It doesn't bother her that his roll led to something gentler, less sexual. With the way he's carrying it out, it's certainly sensual. Again, there are no rules against herself reciprocating in ways that aren't part of the dice activities, so she cups his cheek with her other hand and runs her thumb along the shell of his ear. ]

[He releases the hand he's holding and leans into the hand that's touching his ear, then finds the fastening of the skirt and undoes it. It takes some contortion and some changing of positions before he can reach it, but he kisses her hip once it's bare, then pulls the skirt down further and kisses her thigh.]

I suppose the way you win this game is by getting bored with it.

[He's not bored yet, however.]

Your roll.

[The dice are on the bed... somewhere. He pats blindly at the mattress with his hand, still kissing her, before he finds one and holds it triumphantly in the air at arm's length.]

[ She ends up sitting on his chest by the time he's done kissing various parts of her, but she scoots back down to roll the dice. ]

Mm...maybe that's one way of looking at it.

[ She rolls, right onto his chest as he had done. A two and a three—which indicates she should suck at the skin of his thighs. ]

You're losing your clothes faster than me.

[ Her tone is teasing, quite pleased. She runs her hands down his sides, scooting back enough to be able to reach the fastening on his pants. She doesn't simply undo his pants and pull them off, though—she has a goal in mind here, which is to entice him, even if this act isn't quite the one she wishes she could carry out at this point. She keeps her hands roving, teasing his navel with her thumbs, then unfastening his pants. She works them down independent of the undergarment underneath, slips them down his legs, and pulls them off his feet. Now she's kneeling at the end of the bed between his calves, and she runs her fingers along his feet, shins, and knees before leaning in to put her mouth to his inner thigh.

Will the skin of his thighs bruise as easily as the soft skin of his neck? She intends to find out. She sucks at several spots, moving from one thigh to the other, and working her way closer and closer to his balls. She ends by putting her mouth to his cloth-covered genitals and licking lightly along the length of him, pulling away after a quick lap at his navel and grabbing the dice before he can. ]

So sorry, my turn again.

[ This is said with a wicked smirk. ]

[He glances at her new rolls with raised eyebrows, then shrugs as if it can't be helped -- it's a terrible shame, etc. etc. -- and rests his head against the pillows.

What she's doing almost immediately works on him as well as she could have wished. His slight hardness turns into a real erection as she sucks at the sensitive skin on his inner thighs, then tongues his length with only a thin layer of cloth separating them. He has to make a point of regulating his breathing, but he still trembles. It's an issue of both sensation and anticipation, and he wants more.

He doesn't make any move to take the dice back from her when she nabs them. That she may cheat and what she may do is easy to predict at this point, and entirely welcome. Still:]

The penalty for cheating... [(his voice is thick)]... is taking off the rest of your clothes.

What a cruel punishment.

[ She does as he likely expected, setting the dice down one at a time, purposely turning them so that the message is to suck on the genitals. ]

Oh, look. I guess, since I stole your turn...we should both do this one. What do you think?

[ She returns to the space between his legs, pulling her top off, followed by the skirt, which is easily pull up over her head since the fastening is undone. She works her underwear off, then pulls his off. But none of this is done in a hurry. In fact, she runs her hands over his skin between the removal of each garment, though she's out of reach for him to return the favor.

Once that's all taken care of, she crawls over him, turning around, and lowers her pelvis toward his face. He'll likely help her get things lined up properly. ]

[This is the first time since this began the night before that he's felt like he might truly be in over his head -- where his inexperience might show, or he might be overwhelmed by everything that's happening. Yet it's still interesting to explore the areas she takes him to, even if she's not aware that they're new territory for him. The undressing is easy to submit to -- it's what comes next that worries him a little.

He elects just to go with it. If it doesn't work for either of them, they can move on to something else. He's never done what he's about to do with her, but he'd never done the vast majority of the other things they've done, either, and it's good to try them with a more seasoned guide.

He wraps his arms around her thighs, helping her line things up properly. It's a decent fit. Her skin is warm and smooth, and he has to remind himself that she's not in her usual form... it's hard to say how long the connection itself will last, and if it does, she may not always look or feel like this. But she'd been pretty in a different way before this.

He separates the folds surrounding her clit with a delicate touch, then kisses her inner thighs a few times, then puts his mouth on her more directly -- no teeth, gentle suction.

How he'll stand up to reciprocation is another matter.]

[ It's immediately apparent as he begins to use his mouth on her that their height difference is going to become a factor, which is a terrible shame in her opinion. She has to scoot forward a bit to be able to bring her mouth to the head of his cock—which shouldn't be too much of an obstacle, since he can bend his neck forward to reach her. It'll just be when she goes to draw more of him into her mouth, she thinks, that this will be more of a problem.

Until that happens, in the meantime, she lavishes attention on the head of his cock with her tongue—she licks the end of his foreskin, then circles the base of the head with her tongue, before drawing it slowly into her mouth. She doesn't start sucking yet, though, just licks it wetly and circles the head again. At the same time she begins drawing her hand down the shaft, and scratching lightly at his balls. ]

[The length of her torso isn't quite extensive enough to make this easy, and while he lifts his head as she leans forward, trying to maintain their contact, it's not exactly comfortable. It'll strain his neck if he does it for too long.

That won't be for a while, though. For the time being, he seems to be able to suck and lick with a firm tongue automatically: it keeps him from making more than a soft, helpless noise when she takes the head of his cock into her mouth. He flexes his fingers into a grip on her thighs. Only one or two things in the physical realm have ever felt better in his life, and they've all entered it in the past twenty-four hours.

To encourage her, he tries to keep his tongue moving faster, and he straightens his left arm and tries to find her breast with his hand, intending to cup and massage it.]

[ She hums a high-pitched sound and starts sucking on the head of his cock when he finds her breast. Reciprocation seems to be the name of the game—escalating things when he escalates, and waiting for him to return the favor. She's not impatient, but she does tip her hips back and forth a little to encourage him to keep a consistent motion up with his tongue.

Soon enough she finds that it's time to broaden the scope of what she's doing, which necessitates pulling away from his mouth just a tad, like she'd predicted. It's strange, though—she seems programmed to find blow-jobs enjoyable, and to know exactly how to execute them, yet when she draws him fully into her mouth she gags a little. A limitation of the body she's been placed in, it seems. She avoids repeating the mistake, sucking him to about half the depth of her mouth, bobbing her mouth up and down his shaft. She interrupts this action now and then with a broad lick, a circle around the head, in a repetition of her initial act. ]

[When she takes him further into her mouth, his head falls back, and he moans -- but she gags, so he strokes her thigh encouragingly with the hand that's still on it.

It seems that it's easier for her to take less of him into her mouth the same way it's easier for him not to try to maintain the contact of his mouth with her clit. He frees his arm from under her leg -- carefully -- then reaches between them so that he can stimulate her with his hand. He slips his thumb into her and touches her with his index finger, but there isn't much room to move them.

Can this get much better? He needs further information, and he gets it when the velvet stroke of her hot tongue awakens something new, something that he feels at his core. He's not particularly close to coming, but he moans again.]

Oh! Allison.

[ He's smart enough not to leave her unstimulated, and she welcomes the feeling of his hand against her, being wet enough from his tongue for the change in sensation not to matter too much. The places where he touches her are tingling with her desire for him. She whimpers again and chances drawing him further into her mouth on the next pass.

And then he calls her name. That cements it—being called Allison by him is very different from being called Allison by someone else. She shudders a little to hear it, then thrusts her hips down against his hand, bobbing her head a touch faster as she continues to suck at him. She pauses to give him another broad lick with her tongue—this time she passes it over his foreskin and down his shaft to his balls, and she sucks on them for a few moments before returning to the head.]

[He catches her little shudder. He hadn't called her name as an experiment... it hadn't been intentional at all. She had pulled it out of him in quite a different way than he would have said it if he were using it as a tool. Her reaction strongly implies that she liked it, but he doesn't know if it's because it's her name, or because of the way she's drawn it from him.

When her mouth is on his balls, he clutches her breast tightly for a moment, then releases it and slaps down on the mattress beside them with the flat of his hand, making a sound of pleasure and exasperation.

How is this so good? He'd had an idea of rolling around with her in bed, kissing her and leaning down over her and feeling her legs around his waist, and it now seems that projection might have involved excessive optimism on his part... he may not make it that long. His torso struggles under her; his toes curl. It's all he can do to maintain any sort of rhythm or motion on her with his hand.]

[ Her mouth comes off his dick just enough to speak. ]

No, no—

[ She reaches blindly back for his hand, the one that had hit the mattress. She overreaches, or something—she doesn't find it. ]

Me, hit me.

[This is where his flexibility comes into play. He's not sure that hitting anyone does anything for him. Very likely, it doesn't -- not in the way that control does. But to an extent, he knows that he'll do what he needs to do to take a situation to where it wants to be... and anyway, she's the one with the safe word. If she's asking for this and not talking about elephants, it's what she wants.

