( open ) and if i only could make a deal with god

[kovach]

CHARACTERS: takeshi kovacs & you
LOCATION: various locations on the station
DATE: late october
CONTENT: post-mission recovery, eating, sparring, getting high, etc.
WARNINGS: broken arm, nudity, sexual content, and various types of drug use in some prompts

I. PRIDE ( limit to 1 tag-in only, cw: broken arm )   the infirmary

---

[ his fight with cheri had turned out pretty rough, and though his sleeve has its advances with neurachem to make him a little more durable than most, it doesn't negate the rough slam of his body against the wall when she'd thrown him with the rough force of her power, resulting in the broken bone of his arm. when they arrive back at the station, most everybody's not in the best of conditions on account of their shared fights, some left better off than others, and though he's more inclined to just pass out right where he lands, kovacs does eventually make his way to the infirmary, still in the bloody, ripped mess of the clothes he arrived in.

he's not exactly expecting anyone to necessarily help him out here, a bit of stubbornness leading him to search around the room for a sling on his own. of course, while the arm is the only thing that's broken, the rest of his body is still plenty aching from the rest of the fighting and he hisses and grits his teeth in the midst of his search, muttering quiet swears as he looks around.

maybe it'd be helpful for someone to lend him a hand. ]

II. GLUTTONY   the mess hall

---

[ once he's got his sling for his arm, along with a fresh shower and clean clothes on, kovacs tries to get himself resettled at the station, at least enough so for him to get some rest after the big fight. starving, he heads on over the kitchen, fixing himself a fairly simply bowl of cereal before he goes out into the mess hall, seating himself at an empty table and picking up the spoon in his bowl with his currently only working hand.

if someone ends up sitting up at his table, his eyes peer over at the rest of the large room with plenty of empty seating before raising his brow at his new shared company. ] No other seats, huh?

III. ENVY ( cw: drug use )   the sunlight room

---

[ it might be something from that final fight, or maybe it's the way he hasn't had anything to keep himself busy since he's been back, but kovacs finds something pestering in his mind, something about his being here bothering him in more ways than he can really place. it's those times where his mind becomes consumed with old ghosts, visions in his mind that seem more real than they are, and so he chooses to fight them in the only way that's currently accessible to him.

in the bright pink backpack brought over with him from his own world, he carries not only a small collection of weapons but an abundance of drugs as well, some on the little harder side than others.

working like eyedrops, he lets the veuron fall into his eyes, feeling the effects of it work into him fast. in mere moments, he can see the colors of the sunlight room almost completely shift, the trees and the flowers suddenly brightening like a hologram of neon lights, the false stars above turning into lined waves of light circling around as his head sways.

bag still over his shoulder, he spins in place, mouth gaping and eyes wide like he's seeing it all for the first time, bright and mesmerizing. ]

IV. SLOTH ( cw: drug use )   the sunlight room

---

[ the hallucinogens aren't the only thing stored in his bag, and when it all becomes too loud, he finds himself seated against the bottom of a tree in the sunlight room, in the late dark of its nights, dropping the contents of a different drug into his eyes, this one with the effects of slowing everything down, everything falling quiet around him, his heart even slowing slightly.

he doesn't need to be high to see her. no, he can always very well see quell like she's right there in front of him, even when he knows she's gone, either as an aftereffect of still being fairly fresh with the sleeve he's wearing or simply because he can never get rid of her in his head — he'd never want to.

to anyone else who might slip by, he'd be staring at nothing right now, eyes focused with his arms dropped at his sides, bag nestled between his thighs, but for him, he can see every detail, every curve of her face as he remembers it vividly, even the sadness of her gaze. ]

I made a deal to get you back. [ he whispers quietly to her, his own eyes damp as he breathes shakily. ] It goes against everything we fought for. Everything you died for. [ with a swallow, his voice is a quiet rasp. ] But I can't do this without you.

V. WRATH   training room

---

[ after about a few days to a week, he can feel the changes in his arm, healing a bit faster than the room, bone repairing from a combination of the tech on the ship on his own body's advantages. and after enough time of his own personal boredom and a frustration is being so limited with his limbs, the first thing he wants to do is make sure it's all in working shape.

heading on over to the training room, unicorn bag slung over his shoulder, his decision on practicing with his hands or a weapon is all dependent on who he may end up fighting against. looking to someone else in the room, he gives them a nod. ] Need a partner?

