ximilian: (Default)
ximilia mods ([personal profile] ximilian) wrote in [community profile] ximilialog2023-06-01 06:40 pm

MISSION: THE AI AND THE COMMANDER

M I S S I O N   1 4 . 0

SOMEWHENPRESENT DAYFYI

// SOMEWHEN  


The hum of the teleportation platform is familiar, filling your ears as the bright light dissipates enough to safely open your eyes. You feel something solid beneath your feet, and the lack of scent from the asphalt and dirt in Nuhiri and Deumia marks a departure from anything resembling a planet, the space around you giving you no reason to think anything of it. You're on the Ximilia once again — finally. Another mission successfully accomplished, for whatever other hardships you and the rest of the team have endured. Hot food and hot showers await, and Newt will surely be scurrying off to prepare for the team’s usual post-mission movie night.

You’re back and you can’t wait for Viveca to greet you, and for Degar to take the orb away, back to the North Wing to join the other ones.

Except … the station’s walls appear to be peeling, and some of the equipment looks a little older and unpolished. There’s even a layer of space-dust on one of the control boards. And most importantly: no one is here to greet you. As you turn and look to your fellow crewmates in confusion, even now some of you might start to wonder at the change of routine. Ivy, who had just been handling the orb, will be empty-handed, but surely there’s nothing to worry about. The station is peaceful and still. Nothing feels amiss … yet. And then:

// 0-L1V-14
Oh, hello. You are not the team I know. Yet you are here for the orb … Good.

The sound of 0-L1V-14 — or 'Olivia' as many have come to call her — voice springs to life around you. She almost seems to sound confused for a moment, clearly recalibrating her systems for this strange occurrence, before the gentle tenor of her voice regains its composure and she recalls her mission directive. The lights in the teleportation platform seem to glow just a little brighter, as though the arrival of the crew has buoyed the AI's spirits.

// 0-L1V-14
I've located one within the station, but it seems to have fractured. The air around them appears to have some sort of temporal disturbance that I can't quite pin down. Be cautious, but bring them to me before anything happens.

Well? You heard the AI. Best to start looking.


1.0   The first thing you might think to do is return to the sleeping quarters, either to clean up and change into another set of clothes; or to take a much-deserved nap; or maybe you just need a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts. The doors to the sleeping quarters seem to stick for a moment, which isn’t worrying in and of itself, but as the doors slide open you realize that you’re looking into a dark and empty carved out space that resembles a place for storage more than anything else. The walls and doors that used to make up your individual rooms are absent, and the floors are stripped bare, with rows of perforated grates allowing the cavernous space to remain relatively well-ventilated. It’s clear that no one has visited this room in quite some time, and perhaps there had once been plans for it, now abandoned to hold a stock of random items in its place.

There are boxes stacked against the wall, and a shelving unit that holds miscellaneous supplies: cans and boxes, batteries and wires, old bound notebooks made of paper. Rolls of rough tarp are haphazardly leaning against the wall to one corner, and thermal blankets are scattered amongst scraps of loose-leaf, a sketch of a cluster of spherical shapes in different colours, and other foreign knick-knacks that seem to have no place on a space station. If you decide to explore this space you’ll have to provide your own source of light as none of the lighting above seem to work though the row of fixtures that you’re used to seem, at least, to have been installed. They’re just not currently online.

Investigating the room a little deeper might draw you to a simple metal box sitting in the middle shelf next to what looks like a half-broken lute, its strings missing. There is no lock on this box, as though it wants to be opened, and lifting the lid will reveal a bright rosy-coloured light. Reaching out towards the small sliver of light in the shape of an elongated teardrop will recall a memory of your childhood so vivid, you’ll think you were back in that time, in that exact moment, to relive it again. Whether it's a good memory or a tragic one is left up to random chance. Only someone entering the room to talk you through your memory will remind you that you aren’t actually a child any longer.


2.0   Perhaps you decide to forgo the sleeping quarters entirely, and want to revisit one of your favourite simulations in the simulation room. Familiar oceans, the futuristic bar, or the room filled with adorable puppies might be your first choice — but every preset you’re used to scrolling through seems to be different now. There are the standard, familiar pre-mission training simulations, and even the Lodgen Mountain Mines mission appears to be here, but everything else has either been deleted … or it was never here to begin with.