He moves his hand up from the mattress to her thigh, then rests it against her bottom, then delivers a small, sharp slap.]

Good?

Edited 2016-09-16 02:12 (UTC)

[ She has returned to sucking his cock, not intending to leave him wanting, but she sort of lets out a snort when he asks that. He's always so delicate with her until she shows him how hard she wants things. She leaves that alone, though, figuring they can either address it later or he'll figure it out on his own. ]

[That didn't sound precisely like a noise of approval, although he can't tell whether the snort is over the slap or the fact that he asked her about it. His breathing hitches, then he lets out a soft resigned sigh.

It's not tempting to slap her too hard when his cock is in her mouth, but he tries again, harder and sharper, and waits for a sign rather than asking her for an opinion.]

[ Better—still not ideal, but better. Anyway, she's mostly concentrating on his pleasure at this point. A good slap would be most appreciated when he's pounding her from behind or similar anyway, and she's certainly not going to insist on a change in position for that.

In any case she lets out a hum, a more approving sound, tips her hips against his hand, and moves her own hand to the base of his shaft to begin pumping the lower half of his penis in time with the movements of her mouth. This leaves her in a tripod position, supporting her weight on three limbs, but she knows this will bring him closer to climaxing. She brings her mouth off his cock with a wet pop, licks broadly at his foreskin, and then starts bobbing her head again, faster and harder. ]

[He tries to keep working at her with his hand, but it's hard to concentrate on anything else now. He feels so many sensations at once, all in the same sensitive area: heat, the wetness of her mouth and softness of her tongue, the friction from her hand.

She overwhelms him. He shakes under her and clutches at her hip with the hand that isn't inside her. There's a warning twitch and a half-second of stillness, and then an explosion of pleasure.

He's not quiet about it.]

[ She keeps her mouth on him, swallowing back everything as he comes. She takes it as a compliment that he can't seem to keep quiet, passing her hand gently over his balls as his climax dies down. It's all right that he hasn't worked her up to orgasm yet—at this point she'd like to turn around and face him properly for that. Which is the move she makes next—crawling off of him, turning around, and laying with her head in the gap next to his shoulder. ]

You want me to sit on your face or lie down on my back to finish?

[ She fiddles with his hair at his temple, then runs her fingers down the side of his face. She doesn't mind if he tells her he wants to rest a bit first. ]

[He leans into her caressing hand, then turns his head and kisses her cheek.

All he really wants to do is rest for a moment, but it seems she wants him to reciprocate. That's all right, if his goal is future repeat occasions.]

Lie down on your back. Or on your side.

Which do you like?

My back, I think.

[ She reciprocates the kiss by kissing him on the lips. Then she rolls off of him onto her back, pulling his arm out from under her head. Concentrating on him the way she had had calmed her drive a bit, so she starts messing with her nipples, working to turn herself back on again. ]

[He stretches his feet, then rolls over onto her and works his way down. She's already playing with her own nipples, so he doesn't stop there, instead kissing lazily down her stomach.

What to do here? The things he'd done a few minutes earlier had been his first attempt at this sort of thing, and they hadn't gotten far enough that he'd been able to tell what specific actions would work best for her. It's going to be harder now -- his mind is a little less sharp than it had been at the time. The best thing to do is probably to get started again.

He separates her lower lips with his fingertips, then lowers his mouth to her clit, alternately sucking and tonguing to see what she responds to better.]

[ She whimpers and writhes a bit, moving a hand from her chest to entangle in his hair. She doesn't realize he's testing her to see what she'll like best—she just thinks he's keeping things from being stale by mixing it up. Something she appreciates, and she moves her hips against his mouth when she feels it's time to encourage him to move his tongue faster. ]

[... Well, that's inconclusive. She likes what he's doing, but he can't discern whether she likes one aspect more than any other. Every signal she's offering is a signal of encouragement.

He tries to intensify everything: more suction, faster action with his tongue. The suction is harder to maintain than the tongue movements, so he defaults to those. The taste is salty and warm, not unpleasant, not too far from the way she smells.

Are all women's bodies always like this? They're supposed to be, but he can't say for sure how well the created body has duplicated a real one. He has nothing to compare it to -- not this intimately.]

[ Now she makes some more noises, letting out a small moan and flexing her hand in his hair to tug it a bit, a way of signaling encouragement. ]

Finger me, too.

[ She bends her head down a little to look at him, to see that he follows her instructions. ]

[He snorts, mainly because he was considering it, and because it's the sole direction she's given him, and because he'd have to stop tonguing her to say anything more.

After a moment's consideration involving exactly which finger to use and where his hand will go, he rests his hand on her inner thigh, alongside his face, and presses his thumb into her. Once it's in about halfway, he makes lazy circles with it.]

[ She misinterprets the reason for the snort and rolls her eyes. ]

Oh, you can handle it.

[ When he brings his hand up she spreads her thighs wider to make room. And of course, there he goes being gentle again. She tugs his hair a bit. ]

Do everything harder.

[He gives her a very direct look -- I'm getting there -- even though he's probably most visible as a pair of eyes and a mop of dark hair and not too much more. The tug at his hair would be a turn-on if he were ready to go again, but with his face already between her thighs, it's more like a small bonus.

She wants it harder, so he does it harder, wrapping his free arm around her leg, sucking and licking at the same time, moving his thumb faster and more roughly, waiting to see if it will be enough for her... and tucking the information away, in the hopes that it will be relevant in the future.]

[ That's a lot more like it. She lets the sensations build with a few whimpers, pushing her hand through his hair a couple of times, letting her head fall back when she's close, moaning. And then she comes, and though it's not nearly as intense as the one earlier, it's still good. ]

[Feeling her come is both gratifying and a relief. What if he really hadn't been able to make it happen? He'd been trying, but from a position of a total lack of expertise, and he's aware that not every body always responds to even the most sophisticated ministrations.

So far, she doesn't seem to think he's clumsy, though. He slides up between her thighs, folds his arms under him, and rests his hands under his chin on top of her stomach, watching her.]

I can't believe I was worried about breaking you. Maybe I should have been more concerned that you'll wear me out.

[His tone indicates that he's joking -- about both things.]

[ She smirks, running her hand through his hair to extricate it, and smoothing it down. ]

Am I testing your limits?

[Possibly, a little, although he's not really sure exactly where they are. Establishing them is more like it, but they haven't really hit the outer edges.

He turns his head to the side, resting it against her abdomen.]

I'm not sure whether I'd call that question optimistic or pessimistic. It might take you a while to find them.

[There's a question implied there: do you want to invest the time?]

[ Her smirk grows into a grin and she rubs lightly at his cheek. ]

Mm, good answer.

[ She runs her hand down to his neck, then his shoulder. ]

Hey. Come kiss me, huh?

[He raises his head and moves his hands to the bed on either side of her, then crawls forward on all fours until their faces are even with each other, then rests on his elbows, the weight of his torso on hers.

He looks her in the eye and lowers his mouth to kiss her.]

What about your limits?

[It's apparent that they haven't touched them, but he wonders what she'll say.]

[ She sets her hands on his sides and rubs at them, letting him settle onto her. It's weird—in her normal body she'd be more muscular than him, and that wouldn't bother her at all, but somehow it's nice being more petite than him like she is in this body. ]

Just don't treat me like a china doll and you're doing good.

[ She kisses him again, letting it draw out for a few extra moments. ]

We probably ought to have a more specific talk about that stuff, though, shouldn't we?

[ Moving a hand to his cheek, she rubs it with her thumb and kisses him once more, lightly. ]

[He looks at her through one eye, leaving the other closed.]

Should we?

[It's not as arch and cool as it might otherwise be. He kisses her again -- her mouth is two inches away and almost irresistible.]

So we're both interested in continuing this. I wanted to be sure.

[ She moves her arm to curl up by her ear, stretching lightly, and accepts his kiss with a small smile. ]

Yes. On both counts.

[ She tilts her head to rest on his. ]

Do you want to make an appearance at the party tonight, or just...?

[ It's tempting to remain here, curled up comfortably, though dancing together also sounds nice. ]

To be honest, I don't really care about the party.

[He's not there to care about it: he's here. There will be a party tomorrow and the next day and probably the day after that, until they can leave... but he doesn't really want to leave. He doesn't even particularly want to leave this room, unless it's to get more food and wine... and not that, if they can get someone to bring it to them.

It doesn't really occur to him to wonder why, nor that this lack of concern is uncharacteristic.]

What do you want to do? It wouldn't be a bad time for your discussion.

Let's stay then.

[ The words are uttered quietly and she puts her hand on his cheek to bring his lips to hers for a longer kiss. Like him, it simply hasn't occurred to her that her behavior is out of character—for example, she spent more time making out with Wash the night before than she ever spent with Church. Yet that's not on her mind—instead what she's thinking is that kissing Daniel is more fulfilling than kissing Wash was, and that Daniel ought to have just as much time devoted to it, if not more.