VI. LUST ( cw: nudity )   shared living space with the darkling

---

[ one thing he's definitely taking advantage of with all his current free time is sleeping, at least for as much as he can when he isn't fighting the sleepless nights, sometimes paired with nightmares of his past. sometimes, the exhaustion kicks in where he even forgets he shares a room, going to bed the way he's most comfortable — completely in the nude.

if there's a knock on the door — be it for him or the darkling, who shares the other half of the space — he'll wake with a muttered swear, rubbing his eyes and sleepily dragging his legs off the bed. too tired to even think of covering up, and often not even thinking of it much even if he were more consciously awake, he stands and heads over to the door, opening it with a deep squint of his eyes and body fully naked. ]

What do you want?

VII. GREED   anything and anywhere

---

( feel free to discuss with me alternative options of the above prompts or something different altogether. if you'd like to discuss a closed starter for me to write, just hit me up on plurk at hepburns or send a pm. ♥ )

Comments

II

[laviny]

[Yelena wanders into the mess hall from the food storage area with a bag of chips and a beer. Truly a feast.

She takes a seat at Kovacs table, across from him and a couple of seats down. She tilts her head at the question.]

There are, but this is the one I wanted.

[She opens her beer, taking a sip and raising her eyebrows at him, as if challenging him to argue with this flawless logic.]

[kovach]

[ he's not really the kind of person who seeks out company too often, though it's not so much that he hates it, only that in these days, it's easier to stick to doing things on his own. and that includes sitting to enjoy a meal.

taking another bite as he raises a brow to her answer, he gives a vague chuckle with his mouth full.

he hadn't known her when they first communicated briefly through the network, but he does remember catching sight of her throwing herself deep into the fight. ]

You're the one who electrified the shit out of Cheri, right?

[laviny]

[She raises her beer bottle in salute.]

Yes, that is me.

[She puts her beer down and grabs her bag of chips.]

Not before she messed you up pretty bad, though. [She's not sure if she should feel bad about that or not. About not being faster. It was an intense situation, though, so she decides probably not.] I took the first opening I had.

Lust

[morethan084]

[Daisy's standing outside Kirigan's room for a few minutes before she finally decides to just knock on the door. Things were--

Weird between them now. To say the least. And sure, she could just try to avoid him, but was that really possible here? No. It's better to just say what's on her mind and get it over with. She hears movement in the room and takes a step back from the door as it opens.]

Uh--

[Daisy got an eyeful before she quickly lifts her head to look off in a different direction.]

I, uh..

Wrong room.

[kovach]

[ even when he opens the door, it's a moment of registering his memory of her — fighting in the arena, rushing through the levels of hq, always in an overly tense situation — that he doesn't immediately become alert of his own nudity.

he squints at her mutter of wrong room, catching the drift of her eyes before he peers down. ]

Shit. [ he's not even necessarily embarrassed though there's an apologetic tone in his voice, taking a few steps back to snag the sheet from the bed, giving it a yank and wrapping it around his waist. ]

Who're you looking for?

[morethan084]

[Out of the corner of her eye, Daisy sees him cover himself and that's when she makes eye contact with him again. Brows knitted together at his question, it takes Daisy's brain a second to catch up.]

Oh, uh, Kirigan. Is he--?

[There was still a lot about Kirigan that Daisy didn't know, like who he was into. Well, aside from Alina...]

Envy

[morethan084]

[The sunlight has quickly become one of Daisy's favorite spots on the station. Not that she's had much time to enjoy it, but, it's a nice break from all of the harsh lighting. Not that any of this was real either, but it felt real if she didn't think too much about it.]

So you do own clothes.

[Daisy teases, spotting Kovacs nearby. She doesn't notice at first, until she gets closer that something is off. As he turns to face in her direction momentarily, she catches the look on his face.

She knows that look, and it makes her smile a little in amusement.]

You good?

[kovach]

[ he doesn't hear her first words to him, his eyes still caught in a daze as they peer around to the room that doesn't look much like a room, and even less so now that the drugs are rushing through his system, making him feel a sense of floating.

when she gets closer, he finally catches notice of her, ceasing his spinning to tilt his head down to look at her, his lips spreading into a wider smile, leaning in a little towards her. ]

This place looks fucking wild.

[morethan084]

[Oh. He's high. Daisy laughs at the expression on his face as he leans in towards her.]

Yeah?

[She looks up at the 'sky', squinting against the light.]

It's pretty cool.

[Her eyes land back on his face, smile widening. Daisy just assumes he's on pain killers for his arm.]

