xistentia | 01 🍆 [catch-all] with a graveyard tan carrying a cross;

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01 🍆 [catch-all] with a graveyard tan carrying a cross;

Characters: Joseph Kavinsky & whoever wants in! Currently just a beleaugered grandmother!
Summary: Trolls gonna troll, even after the apocalypse— especially after the apocalypse. Will write starters in comments, the entry is empty. Feel free to PP or PM me if you want something particular.
Date(s): Catch-all for the foreseeable future
Warnings/Notes: Character carries a general warning for offensive language (racist, homophobic, sexist language, rude remarks about consent), as well as mental illness and drug use.

D: like i said

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[kavinsky is not a religious person. ordinarily, the word temple would turn him off any kind of visitation, other than to kick stones, angst about exes, make a passionate new fuckbuddy, accidentally a powerswap— but keeping that in mind, the remarkable adventures he had because of the jade temple, he's been open-minded. besides, rumor reassures no stupid sermons or religion is attached.

why the fuck not?

so he rolls into the telexistence temple, dog daemon at his side. flashlight in hand. the chill inside the temple's gloomy stones immediately lights his skin with goosebumps, but he is too manly to have thought to bring a jacket, so he tolerates it with classic masculine stoicity, such as,] The fuck is the point of this psuedo Aztec bullshit. And where's the Goddamn thermostat, Jesus, I could put somebody's eye out with my nipples right now. [(it's not true; he has notoriously tiny nipples.) kavinsky finds a glassy, black interface and slaps it with his hand, causing a brief flutter of hologram light— and otherwise, nothing.

the husky beside him mutters. raising her head to sniff the stone interface in question.] Your current options are the Amenity Request function and the Chronological Cartographer.

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Grandmas are on Facebook, [kavinsky tells the husky, who rotates her ears and eyes him doubtfully.] Pass it on. Filter your posts. Don't post NSFW unless you want old lady fap. [teasing, but that's nothing new. he motions at axel anyway, skinny tattooed hand winking rapid and white in the gloom. yes please to give me your sweater. i will tolerate looking like a grandmother if it means protecting myself from summarily exploding into porcupine levels of gooseflesh.

and then assuming he actually acquires it, he puts it on, flattening the fabric down his little arms and waist, muttering that at least it doesn't smell like lavender. kavinsky does often push a given joke too far. but fortunately, he has a rather poor attention span. and the moment his head pops out of the collar, he's running off toward said timeline machine.]

Your bird sounds like a homosexual, [is what he ends with, helpfully and attractively. at this stage it is probably hard for axel to tell whether or not the family values have passed down the generations properly, but kavinsky does stop before he gets too far. looks back, like a child, checking to make sure he's being followed.]

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[kavinsky hunts across the screen with his eyes. despite how dark his irises are, there is something bright, almost manic about his stare as he looks, greedy for information. for answers. hot off the fucking apocalypse, death and chaos the last thing he remembers of that world and its quiet cobblestones and fat pigeons. the first and only place where he'd ever had any real sense of security, and saw it fucking shattered.

he stares at the black stone. the lines of light and letters weaving through the air above it, projected out to illustrate. a tranquil shade of green in the cool dark.

and all of a sudden, he feels

angry. heat swamping up under his shirt, flooding his fucking skull like lava dumped itself into his veins.] FUCK! [by now, axel expects his grandson to be real extra, but this is probably more extra than before. a different kind of extra. it is, frankly, a ronan sort of extra. kavinsky abruptly kicks the stone down below, hard enough it has to hurt. punches the screen the next instant-- hard enough that the copper scent of blood hits the air. split knuckles.] Stupid fuck cunting piece of shit tech--

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Stupid cunting piece of— [kavinsky fights like a cat. he actually has fingernails now that he quit cocaine and maybe it stings a bit, the narrow rims slicing at the skin thin of axel's wrists, the backs of his hands. he kicks-- but not at the vampire. just the interface, which turns out to be as harmless as the banging of his fists had been. more harmless, even. no injury this time-- the rubber of his soles thumping uselessly off black stone.] --Goddamnit—

[but he's out of range in a second. out of range to damage himself, mostly. axel's concerns are reasonable based on every technology he's ever seen outside of this place, but a quick glance is enough to reassure that the timeline machine suffered no harm. the hologram still wafts gently in the air, sending a soft glow against the walls. kavinsky strains pointlessly against axel's grip for two more seconds

and then promptly deflates. like if someone would've soaked the cat.]

