He..........edges inside, but not by far. EMBARRASSMENT? It's porn.] Probably. [He can't tell what she feels exactly, but he has a good inkling based on........what he feels.]
[After a moment of hesitation, he wanders farther inside to the bed, but near the opposite end. Each step thumps the ache in the back. The muffled cacophony of a rambling mind rolls in the back.
A kind of sadness seeps through, too. It's small for now, but darker, more hopeless. It's guilty, it wants to be done.
He sits on the edge of the bed, propping the crutch against his front and shoulder.]
[he sits, and she looks at him with a wildly pouty look on her face. like there's no mistaking it, this is full on sulking for getting caught by a dork.
... she shows him the book that she is reading. it's this. so like, not porn, but. pretty close. it's the trashiest romance novel you could even begin to think of.
she's embarrassed, but it's not like humiliated or anything like that? it's more indignant. mostly it's like i dare you to make fun of me for this i'll put a curse on your children's children if you say ANYTHING.]
[She is.........pouting. It's cute. He is too stupid to think it's cute in any kind of romantic way, he just thinks it's cute in general. He tries to hide any kind of smile, forcefully straightening his face into composure.
But the endeared amusement is sort of there, smothering beneath the Everything Else.]
I see. Reminds me a little of my research partner... without the long hair.
He takes the book and turns it around while holding it out a bit to appraise the cover. Hmmmmmm.
He opens it to a random page to glance through. He clears his throat.]
"He stood in the doorway with the wind behind him, hair flowing, but never tangling. The muscles of his chest reflected the candlelight, and, in them, my hungry eyes"--
there's two urges now. the first one is instinctive embarrassment and horror at him reading it out loud. the second is the urge to bully the shit out of him in response, and by the time he gets to the end of the sentence, she says, loudly, interrupting:]
If you're looking for the smut, it's a few pages past that. [she will NOT be embarrassed in her own house]
[The asexuality strikes Throné where she sits. Granted, he isn't oblivious. If she were, like, naked in front of him, he would be flustered considerably. YOU JUST DON'T LOOK AT NAKED WOMEN WHO HAPPEN TO BE YOUR ROOMMATE?]
Your secret is safe with me.
[SHE COULD JUST TELL TEMENOS THAT HE IS DYING, and he would shrivel up.]
I see. [He turns so he is straighter where he sits; something pulls a bit at Throné's lower back.] I haven't spoken to any of them yet. Not the first go around for sure.
...Not a fan of crowds really. [...] Do you think they would have a book on the "nanites" inside of us?
no, she shifts, and stretches a little, like she can ease the pain she keeps feeling from him by moving around. hrhhghk. at the very least, he's not getting anything physical back from her - she's in very good shape, except for the weight of the collar around her neck. that might feel stifling sometimes.]
They're better to speak to one on one. [she tells him. and then:] I think that's a possibility. Io might know.
... I don't like thinking about them. [the whole experience has been weird but the nanites are the thing that make her skin crawl, makes her feel sick. she is very big on control, and those being in her is not fun.]
Sometimes you just sit with the pain because it's all you've mostly known. It's funny he doesn't fidget constantly under it. Or sad. (It's sad.) THE COLLAR IS CONCERNING, THOUGH?]
I didn't at first. Now I'm not sure if I mind actually.
[Looking off into the middle distance of the room in front of them with this forlorn wistfulness.]
Having machinery inside on you... Maybe my body wouldn't deteriorate so quickly? Maybe... I'd have more time.
... I think you'll be alright here. [she has no way of proving this or anything but.] It seems illogical to force you to be here if you only had a few days to live.
You should speak with the senior crew. There isn't a point in suffering if you don't need to, Viktor.
[The nanites, or maybe even this place in general. He thinks it's keeping him from getting any worse than he had initially been.]
I can try, but... I don't know if they can fix what's wrong with me.
[THE DOUBT IS NOT HER BUT HIM. For as wildly innovative and magical as his world might be, there are no end-all-be-all cures. He can't wrap his head around there being a way. Him! An inventor!]
[there's something like - i mean, she's always sad, but something about the way he talks really just makes it flare up.]