They got you on the good stuff, huh?

IV. It's Sad dead girlfriends feels hours

[spacedisaster]

[ His shoulder stopped hurting so much and Peter has been able to finally ditch the sling, but he's careful not to lift anything too heavy with his right arm. Sleeping in a comfortable position is still a tricky affair, and it's not helped by Peter's regular nightmares that have him thrashing around in bed. Upon waking up, sometimes he remembers about the dreams, sometimes he doesn't, and he can't tell what option is worse. Both let him feeling empty, his whole body tingling with tension as if there are hundreds of little needles prickling at his skin.

Tonight he remembers. Flashes of green skin with silver accents, a soft smile that is rare to see but makes his heart skip a beat with joy, his fingers running through ombre red hair, and Gamora's teary voice...I love you more than anything.. And then things have changed in thr dream. There was a nastier smile, belonging to a monster with purple skin and a black heart, taking her away. He lost her. He failed Gamora. And now she's dead, but she isn't and everything is too complicated.

Chest heaving, Peter leaves his room as quickly and quietly as he can to avoid waking up his roommate. He's still barefoot, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and a simple t-shirt, walking around the station without knowing where to go because he can't escape his own skin, his own bad thoughts. When he somehow ends in the sunlight room, he only notices because the cold metal under his feet is replaced by warmed grass. He keeps walking, eyes unfocused, until he trips over one of Kovacs long legs by pure bad luck and has to catch himself before he ends face-planting on the ground. ]

Ah, shit, sorry. [ He turns to him, but Kovacs seems to be far away too, talking to someone who isn't here. There's something about his tone of voice - broken, hurt, familiar - that pulls at Peter's heart. He kneels down next to the other man, not touching him but calling out his name to try and get his attention. ] Takeshi...?

[kovach]

[ for a moment, he really can't see anything else but her, like he simply doesn't want to, because it'd be easier if he could just lose himself in this, find a way to be with her again, instead of running around trying to abide by this deal he's made with the orbs, especially when he has no idea if it'll even work or whether he's just kidding himself.

he doesn't even immediately notice when someone trips over his leg, almost like his whole body's too numb to feel the nudge before they go stomping forward to maintain their balance.

it's only when he hears the soft whisper of his name, one that so rarely gets used that he's able to see past the haze of the high, turning his head to notice the familiar face kneeling near him, piecing it together. still, it's not like he could really bring himself together, body still a bit weak from the drug that he can't even swipe away the wet trail along his cheek from the fallen tear. ]

... hey. [ his voice is quiet, tired mostly, his gaze not entirely focused, like he's still almost looking past him. ]

[spacedisaster]

[ Peter hasn't come to the simulation room all that often, but he has wondered about its limits. If it would be possible to think about people and see them here. But then again, if that were possible, Peter imagines that everyone in the room would be able to see them. Whatever Kovacs is seeing, it's clearly not him. At least not at first. ]

Ey...It's Peter. Peter Quill, handsome space rogue, we met properly at an art gallery in Braccia. Does it ring a bell? [ He announces, just in case Kovacs's mind it's still not all here, his voice calm and a little tired.

Peter reaches up to cup the man's face, tilting his head towards him to have a better look at his eyes and his dilated pupils. A thumb gently brushes over the stray tears, and the Guardian offers a sympathetic look. This is a bad time, that much is clear, and Kovacs might want to be alone, but Peter can tell that he's high as a kite and that being left with your own demons is never a good choice in that state. He doesn't ask if Kovacs is okay because Peter knows a stupid question even before he utters it. ]

How long have you been here? Do you remember?

ii

[retributioning]

[ renfri, in the meantime, has got her own wounds — superficial compared to his — dressed and, like so many others, makes it to the kitchens to get something to eat... or drink.

drinking sounds particularly appealing. so she pours herself a large mug of ale, dressed still in her half-bloody white dress shirt and black dress pants, hair mussed from her carefully arranged curls, and her sword strapped to her side, still.

oh, she fully intends to sit on her own at first, to find an empty table and talk to absolutely no one... but she spots kovacs, and, recognising him from the involuntarily-witnessed top floor scene, the corner of her mouth twists up into a grin.

she sits opposite him with no fanfare, and as he questions her decision, she shrugs, taking a large gulp of her ale before setting her mug back on the table. ]

I can move, if you'd like.