And now you're the cunt, [he says, acidly. twisting his head back to level a stare at Axel that doesn't burn quite as hot as one might expect, but kavinsky's rage was never a sanguine thing.]

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[kavinsky walks his feet to a stop under an archway. his narrow chest is still going up and down, chagrined breaths through gritted teeth. huge pupils and sweat a sheen on his forehead. remember back when you had biological functions and sweated sometimes, axel? it wasn't

actually that great a time. the scent of kavinsky's blood warms the air. sharp, tinny. the injury is too minor to even consider a hospital facility, but it hurts— and it hurts well, burning hotly in his hand, making kavinsky think about cutting the fucking thing off at the wrist, for mere escalation's sake. not that you have places to escalate once the apocalypse itself has happened.

he pulls his arms free of the vampire. yanks his shirt straight. hackling at nothing. at his heel, moonshine is craning her head up at them anxiously.]

Fuck it, grandma. If I did kill my motherfucking timeline, probably some fucking neon green portal would open up, swallow me, and shit me out in fucking Disney World. [he leans and spits at the corner of the floor.] Curiouser and fucking curiouser. Live without your sunlight, love without your heartbeat. Shit, grams. What's the point?

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[the boy cuts an irritable stare at his """grandmother""" at that.] The alternative is fucking inevitable, [he says, but it isn't an actual argument, just pointing out distractor facts, the way that spaceships on tv sometimes tactically evacuate garbage to distract pursuers. he shakes his head, walking past his dog-- almost walking on her— to get over to another big slab of technology nearby.

at least he only sits on this one, instead of trying something yet more unimaginable and pointless. breaking his feet on it with infantile kicks, maybe. he crosses his arms, his bloodied knuckles tucking up under his arms in a way that's neither particularly hygienic nor especially dangerous to his health. his eyes cut across axel's face, studying the vampire's for a long moment. for even the faintest hint of insincerity. (or the dilated pupils of predatory interest, either way.)

his hands are pulsing like a drum.]

Are you? [he asks suddenly.] That what your terrified face looks like, Johnson?

[last names. that's how you know kavinsky is in edgelord mode. he is definitely not the subtlest young man that axel has ever met.]

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[the silence is heavy and cold for a long, long moment. kavinsky is uncharacteristically still in the midst of it, standing there, eyes glowering and skinny shoulders hunched.]

Dead is inevitable, g-maw, [kavinsky says. but it's without heat this time or any kind of flailing aggression misdirected at inanimate objects. it's a factual sentence, or near enough. but simply saying it, putting it up on the wall next to what axel had just stated about here-and-now-- maybe that makes it a less sensational, a little less concrete as a risk and terror. death was always inevitable. remembering that it exists doesn't make it more likely to happen and

as axel says, it isn't particularly likely to happen here. kavinsky stares at nothing for a moment. then it occurs to him again that his knuckles hurt. he scowls suddenly (and closely attuned, his dog raises her ears, though she wasn't looking at him; she had been studying axel's knees with detached interest).]

I thought you were all about the rolling in pointless shit over low-probability scenarios. What gives? And, [he shakes his hands out, twisting them up to look at his bloodied knuckles.] You know how to run those hospital machines?

BE STRONGER, [kavinsky shouts across the couch, up at the young woman on the other end.] GOOD LORD, WOMAN. [mostly he should be stronger, probably? but the fact is, their new couch is a close fit for the doorway— despite the fact that it's a fairly large doorway. the couch itself is bloody enormous, thanks to kavinsky's size matters perspective on furniture, male anatomy, and everything else. it needs to be tipped to an angle to get in, and his hands are sweaty.

his dog daemon, moonshined, is trying to help. she has one furry shoulder braced up underneath, her head down, small doggy grunts of effort puffing out of her black nose. it makes kavinsky almost like her. he'd like her, if it weren't for the fact that he thinks she might be an electronic impostor wearing his beloved pooch's pelt like a coat. but maybe even skynet has its uses. if there's any time you can appreciate somebody's assistance, it's going to be moving day.]