You might decide to go ahead with one of the already existing simulations anyway, or you might want to start rewriting the one you’d come here for in the first place. It will depend on your luck, and it will depend on the success of your mission-training, but a small shard of bright, silvery coloured light may suddenly reveal itself to you. It appears like a thin tear-shape that hangs suspended in the air. The faintest whisper beckons you close; it’s familiar. Will you reach out to touch it? Doing so will colour the simulation room around you with a memory so real it might as well be — suddenly you might recall a happy moment in your life, or perhaps your greatest victory or adventure. This can be shared with whoever enters the simulation room with you or after you, and will fade when you manage to locate the right door and leave the room.


3.0   The sunlight room that you may have walked through on countless occasions is missing the familiar bridge, the river that runs beneath it, and trees that surround it. Instead, the vegetation around you appears to be far more deliberate and practical, thick foliage like bushes planted in rows, their large leaves covering most of the ground and soil. Several small metal boxes with wires and buttons can be found planted across the space, each with a thin rotating disc that whirs and spins quietly. Each of these boxes appears to give off readings, each screen displaying a continuous green wavy line scrolling across it and text that displays the quality of the air with a percentile grade, the amount of it being produced, and that particular box’s designation zone: Mess Hall, Storage, Living Quarters, and Teleportation Platform among others. This isn’t just a room that simulates nature, but if you were to approach any of the small bushes and saplings here, it’s clear that the plants here are real and they’re currently working to provide the rest of the station with oxygen.

Further to the back of the sunlight room, a bright sliver of colourful green light seems to glitter and glint between the leaves. It feels familiar in the way that it whispers faintly, and if you concentrate you can make out the sound of your name in a voice like that of someone from your past: a friend, perhaps, or a family member. Maybe a loved one or an enemy. Or perhaps it’s a voice you can’t actually recognize. It might compel you to reach out for the light, but will you listen? Or will you turn away?

If you embrace the light and call out in answer to the voice, you will re-experience the action, the conversation, or the thought that you attribute as being the reason you are who you are today with that most important person being the key piece in your memory.


4.0   Looking for your usual snacks? Feeling peckish for that bowl of instant spicy space-ramen you saved for post-mission? You might head into the kitchen expecting the familiar foodstuffs that you’re used to only to find that the room has been rearranged, with far fewer cupboards and appliances, and more of what looks like typical space-fare: freeze-fried items and nutrition-focused meals sealed into silver foiled bags. What ‘fresh’ ingredients exist are even less, and there are a stack of dirty plates and cutlery in the sink that don’t look like anything you or your crewmates might have used. You may already suspect that this whole station isn’t the one you’re used to, or you might still be in denial. Either way, you may find through your rummaging the call to a little sliver of coppery-coloured light located behind the freezer door.

If you decide to touch the fragment of light here, you’ll feel a ghostly burning as though the glint of the light has cut your skin, almost cold enough to feel sharp — but it’s just your imagination, isn’t it? What you remember now as it comes back to life around you (and the team member or members who may have joined you) is the best meal you’ve ever eaten, whether it is something you made for yourself, something made by your loved one, or the meal that leaves your heart feeling empty and aching.


5.0   You may have become so accustomed to seeing the North Wing doors sealed that it’s your curiosity that draws you forward to the wide expanse beyond the now open wing, your feet testing the threshold as if you’re expecting an invisible wall to keep you out. Nothing happens when you step into the North Wing, though you might immediately notice the large tank that holds all of the team’s successfully captured orbs is very clearly missing. And not only that but the space appears to be well lived in, a small cluster of worn chairs and a table set to one side, and data pads and drawings on white-boards in plain view. They don’t seem to be much more than a couple of crude strategy diagrams (and a couple of silly stick figures in one corner) and as you move towards the crew quarters, some of you might instantly recognize the familiar room with its rows of beds and a scattering of personal effects assigned to each bunk. Photos are pinned to walls of a twenty-person crew, pillows and blankets are left in disarray by unfinished knitting projects, a diary written in a language you can’t quite translate, and a stuffed elephant-shaped plush doll lies at the head of one of the beds in the middle of the room. By the door is a neatly made bed. An analogue paperback novel sits on the nightstand, a bookmark set in the middle to note its progress. On top of it is a well-kept watch stopped a little after the sixth hour and a medal of service in the now recognizable insignia of the Ndiera Complex’s Federation.