[ she absolutely does not look like she'd move, even if he asked. besides... he may have not seen her, but maybe her voice is enough. ]

[kovach]

[ he doesn't recognize her when he sees her, which isn't necessarily surprising since he has yet to meet most of the other orbers in the station (particularly because newton's cheat sheet in describing the group was never at all helpful to begin with, anyway). the little he can read before she speaks is the details in her clothes still bloody from the fight, in the weapon at her hip, in the mug of what smells like alcohol from where he sits, in how she takes her own seat in front of him despite the excess empty ones around — she's a woman who doesn't particularly care in what others dare to think of her and makes it a point to make that known.

before he even opens his mouth again to consider another response, he considers her voice, instantly familiar, and while he might not have been in the best condition at the time, it'd be hard to forget the voice that gave him a bit of a boost of encouragement in those struggling moments.

lips shaping into its own subtly amused smirk, he doesn't immediately answer, his good hand getting another spoonful of cereal to bring into his mouth, chewing almost loudly as he looks at her before he swallows it down, pointing the spoon in her direction. ]

You're the mystery sass woman.

[retributioning]

Yes. [ she hides the way her smile widens slightly at the recognition behind another gulp of ale. wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she quips, ]

Also known as Renfri. But keep calling me "mystery sass woman", I like that. Far better than some other things I've been called.

[ she leans back in her chair, giving him a once-over. ]

So you got your arm treated. Good.

i - pride

[attackbrows]

[Be careful what you wish for, Kovacs.

Maybe it is a touch ironic for the Doctor to sit in the corner of the room, perched on top of the chair cushion like some restless house cat (or a milquetoast gargoyle, take your pick) with a packet of crisps in hand. The Doctor had long ditched his Lionetta wears and thrown on his typical, muted baroque grunge wear. So far, there has yet to be anyone coming in with any preconceived notions he is that kind of doctor. God help you if you are caught between him and a Hello Kitty band-aid. But it was no surprise that the infirmary quickly became the place to be once everyone was transported back to the station. Nothing like a cocktail packed to the brim with blind desire, hot-headedness and have that all shaken, not stirred. Add a touch of rattled bones for garnish.

All the Doctor can see with his two blue eyes is a burnt-out cigarette searching for whatever-it-is.]

Y’know they have professionals for that sort of thing.

[And then stuffs his mouth with several crisps.]

[kovach]

[ the thing about envoy conditioning is that it helps to be aware of someone else's presence, almost like a hyper awareness of his surroundings. but while he can sense someone else in the room when he steps inside, he doesn't necessarily think much of it, considering he fully expects the infirmary to be keeping itself busy with the number of injured after the mission.

any other voice and he might not react, but it's in hearing the one that he does that he actually pauses what he's doing to look up. it's become a strange thing with the doctor, like he doesn't know whether to be glad or concerned to find him in the same room.

in the old man's defense, he did help to get his ass out of that room before they had the chance to be teleported out. definitely might have kept him from getting snuffed out completely. ]

Why, there a professional here? [ because he sure as hell knows by now he's not a real doctor. ]

v. wrath

[unclesam]

[ The training room is filled with the sound of metal hitting something, over and over again, just instead of an unpleasant clang the sound is oddly striking, almost pleasant to the ears in ways metal hitting other surfaces shouldn't be. Sam's training with the shield. And what that means is acrobatics - for someone decidedly not short and lithe, Sam's quick on his feet, flexible in the air on jumps and flips, throwing and catching the shield over and over again.

He's reaching for a bottle of water, shield propped against a bench, when Kovacs speaks up, glances over and nods. The sleeves of his shirt are short, and his arms are showing some bruising, faint yet on his dark skin but they'll darken soon enough. Someone's been pushing at it a little hard. Still, Sam throws an easy grin. ]

Different kinda dance this time?

[kovach]

[ kovacs catches a bit of a preview of sam's practice, impressed at the quick, smooth movements, like every shift and jump is just a natural reflex, memorized by his muscles. if kovacs didn't know any better, he'd say the man could even be an envoy; he certainly moves like one.

he gives a smirk at the question, stepping further into his room so he could set his bag down on a bench, shrugging his coat off of his shoulders. ]

Probably be a lot more graceful on my feet this time.

lust

[bossily]

[The funny part about her knocking on his door is she mistakes it for belonging to someone else. Rooms and where her friends belong inside them is still a work in process in the memory department. It'll all come back to her, but for now, it's late at night and she's unable to sleep. That means seeking companionship.