Just jam it open with your-- Pokemon, or something, [he says. as if anybody in the history of ever has their pokemon trained to facilitate shifting scavenged furniture in an post-apocalyptic world.]

She's not a doorstop [Amanda huffs, because actually moving her gaze to her Eevee would shift her attention enough to be risky] And I'd love to see you doing this well after twenty years of atrophied muscles.

[there's a weird mixture of annoyance and amusement when she says that. Which is pretty much par for the course with their relationship.

She hears the small squeak and the sound of soft paws skittering across the floor behind her just before she starts attempting to move back again, which is one worry down. Heddy might be far more foolhardy than she is, but at least the little pokemon has some self-preservation instinct.

She huffs, this time definitely in annoyance] Was it really necessary to track down something this big? [she is fully aware of what she may be opening herself up to with that comment, and she has absolutely stopped caring]

[kavinsky and the husky lurch a bit, in unison. the right-hand corner of the couch manages to hump past the doorframe. but then the furniture dips, and the nearmost leg promptly gets wedged in the jamb. kavinsky swears colorfully. he is maybe regretting not doing as his mother asked, he should have been better at the gym, he should have put on more muscle. should haves! hindsight! this is what all of our parents are trying to protect us from.

although most of our mothers are not hundreds-years-old vampires who could actually pick up this couch with one hand.]

Number-- one. Size matters. Number two, the vagina is technically capable of expanding to accommodate an average of like, twelve inches of penetrative— content, [kavinsky braces, and lifts the back end again.] So be a feminist, man.

[it is utter nonsense. but it's the kind of nonsense you probably shouldn't start laughing at right now because otherwise the couch will fall and crush, minimally, a dog daemon. possibly also two humans. could tear a hole in the bottom of the world and they'll fall out into the beyond, pre-empting the apocalypse.]

Edited (subject header) 2017-06-24 17:12 (UTC)

[luckily for the state of the various body parts of the animals and humans present, Amanda doesn't start laughing. Maybe back in Eudio she would have. But the emotional barriers she'd been keeping in place there have been slowly wearing away now, because of--well, why they're here. She is still torn on how exactly to react, which isn't unusual with him.

What is unusual, at least for the person she's tried to be for most of her adult life, is the impulse to properly snap at him. She tries to hold it back with gritted teeth and using the effort of trying to adjust her end of the couch to focus her slowly burning temper. Everyone here has a reason to be upset in some way, but none of them should take it out on each other if they can help it.

At some point, she'll analyze how much she's repressing and how that is bound to end horribly sooner rather than later. Now is really not that time. So, instead of laughing or giving into the building temptation to yell at him or any number of things, she just lets out a long hiss through her teeth and makes an effort to turn her portion of the couch a bit more so it will hopefully, finally, pop through the doorway with not that much more work on Kavnisky's end]

You...are incredibly luckily I was too busy losing myself in math to do the same in feminist theory, or I would probably be giving you a lecture you wouldn't give a damn about right now. [she says, not really pleasantly, but not exactly snapping either. Mostly because she's too winded for that]

[kavinsky is more winded than he would like to admit also, otherwise there would be at least a couple of snide comebacks for that. it's a good thing also, that amanda is a mathematical genius and also very well in command of her muscles, for a young woman who was indeed a quadriplegic until just recently. her mental calculations and last minute balance shift serve them well.

the couch humps through the doorway. the whole couch. finally.]

Halle-fucking-llujah! [kavinsky obviously forgets his mood and shortness of breath. he lurches into their house, almost trips over the slight rise in the floor that's meant to keep the water out when it rains. almost crushes his daemon. but then he manages to stumble-skitter-slither forward a few more feet, getting his knees around the husky. and he says,] Down--down, [and when they put it down, he then throws his skinny arms in the air.] MARY'S SWEET VIRGIN VAGINA, [he pronounces to the ceiling, probably scaring residual squirrels out of the sleek modern rafters.] We fucking did it, Perry!

[all sins of the past ten minutes are forgiven. if allowed, he will proceed to dance her around the living room.]