And so she kisses him; long, tender kisses that luxuriate in being able to indulge this way, her hand passing over his cheek, his neck, his hair. She feels good here with him, this unusual man who barely caught her eye until yesterday, who can now send a shiver down her spine simply by saying her name. ]

[He could rest against her and allow himself to be kissed, or roll over onto his back to facilitate it more, but he doesn't feel like being passive with her. Her hand on his cheek, his neck, his hair... he doesn't mirror it by conscious design, but nonetheless, he reciprocates what she's doing, and does it just as tenderly. Gentleness isn't alien to him, but this kind of tenderness is new.

Apart from that, he feels more compelled to kiss her than merely tempted. Is it because of the body? He doubts that, too. It's because the connection between them has changed.]

I think I'm getting the better end of the deal.

[As opposed to anyone who's at a party, he means.]

This is better.

[ She agrees with gentle smile, then looks over his face with a flicker of her eyes. ]

You always look so tired. [ She smooths her fingertip across his cheekbone, just under the dark circles that dominate his face. ] We can talk, and you can sleep if you want. I'm okay if you end up staying.

[ It's so odd for her to feel that way. But she's speaking sincerely. ]

So where do you want to start? With limits? [ That's what caused the idea of a talk to come up, after all. ]

[Staying....

He's always assumed that if something like this ever happened to him, it would be for one of two reasons. The first would be that he had become so emotionally invested in someone that it became inevitable. That's the kind of entanglement he tries to avoid, but he's only human, and he had nearly been there before he'd been pulled abruptly through the Ingress. The second possibility was a desire to get it over with, to try to slake normal physical urges with a partner just for the sake of trying it. In the case of the former, he'd imagine that he'd want to stay all night, and the latter, he'd want to leave as soon as he could.

This isn't really either of those things: it's somewhere in between. He has a dim notion that maybe he should leave, go back to his own room, sleep there... but he doesn't really want to. Allison is warm and comfortable, and he feels rather cozy with her, and the idea of her being there in the night or in the morning is appealing... it seems very feasible that their mutual desire may rise again.]

I'm not as tired as I look, but you're right that I probably need to rest for a while.

[He rolls off of her to rest on his side, and tries to turn her so that they're face to face on the pillow.]

Limits... I didn't want to take the risk of overestimating yours.

[ They really are on the same wavelength, somehow—she'd been planning on nudging him into the same position within a few minutes. She rolls onto her side, bringing up one leg to rest between his legs. She curls her arms up between them, resting one beneath his chin. And she brushes her fingers there, feeling the slight stubble. ]

On the other hand, I think you're starting to work out you don't need to be too gentle. But to be quite honest, I've never hit my limit on stuff like spanking or being tied or...any of that. I—

[ She doesn't assume he'll want specifics about past partners, so she doesn't mention now that she's only ever been with Church. ]

I'd like to test my limits, honestly. If you think that's the sort of thing you'd like.

The only thing I really have is I don't like being on my back and just being fucked like that. I have to really trust you for that. And I mean, you might be able to earn that, so don't think I'm saying that's a hard no. It's just...work me up to it. If you want that.

[ It sounds weird, explaining how much she dislikes missionary position as a matter of trust, when she had been all right with him tying her, but...well, she still hasn't thought through much having to do with that situation. If she'd been thinking much at all, rather than acting on her lust, it's likely that never would have happened so early on in their having relations. ]

[Their new position feels companionable, with her leg folded between his and their conversational negotiations underway. He reaches over and touches her hair with the tips of his fingers, running them down the length of it.]

Testing... it could be interesting. I have to say that spanking isn't precisely my natural inclination, but I'm not averse to doing it if you enjoy it.

[When he'd come to the room earlier, he'd had the idea that she would be on her back at some point, and now that she's told him she doesn't like it, he wonders why. Vulnerability would be his first guess. If she's talking about earning it, then her dislike for the position is probably not the result of something specific that happened to her in the past.

That doesn't trouble him too much... maybe if she allowed it, it would be an indication that he's in a little too deep. It also suggests that she won't have much problem with being on top, which is appealing because it's less work for him on the whole... and because he can watch her, and use his hands.]

What about food?

Food? Like licking whipped cream off, that kind of thing?

[ She moves her hand to run a finger along his bottom lip. ]

I've never tried it. I'd be willing to, though. As long as it wasn't something ridiculous. Like honey.

[He opens his mouth and takes her finger in, then tries to delicately speak around it.]

Honey is too sticky.

[But maybe there are times when sticky is what's wanted. He tongues around her fingertip.]

[ She smirks, breathing out a slight chuckle. ]

I would think that was symbolic but I think you're not ready for another blow-job yet.

[ His refractory period seems rather longer than that, going by what happened earlier. ]

I'm not. Although I'd never discourage you from taking your chances.

[He says that blandly, half-joking, removing her finger from his mouth with his hand to do it. But then he moves to put it back and says,]

Maybe I just like your hands.

If you don't like to be on your back, then I'll be on mine. What about like this, the way we are now?

[ She smiles more broadly at that and swipes her fingers more firmly over his lips, then cups his jaw line with her whole hand. At the latter question, she snugs herself up closer with a small scooch of her hips, readjusting the angle of the leg that lies between his. ]

I've never tried.

[ She doesn't intend to oversell her sexual prowess—though she is programmed with very clear understanding of her proclivities, that doesn't mean she's tried much of anything up to this point in the body the Ingress gave her. ]

Seems like it might be tricky, but...worth trying.

Really?

[A curious expression appears in the form of a vertical line between his eyebrows; he had assumed more experience on her part. Or maybe it's just a weird quirk, one of those things that happens... she's never done it that way because she's never done it that way.]

I haven't either. We'll have to see. It seems like it would be relatively easy if our legs are in the right place.

Mm-hmm.

[ She leans in to kiss him on the lips again. ]

Maybe that's the next thing we'll try.

[ Two more affectionate kisses follow before she lays her head down on the pillow. If he chases her lips, she has no problems, but otherwise it seems time to relax and let some dozing happen. ]

I've never felt more at home in my life. I hope we never leave.

It had been a fairly typical day, as they went here while the ship has been docked at the minicolony. Tex had suffered a bout of exhaustion after their foray onto the minicolony the first day, so she's mainly been living on the ship while others do their traveling back and forth. On this particular day, she and Daniel met up for dinner after the workday, and after they finished, decided to go back to her room together. They no longer have to worry about privacy, as Nate is in cryo and Matt has disappeared. The prospect of not needing to worry about being interrupted is exciting in its own way and she's anticipating being able to participate more in their activities than she was able to do the last time.

Tex isn't expecting to find a box outside her door when they approach, but here it is. It's been a while since mail call meant receiving something she would actually want, not since she received her deck of playing cards. "Could you carry that in for me?" she asks Daniel, knowing already that opening this in front of him could mean making herself vulnerable in a way she's going to be uncomfortable with. Yet she knows she won't be able to leave it sit in the corner unopened and enjoy herself in bed, so opening it will probably be happening shortly.

He's been walking along beside her through the corridors. It would be natural to pull back a little when she approaches the door, to give her a chance to get inside first, but seeing the box there, he doesn't. Instead, he anticipates the request to bring the box in and is bending over to pick it up the moment she asks.

"It probably doesn't have a bomb in it," he says dryly.

What's weird about the box is that it's a little too large for its weight. A small, heavy box would be normal; this one has a few relatively heavy things inside it, poorly distributed, but the overall weight seems inconsistent.

Once they're inside, he sets it on the bed that doesn't currently have an owner, the one that had belonged to the blind roommate.

She snorts a little when he says that, keying the door open and letting him through. "I wouldn't be surprised," she remarks, following him in. "I'm just going to get this over with," she adds. "I'm not good at waiting on surprises."

After he puts the box down she approaches it, setting her cane alongside the box on the mattress, and using the bed as leverage to lean on. She sets her hands on the top of the box, pauses a moment, then opens the flaps.

The item right on top is recognizable to her immediately—she saw it in the files about Allison when she was retrieving Connie's evidence. It's Allison's hat, with her unit insignia on it. Her hand goes to cover her mouth momentarily before she reaches in and takes it, holding it with one hand and thumbing at the stars in the insignia with the other. She doesn't really need to keep looking at it, though, and she determines right away she's not liable to ever wear it—she'll just put it in her bottom dresser drawer with the baby doll. Things of Allison's aren't hers and she wishes the Ingress would stop pulling in reminders of that.

She flattens her mouth in a line and sets the hat down next to the box, then reaches in again. This time it's a sturdy, thick hoodie that appears to be about her size with the UNSC logo on it. She holds it up to herself and then drapes it over her arm. This she'll wear. She reaches in again—the next item is a pair of black BDU pants, apparently to match with the hoodie. "See, this is the kind of shit the Ingress needs to pull in," she says. "Useful stuff." Reminders of home that aren't reminders of bad things.

Speaking of which—she looks back in the box and scoffs, shaking her head. "Not a bomb," she says. "Just two dud grenades." They're clearly duds because the pins have already been pulled.

