driftfleet | And We Danced (Masquerade Overflow!)

Oh, familiar. Yeah... I get familiar. [She shakes her head.] Nah. Howl--my plasma blade--got broken when I got thrown out the window. Back in Proles. I managed to get the sword stuck in the wall of the Bifrons tower and the drag helped slow my fall for a most of it, but there was too much heat bleed and the blade snapped off about twenty floors up or so.

[Sigh.] I miss Howl. Sorry these assholes took your swords. I've talked to the Captain about trying to set up some kind of molecular foundry so we can get something quality made since everything I've found so far commercially has been cheap shit, but that's going to be a long term project if an actual forge engineer doesn't show up.

[Oh, and he leans into it. Gosh, he is cute. What's with the tilt on that smile, though? Something familiar about it. She moves her thumb lightly against his cheek, just to say it's okay, but before she can actually say something he keeps talking and... she's just going to take a moment to think about if his fur is normally softer and all over, what that might feel like--

Give her a second. Okay. Focus, Wrath. You just met this nice man. Remember how to be appropriate with people who aren't from your culture.

She's blushing a little, though, grinning.]

Um.

Hopefully some good deep conditioning will get it back to top shape once you've got the dye out. [Look at her, still managing to have a normal-ish conversation.]

[It probably says something about his life that the only part of that he bats an eye at is the fact that she owned a plasma blade. The woman owned a sword that could incinerate people. Trying to hide the naked envy in his expression is more effort than Kurt honestly wants to expend because blazing sword.] You have my utmost sympathy for the loss, and my undying envy for having a sword like that in the first place. If I believed in souls I'd be hard-pressed not to sell mine for one.

If there's any way I can assist you and the Captain in this endeavor, let me know. I.. would sleep more at ease with some kind of weapon. [Other than the poisons he's spent a decent chunk of money on since they arrived, and squirreled away inside his room. They don't work quickly enough, nor is he as much at ease with using them, but it's better than having nothing.

Thankfully, the changing expression on Wrath's face is a more than sufficient distraction from his thoughts. His grin widens slowly, pure mischief lighting his expression. Emboldened by the faint blush, he leans in a little closer to agree, softly.] I certainly hope so. It would be a shame for fur like this to stay in such a pitiful shape.

Oh man, everyone in the mobile infantry had a plasma weapon of some design. Needed something to cut through the armor on the enemy tanks, right? I wonder if we could design some here. The tech is just as advanced... [She wishes she had a plasma sword again. Maybe. And then Kurt could have one too and it would be win-win.] I'll definitely let the captain know. though do you at least have some kind if slug thrower? They're sort of shit, but better than nothing.

I... I'm not supposed to be fighting anyway right now but I figure I can hand to hand about anything that comes at me.

[Oh Mr Kurt oh. This is unfair and she loves it. She's grinning even more, and pets his cheek again since he doesn't seem to mind.]

It really would. A shame for everyone. Um.

Happy to help if you want a hand.

[You know. A hand doing... Whatever.]

Nein. I've found this planet is shit for anything other than poisons. [And this is his way of obliquely inferring that he has said poisons. The more paranoid part of him is twisting his stomach with anxious reminders that he's only been on this ship a few days, and Kitty's year away from the war has softened her--but how much worse will it be if he isn't upfront and they find out later? Worst case, he always makes his own food anyway.]

Poets would write of the tragedy. [He says this while discretely turning his face to press lips against the heel of her hand, brief and light. Kurt has no idea her society's standpoints nor her own comfort (or martial status, but that matters a lot less to him than it should.) Coming on too strong is boorish.] Oh, don't tempt an old man. He might take you up on it.

~~[..Kurt you're thirty shut up.]~~

What kind of poisons? [She definitely doesn't sound angry, though there is a shift in her tone at the question, a hint of her lieutenant voice. That particular thing is ship's business.]

[Okay, this is maybe the first time anyone's kissed her hand like that. She's entirely unprepared for that sort of flirting, and it makes her giggle low in her throat.]

There's no way you're that old. [Kurt, you are flirting with someone 12 years older than you, silly man.] And I'd be up for that. Um. You know. [Sorry, she doesn't flirt well. She just does direct frontal assault. Though she does grin.] I mean, if you think you could keep up with me.

[Wrath no.]

Edited (html correction now that I'm off mobile) 2016-05-05 01:02 (UTC)

[Without visible pupils it's a difficult task to figure out where he's looking, but in the pause the skin around his visible eye tenses and twitches like a man glancing to either side. His voice is softer still when he answers, leaning in with the kind of smile that implies sweet nothings.] Could we wait on a full accounting until we're back on the Windrose? I've no problem with you and the Captain knowing, but I'd rather the rest of the Fleet remain ignorant.

[In the face of a giggle like that, the sweetness in his smile stands no chance of being anything but genuine. She's gorgeous, and the little stumble over her words endearing.] You might be surprised; I have a youthful face. As to whether I could keep up, I think I would greatly enjoy trying.