[despite her own irritation and how winded she is, Amanda can't help laughing loudly herself at his very characteristic proclamation. Maybe this is why she agreed to live with him, since religion was never a big part of her life his colorful turns of phrase make her laugh in a wholly different way than her sort of-kind of boyfriend does] Yeah, we did. And with no casualties to boot. All in all, I'd call this a complete success.

Of course, some of her laughter these days is probably restrained hysterics attempting to break through.. But she's not going to let that happen just yet, she's going to enjoy how positively ludicrous her roommate is. And, okay, she's proud of this very mundane accomplishment. So, once everything's safely in place and not going to fall over on her or any of the animals, she doesn't find an excuse to go hide with numbers and quiet like she might have not that long ago but actually lets this absolutely ridiculous young man grab her for whatever 'celebratory' dance he feels the need for, even if she might seem like a bit of a very confused ragdoll for the majority of it. The thought is nice. She thinks.]

All right. Okay, okay. [effusive and crazy as he is, kavinsky is as susceptible to muscular fatigue as anyone. actually, technically, he's more susceptible than most because he's built like a string bean— he just has enough hyperactive, manic, troubled young man energy to keep him going long after he should have collapsed in pain. he just tends to collapse in even more pain, at a later time than most would.

he flings himself down on the couch now. his daemon pads over, wagging her tail, looking at him with uncertainty if he's going to be nice or not. he ignores her, so she crawls up on the cushion next to him, curling her big furry body up next to his leg.] Holy fucking God.

Thank her holy cunt the AC is working. [he flaps his hand at himself. then immediately reaches to grab the remote control that was lying on the floor, points it at the gigantic plasma tv he'd already dreamt for them, though it's merely sitting on the floor in absence of supporting furniture. he hits the power button and the screen goes on. he makes big eyes at her.] Can you get me water?

[Amanda was feeling the exhaustion in her muscles while they were moving the couch, bt mostly out of sheer stubbornness not to be weak she doesn't collapse similarly, lalthough she does lean against the doorway for a moment. She glances up when the gray parrot shape of her daemon settles on her shoulder, smirking a little. Even recognizing that it's not properly alive if her understanding of it is is right, she likes it. Not the same way she likes her Eevee, but it's an interesting little being, and she likes having it around. She instinctively curls her hand up to stroke against its head.

Her brow quirks at Kavinsky, rolling her eyes a bit]

You know, you're lucky I actually think the things some of my male coworkers said when they thought I couldn't hear were far and away worse than that word. I don't think that's something anyone should find preferable to be called. That might explain why I somehow find you more than tolerable.

[but it would have at least meant they'd seen her as a woman, rather than a brain in a chair. She's not going to brood on that now, for way too many reasons.

She blinks at his expression and the request. It's weirdly novel, to have someone asking her to do something for them. However, novel didn't necessarily mean nice. She shakes her head, rolling her eyes a bit as she turns]

I wonder what you would have done if I'd gone back home and been the way I used to be when I showed up here.

[she says it lightly, still being nice, focusing on motion--walking, getting a glass to stay in her hand, the liquid cooling the class and the few drops that fall directly onto her hand--instead of emotion. Even if she never swallowed a bit of psychology thanks to the patronizing counselors she'd gone to as a child, she knew some of her emotions were starting to be displaced since he was there and an easy target, and annoyance was easier than...things she wasn't going to think about. She doesn't like doing it though, when he hasn't totally earned it. At least not yet.

She does huff a little as she walked back passes him the glass, but she does manage to put a smile in her voice] Here.

[And then she moves back, not looking at him as her gaze falls the chess game she's been playing against herself whenever she passes the board. Or whenever she needs to think and not feel. She's been avoiding doing it in front of him much to avoid the 'playing with yourself' jokes as much as possible but she doesn't care at the moment. Her fingers are shaking a little as she picks up the white knight, but her grasp gets firmer as she focuses on the board instead of anything else]

[kavinsky may be the worst roommate in the entire multiverse, but he's not the worst in every possible bad roommate domain. for example, his hygiene habits have yet to begin a roach infestation anywhere he's lived, so there's that. additionally, he actually says,] Thanks, babe, [which is technically kind of sort of polite even if it's also a little demeaning and has the quality of a bratty child to it, kavinsky peeking at her, beaming as she walks away. sucking down some water from the cup, looking at the tv. pretending to look at the tv.

not actually looking at the tv.

he is also a surprisingly keen observer of human behavior. mind you, this is definitely not a power he typically uses for good. however, there's nothing super immediately!! destructive about it when he studies her hands on the chessboard. the intent look on her face, downturned over the game. he almost makes a playing with yourself joke.] If you got Parkinson's, they probably got a sci-fi machine for that, [he says.] If not, maybe you oughtta be drinking something too. Stronger than this. [or she could play chess. he stares blankly at the knight in his new square.]