It's interesting that she clearly doesn't consider the hat useful, and that it had shocked her somehow, but he frowns and tucks that aside for a moment in the presence of dud grenades. Those make him look slightly alarmed, although they do serve to explain the weird weight distribution in the box.

On one hand, they might still be dangerous, but on the other, they hadn't exploded coming through the Ingress -- they probably won't explode sitting quietly in a room.

"What's wrong with the hat?"

Edited 2016-10-17 04:17 (UTC)

Of course he would notice and latch on to her reaction to the hat. She'd tried to suppress it, but it had been shocking to see and she hadn't been able to keep it completely under wraps.

"It's not mine," she mutters. She rubs her cheek, sets the clothes down, and picks up her cane and the hat so she can go to the dresser and put it away. After doing so she straightens and turns to face him. He's so intense about such things; just looking at him and his curious expression is too much and she glances off to one side. "Please don't ask me any more questions about that."

She doesn't know what threshold she'll reach where she feels more inclined to share her origin story with him—and maybe they'll never get there at all—but she knows she's not there now.

He responds with a long look, troubled and perplexed, then replies, "All right."

That presents a problem: he would pursue the subject if he didn't care on some level about upsetting her.

On the other hand, if he didn't care about her at all, would he have any interest in her reaction to the hat? It seems unlikely... it's clearly an item of personal importance, nothing that's likely to affect the ship or him, except as it affects her.

If not hers, then whose -- whose could it be that it would have this kind of effect on her? It's just a hat... and more than a hat, but he doesn't understand why yet.

"At least some of the other things are useful. But what are you going to do with those grenades?"

"I'll just space them," she says. "Fucking hell." She lets out an exasperated sound and pushes her hair back off of her forehead. "You know, it's supposed to be that the Ingress just pulls these things in from our universes randomly, but sometimes it sure doesn't seem random, does it?"

He sits down heavily on the nearest mattress -- that of the kid who's in cryo.

"No, it doesn't. Although I suppose it could be worse. On the last ship, I was given a tin of surstromming once. It was remarkable... it wasn't labeled, and once I'd opened it, I couldn't stop throwing up."

Edited (icon) 2016-10-17 04:59 (UTC)

"Random disgusting stuff is better than stuff that seems like a targeted reminder," she disagrees. She returns to the box and picks up the sweatshirt and pants to put away—not in the bottom drawer, but with the rest of her clothes. That leaves the box and the grenades, which she figures will be fine on Matt's bed for now. She moves over to her bed and sits. She doesn't call him over to her right away, instead sitting with her hands folded on the head on the cane, looking a bit pensive.

Reminder?

Of what?

"Differently bad. Another of the tins I was given was filled with jam and human teeth."

But that had been a reminder, hadn't it -- in a way, if he tilted his head.

"Still... if it's targeted, how is it getting here? Through something Mana is doing, but Mana is apparently the ship." He sounds more genuinely interested in figuring this out than like he's trying to reason with her. Sometimes the things do seem targeted, but why? It's not for the reasons that they were on the Tranquility.

"Okay, that's just gross." She shakes her head. "I know I'm not the only one this sort of thing has happened to, so it's not like there's someone in my home universe directing which items be sent to me." That's an implication Wash had made when they had argued after the arrival of the doll, but it wasn't an implication that made much sense in that light. "So it must be Mana, I guess. If there's an intelligence behind it, that's the most likely source." Occam's razor and all that.

She hadn't been looking at him—hasn't looked at him since she told him not to ask her more questions about the hat—but she finally looks over toward where he sits. "Sometimes it feels like...I don't know, like all of this is the biggest, stupidest accident, but there's just no way at all for it just to be an accident. Not with the way things are timed, and..." She frowns. She can't explain what she means further without discussing Church and his various appearances on the ship. And she doesn't want to broach the subject of him with Daniel. So instead she'll be vague. "It almost seems better not to show any sort of reaction toward someone from home showing up. If you're happy they're here, they're liable to disappear again. And if you would rather they disappeared, well...they just stick around like a cancer."

He holds her gaze, raising his hand to his chin and tapping the pad of his thumb against his lower lip contemplatively.

"No one from my home has ever showed up here -- not since I was originally pulled in on the other ship. Not here, either. I've seen people here who were on that ship, but they had no memory of it, so I can only assume... I don't know, different parallel universes, different timelines, something like that. If you remember Clara Oswald, I've known her at least three times, but she never remembers the last."

It's easier to talk about Clara than Darcy... and likewise, he expects that she's discussing something specific rather than something general. He remembers her conversation with Washington -- one he doesn't intend to let on that he's read. Not yet, anyway.

After a moment, he tilts his head and concedes, "It could really be a problem if someone from home did turn up here, however, particularly if they had any staying power. But Mana... I'm not sure it makes sense to conclude that Mana does this consciously. It's too scattershot... maybe it's a side effect of her existence and the way the Ingress has been broken, some kind of strange combination. Still, we can certainly examine the subject with an eye to whether or not it's intentional."

"Right. I was thinking there may be some absorption of knowledge somehow—and it could be she's using the knowledge unconsciously. I'm not good at thinking about the metaphysical though." She deals much better in the here and now, with the physical. This theory sort of makes her feel better, though the grenades still seem like a chilling reminder of her own failures and she would prefer to get rid of them before doing much else. She's been keeping the box in the corner of her vision and she turns her head to look at it before returning her attention to him.

"Daniel?" she says then. "Can you help me space those grenades? They're going to bug me as long as they're here."

She's tucked away the mention of people from home causing him problems for later. This seems to be the priority right now, and besides, it doesn't seem prudent to ask when she had just rebuffed him asking questions about her own life.

Edited 2016-10-17 05:42 (UTC)

"Of course. Although to be honest, I'd rather we got someone else to carry them... I suppose it's best just to get them out of here, though."

He gets to his feet again, his hand falling to his side.

"Have you ever airlocked anything before?"

"Not here," she says. "I was going to once, though, so I know the procedure." She stands with him and goes to open the door, preparing for when he goes to exit the room with the box.

"Before we go, I really think it would be a good idea to wrap these in something."

He glances around, then pulls the blanket off of the bed that doesn't currently have an owner, then sets it between the grenades so they won't shift and knock against each other.

"All right."

He precedes her out of the room, not particularly happy to be carrying the box. His mouth is a straight line, but not a tight one.

Tex isn't as concerned, though what he's done is sensible. So she doesn't comment on it, simply comes to his side after he gets through the door and walks alongside him to the nearest airlock. It's some way, but she's more capable of walking distances now, even if she does need the assistance of a cane.

Once they arrive she keys the control to the inner airlock door to open it. "You just have to set that in there and then we reverse the doors," she says. A quick and easy solution to their problem.

He nods, removing the blanket, then setting the box inside. The expression on his face is complicated: watchful, a little unhappy, also a little curious.

She doesn't notice his expression right away—first she toggles the door closed. Then she glances over at him as she begins the sequence to open the outside door. This is a bit complicated, but only in that the system requires that the doors both be closed before that one can open. "It's okay, Daniel," she says as she works at changing the orientation of the switches. "This is the best solution to the situation."

"It is," he agrees. "It's only that I'm worried that the change in pressure will somehow... well. If there were an accident in this situation, it would probably be catastrophic. Better that they're off the ship, though, even if it's unlikely that they're live."

He'll look more relaxed once they're really gone.

Which they are, moments later. She closes the hatch again and goes over to him. "You've been really helpful to me lately," she says, acknowledging not only this but his help on the minicolony earlier in the month when they retrieved the AI units. "I guess I don't say it much, but thank you."

He nods; his relief allows a tiny smile to make its way to his face.

Reaching out to take her hand, he says, "Thanks aren't necessary, but still... you're welcome, Allison."

He has been helpful. It's a combination of following her cues and attempting to perform the role of "good boyfriend," one that wouldn't come naturally if he didn't put some thought into it, into doing it intentionally. It would be easy to bury himself in his new job, never leave the Tower. But the thought of her pulls him out of that a little, enough to divert some of his attention.

Her reaction is odd; she takes his hand, but she grips it too hard.

"Don't," she says. "I know I gave you permission before but just don't...don't call me that. Call me Tex."

It's weird, it had seemed before that hearing Allison's name in his accent made it okay, but now all she can think about is the Director calling out that name, causing it to echo amongst the AIs and their agents. Allison, Allison, Allison. She knows it's her name but it's not hers in the way Texas is. It will always belong to the shadow of the Director's lost love and so it means death and destruction to all the people that the Project touched.

Tex doesn't realize she's actually blanched. She's usually strong in the face of such things, but this evening everything has come down on her fast and hard and she can't help the physical reaction she's having. She sort of feels light-headed, thus why she's holding on so hard. She pulls his hand to her chest and tries to settle herself, gripping her cane just as hard.

It's easy for him to see that she's distressed -- pale and unsettled -- and he responds with a searching, perplexed, perturbed look.