Well. If I know anything about fixing problems, it's the there isn't a neat solution tied with a bow. [she keeps her hand where it is.] There are always steps. Some are easy. Some are hard.
... But you should take them anyway. [a pause.] A friend of mine tells me all the time that getting better is hard work, and takes a lot of hope that isn't always feasible to feel.
I've never been a hopeful person, but I do believe in the dawn.
[Throné is being kind, and he isn't sure what to do with it, as someone who has rarely had someone be kind to him... outside of, like... the Dean. Jayce. What does he do with kindness?
Why does the kindness... make it harder to think he knows he won't get to live?
She can probably feel how hard he swallows, even if he doesn't make any noise. He reaches up to very lightly put a little of his fingers on top of her hand. Almost like he is scared to touch her at all.]
...
Have you ever... done something truly horrible? Have you ever... hurt someone accidentally and knew... they didn't deserve it?
[man. it sucks that they have this in common - not knowing what to do with kindness.
when he touches her fingers, she doesn't move. stays, just watching him with a soft look. and when he asks, she laughs a little. it's not mean, or at least, she doesn't mean for it to be. it is a little wry.]
Yes. More than once. [she's confident in that. but she waits - lets him lead.]
... Hm. [to her credit maybe, she gives that a lot of thought.]
You do it anyway. [she says, finally.] You only have one life. You can live it however you want, but you don't get a second try. So you don't give up on it.
And then maybe eventually you'll think that you do deserve it.
[This surprises him enough it makes him look over at her again. He's not sure how to respond!! To something this profound and also, annoyingly, correct and relatable.
Will he ever think he deserves it before the guilt eats him alive?]
You're right... I'll keep going for however long I can.
[He is not sure how much she will like a touch from a dude she barely knows, so he pats the top of her hand with his fingers in acknowledgment.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He..........edges inside, but not by far. EMBARRASSMENT? It's porn.] Probably. [He can't tell what she feels exactly, but he has a good inkling based on........what he feels.]
Were you... reading?
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a beat. she just takes the probably as is, because owie, and she'll get to it in a second but first:]
... Yes. [she's. deliberating. does she trust him enough with this...]
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A kind of sadness seeps through, too. It's small for now, but darker, more hopeless. It's guilty, it wants to be done.
He sits on the edge of the bed, propping the crutch against his front and shoulder.]
Is it good? Do you mind if... I take a look?
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... she shows him the book that she is reading. it's this. so like, not porn, but. pretty close. it's the trashiest romance novel you could even begin to think of.
she's embarrassed, but it's not like humiliated or anything like that? it's more indignant. mostly it's like i dare you to make fun of me for this i'll put a curse on your children's children if you say ANYTHING.]
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But the endeared amusement is sort of there, smothering beneath the Everything Else.]
I see. Reminds me a little of my research partner... without the long hair.
[He could never hope to be that buff.]
Is it any good?
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... No. [she says, after a moment. sigh.] But it is entertaining.
[it's so ridiculous that she can't help but enjoy it.]
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May I see it? Where did it come from?
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she doesn't but there is the urge to flick him in the nose. he can have the book.]
I asked Metis for novels to read to pass the time.
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He takes the book and turns it around while holding it out a bit to appraise the cover. Hmmmmmm.
He opens it to a random page to glance through. He clears his throat.]
"He stood in the doorway with the wind behind him, hair flowing, but never tangling. The muscles of his chest reflected the candlelight, and, in them, my hungry eyes"--
[In an exaggerated voice.]
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there's two urges now. the first one is instinctive embarrassment and horror at him reading it out loud. the second is the urge to bully the shit out of him in response, and by the time he gets to the end of the sentence, she says, loudly, interrupting:]
If you're looking for the smut, it's a few pages past that. [she will NOT be embarrassed in her own house]
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Already? But it's so early in the novel.
[Turning the book to look exaggeratedly at how less thick one side of the book is than the other. HE IS SOMEHOW NOT FLUSTERED.
He smiles knowingly though, slight, and offers her the book back. It doesn't seem like he will judge her for her bad tastes.]
Did you like Metis?
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her look is still vaguely pouty, but she takes the book back and sits on it. no more looking.]