By the far wall of these sleeping quarters is a bright golden starlight that seems to illuminate that side of the room as though someone had turned on a torchlight to the highest setting; it’s almost blinding. Moving closer to it, you’ll find that it’s like all the other slivers of light scattered across the station — a broken shard, like a piece of a large puzzle. Touching it may pull you — and whoever might be in the room with you — into a memory from your time with the Ximilia crew, whether it happened over a year ago, or it happened only on the last mission. It might be a happy memory, or it might be something you regret, which is poignant considering your initial raison d’etre for being here at all. It’s a vision that appears from your perspective and while you relive it, you feel outside of yourself.


6.0   The rest of the station still appears to be intact, with the infirmary, the training room, and the armoury in the same locations that you remember. Those of you who have been here for quite some time, you’ll find your way around by muscle memory alone; but even if you’re a newer member of the crew you’ll have wandered the halls enough to know what feels familiar to you … and what doesn’t.

The infirmary looks to be a little out of date, though it looks as if it’s seen its fair share of use. And it’s smaller too, the more recent addition and surgical area missing from the cozy space. The training room and the armoury share similar qualities of seeming a little older, a little more lived in, and with well-used equipment and weapons to boot. The training room is still padded with firm padded flooring and benches for sitting. Some of the racks and hooks (all empty) that had been against the wall have fallen now, and similar to the teleportation room, you’ll find that some of the paneling in this room has since peeled away, revealing some of the bare structure behind them. In the armoury, you won’t find your favourite knife or preferred staff but there are still a few choices in weaponry to arm yourself with.

Wherever you decide to explore, you might once more happen upon a bright bluish light that seems to whisper and call to you in soft, hushed tones. No specific words can be picked out through the murmurs but the feeling is all the same — it draws you forward like a moth to flame, but whether you decide to reach a hand out to touch the sliver of light that hangs suspended in the air is entirely your choice. If you do, you might succumb to a vivid memory of a significant injury you or someone important to you had suffered once, reliving that moment with too sharp clarity. Those feelings of fear or threat or maybe even satisfaction seem to come to you again as though you were there again — only this time you may not be alone as you witness this memory, and someone else has entered the room with you.

Present Day.

The teleportation platform hums quietly in a clean, well-maintained room. No walls or floors appear to be even the least bit dented, and now the Commander of the Ximilia stands behind the control board, staring at the screen as though doing so will bring their crew back by some wild form of magic. Degar knows magic — he’d come from a world so full of it. This, however, is something different.

Beside him, Viveca scans through the data that had sent the crew into the Ndiera Complex, as it should have brought them back the same way, with the orb in tow.

// VIVECA
“I don’t know how it happened… they should have arrived here. Everything seemed normal! But I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.”

// DEGAR
“They could be anywhere, right? Except we can’t even help them if we don’t know where that might be.”

// VIVECA
“I know. The strange thing is that it seems that we’ve located another orb… only, it states that it’s here. On the station. So even if the platform sent them straight to it… why aren’t they here?”

The Commander and the AI both turn their gaze towards the still empty teleportation platform before exchanging worried glances with each other. Degar finally heaves an exhale but the frown in his features deepens.

// DEGAR
“Keep working at it. I’m going to see what I can figure out in the station’s systems. Maybe we can trace back to the team somewhere. Or somewhen.”

Viveca nods, her voice sounding complicated when she responds next.

// VIVECA
“Yeah. We’ll find them.”

TOP


F Y I

The events in this log take place during the first two weeks of June.

For this mission, we have decided to run the search request mechanic a little differently. Depending on whether your character decides to touch or grasp one or any of the slivers of coloured light that can be found throughout the station, you will have the opportunity to participate in a search request. More on this is explained HERE.

If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

Any in-character questions to 0-L1V-14 can be asked HERE.

And finally, your soundtrack for this log:

TOP


NAV

singlelogbridge: (220)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2023-06-25 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
[The apology gets an eyebrow raise and then a half smile and he shakes his head.]

It was hardly your choice either. [The statement makes him curious though, and since it was offered freely unlike the memory, he doesn't stop himself from asking.]

What are you used to then?
oiorpata: (53)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-25 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
I told you I'm still just a human in the end. I'll go out the way we all do.