[a lifetime of needing to be watched for minute changes in her body that could be early signs of something catastrophic, not to mention the less-than-casual staring of coworkers and strangers alike, mean that Amanda actually doesn't bristle under the weight of his gaze. For a second, she's just staring at the board. It's cliche, but it's something that she can always control. It doesn't hold the answers she wants, but it has logic that she knows inside and out. It's a tiny war, and she'll win no matter which king is cornered, but it will still be a victory.

She does smirk at his comment, but doesn't let herself look up from the board] I'm just tired. Which I should have expected but there's a difference between knowing you'll be worn out after moving a large couch and actually experiencing it.

[her fingers do waver more than usual over the board, though, but it's not in consideration of her next move. She makes a noise that could be laughter, but it doesn't seem very happy, and she shakes her head as she picks up a black bishop, wrapping her fingers around it tightly, now a little more concerned she'll drop it]

And I just realized I didn't challenge Nick to a game when I was up there. [her voice is small, more to the board than her roommate] I thought he said something about making a chess set, but I didn't take him up on it. Which on the scale of chances I've passed up is pretty small. But it had already been years since the last time we played. I should have.

[but she didn't, because there was supposed to be another chance. Something else was supposed to break in that beautiful rusted ship and she was supposed to go back with more courage to romance him over a game or something else out of a cheesy romance movie

She sets the bishop down with thud that is probably louder in her mind than in reality before turning away from the board, moving with any real thought to the opposite end of the couch, deciding that sitting before her legs give out is a good idea, and while she'd like to just hide behind a closed door with her tablet now, that would be far too obvious. So she settles for sitting and letting her Eevee hop up on her lap]

[kavinsky doesn't say anything for a long moment, staying where he's sprawled. he watches her move some inscrutable pieces around, listens to her talk, her voice rather calm despite the content of them which is true even though her fingers and hands don't wobble, either.

and then he twitches his mouth into a thoughtful frown.] Sure, [he says.] Maybe. But I think maybe 'tired' doesn't exactly cover all that shit you talked about just now.

Did you tell me who 'Nick' was at some point? [he doesn't remember if she'd named names, when he had assumed her interested in some nebbish young bespectacled metro thing, long ago. in an act of herculean heroism, he starts to move himself off the couch. limb over limb. he's tired and sore, but fortunately, toxic masculinity is going to work in amanda's (dubious) favor this once; he stubbornly stumps off into the kitchen. in a couple of minutes, there's the clink of more glasses and bottles knocking into one another, tinny under the noise from the television. some mindless music video from kavinsky's era, pounding bass, bikinis.]

Did the shit with playing chess on his washboard nerd abs come up back in Eudio too?

[Amanda's mouth twitches with what could as easily be a grimace as it could be a smile, she's honestly torn as to what's appropriate and what she should show.]

No, it really doesn't, as much as I wish it did.

[she sighs, tipping her head against the back of the couch and closing her eyes] I mentioned him. I didn't talk about him much because….I don't know. Because I sound pathetic when I talk about him? He was the coworker I kissed when I was using another woman's body.

[which was why she hadn't told anyone besides Kavnisky and Arthur about him, given the extremely gray area that had fallen into.

She actually barks a laugh at the washboard abs comment] He was--is probably about twenty years my senior, and a caffeine, nicotine addicted Glaswegian to boot. At any rate, I'm pretty sure I told you he was the only person I thought about when I masturbated, but not much else.

[the fact the word comes easier now than it did in Eudio should be strange. Maybe it's just because now her hangups just don't seem to matter, in the face of the possibility Nick might be--

She cuts that thought off before it can go to its logical conclusion, listening to Kavinsky knocking around. It's a nice distraction, which is disturbing in its own right.]