[That makes sense, his request. She nods.] All right. You can go over it with me and the captain together later.

[Oh. Ooh! Lucky, lucky her. Oh my. And here she'd just been feeling lonely and sad.] Okay, how old are you? [She does her best not to grin, but it shows.] I'll try not to tire you out too bad.

[Why not. He's already close, she's already got her hand on his cheek. She'll try to kiss him.]

Edited (Just fixing my html!) 2016-05-08 12:39 (UTC)

Alright. I'd also like to go over our medical supplies with the both of you; I intend to make another trip before we leave.

[It's probably sad that he has to pause and visibly think about how old he is now.] Thirty.. two? Thirty something, I know that. Keeping track of time fell by the wayside during the last war. And you, dear lady, are entirely welcome to tire me out so long as you'll still respect me in the morning.

[He's still grinning from that when she leans in to kiss him. There's a heartbeat where he freezes, somehow surprised despite the blatant (and a little over the top) flirting. But it's just a second and then he's kissing her, gentle and careful because, well. The man does have fangs.]

I think... I think my doc said I'm forty two? [Shrug. Age is just a number, and she sure doesn't remember 42 years of life, though there's no need to get into all that right now, right?]

[Minor moment of worry on her part when he freezes, because she's not very good at this--well, she's just fine at kissing, but not so great on knowing if it's socially acceptable--and doesn't want to fuck it up. But no, seems to be all right, even if he's being really gentle. She leans into it a bit, just enough to indicate that she means business, cute guy, and to get the impression of those fangs, which...

Later. Could be really interesting later. Don't jump too far ahead, Wrath.

She draws back, lingering for a second on his lower lip. Then gives him an unabashed, please-with-herself grin.] Well, of course I'll respect you. I respect anyone who works hard and is good at their job.

[The sad thing is, she doesn't even mean it quite like that.]

[Oh, hello. Somewhere during all of this his fingertips end up resting on one of her cheeks, the unfurred skin callused but touching lightly, a little hesitant. His hands with their three digits are often strange to feel, though he would never apologize for them.

He's tempted to follow her when she leans back, but--later, possibly. They're in public, and he does intend to socialize a bit more. (Also flirting like this with his ship's first officer could end badly, but Kurt's ignoring that.) Her grin is bright enough that he can't help but smile back, a warm expression for the seconds before it turns impish.]

A gentleman doesn't brag, but I have been told I work hard and take direction well.

[The hands are interesting, but considering she's from a place with extreme body mods and a wide array of artificial replacement body parts, it's more an academic mental note than anything else. It means she ends up resting her other hand on top of his because it feels interesting, and good, and she likes him. Encouragement, really.

(And yeah, doing whatever with a crewmate might be a bad idea but she's lonely, they're not in a warzone, and she's counting on Kurt's ability to be as professional as she is. Work and play are two different things. Guess she'll find out one way or another. It's a learning experience for someone who still has no idea how civilian life works.)

And gosh he has a nice smile. She can't say no to a smile like that (unless it's a command decision).

And oh. Oh! Yep, even bigger grin.]

Looking forward to finding out for myself. [Hell yes, oh yes.]

But you know. Team effort. I never leave a man behind.

[She'll probably be able to feel where the fur starts thinning and fading to skin the same color around his knuckles. Also the silvery ring around his last finger that Kurt himself seems to have forgotten about in favor of stroking his thumb along the curve of her cheek.

(The concept of worrying about tomorrow's consequences is still one that doesn't come easily to Kurt, having lived so much of his life without the guarantee of another day. If he saw something he wanted, he went for it or gave it up for lost. It occurs to him, but like the possibility of not being able to separate work and play, only vaguely.)

His tail swishes through the air when she grins, and he leans in with intent to press a kiss to a corner of her mouth. A smile like that lightens something in his chest, how can he not want to kiss it?]

I'm glad to hear that. [And if the movements of his tail sketching abstract shapes in the air look a little jaunty, that's only the truth.] Even so, I hope you won't mind that I insist on upholding the tradition of ladies first.

[Well, if he's going to stroke her cheek like that, she can't help but turn her face into it. Too many years to make up for, she'll probably never stop being starved for touch. And that little kiss, even better.

Oh, that's right. He's got a tail. And that... um. Perhaps it says something about her that she doesn't spare a moment thinking it's strange, she's more considering all the fascinating possibilities, right up there with the fangs. Lucky, lucky Wrath.]

Well, you're obviously a kind and generous person. [Mental high five for herself.] Lucky me!

[She turns her face a little more to give his thumb a light, teasing nip.] You wanting to hang around here much longer? I'm good for whatever.

And We Danced (Masquerade Overflow!)

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cheesiest icon ever but i gotta

it's perfect

:D

Oh my god Kurt

He thinks he's smooth.

Dorks. Both of them. Giant dorks.