The fact that the potential late night companion is completely naked is a bit of a surprise. But hey, she's not complaining. She just arches her eyebrows and takes the time to give him an appraising look up and down. Her eyes may or may not pause down below the waist for an extended period before eventually glancing back up to his eyes. His very squinty eyes. She doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed for checking him out.]

You might wanna work on your approach if this is your idea of a proposition.

[kovach]

[ he's used to sleeping like this, to shut himself away, devoid of any contact or being bothered, but it's not like he's had much chance for privacy ever since he's been on the station, everyone typically finding any excuse to intermingle in the kind of way he usually tries to avoid if he can help it.

it's why he grunts with a bit of annoyance when there's a knock on the door so late, a disturbance to his short time for himself, even if most nights, he has a roommate on the other side to remind him that he isn't fully alone. tonight, though, it's all him, which is probably why he doesn't even think about the lack of clothes on his body when he opens the door, finding clara on the other side.

he watches her eyes drift down, no sense of modesty in the way she looks him over, and when he takes notice of what she's observing, how much she's looking at, his shoulders sink but he's not hasty in trying to cover up. ]

Well, when a girl comes wandering to my door this late in the night — [ he raises his brow at her, lips pursing up a smirk, before he turns, giving her a view of the rear this time as he steps back to his bed, snagging the sheet to wrap around his waist. ]

II

[savingthrows]

[ Have teenage girl company, Kovacs. It's exactly what your day needs. Eleven plops down opposite him, and brings with her a plate stacked way too high with a swaying tower of waffles, much too generously decorated with whipped cream and a mountain of sprinkles.

Dark brown eyes meet Kovacs' over the stack of waffles with a small shake of her head. No other seats - you're supposed to eat together at the table. Hopper always says so.

Instead: ]

Your food looks sad.

[ She speaks a little more slowly than you'd expect, enunciating with a little more care, as if she has to place the words on her tongue with more effort than you'd expect in a child of roughly 14 years. ]

[kovach]

[ either she's hungry or she's eating with her eyes, and he squints his own in watching that giant stack of waffles, almost considering casting a bet into his own head about whether she'll even be able to down all of that. she seems small enough that he's not even sure it'll fit.

he purses his lips at her commentary, eyes peering down to his own bowl. ]

It's cereal. It's supposed to be sad. [ the pathetic food of the elders, he'll call it. ] So, what, you only eat happy food?

vi, slides in late to the party

[peasant]

[ all of alina's gathered confidence evaporates in the seconds it takes for the door to swing open on kovac's bleary-eyed face. whatever speech she had arranged on her way here, setting her mouth into a pinched scowl — it all falls away, once she realizes ...

this is far from the man she had been planning to assail and ambush with words alone. her surprise is doe-like, a creature that's traipsed out of the woods to find itself face to face with unexpected company, as she wordlessly blinks back at him — and then recovers quickly enough, as though she had never been caught in the act of storming over to the darkling's door to rain a downpour of choice words on him.

thankfully, kovac's nudity gives her the perfect excuse to play off her shock. to her credit, her eyes only briefly flicker over him in curiosity — like they're being pulled on a string against her will before she forces them back to his eyes. he's not the first naked body she's stumbled across, after all; modesty had never been among the first army's ranks. ]

Is this how you're greeting everyone who helped you? [ her eyebrows raise, faintly amused. she peeks around him and past the crack in the door, ensuring kirigan isn't fulfilling his usual duty of looming in dark corners. once satisfied, she swivels it back on him. ] I came to check on you.

[ not that she had fared much better, but — magic has healed most of the damage of her fractured arm, leaving behind only a field of berry-red bruises on her skin, slowly but surely fading as the hours tick by. ]

[kovach]

[ he's the type to easily get in a sour mood if his sleep is interrupted, mostly for the fact that he gets so very little of it in the first place. it makes it that much easier to not think about what's covering him up, or the lack of clothing all together, not until the door is wide open and alina's on the other side looking him over.

the thing with the sleeve technology he's used to is that there's never much modesty in the way of nudity in the first place, but even if it weren't the case, it's likely that kovacs wouldn't care much about it anyway.

his eyes peer down at himself, taking note of how exposed he is, before he sighs, looking back up at her. ]

It is when they come to wake me up past bed time. [ though, truth be told, he has no idea what time it is, harder to tell when they're on a station with no real sense of passage of time. there's no sense of embarrassment or rush either when he turns back into his room, snagging a pair of elastic shorts to pull up over his hips. ] Come in if you want.