He is the reason I didn't...do much in Eudio, in that particular sphere. And a good part of why I got very drunk on my birthday. The plan was supposed to be that when I left I'd be able to tell him there was at least one less barrier to us being….whatever I wanted us to be. I don't even really know what I thought that was going to be now. [she'd never let herself go too far in those fantasies, scared of getting lost in them. But now they might be all she'll ever get]

['in that particular sphere,' kavinsky almost parrots her from the kitchen. 'one less barrier.' her words seem to be a setup for all the horrifying remarks he could make, about her genitalia and speculation as to its condition, her hymen, the question of atrophy, all the usual awful ableist things. instead

he carries out tumblers of some boozy concoction, fizzy with soda and very strong. two of them. one heavy glass goes right to amanda, stuck into her shoulder with enough force to send the ice cubes rattling around.

in a moment, he's thumping back down to sit beside her, leaning back into the cushions. staring at the tv. pretending to be more interested in titties than her story, even though that isn't true, not even a little.] Are you fucked up he died, or are you fucked up you didn't get to make out with him for realsies even if he is? Or-- [he takes a mouthful of fizzy booze, slides his ass down on the couch.] Or, maybe you're just thinking about him because it's a good distraction. But it ain't really about him. Sometimes I got that way about guys whose dick I wanted to sit on.

[he twists his too-big lips into a cheerful leer, folding his fingers into a shocker for a moment. maximum empathy. maximum understanding.]

[maybe when they first met she would have been shocked into proper outrage. Maybe if things were different here she would be. As it is, all of it's just exhausting. So while she does open her eyes and turn to him, the annoyance doesn't rise to the point of anger. She does sigh loudly and pinch the bridge of her nose though]

How about 'all of the above'? [her voice is a little strained, and she doesn't look as he settles back onto the touch] He was-- [there's a tense silence; being a scientist and an optimist aren't entirely exclusive things, but they're close enough at times like this. She draws in a breath, the only acknowledgement she's slipping into past tense]--probably my best friend. before I fell for him. I was one of the only people who continued to associate with him outside of what was absolutely needed for work when his wife died and he--became even more of a standoffish bastard than he already was. [she knows what Nick is. And that's the problem. She has seen him at what's probably his absolute worst, and somehow she fell in love while he was pulling away from everyone. She's still really not sure how that happened. That seems to be a running theme in her life, getting close to people without quite knowing how she got there.

Her mouth twitches a little and she tips her head so it's not entirely against the back of the couch, but she's still not quite looking at Kavinsky. She might have told Eli this, but she hadn't met his eyes either and things had been a lot simpler then]

He called me Little Miss Brilliant. I'm still not sure where your nicknames fall in comparison. [she had done everything she could to avoid admitting that in Eudio, but now...well, it's something small of what Nick was in her world that wasn't subjective feelings. It's something he said, even if it was just a was just an acknowledgement that he didn't see her as a simpleton like he did the other ninety-nine percent of the population] He never seemed to see the chair. I used to wish I'd met him before his wife did. And then I'd hate myself for a little while for thinking that.

Of course he's not the only person I'm...worried about. The last thing I said to my parents was 'talk to you next week'. [she's quiet for another long moment, stroking her Eevee's fur almost thoughtfully--she hadn't let that quite sink in either, until now] I didn't...know how to even start the conversation about going to Eudio. So I didn't. It didn't seem to matter, if it worked out. And I could never say much about work, so they'd stopped asking questions when it seemed like I wasn't telling them something a long time ago. [it would have started discussions she had tried to tell herself she was done having years before about blame and choices and sacrifices. She'd been putting off hashing out the details of what would happen when she went home, what exactly she'd remember, for that exact reason. And now it didn't matter

She swallows hard, making a small huffing sound that might be an attempt at laughter, shaking her head]

So yeah. It's the fact I feel cheated out of something I maybe never would have had because there was another person involved, and that person and everyone I cared about might be gone. And I'm not good at thinking about those things because I couldn't let myself be for a long time. So. Thinking about the fact I wish we hadn't gotten interrupted that night and that I'd been able to talk him into doing more...it's easier. Missing and wanting and not being able to have him is awful, but it's something I'm used to feeling and I can stay up all night thinking about it without actually crying. I've sort of become an expert at it.