[ her grip, having tightened too much on the necklace, loosens, and she flexes her fingers. ]

He's been gone for about a thousand years. I keep it quiet because I know people will want me to stop the way I operate. And I'm not going to.
peasant: (pic#14959456)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-25 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ a twitch of her mouth gives away her withheld laugh. there's a certain deserved pride she takes in this: rendering him speechless, crumbling his composure. the need in his voice feels more honest, more true, than any arrogance — playful or otherwise. a ripple of human emotion, all the more pronounced for how often he carries himself with collected poise, like tremors across a smooth pond.

still, it's a triumph that's short-lived, and perhaps ill-placed. his fingertips work with a pinpoint precision she's come to expect, methodical and exacting — and unrelenting, as a result, offering little mercy in every slick rub. studious, she'd even dare to say, like he's read the textbook on how to efficiently undo her. she chases it, still, little urgent rocks of her hips that testify to alina's own awareness of how little privacy — and how little time — they have for this.

the satisfied flush in her face deepens, a cherry-wine color that looks as intoxicated as alina herself, right before she has the decency to bury her head in his throat. it muffles some of the sounds that slip past the gate of her teeth, a caress of sighs and bitten back moans that absorb into his skin. some attempt at restraint, more than anything, has her teeth latching onto his skin when she finally shudders against him — a fluttering twitch that has her curling more tightly into him, wracked by the shivering pulses of orgasm.

her fingertips curl safely in the back of his shirt, clutching. this time, it's an apology that has her mouth pressing slackly to the reddened mark she's worried into his skin, silent and soft.
]
deaddrop: (acroaspis mamillana)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-25 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
Hmm. That does put us at a little bit of a disadvantage. I've had exactly one time travel-slash-alternate-timeline experience, and I can't say I was on the technical side of things.

[She also can't say it went well in every respect, though they did succeeed in the collecting magical objects across space and time side of things.

So her track record could be worse.]


You?
deaddrop: (pic#16283751)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-25 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
I know. I guess it's still easy to forget sometime.

[Especially when Andy got melted in a volcano and bounced back.]

But I promise I won't try to tell you what to do or not to do. Considering how much I'd hate it if someone told me what I could or couldn't do, it would be hypocritical for me to start sticking my nose in your business.
rootlessly: (pic#16358967)

[personal profile] rootlessly 2023-06-25 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
Many of the people on my planet have never been in space, either. Most of the technology to do so was lost in a crash generations ago.

[It's a strange feeling, finding himself in space again after all this time.]

How have you liked space so far?
doooooog: (pic#16299137)

[personal profile] doooooog 2023-06-25 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
It's then that the child's hair comes into sharper focus, the dark brown from the photo Yujin once showed him lightening to the color of bubblegum. Another glance at the woman shows that she had changed as well, though Jake realizes his own effect on this memory still casts the dead woman as the someone Yujin might hold in high esteem. Even in death, her delicate features couldn't conceal an inner core of strength that got her child safely into the arms of someone who would care for it.

Jake could still remember what a wreck he'd been during Lady's birth, and what a wreck he'd been after. Looking up at his friend's young face, whether or not this child was his biological daughter or not, it was hard to see anything but another father on the cusp of the most terrifying journey there was.

Jake huffs out a sigh, letting his head rest heavy against Yujin's thigh. And that's where it still rests when the memory melts around them, back into rusted metal panels and the too-cold recycled air of the Ximilia.

Neither say anything for a long moment, Jake opting to keep his big mouth shut for once and lean his weight harder against him. This time, his dear friend could set the tone he needed.

He'd be along for whatever Yujin needed from him, as he would always be.
doooooog: (g)

[personal profile] doooooog 2023-06-25 03:25 am (UTC)(link)
Like... politically? Whoa--[ There's a beat of pause as Jake reacts to the children's enthusiasm, though it's quickly followed up with a warm chuckle. The kind of thing that comes with being both very used to (and very fond of) that kind of reaction. ] Oh this? That's nothing, kiddo.

[ Definitely go get Rem, he could use an audience. ]

Any requests?
Edited 2023-06-25 03:31 (UTC)
rootlessly: (pic#16518590)

[personal profile] rootlessly 2023-06-25 03:54 am (UTC)(link)
[Vash blinks those big blue eyes of his once, twice.]

What's...politically?