The way she's gripping his hand means that her request is unlikely to be the result of something he's done. Timing suggests that it's probably something to do with the mail delivery, and she hadn't seemed too concerned about the grenades... she'd been pleased about the clothing. The only part of the delivery that she'd been unhappy with was the hat. But what the connection is between the two things, particularly for an A.I., he can't say. Maybe something has been building for a while, as she regains her strength, and some small element of what's happened in the past fifteen or twenty minutes finally got her to the breaking point.

What, though?

She hasn't told him to leave; she's merely asked for him to call her something else. That's not too difficult, although he thinks of her as Allison... when he thinks of her as he falls asleep, he thinks of Allison, what Allison will like, whether or not he can make Allison smile. More than anyone else, though, he knows that a different name does not make someone a different person.

"I'll call you whatever you want me to call you," he replies quietly. "Tex. Are you all right?"

Tex's tendency is ignore it when she's off-kilter like this—she just grits her teeth and moves on, regardless of the physical reaction going on. Being questioned directly like this makes that harder. She's hanging on to him as if for dear life; she's far beyond hiding the fact that this is bothering her. She takes a slow breath and rolls her eyes upward for a second before forcing herself to soften her grip on him.

"It's okay," she says. "It'll be okay." It's one of those, anyway. She sighs and lowers his hand to her side, not really seeming prepared to let go. She's not really a fan of walking hand-in-hand but maybe she'll just hold on for a few moments longer before preparing to return to her room.

She had meant to treat the reminder of Allison that came via the hat as matter-of-factly as she treated the reminders of her own failures that came via the grenades. It wasn't that simple though—she should know that already just by her decision to put the hat away with the doll. She had thought it would be easy to space the doll once, and look how she failed at carrying through with that.

So she stands there, holding on to his hand with her head turned to the side, away from him, and if someone didn't know her better they'd wonder if she was trying to prevent herself from crying or what. It's not that, though—the only time Tex has ever cried was when she was hashing things out with Wash at the beach party on the planet where they ended up having sex. It wasn't like her then and it wouldn't be like her now. But quiet contemplation isn't beyond her at times, and she holds that pose for a few moments longer before she draws another breath, turning her head back toward him.

"Let's go back," she says. She deliberately releases his hand and starts for her room again.

She doesn't like to be seen as weak, nor does she like to be forced into a position of weakness. It's something he's been aware of for a while, and he's wondered if their relationship will end when she's fully back on her feet -- if she'll see it as a reminder of a bad passage of time where she wasn't herself.

He understands it because he doesn't like it either. Not necessarily weakness, physical vulnerability, but being too emotionally tangled in his past. It's part of why he'd wound up here with her: he'd left the party with her rather than trying to leave it with Darcy, because there was too much meaning and too much failure there.

And he watches her as she folds her disquiet back up into herself, holding his hand and eventually letting it go.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go to my room?"

She studies him for a moment, her mouth changing shape to a wry smirk. She remembers him talking about his room, how it has a completely different feel from hers, different beds and such. And though there are practical considerations for why he might be suggesting this relating to the way she feels about that hat being in her drawer, it's true that it seems like he's wanted for her to come for a visit for some time.

"You can't resist showing me, can you?" she says. "All right. Let's do it."

"It isn't very exciting. In fact, I'll probably be moving soon."

Nonetheless, he begins to steer their path in the direction of a lift.

"Have you ever seen a movie set on a sailing ship?"

It occurs to him that maybe she's never seen a movie at all -- or not many, at least. That might set them about even, if they hadn't been almost inescapable in his world. He's seen things, but less than people would expect, because he'd have been a hopeless detective if he'd been that ignorant of the culture around him... people don't act in a vacuum.

She falls into step alongside him as they make their way. "I've never seen a movie," she says. "I know they have facilities here on board where we could watch things but I've never felt the undying need."

He pauses, contemplative, before responding to her, but continues to move towards the lift.

"Never? I think a lot of them would bore you, to be honest. I could see if the robots still have the Muppet movies, however... how do you feel about puppets?" A beat, and then he adds, in a less serious tone, "They're made for children. No, you'd be more likely to enjoy something like The Seven Samurai."

At the lift, he presses the button, and they're in luck: the doors slide open, and he steps inside.

She's come to appreciate his dry teasing and he manages to bring a chuckle out of her with that change in tone. "I don't know how well I could get into something with fake fighting in it. It'd be like a doctor watching a medical drama—I'd end up dissecting the thing." Of course, she's only making an assumption about the story, based on the title there. Maybe it's something completely different from that.

She follows him onto the lift and stands very near him as the lift begins to move. If they're going to be getting back in the mood for something more physical, it's time to tease a little.

"It isn't particularly about the fighting... and when it is, it's a style you're probably less familiar with. More than anything, I'd consider it a historical drama set in Japan: seven warriors help defend hopelessly outnumbered villagers from bandits. Still, I suppose you could watch Rashomon instead... that's significantly less focused on fighting."

He sees her standing closer and raises her a standing even closer.

"I couldn't even guess what that's about," she says, smirking as he moves closer. "Hey, there," she adds. "Run out of room?"

"It's a very small lift," he drawls. "Small spaces frighten me."

Nothing in his tone indicates that this is the case, because it isn't. And even if it were -- the door slides open. They've only gone down a level.

"I'll tell you about Rashomon later."

A pity, that. She moves away to head out the door. "Well, if only I'd known that earlier," she says. "I could have helped you out more." She's not concerned about the topic of the movie; it's more fun teasing one another for now.

"Oh? How would you have done that?" His eyes are always very wide when he plays innocent like this.

He moves in the direction of his room.

"I would have found a way," she says. She smirks over at him, keeping pace with him. It's good that's she now in this kind of condition where she can travel more of the ship without getting winded. She'd hate for him to be forced to carry her back or something because of being worn out.

"You're very resourceful."

They're at the door of his room now, and he takes note of the fact that there are no deliveries for him. He opens the door.

"After you."

The Nomo cabins are entirely different from the Mero ones. Stacked single beds are built into the wood-panel walls, and there's a long sofa with books shelved in the arms on either end.

One of the upper bunks is curtained.

She notices that he checks his mailbox. That he might have received something as well hadn't occurred to her and she's glad it proved to be empty.

She leads the way in the room and glances around. "It's so weird how different this is," she says. "Which one's yours?"

He points at the curtained upper bunk with his long index finger, his open palm and curled fingers facing her. The curtain itself isn't fully closed.

"Although I suppose you could say all of them do: there's only one roommate right now, and he's never here. But I'm sure, looking around, you can understand why I envied your egg bed. This feels like what I imagine summer camp would feel like, or boarding school... some kind of dormitory situation.

"The bathrooms on this floor aren't as nice as on Mero, I can certainly tell you that."

"Yes...I suppose if you're going to hit your head you may as well do it in style," she teases him. It quite obvious overhead crowding will be just as much of an issue here as it was in her own bed—no matter which bed out of the four they happen to use. Still, they have their reasons for being here, and Tex approaches the ladder to his bed and considers it, whether to try to climb. She's honestly not sure how well she'll do, at least unaided.

He watches her eyeing the bed and the ladder, and comments, dryly, "The sheets on the bottom bunk are clean." After a moment, he adds, "Or I could pull mattresses from two of them down to the floor and make a tent with some sheets. Safety first."

You can't injure yourself by hitting your head on the roof of a tent.

Edited 2016-10-19 05:21 (UTC)

She shoots him a smirk. "Bottom bunk will do, I think." Especially for what she has in mind. She's not winded from walking, not tired out like she would have been merely a week before, but she doesn't think she's up to the extended work of topping him in bed yet. She can't wait until she gets the chance to do so, but until then she thinks she can handle being in a sturdy hands-and-knees position.

She turns around to face him, backing in a bit toward the bottom bunk. "Come here, then."

He starts to smile a little, moving towards her.

"You're up to something."

When he reaches her, he moves to pull her into his arms to kiss her.

"Think so?" she says archly, not wasting any time in plunging her free hand into his hair. Her other hand still grips her cane but once she's sure she can rely on his weight she lets go of it, letting it fall against the bed. With that hand she grips his hip, and her kiss is eager, nibbling at his bottom lip with purposeful little nips. This clearly isn't like the last time, when he needed to work to turn her on. She's ready and waiting.

"Yes. And you're feeling better." That sounds a little more sly, insinuating. Obviously she's feeling better: the improvement isn't necessarily visible day by day, but it's there, and it's consistent.

As they kiss, he pushes her cane up against the base of the bunk with his foot, so it will be there when she needs it. She's holding his hip, and he can tell that she's using him for balance, a little. His hands go up under the back of her shirt; he meets her little nips by making his own kiss more demanding.

It hasn't felt like this between them in a while -- not since they've been back on the ship.

hello tex. long time no see. [Since the medbay adventures after the party planet]

i heard that you got little gift from isha not too long time ago and put it somewhere safe.

