goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"All Hallows'," she says, a dismissive flick of the wrist. "They might even believe it, if only for one night." But if he wants to be heckled, that's just fine by her. "What topics are you considering for your next video?"

"Once a day." He knew it was regular but... "There is no way in hell I am going once a day. There should be no reason you have to."

"Oh good. I like her." She is creepy in a stepford smiley kind of way, but she explains everything. Even if he doesn't UNDERSTAND the words she's using, she explains and he appreciates that. Doesn't say a damn thing about how his eye doesn't focus properly either, so that's good.

He has to get dressed to head upstairs and Delta sends his bag up to

to.

"...holyshit is this a bad sitcom or what." At least the bed isn't shaped like a heart- but there IS a champagne bottle- or a basket of them. And condoms. And packets of lube that probably comes with the room. "...if there's chocolate somewhere I'm eating it and I don't even care."

"It's as much to help me recover as it is to study my brain." He shrugs. "You probably won't have to."

[ It's a good thing that commentary stays inside his head. She'd be even less thrilled with him if he decided to become a greater inconvenience. As it is, her fist remains held, and Carolina waits. Ignores the trickle of sweat she can feel firming on her brow, ignores the worry creeping a cold finger down her spine.

And then, a fwhoooooom, as half the electricity across the site goes down, taking some lights with them. Yells follow, in the distance, as various devices go off. Time to get going while the chaos is good.

Her hand drops, and she breaks into a sprint. Go go go!]

"Then they can stick you in an MRI and take some scans every now and then if they want to study your brain."

"We'd have to put clothes on you, cover up some of the scales. We'll think of something." The far too real and far too convincing scales. Right. "Well this last one went well but- I'm thinking casting on a budget? Cheap alternatives to the stuff people order online for an arm and a leg. Things they can find in their yard or their area without having to shell out a lot of cash. I mean some things you get what you pay for but if you're living local, something from where you are is more effective energy wise."

He may or may not have doubled back over on his readings and research since summoning Carolina and the lessons started. Magic's all about rules. Know the rules? Know the system? You can work with it. Or crack it- not that he's interested in that.

"...You're getting angry about this. Why are you getting angry about this?" It's less invasive than the shit he went through in the other shatterdome.

What the shite?

[ That is not a LITTLE distraction. That is- bedlam. It's BEDLAM is what it is but he doesn't have time to ask- just sprints after her. It'd be easier if he had the armor and he can't really police how he's moving but- halls a hall and some shit is in the way- he vaults. Slides and sprints and uses every skill he ever had in the project to keep right on her heels.

The last thing he needs to do is slow her down.

Door's up front and if he's lucky, it's the same sort of lock as the rest. He slides into place, hands flying up to test the matrix and- yep. Backdoor in place. He threads that line of code in and out to unspool it, to pop it open and they're home free. ]

"Because you're not a lab experiment, Taylor!"

"..." York just, blinks at Malcolm for a long moment, Carolina is the one that steps around him to break the silence.

'Not anymore, at least. He doesn't listen to me'.

Somehow, what should be a ringing endorsement isn't. But that will be something to worry about in the morning.

Tonight, there is this ridiculous room with its giant water bed, far too large windows overlooking the city, a bath tub very clearly made fir two, and several nooks and crannies and hook points that don't necessarily scream honeymoon to Carolina. Or perhaps her idea of first married night affairs is too vanilla? Either way, "Don't touch anything," she orders, before she begins her sweep of each room. She doesn't want to risk /anything/ by not being thorough at her job.

"...but who would poison chocolate?" It is now a concern he didn't know he needed to have until now- and as much fun as the bed looks he hovers by the door, waiting patiently for Carolina to do her job. The hooks look kind of fun. He might monkey around on them later- he didn't have his doorframe bar for pullups in this tour van.

The glass door between the bedroom and the bathroom though- good thing he showered on the bus.

Soon as the all clear is given he looks and does, in fact, find chocolates.

Shaped like genitals.

"Oh christ what the fuck."

He's about to say something else, because what is that face for, when there's movement. Like a blur, a ghost, an afterimage. It coalesces into Carolina, and he steps back, swatting at thin air in front of him, as if she's vapor to beat away. "Good lord, I don't need that right now... Look, you were part of a project before, and it went wrong, and that's terrible, but you're not a science experiment, and nobody is continuing this project on you."

"Wow, rude." Even if he's trying to make a point that's nice- he'd clung so hard to Carolina, been so good about seeing her during the drift and right after this is- a little unexpected. Then again Mal's got his own brain. Maybe it is too much. Still York's taking a half step back, Carolina following after.