[This boy has only been alive a couple months at this point, Rem has not gotten that far in teaching him things yet...whoops.

The question becomes significantly less interesting to Vash when he is offered the opportunity of a request, though, which draws the sort of reaction that bringing a child into a candy shop and telling them they can pick anything might. He bounces on his heels a little, gears in his mind turning as it considers potential uses of sprouting extra hands]


Ummm! Can you do a handstand on your extra hands? Or...or climb up the wall like a--a...[what's that lil critter called again] ...like a spider!
dispassioned: (pic#16249600)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-25 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
[She’s irresistible like this, flushed and undone. She always is, in this moment. But he's realizing that, perhaps, he underestimated how hot this would be, to have her clinging to him, trying desperately to hold back the sounds his attention is pulling out of her. He slides his free arm around her to hold her as she trembles through her climax, unable to withhold his own ragged gasp as her teeth sink into his skin.]

Fuck, Alina…

[He chuckles helplessly, momentarily dizzy with his own arousal as he nuzzles her hair.]
oiorpata: (11)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-25 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
I want it to be that way.

[ each injury still hurts, each death carves more pieces out of her. but she'd much rather people think of it as perhaps slightly disconnected from regular humanity. ]

[ a small relief sinks into her shoulders, not that she'd thought natasha much of a gossip. ]


It's not like most people can force me into anything. But it's easier to carry on when they don't know.
oiorpata: (108)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-25 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
You needed special training to get into space, and it was mostly just to orbit around the planet for a little while.

[ the space race was a fascinating time for a woman who spent millennia staring at the stars. ]

I'm not sure the Ximilia counts as the full experience. I can tell you I don't like how cooped up it feels here sometimes.
oiorpata: (54)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-25 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ it's not hard to picture an even smaller natasha being thrown into a mission given everything she knows about her. and who suspects a child? for some, a child is just a small person who can be weaponized. natasha had been, from infancy. ]

Processing what? Data? Or you?
deaddrop: (pic#15124027)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-25 05:03 am (UTC)(link)
Yeah, it's terrible when people worry about you.

[Dryly. Someone else might have meant it as a joke at Andy's expect, but from Andy there's a certain dry wistfulness to it.

It would be easier if people didn't care sometimes.]


We're all taking risks, though, right? How I figure it we just have to let everyone figure out how far they're willing to go.
deaddrop: (icona alba)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-25 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
[Awful useful for a spy. Children can be curious in ways adults can't be, are forgiven for odd or pushy behavior more easily.

Underestimated constantly.

Natasha licks her lips.]


Primarily the latter. Though debriefing was part of the process.
rootlessly: (pic#16518586)

[personal profile] rootlessly 2023-06-25 05:32 am (UTC)(link)
[A year ago...? That would've been before the Great Fall, wouldn't it? He doesn't remember Rem mentioning anyone coming out of cold sleep during that time...was it possible for someone to get sick in there?

Or maybe this guy doesn't remember the timeline exactly, and it happened after the crash. Vash looks at him puzzled for a moment longer before he shakes his head.]


Uh-uh. It's not nice to make fun of people.

...Plants produce things that help humans live. Electricity, water, amino acids...stuff like that. I um, I don't make anything, but...I was able to help when this plant was dying, so. I guess I can do stuff too?

[It's said a little tentatively, though, like he's still a little surprised himself.]
rootlessly: (pic#16363793)

[personal profile] rootlessly 2023-06-25 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
Guess I was able to skip the special training from having been born aboard, hahah.

[It occurs to him...this might be the first time he's talked openly about it in a hundred and fifty years. There's something jarring in that.]

I don't know, the station has felt very nostalgic to me, honestly. The SEEDS ship was bigger, I think, but I was also a lot smaller back then!
deferences: (♪ thoughtful)

[personal profile] deferences 2023-06-25 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
[after having interacted with cal during their last mission, sizhui quickly learned the other male is someone he can trust and genuinely enjoys the company of, which is why he has no problems when it comes to asking if his new friend might want to hang out for a bit, now that they're finally back aboard the ximilia. nothing too noteworthy, he'd think, just sharing lunch again and perhaps making their way into the common room afterward, but he hadn't expected to walk right into a memory (despite it seemingly happening all over the ship).