You did, did you

I suppose that means you know something about who it belongs to

yes i do. and id like to get back whats mine.

I don't go to the shooting range that much these days but this gives me a reason I suppose

When are you free?

great thing about with office hours: can take break pretty much whenever i want to. meet you there in fifteen minutes or so?

Absolutely. I'll see you there.

[ Tex leaves straightaway, knowing it may take that long for her to walk the entire distance with her cane. She makes sure she has the keys tucked in her pocket before she goes, and when J gets to the shooting range, she's already there, opening the door. ]

[Well, unfortunately for Tex J is late and it takes about ten minutes for her to show up to their meeting.

When she's finally present she looks everything but rushed. Despite the creeping agitation and discomfort she appears calm as usual and completely unapologetic about her lateness. Her eyes moves to the cane Tex uses to support herself and sneers a little.]

What? They weren't able to fix you up after all? I tell you that the quality in this ship has really gone down after the literal crash.

[ She snorts. ]

Adrien set the cryo unit too low, so my injuries healed up, but I also lost muscle. It's not my favorite thing to think about.

[ She flexes her arm to show that under the spindly, skinny flesh of her body, she's starting to rebuild her strong muscles. ]

I'm getting there, though.

Oh, Dr. Adrien actually fucked up? Who would've guessed. [The time he spent in Medbay alone was enough to indicate that he took the job very seriously and would be careful enough to avoid amateur-ish mistakes like these. Well, guess no one's perfect.

Hearing about the fuck up only amused J despite poor Tex suffering from it.]

That's my girl. Now, sweetie. Would you mind letting us inside so that we can be finished with this?

[ Tex raises an eyebrow at the moniker. ]

Of course, darling.

[ She unlocks the door, leads the way in, and goes to the gun cabinet to unlock it. As soon as it's accessible she gestures to the weapon. ]

Look familiar?

With Carolina's help, York has killed his shadow. It feels hollow somehow, knowing that it attacked his friends, that it caused them pain in ways other than physical. He needs to know what it's done so he contacts them each in turn, and now is Tex's. He appears on the TAB screen looking tired but triumphant.

"Hey. Mine's dead -- did you get yours or do you need help finding it?"

"They got it shortly after I broadcasted earlier," she says. Unlike York, she doesn't sound accomplished. She just sounds tired. "Washington was involved, coincidentally."

"Yeah..? Is he okay? He left my place and hasn't answered my messages.... I think mine attacked him, too, and I don't know what it said." He hesitates, then. "What did it say to you? We should probably talk about that."

"Yeah. Probably."

She doesn't know if the things the shadow had said were at all grounded in York's actual feelings toward her, but they had to have had some kind of origin, at least.

She frowns at him through the feed. It was so long ago now, it seems. She's been battling these things for days and a few comments by York's shadow seem insignificant now in many ways.

"Oh, it...it was saying how I ruined your life, caused the break-in to fail, and caused you to miss out on being with Carolina," she finally replies after finding the relevant memories in her files. "Among some other things. Personal attacks, mainly."

Yeah, he'll worry about tracking Wash down later. For now he listens to what Tex says about his shadow, eyebrows furrowing together unhappily. He knows where it came from, the feelings of regret he has surrounding the whole ordeal, but he doesn't blame Tex. Maybe part of him used to? He shakes his head.

"It was full of shit, then. I made my own choices. Besides, yours told me I was why the break in failed."

"That's not true," she says immediately. "It's not. Don't blame yourself for the way things went." Obviously she has entertained feelings of irritation for his failure to open the lock at the outset of the outing, but there was a lot more standing in their way than one lock.

"So we're agreed, then... these things were just saying whatever they could to hurt us, we don't really think that?"

He knows what it told Carolina, has already talked to her about that. He just needs to find Wash, now. But there's something about Tex's manner right now...

"Are you okay? I mean, they're dead, and we're not listening to their crap so. Did somebody get hurt?"

"Just my pride," she says. "Maybe a little."

She sighs, shaking her head.

"Ryuuzaki sat me down when I got home the night I made my confession on the network," she explains. "And I guess I agree with him now I shouldn't have done it that way. Not much I can do about that now, though."

"What exactly was his problem with it?" York asks carefully, feeling out the situation. It's not any of his business, really, but then again it doesn't seem like the sort of thing that should be Ryuuzaki's business either. How Tex chooses to disseminate information.

"He's very...cautious, about dealing with the Savrii," she explains. "And I was more worried about whoever my shadow was attacking than the fact that going public with something like that could have consequences. He's better at thinking strategically in general than I am, though. I mean, you know me, York. I come up with a plan and set it in motion just about as fast."

He takes a moment to consider that, then shrugs. "I guess I can understand that... but it's your past. And you can handle yourself if there were consequences. It doesn't seem like something to start a fight over."

Another beat.

"Maybe I'm not the best one to talk about setting plans in motion either, though."

The corner of her mouth quirks.

"Well. Maybe not." But she sighs. "You know what, though, York? When he talks about the future, I just..." She seems a little embarrassed about it, but she smiles, looking down demurely. "Well. I like it. A lot."

She remains in this position, musing to herself for a moment.

"I don't want to lose that. So...he points things out about stuff I do that he doesn't like, and I just...I have to think about it."

"I just want to make sure he's not being controlling, that it's just worry. Because it's your business. But... he has a point and if it makes him unhappy that matters too." When you're in a relationship like that everything you do technically affects the other person.

York smiles back, warmly. "You're all in with him, aren't you? I know the feeling."

She's so glad York is accepting. She's run into other people who seemed to be shaming her, or making fun of her, for her choice to remain with him. She knows Ryuuzaki is an unusual man with strange quirks, but she loves him for those things as much as anything else.

"York, honestly. I keep needing to remind myself there's no such thing as destiny because I'm so over the moon all the time with the way things have turned out between us."

As she speaks, her smile is spreading. She's usually more restrained with emoting, but she feels it's okay to show this side of things with York, of all people.

"It's like I can't get enough of him. Even touching him, like holding him in bed in the morning before getting up—I don't ever want to leave."

She looks back at the TAB.

"You're talking about Carolina, I'm guessing?"

He's accepting and he's happy for her. It doesn't matter to him that Ryuuzaki is a bit quirky, or from another world -- love is love and he just hopes that the guy feels for Tex as much as she seems to feel for him.

"I need to get to know him better, really. He just seems... private." And weird. But York can work with that.

She talks about holding her boyfriend and York remembers the night Carolina spent in his bed recently, holding his hand. How he never wanted to let go of it, either. How great it was to wake up and see her face as the first thing. Yeah. He gets it.

"...I'm talking about Carolina. Even if we're not there yet." They might never be, but he has hope. "It's like I've gotten a second chance? To reach out again. And she's... actually reaching back this time."

"Yeah. That's why I don't hate this place like a lot of people seem to."

She got a chance to find her own way in life, which she wouldn't have had otherwise. It seems similar for him.

Her smile softens a bit, merely because it had been so bright moments before.

"He is private. Very much so. But he knows we're good friends. I doubt he'd push you away, knowing that."

She pushes a hand through the front of her hair.

"I hope you and Carolina didn't have to deal with one another's shadows, during this whole mess."

"I don't hate it here. But you know my alternative."

York nods at the information about Ryuuzaki -- he'll have to try again. "You think I could talk him into dinner with just us? I'll give him the shovel talk."

His grin fades when shadows come up.

"Mine attacked her. Beat her pretty bad the first time she ran into it, but we already talked about how everything it said was bullshit... my death wasn't her fault and she. Well. She knows that, at least intellectually. Feelings sometimes take awhile to come around." He tries to recover his smile. "And hey, we're still doing breakfast dates. Clothing optional. I feel like things will be okay."

Tex has never told York the nature of her relationship—if it can be called that—to Carolina, but she has a vague sense she doesn't need to know too much about their personal life because of that connection. It actually leaves her slightly uncomfortable to know a detail that personal, despite the fact that York is basically her best friend. But she leaves that unstated, merely looking vaguely embarrassed for a moment.

"That sounds fun," she finally offers.

And as it is, York has no idea about Carolina and Tex's relationship beyond their Freelancer rivalry. Or either of their true identities. He might have kept that detail to himself, had he known, but to him he was just talking to a good friend about the woman he's in love with.

York's smile does come back, then, as he laughs a little. "It is fun. I didn't think take you for a prude, Tex. Don't worry, I keep my hands to myself."

For now he is, at least.

"...we do need to talk, though. After what I said to kill my shadow."

She snickers and raises an eyebrow. "I think I'm the last person you could accuse of being a prude." It's just a little weird talking about Carolina being the target of his interest is all.

But he changes the subject and she tilts her head with interest. "What did you say?"

"Really? You looked embarrassed for a second." He wouldn't understand why it's weird, and she probably doesn't want to elaborate. But he moves on smoothly enough.

