driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Everyone!!!
Broadcast: No
Action: The Iskaulit
When: For the rest of the month

[Now that we've all had time to settle back into our ships, let's see what's going on over on the Iskaulit! For the new folks, there are already a few establishments and projects going on, but there's plenty of room for everyone, either to join in or to build their own thing. So mingle away!]

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. . . Hey.

[She has to shove her hands into her pockets so she doesn't reach out to him. She knows touching him would just be upsetting - that gentleness is suspicious to him. So she won't, can't do it. But it's such a struggle.]

I'm not a good person, okay? I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart or anything. I like you, so it's personal. And I think you like me, so I missed how you were paying attention to me. Most of all I think you kind of understand me. Not many people do.

So you don't have to answer me. But just - know that's why I'm doing it.

[and after a wavering pause, he lifts his chin a little-- a gesture of acknowledgement. and, even more than that, understanding.

he gets it. this makes sense to him, at least. he needs to know the reasoning behind things, the motives underneath, and this is the kind of thing that fits into his thin little worldview. so, he can relax.

he lowers his walls enough to let his shoulders sag, and he compulsively glances over his shoulder just to make sure no one else is around.]

I'm not going to tell anybody that you're hurting.

[That needs to be emphasized first and foremost. Vulnerability makes a person scared; fear makes a person angry; anger makes a person dangerous. He's dangerous enough all on his own.]

It's nobody's business but yours and the people you want to know about it. Okay? If it was somebody else, maybe I'd talk about it, but not you. It'd be like shooting myself in the foot.

So you can hurt as much as you want, you don't have to be strong. And it'll stay a secret. I promise.

[it's a good reassurance. he is particularly good at traveling down the reactionary path to dangerous, and doing so very abruptly.

in fact, it's almost too good. that reassurance answers everything, and that in itself makes him suspicious. he doesn't like being read. he doesn't even like people lingering long enough to attempt it.

...but he's also lacking quite a bit of his usual sense of self-preservation, so he only glances over to fix a sharp, skeptical look on her for a few moments. and then he drops it.

he simply doesn't care as much, right now.

so, when he suddenly decides that he still hates the feeling of being out in the open, turning to head towards his secret panel... he gives a short glance over his shoulder to see if she's going to follow.]

[That, at least, is very easy to answer. She doesn't have to read him closely to know what he wants. He wants to know what's going to happen next.]

[That's what everyone wants when the rug's been yanked out from under them, right? Some kind of stability. Something that won't change too much. Something safe. She absolutely isn't safe, but maybe she's as close to safe as he'll allow himself.]

[So she nods and follows without hesitation. She's here for him, with him, until he wants her to go.]

[she is exactly the sort of safety that he understands. he was born in one unforgiving den of snakes, and finished growing up in another. the soft people that lie and smile and die easily outside are not safe. the sharp ones, brutally honest in both their expectations and abilities, are the sort he feels comfortable around.

so, he digs his fingers between the faceless panels until the loose one pops off of whatever bracket normally holds it in place, and pushes it open enough for her to squeeze through. stepping aside, he waits for her to go first.]

[It's a gamble, letting him see her back. But she does. She does without hesitation, not because she doesn't have any concerns but because she's practiced at not letting them show. She is absolutely, positively a snake, and she knows that, and she's happy with that knowledge.]

[The vents are dark, but familiar. She crawls in and curls up with her knees up to her chest, eyes wide and owlish and glittering in the dark.]

[Coil takes his time. he wiggles the panel back into place once he's inside, sealing out all the light save for little bits coming in from the hallway through another nearby vent, and pauses there. just listening.

then, he takes a moment to climb up the latticework of inner wall-workings and disappear into the darkness above for a minute or so. probably watching the hall through whatever means he'd watched her earlier. and only after he is completely satisfied that no one else is snooping around in the hall, he climbs into the duct to join her.

it's terribly dark without the little magical lamp he'd created before, but he's easy to track by the glow in his eye. he looks her over once from the mouth of the duct, blinking in thought... before he moves to scuttle past her, heading deeper.]

[For a moment she's worried he's going to leave her behind. Worried, but not actually scared. She can leave if he doesn't come back. She can just go. That will be her answer - that he doesn't want her here.]

[But in the end, he comes back, and moves forward again. It's almost as though he's looking to show her something.]

[Again, she doesn't hesitate - she just crawls after him as quickly as she can.]

[he doesn't go terribly far, but the path is complicated-- especially when the view is so limited. he takes certain branches one way or another through the ducts, passes over the hallway once, (which she can verify by looking down through the vents,) and pushes out a certain grating that lets them into another set of inner chambers.

it seems to be an arbitrary place to stop, but he suddenly decides that this is the place to park and hang out, and charges up another little metal bolt to offer light. the thing sizzles to life like a tiny flare, and he sets it off to the side as he sits down properly.]

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