If you tell Temenos about this, they'll never find your body. [this is a threat!!! and then:]
... I don't hate them. [metis is her favorite so far unfortunately]
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Your secret is safe with me.
[SHE COULD JUST TELL TEMENOS THAT HE IS DYING, and he would shrivel up.]
I see. [He turns so he is straighter where he sits; something pulls a bit at Throné's lower back.] I haven't spoken to any of them yet. Not the first go around for sure.
...Not a fan of crowds really. [...] Do you think they would have a book on the "nanites" inside of us?
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no, she shifts, and stretches a little, like she can ease the pain she keeps feeling from him by moving around. hrhhghk. at the very least, he's not getting anything physical back from her - she's in very good shape, except for the weight of the collar around her neck. that might feel stifling sometimes.]
They're better to speak to one on one. [she tells him. and then:] I think that's a possibility. Io might know.
... I don't like thinking about them. [the whole experience has been weird but the nanites are the thing that make her skin crawl, makes her feel sick. she is very big on control, and those being in her is not fun.]
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Sometimes you just sit with the pain because it's all you've mostly known. It's funny he doesn't fidget constantly under it. Or sad. (It's sad.) THE COLLAR IS CONCERNING, THOUGH?]
I didn't at first. Now I'm not sure if I mind actually.
[Looking off into the middle distance of the room in front of them with this forlorn wistfulness.]
Having machinery inside on you... Maybe my body wouldn't deteriorate so quickly? Maybe... I'd have more time.
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she pauses, and then reaches to briefly rest her fingertips on his arm.]
... How long do you think you have without their interference?
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He glances at her when she touches him, but doesn't startle or anything. His brows lower with his frown.]
I'm not sure how to answer you. I don't have very long at all. I think... I might have even less if I go back to where I had been before here.
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... I think you'll be alright here. [she has no way of proving this or anything but.] It seems illogical to force you to be here if you only had a few days to live.
You should speak with the senior crew. There isn't a point in suffering if you don't need to, Viktor.
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[The nanites, or maybe even this place in general. He thinks it's keeping him from getting any worse than he had initially been.]
I can try, but... I don't know if they can fix what's wrong with me.
[THE DOUBT IS NOT HER BUT HIM. For as wildly innovative and magical as his world might be, there are no end-all-be-all cures. He can't wrap his head around there being a way. Him! An inventor!]
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Well. If I know anything about fixing problems, it's the there isn't a neat solution tied with a bow. [she keeps her hand where it is.] There are always steps. Some are easy. Some are hard.
... But you should take them anyway. [a pause.] A friend of mine tells me all the time that getting better is hard work, and takes a lot of hope that isn't always feasible to feel.
I've never been a hopeful person, but I do believe in the dawn.
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Why does the kindness... make it harder to think he knows he won't get to live?
She can probably feel how hard he swallows, even if he doesn't make any noise. He reaches up to very lightly put a little of his fingers on top of her hand. Almost like he is scared to touch her at all.]
...
Have you ever... done something truly horrible? Have you ever... hurt someone accidentally and knew... they didn't deserve it?
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when he touches her fingers, she doesn't move. stays, just watching him with a soft look. and when he asks, she laughs a little. it's not mean, or at least, she doesn't mean for it to be. it is a little wry.]
Yes. More than once. [she's confident in that. but she waits - lets him lead.]
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The laugh sounds like laughs he has given himself. When you struggle to get the joy back into your voice.]
What do you do...
[He pauses, hesitates. His hand doesn't drop completely, but it slouches a bit, and he looks away into the room.]
What do you do when you want to live, but you don't think you deserve to?
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... Hm. [to her credit maybe, she gives that a lot of thought.]
You do it anyway. [she says, finally.] You only have one life. You can live it however you want, but you don't get a second try. So you don't give up on it.
And then maybe eventually you'll think that you do deserve it.
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Will he ever think he deserves it before the guilt eats him alive?]
You're right... I'll keep going for however long I can.
[He is not sure how much she will like a touch from a dude she barely knows, so he pats the top of her hand with his fingers in acknowledgment.]
Thank you, Throné.
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