"That I loved her. That I'd always loved her and still did, really... but that it was okay if she'd let me go. And she... said she hasn't. She still has my lighter and everything. I told her nothing had to change and she was about to say something else, but then my shadow showed up and cut her off." He looks a little sheepish, now, shrugging one shoulder. "I haven't brought it up again."

She looks wistful now. "I'm sure it'll come up again," she says. "If it's important."

She doesn't want to elaborate about why she would be embarrassed hearing about him and Carolina hanging around in a state of undress, so it works out that he's moved on.

Edited (read wrong) 2017-08-18 12:35 (UTC)

"It's important. To me, anyway, and I'm sure she knows that."

A beat.

"...I mean, she has to know that, right?"

"After a conversation like that? Yeah, I think so."

She pauses, gazing off to the side, smiling a small smile again.

"You know, I was the one who said those words first between me and Ryuuzaki. I kind of think they're trite, you know, but...I mean, how else is someone going to know?"

She reaches up and rubs her cheek.

"Though I only said it because I thought he was asleep, so..."

She chuckles weakly.

"The thing is that he's even worse about it than I am. I was thinking of leaving because he'd never said it back, and then we ended up with mind-reading powers back when everyone was getting each other's powers and he just thought it to himself randomly, that he loves me."

Her hand moves to her throat, stroking with the backs of her fingers thoughtfully.

"He couldn't look me in the face to say it afterwards. He's so private..."

The smile has faded from her face, and she's left looking contemplative.

"I don't expect her to feel it or say it back, I just want to know where we are. Kind of... get an idea of the trajectory we're on, you know?"

That's one hell of a way to find out your partner loves you back, though, and he wonders what it would be like to find out that way. Especially when you were thinking of breaking up because you'd never heard it. He doesn't think the words are so important... that if they were together that's all that would matter to him.

He draws breath to say that when he notices Tex's smile is gone.

"Hey. What's wrong?"

"I just wish I would have known without needing to read his mind, that's all." She sighs. "It shouldn't be that important, I guess. It's just if I'm going to his home world with him... Well, it is. It is that important."

York considers that, how much weight he should put on her shoulders rather than his.

"Do you think you ever could have known, without hearing the words? Because in a way... that's on you as much as it is him. When someone loves you, it's about what they do way more than what they say."

She nods slowly. "He shows it. Every time he looks at me."

A smile creeps back to the corner of her mouth.

"It's funny about being able to read his mind though. He thinks a lot of stuff he doesn't say. Stuff about me being sexy and how lucky he is."

"Then why do you think you still need to hear it?" he asks curiously. Why does it matter so much?

"...that stuff must have been nice to know."

"I don't know. Maybe it's because..."

She frowns.

"Church said it to me. Before he disappeared that first time."

She looks down, looking at her hand as she drags her finger along the seat cushion, making swirls in the upholstery.

"I don't mean to, but I compare them a lot, in my head."

York nods, thinking he understands a bit more now. He hasn't exactly had many relationships, but with important ones like this... he can imagine that you would compare the important things. The big things.

"What was he like? Church?"

Her expression doesn't change, and she continues to mess with the fabric of the couch as she speaks.

"Outwardly? He's such an asshole. His memories are messed up, you know, from the torture, so he thinks we're exes. Instead of remembering what really happened, he remembers me leaving him to enlist."

A pause.

"I've never told him any different. And I don't think he forgives me for that. Leaving him to fight the war, I mean. He's always sniping at me. Calling me a bitch. Pointing out my flaws."

She blows out a harsh sigh.

"It's all a cover-up though, you know. So he doesn't hurt like he would over it. I don't really blame him for that. We all have our ways of coping, right?"

She stops swirling the fabric of the couch and crosses her arms across her lap, looking out over the top of the TAB.

"I've never explained to him what really happened, but before the EMP, he learned more details from Washington. And he asked me questions, but...it was still kind of always there, this history between us that his false memories have conjured up."

Her lip curls wryly.

"Anyway. When he's here, all we do is fight. It's like he always knows exactly the worst thing to say that'll piss me off. And then I expect Ryuuzaki to act like that, and he always chooses the perfect thing to say to cool me off, instead. I'll be gearing up to fight and he just...defuses the whole thing with one sentence."

She glances back at the TAB's camera.

"Last night was our first fight, really, because of that. After months of being together, that was the first one."

York listens carefully, filing all the information away -- he sounds different from Carolina's version of Church, at least a bit. But not like a bad person, for being an asshole. And he's Tex's asshole. You can put up with a lot when you love someone.

But then they're talking about Ryuuzaki again, someone who's actually here that York still needs to get to know, and his expression gets a little sharper. Their first fight. York's mouth curves into a gentle smile.

"And you made it through. Good for you guys."

"Yeah. I kind of worry a little bit that he takes fighting too seriously, actually. Too..." She fumbles for words for a moment. "...personally."

She shrugs.

"I just told him fighting's not the end of the world."

"Well... it isn't. As long it isn't a constant thing and as you make up after." He grins a little. "Sometimes that's the fun part. Was it the fun part?"

She snickers. "Well, I'd been fighting shadows all day that day, so we just got in bed and I conked out. I presented that to him though, as a reason fighting isn't so bad."

There's someone rattling off the Mother of Invention's classification numbers on the network. I'm planning to make contact, I thought you'd want to know.

[ Being contacted out of the blue by Carolina? Weird. Being contacted about something like this? Well. Maybe not as weird. ]

Thanks for letting me know. I'll keep an eye on it.

[ Her update comes a bit slow, even if she doesn't hate Tex anymore it still isn't her first instinct to contact her first. ]

...it's him. It's Maine. From before he was implanted with Sigma. York is sure North is here, too.

Good thing to know. I wouldn't have held back if I thought he had Sigma with him. When is North from?

Going by the small animal living on his face it's after the Project broke up. He never grew a beard back then. And don't say too much about Sigma to him, I'd rather ease him into that news.

Yeah, good plan. Thanks for the heads-up.

You're a freelancer, you deserve to know when someone turns up.

[ Tex had always sort of had the sense that Carolina thought she didn't count when it came to being a member of the team; she doesn't show any kind of shock, though, when it comes to her response. ]

That's good of you to say.

[ Her response is slow, tossing words around as she tries to figure out the right thing to say. ]

...if you ever want to spar sometime, let me know. I won't bring any old grudges.

[ There. One olive branch awkwardly extended. ]

[ Now that does shock Tex into momentary silence. But it's only an offer to spar, not anything more significant than that. She shouldn't read too much into it. ]

Yeah. I will. I appreciate it.

Texas, you've got a couple friends popping up on the network there. Just a heads up.

[ He's not sure if they're her friends or enemies, but he figures she might like to know. Plus, hey, potential information on what was going down on Team UNSC here. ]

Yeah, seems like an epidemic all the sudden.

Augusta and Bismark. A bit too similar and close together in timing to be a fluke. They're definitely working together and Augie seems awful familiar.

[ Nihlus doesn't know it yet, but it's Maine. ]

Should I direct them to you or would you prefer I keep them in the dark for now?

Carolina's keeping me updated. I'll probably be contacting them myself soon. Thanks, though.

[ Hmm, so Carolina's likely one of them too, huh? Wow, this pack is getting big. ]

Well, good luck with the herding, Texas.

[ Carolina is more likely to take on that kind of role, but Tex appreciates the sentiment. ]

I'll certainly do my best.

Mind helping me up the stairs?

[This is an excuse to talk to her without giving anything away to suspicious parties. The more caution the better.]

[ She'd seen his leg when she'd been in his room with Lavellan. She doesn't actually assume this is a ruse, but it's best to be prepared for anything. She lets Ryuuzaki know where she's going and gets up. ]

Yeah, of course. Where are you?
Your room?

Yeah. It won't take long.

[Though he does exit the room then, waiting outside of the door. Lacking even the rudimentary prosthetic, it's more difficult than before to get around. But he does what he has to. Anything to help his people. Anything to win.]

[But now he has to acknowledge that there is a chance that again, this isn't his base and loyalty isn't required. It's circumstantial, delegated to mutual self-interest or a few common goals that don't completely align. But Tex has been blunt and reliable so far. She'll do what he needs her to do. He trusts that she'll understand.]

[ She arrives shortly thereafter, approaching him with a nod. She doesn't say anything, but waits for him to begin. ]

[Kaz takes a few strides towards her when he sees her, long loping motions with the aid of his crutch.]

Do you think that Lavellan will be able to keep it together for this?

[An earnest question. Even if he'd calmed later, Kaz doesn't know what damage had been done by the intermediaries. He's seen how Ocelot's work usually pans out.]

[ She gives him a long look, then looks away. ]

I honestly don't know. I really don't.

[He could send her the same message he sent everyone else, but he knows that's not going to cut it with her. Agent Texas has always been different from the rest of them, both in skill and in dynamic. And right now, he knows that on top of everything else, she doesn't need to get dragged into drama that doesn't necessarily involve or reflect in her.

[Instead, he decides to make it a more personal thing.]