he stays put where he is some feet back, eyes widened as the scenery around them shifts, something completely unrecognizable, though not too wildly different from what he's gotten used to over the past couple months; it's the abrupt movement he catches out of his periphery that draws his attention, a slow, amused smile brightening his expression at the sight of cal standing atop a couch. what's he doing? sizhui can't tell this far away, except once cal moves, he follows, standing before him, his own gaze drifting up toward the vent too. it takes coaxing, but the bogling eventually relents, scurrying from its hiding place to duck underneath the couch instead.

watching fondly while cal's interacting with the odd-looking yet still somehow cute creature, he's caught in the memory, almost like living it himself in spite of knowing that isn't the case. it's cute, how cal pets the bogling and promises to keep its secret, the warm way he laughs at how it nudges against his hand then stares, blinking steadily.

an enlivened giggle comes before it can be stopped, even if sizhui's sleeve-covered hands raise to clap over his mouth anyway. he keeps them there until he's mostly gotten under control, sheepish that he'd ruined the daydream sooner than he would've liked, and yet he doesn't hesitate to speak once it's fragmented.
]

Oh my goodness, what was that little creature?
peasant: (alina-ep6-5)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-25 06:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ her breath snares on a ragged gasp. it's uncomfortable — the soaked cling of her underwear, now. the bumps from the wall's grating grazing the notches of her spine. the jelly-legged shivering of her muscles. but it's worth the rush of her own pulse in her ears, and the beat of his own underneath her tongue. worth the warmth as she tucks herself into him. worth the risk of being caught, and the exhilarating rush of molten heat that seeps inside of her at the thought, adrenalized.

it's nearly enough to make her careless, halfway to feral. she lends him another nip, her only outlet for venting the needy sounds she can't give life to. neither does she have the presence of mind to lend him more than a syrupy hum, half-blissed out as she leads her fingertips — still shaky in the aftermath — to the front of his trousers, driving her palm down against the stiff length of his cock. a little, distracted detour before she slips down the zipper, with much greater care than he's afforded some of his pants.
]
deferences: dns (♪ downbeat)

[personal profile] deferences 2023-06-25 07:50 am (UTC)(link)
Fell. [which surely meant that itachi knew he died, didn't it? sizhui can't (and won't) bring himself to speak out, but the thought is there, forever lingering at the edges of his mind now.

during his initial exploration of the ship, he'd encountered nie huaisang, who wasted no time letting him know that wei wuxian wasn't aware he'd been given a second chance; it's with wariness he accepted keeping it to himself, but doing so to protect his senior makes it far more worthwhile in the long run.

should a time come where it's possible, if it ever does, he will let loose the floodgates with multiple apologies in tow.

sizhui spares a sideways glance toward the hand on his shoulder, briefly pinches his own lips then exhales a sigh.
] I know, I wish he would have had the chance. [he lifts his arm on the opposite side, cups the hand against his face and presses his fingertips against that ever-present forehead ribbon.] But I'm hoping to make up for lost time while we are here.
dispassioned: (pic#16232151)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-25 11:32 am (UTC)(link)
[The pressure of her hand against his cock, and then the gentle teasing, friction as she works open the fly of his pants rips a groan out of him. Or…half a groan. He has the sense to bite his lip on it, muffling the sound before it gets too loud. He’s always a little surprised, how easily her attention can unravel his composure. A touch or a word, driving him to distraction.

In this case, a touch. She seems to be out of words herself, at the moment. He's forced to pull his hand from between her legs to quickly catch himself on the wall behind her, breathless as his hips twitch and rock against her hand, desperately seeking relief.]
morethan084: (confused/curious)

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-25 02:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[Daisy is silent for a moment before her curiosity wins out.]

What happened?
morethan084: (glance)

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-25 02:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[Daisy lets out a slow breath after imagining how exhausting that has to have been. And not only that, but to then end up in a place like this.]

How long were you there for?
morethan084: (empathy/understanding)

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-25 03:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[Daisy smile widens a little, amused by her own joke before she's even said it out loud.]

Did you just think you won the genetic lottery?
drawsblood: (51)

[personal profile] drawsblood 2023-06-25 04:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's enough encouragement that he slips an arm around her and kisses back with the same intensity, beard brushing against her skin as he gets into it. This is a great way to cap off a day that has shown him a bittersweet memory and left him feeling both happy and sad. ]