[her fingers curl, without thinking, tightening in her Eevee's fur enough to make Heddy squeak. Her eyes do widen, then, and she releases her hand numbly]

[accidentally taking out your feelings on something that cries out in pain in response. that sounds familiar. kavinsky glances at the eevee for a moment, his lip curling, going still. relaxing again, out of a sneer. but he just drinks his drink instead of answering immediately, allowing her time to talk, to think, to bridge the gaps between those two activities with uneven silences and gestures involving animals.]

You know, cheated makes it sound like some part of your li'l head fucked up and started thinking there was a promise in there. [he leans forward, stoops down. reaches with his free hand to start peeling off his shoes, make himself comfortable on this hard-won couch. thump, thump. soon they will have an army of roombas to take care of the floor, no worries on hygiene. (kavinsky's never quite worried enough about hygiene.)] Which was a'ight in Eudio, but shit, woman. It sounds like you did fuck for negotiation there too.

I knew a girl who asked to get her prince's hand in fucking marriage when she went home. You made a bad deal, sweetheart. When we get back there, you gotta get that shit sorted. If you know what you want, you gotta go after it. You get me? Only promises you can make are the ones you fucking owe yourself. [he jabs her in the leg with his forefinger. it's cold, a little, from the icy glass.]

Get your ovaries out.

[Amanda snorts softly, nodding as her hands occupy themselves with smoothing Heddy's fur in silent apology. Thankfully, Heddy was pretty resilient and wasn't easily chased away by a little tug.]

Oh, it definitely did. I would absolutely love to say I thought out every last detail, but he's always had a way of making me pretty much the most illogical person. [she sighs, realizing then that she's still wearing her shoes as well, and clumsily toeing them off]

I told myself it wouldn't be fair to ask to be with him because I'd be taking him away from the ship and even if it was a rustbucket it was also something he'd been looking for for years. I guess I was probably scared if I actually asked for more than…[she waves at herself] That it wouldn't live up to everything I've built up in my head. When you've been fantasizing about someone for the better part of a decade..I've probably made him something he can never be. And maybe none of that's actually true, maybe he would be glad to be back in a place with coffee and cigarettes and we'd be perfectly happy and maybe...maybe we wouldn't and I'd be angry that only half my wish came true. So, I just asked for half of it to start with.

[she turns to him, actually smirking a little] You know, you would have been the last person I would have expected to even listen to this not that long ago, much less actually care about the end result.

[wow why are they suddenly talking about him? kavinsky doesn't like it. he's very selective about his limelight, about being seen in a certain way.] Man shut up, [he says.] I'm making fun of you and drinking liquor. That is one hundred fucking percent in character. [but he knows that even his playful defensiveness is a concession he doesn't make for most people. he wouldn't have made that concession at all, two years ago.

he lets people in, bit by bit. he's let amanda in. enough to be an actual person around her, sometimes.]

I guess that's kind of how I built up my incentive too. Kind of. I mean I asked for some big shit. A whole new life-- but it was just about me. Nobody else. But for me it wasn't about doing it halfway. For me, I figured if my incentive depended on somebody else, it'd be more fucking disappointing. People are assholes, Perry. Especially when you're the asshole. [kavinsky shrugs his skinny shoulders, glancing down at his drink.] Hey. Kinda related. How do you feel about vampires?

[she chuckles, both at him and the Eevee deciding to get back at her by putting its forepaws on her shoulder and making it a little more of a challenge to sit comfortably. ] Sure, of course.

[that seeming non-sequitur makes her blink, but then she shrugs] Neutral, I suppose? I think the only interaction I really had with any in Eudio was when we first met when--[she'd actually almost forgotten that thanks to the temple, he'd been changed then too. Because she hadn't known him as any different, and because honestly she had bigger concerns at the time then his diet at that time

But now--]

Was that something you wanted to make permanent? [there's not any judgement there, just honest curiosity. It's not like she didn't dream about being something besides human when she was younger, given the circumstances. But when she'd started working with actual alien technology, that had seemed both childish and honestly a lot less impressive than it used to]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

01 🍆 [catch-all] with a graveyard tan carrying a cross;

closed to gmaw;

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cw c-word

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closed to amanda;

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cw sexual vulgarity

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tw ableism

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