Hey, I wanted to let you know that I'm calling a meeting for Freelancers in an hour in the library. I'm really encouraging everybody else to be there, but I know after what we went through, drama from a world you aren't gonna go home to isn't something you necessarily wanna get involved in. The problems the team are facing aren't yours to fix, and while I think you might benefit from sitting in on us talking about it, I know that you have a family and a life to sort out outside the petty crap we've been slinging around lately.

If you want to come, I just ask that it's only you. I know Ryuuzaki's a good guy, but more than half of us don't know him well enough to consider him a teammate, and things are gonna get really personal.

If you'd rather not, and I totally understand if you don't, I can give you a rundown of what happens afterward. You also have a lot on your plate, and if you'd rather just stay out of it, we'll respect that. No matter what you pick, you're our ally, and we have your back. Focus on what you need to, and I'll take care of the rest.

Let me know what you decide.

I need to think about it and talk to somebody about something. But I'll let you know what I decide.

I appreciate it. Do what you need to.

Thanks for letting me get back to you. I've decided I'll come.

Glad to hear it. It's probably gonna be heavy, but I think it's best for everybody that you're there with us.

In that case I wouldn't miss it. I'll see you there.

hey
you had the beer on kaitttos yet

Actually, no.

Why, have you?

ye
s
you should try it

I get the feeling you're right.

At least if the beer is the reason you're typing like that.

frack
i told bb -9 she couldn't spellcheck me

Maybe you should have let her if you were trying to keep that much on the down-low.

Have you tried more than one kind?

im really not
i tried one of each

Well, no wonder you're in that condition.

You need help finishing them off?

iguess it was kind of a lot
yeah sure
let me
coordinates

[and it takes a minute, but she manages to send them]

I hope these are correct.

What do they make beer from on Kaittos, do you know?

no
i dont even know what normal beer is made of
bsides alcohol

On Earth it's made with wheat and hops, but that's just one planet.

I'm not even sure you're from Earth.

i don't know what either of thosethings are
no wait i know what
what is hops
like hopping??
no im from jakku
never been to earth

Edited 2017-11-29 02:41 (UTC)

Hops is a plant. Makes the beer taste good, I guess.

I've never been to Earth either.

[ Even if she gets homesick for the place sometimes. ]

I'm almost to where you are. Is this the party district or what?

Edited 2017-11-29 02:44 (UTC)

maybe alien hops then
ive heard it's nice
lots of water
i don't think the kaitttans have a party district

Well, it's definitely something like that.

[ She approaches Rey from behind and takes a seat next to her. ]

This is the first time you had beer? You went all out.

[There are several empty glasses on the table, and Rey jumps a little when Tex sits with her. But she grins, and raises a half-full cup in greeting.]

Yeah. We don't have beer on Jakku. Someone told me I should try it since I'm twenty-one. Which I guess is how old you have to be to drink on some planets.

[ Tex smirks. ]

Legally. Legally drink.

[ However, apparently the Kaittans don't have hang-ups about IDing humans at all. Tex is soon brought a glass of her own and she gestures with the glass in Rey's direction. ]

Here's to your first beer, then.

[Honestly, legality has never meant much to Rey. There hadn't ever been a system of government or law enforcement on Jakku; everyone was their own enforcer. But she gets the gist.]

Um, third beer now. But thanks. [She laughs, raising her own glass before taking a swig.]

So, how do you like this place?

[ Tex takes a drink and pauses before shaking her head. ]

I honestly don't very much. It's mostly unfamiliarity, I think, though. If this is the only place we can go, it's better than being stuck on Avagi all the time with only nutrition blocks to eat.

[Rey nods in understanding, but immediately shakes her head after just a moment.]

I like it. There's so much... green. [A beat, then she adds:] Jakku, where I'm from. It's a desert. And nutrition blocks are better than portions. More flavor, if you can believe it.

[ She makes a small sound of understanding and puts down her glass. ]

I bet the Greenery is something else to you, then.

I can't imagine thinking the nutrition blocks are good though. Wow, portions must suck.

They're gone

[ A message this short and cryptic could never bode well. Especially considering who it's coming from. ]

Who?

Everyone in the suite. Maine, North, South. Alpha.

[ She doesn't know how to respond to that, so she doesn't for a while. She figures she ought to at least acknowledge it, though. ]

Okay.

York didn't take it well.

No, I don't imagine. I'll stop in and see him.

Are you staying put, or moving?

I haven't decided. York said I should move in with him and Carolina. But I don't know.

What don't you know? He wants you with him.

We aren't exactly best friends.

I think it's probably a good idea to stick together.

I can't make you do anything, though, Washington.

Thanks for letting me know about this, though.

We were sticking together.

And then everyone else vanished.

You deserve to know.

Listen, you can't think like that. I blamed Church for disappearing before, and it just tore me up. No one gets to choose when they come here and when they go. It just is what it is.

People leave often enough though and it's easy to figure out the common denominator.

It's okay anyway. I'm fine. I never intended to room with them anyway.

All right. Just don't be stupid now that they're gone.

No more stupid than I usually am.

That's comforting.

I try my best.

It's been three centicycles since the threat appeared. Ten user-days hunting and searching, guarding his allies and rushing to their side. And a little less than that since Texas reached out to coordinate. Calling on security, or whoever would stand in. Strategizing—successfully—for how to trap a threat they couldn't kill.

Rinzler's role was in pursuit. Targeting the threat where it surfaced, and driving it in the direction required for containment in the end. The specific mechanisms of their box are an [unknown], and with the danger fully quarantined, he doesn't have a purpose here. Still, he lingers as the other combatants disperse, helmet turned toward the container.

And a little less directly, on the user taking charge of it.

Tex is gathering the box from those who constructed it, offering thank-yous as appropriate, and preparing to stash the box away. She doesn't really know what can be done with it other than that—she doesn't relish having a box with a malicious entity in it stored in her room, but destroying it isn't an option. Not when they don't know of any way to destroy the spirit or whatever it is inside. She doesn't want to release it again by trying to kill it.

When she realizes Rinzler is waiting to speak to her, helmet tilted in that familiar questioning manner, she pauses, then approaches him. They might have their differences, but she can still read his body language. She thinks, anyway.

"You asking what I'm going to do with it?" she says. "Because—" She glances to see if they're being eavesdropped on. They aren't. "—I honestly don't know."

Tex can still read his body language. Rinzler had been waiting—and watching, and trying to calculate how (or if) he should approach. Differences was an understatement, especially of late, and Tex will see the tension settle through hunched shoulders as she approaches. It doesn't recede at her pronouncement, but Rinzler does offer a slightly stilted nod.

"Recommend: export."

"Mm," she mutters, immediately assessing the advice and rejecting it. "No; someone might find it and open it." She looks at it for a moment. "I can't even bury it in the Greenery or anything like that. It needs to be held by someone who knows what it is and that it can't be opened."

She has noticed Rinzler's body language is still tense. She looks back at him. "I wouldn't even feel right launching it into space." Even though the odds of it being found there are exceedingly slim.

The tension certainly isn't receding at that response. Rinzler's had this argument more than once before with users assuming administrative roles. Texas might not have charge of this whole system, and Rinzler might not be self-assigned to keep it safe. But he still doesn't want another Ploiatos.

The enforcer's mask shakes slightly. "Avagi system prone to random imports, exports."

Sound rattles out in the gap, voice lagging as he works to formalize the string. Keep it direct. Clear. It's harder than it used to be.

"No guarantee that functions guarding quarantine won't leave. Or that new imports won't open it.

"Better to remove threat."

"Yeah," she says, coming to a point of agreement. She looks at the box again. "If it meant a space launch. Not ejecting it onto the planet."

She looks at him. She's amazed he's willing to talk this much to her; she's never heard him speak this much before. He never used to speak at all, and since he started, he's mostly been aggravated with her as some kind of traitor to AI-kind, or something. She doesn't say anything about it, though, just looks back at him.

"If I knew we had a way of launching something into space, I wouldn't be too worried. Maybe the portals will open up again soon, and that place will have a way of doing it."

Considering the only planet they've found so far concluded their stay with forced edits, Rinzler has very little qualms about releasing the virus there. But the compromise is reasonable enough, and more than he'd expected given her rejection before. The enforcer's helmet ducks.

"Can search station schematics for working airlocks."

In case the portals don't open.

"It would still depend on having a method of launching it," she says, musing. "I'd be glad to have your help." She tilts her head a little. "If that's what you meant."

There's a slight slant of the mask. Launching sounds like an engineering problem, and while Rinzler's had some training, there are better experts in-system for that. He'd been offering to scout for access. But if it gets the job done...

He nods.

"Can assist."

She nods, feeling pleased, if a bit confused.

"All right, good," she says. She turns as if to go, then turns back.

"I guess it's just because I'm part of the system as a whole, though, huh?"

Her head tilts slightly; it seems she's studying him, trying to account for why he is offering his help.

When she turns back, Rinzler's still watching. He hesitates a little at the question before tilting his own helmet in return.

"Clarify?"

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