"What makes people drift compatible, in theory? Brain chemistry. Mine is kinda fucked up. Maybe they're trying to salvage it, I dunno. I don't care. THey aren't sticking needles into my spine so it's no skin off my back if I just have to talk to someone every day."

"Okay. Fine. Whatever you want. Whatever is normal to you. Whatever you think helps. Why did you have to drag me out?"

Cover them? Well, there are glamours for that. But that's a lesson for much further down the line. "Weren't you planning on debunking rather than encouraging?" She asks instead. It is something of a change of heart, and might net a far different audience than the one he's been used to. But he's been an attentive student, and her tail curls up, coy as she is not.

If this is a means to educate, however.. "Do sites you might recommend as an alternative offer bounties or, or, paid services if you send custom their way?"

"Oh. Uh. You seemed like you were getting irritated? I'll just..." There's no way to salvage this, is there? No. No there's not. Time to bail.

"I'm gonna. Go." And he turns on his heel to head down the hall. His room sounds like a good idea. SLeep for the next few days. yeah.

"...i sort of- I still WRITE those and do one video like that out of four but- these get more interest. And money." Skeptics abound in both areas but the people that actually practice tend to be more willing to share their wealth. He appreciates that.

It's a pretty solid question, that. One he hadn't really considerd. "Endorsement deals? I don't know, but it wouldn't hurt to look into that before I do that video."

"You were being--" Rude, obnoxious, irritating? But York's walking away. Fine. Let him walk away. Time apart will be good for them. He turns, and Carolina seems to be doing that leaning on a wall thing again, watching York leave. Malcolm stalks past. Should've just stayed in the mess and maybe tried to weasel another dessert out.

Room. Sleep. That's the plan, that's what he does- and she actually doesn't follow him. It's- lonely and it's nice. To actually be able to sleep without her being there.

Of course that doesn't mean D isn't there to try and jabber at him about this that or the other but he's gotten used to tuning him out.

"It's not the chocolate I'm worried about."

Her voice carries clearly enough, meaning any intruder would be easily detected - they wouldn't be able to stage a kidnapping without someone hearing something either way. It doesn't take her long to finish checking that things are in fact exactly as they seem, and it's an arched brow at York when she hears his exclamation.

Then looks down at the offerings, carefully arranged on black paper. Then back up at York.

"I thought you didn't care?" Then, an idea occurs to her. ..she shouldn't, not when he's technically her client, but he could use a distraction from the worst of the day's events now the high is wearing off. She shrugs at him, seemingly unconcerned, And, as if to underscore such an attitude, she picks up one piece from the selection - a rather upstanding example of erectness - and, far too casually, places its length in her mouth, lightly closing her lips around it.

"I don't care, I just don't know which one to start wi-" He doesn't cut himself off so much as snap his mouth shut, watching her enjoy one of the chocolates. They aren't quite life sized, thank god, but it's enough of a visual to make him go red and his mouth to dry out and-

Delta will kill him. Delta will murder him and no one will ever find the body. Delta will GLEEFULLY peel the skin from his bones.

Nope that reminder doesn't do anything as a low, inarticulate noise that might be a whimper spills past his lips. Right. Turnabout, fair play? Yes. Yes good. He plucks up a flat, feminine form and runs his tongue over the surface, playing a little with the molded folds. Because he's that kind of an ass.

He'd go to his room, but what would he even do there, sleep? Already had some, thanks, not looking forward to dreams tonight. Gym, then. Beat at a punching bag. Ignoring anyone else there who might stop to look at him. Get energy out. Practice. Move. Kick.

When stances, moves, motions that aren't his seep in, he gets unbalanced and ends up on the floor from someone else's footing that doesn't work on his body, his reflexes. Huffs on the floor until he picks himself up and goes again. He will keep going until he's sure he's himself. Or at least reasonably sure he's himself. At least he's got some energy out.

WIth d bugging him he can't sleep so he leaves. Goes for a run around the dome, see if that helps. Sits and stares at the ocean for a long while and considers getting a boat but- that's not him. He never thought about sailing before, it didn't matter. It wasn't a thing.

Calls his mother, that usually helps. She's proud. Worried and proud. Talks to his dad. Takes his medication. Goes to the gym to lift weights because sparring isn't happening today. And there's Mal, falling the fuck over using Carolina's stance.

Wow.

He has to slowclap from where he's sitting, weights at his side.

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