IC Contact

[mortemscintilla]

ψ messages | ϑ text | ⊕ action

Comments

[sleepingstar]

[Pai arches an eyebrow. You'd hold back with other people? (She's not offended, mostly bemused. In Heaven's War, Hei would hold back with nobody.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Unfortunately, they're not in Heaven's War anymore. The skills and behaviors that kept Hei alive during that era are the same ones that can cause problems in this blood-red playground of calculation and control. He isn't the same destructive force he was in South America -- the sureness of his path so blindingly total. His methods these days are as much smoke and poison as they are dangerous shockwaves. (Perhaps it's because he's learnt -- too well -- that everything has repercussions.) ]

[ With a crooked half-smile, he reaches out through the bars to tug one of Pai's bangs. It glitters as he twines it around his fingers. ]

Sometimes killing the enemy isn't the smart option. Even if it is the easier one.

[sleepingstar]

[Oh really? She makes a little face at him. She always thought Hei was too quick to kill -- not because she has any qualms about murder, but because Hei always seemed to kill to try and spare her, which was ridiculous. Killing bothered him far more than it ever bothered her. She should be killing to spare him.]

Dare. [Answer to the question he hasn't asked yet.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ It might make little sense to a Contractor. But as far as Pai is concerned, Hei's always been asymptotic to logic. He still remembers those days in Heaven's War -- the bloodshed, the repression, the blind vehemence with which he told himself he liked killing. Still remembers the feeling that came over him as the war passed -- was it months or years? -- time didn't move normally for him those days -- the feeling of being pressed under a very large boot that was squeezing every ounce of air from him, and the sense that he was somehow detached from his body and watching himself being inexorably crushed. How, after all, could he describe it to anyone? Or admit that, some nights, as the not-feeling grew worse, he dreamt of killing Pai in her sleep. ]

[ It wasn't out of resentment. But with every kill, Pai floated further and further away from the girl he loved -- even if she didn't realize it. Just as Hei, in his own way, drifted away with her. ]

[ Shaking it off, he summons an almost playful look. ]

Perform an interpretive dance to the music of your choice. It can be here. Or when you get home. [ Dryly, ] I'll expect a recording.

[sleepingstar]

An interpretive dance? [She blinks, puzzled.] I don't know what that is.

[She's heard the phrase, but she has no idea how she'd actually do it.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ That doesn't surprise him. If anything he's reminded of how it felt when he was reinstated into the civilian realm after the war. Half the points of interest, half the trends and events, flew over his head. More to the point, he just found them useless and frivolous. Hei's breadth of knowledge dealt in violence, weaponry and tactics -- everything specific to one talent, one requirement, one goal. Which was fine when he was a soldier. But as a chameleon, he needed a solid padding of normalcy. Pop culture. Books. Games. A lot of it didn't come easy. Often times, It still doesn't. Other parts ... well, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy absorbing something different. ]

[ With a half-smile, he says. ]

It's a style of dance to translate something. A mood. An idea. A story. Like charades, except more dramatic. [ A beat, before he admits, ] It's how I learnt to polish the nuances of body-language.

[sleepingstar]

Will you teach me?

[mortemscintilla]

Never. It's a secret and I don't share with anyone.

[ He still has a hand extended outside the bars. Very lightly, he taps his forefinger against Pai's little nose. ]

Of course I'll teach you. It seems like a kata at first. But it's nowhere near as structured. Think the opposite of a matsubayashi-ryu.

[sleepingstar]

[She wrinkles her nose and gently (jokingly) bats his hand away.)

How do you know if you're doing it right?

[mortemscintilla]

[ There's something to the twist of Hei's mouth, not wry but definitely indulgent as he says, ]

When you don't lose the theme of the dance. It speaks to your audience -- or your mark. [ He sounds a little amused as he says it, like there are things he actively doesn't track anymore. Like the locomotor and nonlocomotor movements before he lashes out in a battle, some things just end up ingrained in your muscle-memory. ] Most people say it's done right when you follow a rubric. But it's really about how well you sell the illusion.

[ True for dancing -- and for everything else. ]

[sleepingstar]

[She nods, but she's hesitant. She isn't like Hei; she's not that skilled in selling illusions. She has the illusion of humanity she maintains for Hei, but that only works because he wants it to. Could interpretive dance help her with that? Or is it something she could never be good at, because of what she is?]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei remembers some old poet stating that all bad writing springs from genuine feeling, and he was fucking right. If you're composed of feeling and nothing but, you'll lose the game. What's necessary is an equilibrium between rationale and hot cognitions of emotion. He's learnt, after a fashion, to strike a balance between the two -- but sometimes he still slips up. Similarly, it'd be easy to dismiss Pai as never being more than what she is. But that's not true. Amber said it herself. The Contractors, the Dolls -- they're all evolving as time passes. Into what, and for what purpose, he isn't sure. ]

[ But it's reason enough not to give up on Pai. She'll never be perfectly human. But in most ways, Hei's lost his claim to that title himself. It's enough that they can live with it -- and have the choice to be who they want to be. ]

[ A beat, before he reaches out to chuck her under the chin. ]

We'll start lessons once I get out of here.

[sleepingstar]

[She smiles at him, just the faintest twitch of her lips, a hint of warmth in her eyes that is forever exclusively for him.]

Truth or dare.

[She could play this game all night. She might, actually, unless Hei tells her to leave. She's slept in worse conditions than this hallway. And she would rather be with him. She has already spent too many nights alone in their apartment; the longest she's ever been alone in her entire life. She doesn't like it.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ He wouldn't mind having her stay the entire night. If anything, he'd welcome it. He feels her attention like thick shimmery drops of some blue syrup -- slipping into the cracks of his psyche, making ragged things ... not whole, but less sharp-edged. It reminds him of the snatches of lulls in the war, when the gunfire and mines would settle into a vibrating silence, when Pai would awaken soft-eyed and calm from her Remuneration, and they'd spent night after night looking up at the false stars together, sharpening each other's blades, scarfing rations, arguing, playing hearts for a penny a point. For a whole half-decade of war, you were my lifeline. You were the reason I stayed sane. ]

[ He doesn't say that. But his smile grows a little -- faraway and fond. ]

Truth.

[sleepingstar]

[Maybe she will, then, unless guards come to kick her out. She skooches closer and leans against the cell bars, leaning her head back to rest on them.

She's asked him a lot of difficult questions tonight. Perhaps she should give him a break.]

Why don't you ever pick dare?

[mortemscintilla]

[ Unpleasant as the prospect is, Hei knows the guards will escort her out eventually. Prisons don't tolerate hangers-on. Especially ones who buzz around dangerous captives. When Pai settles against the bars, he draws closer. Passes both his arms through the gaps, gathering her into a makeshift hug, the cold lines of metal interspersing Pai's warmth. He listens for a moment to her quiet breathing, absorbing her nearness, and wonders if she's trying to be nonchalant for his sake. The very fact that she's not leaving, after all, is a sign that she wants more cosseting than she's consciously letting on. But that's normal. He's never left her alone for so long. Not even on solo ops in South America. ]

[ Between the bars, he brushes his lips against the top of her head. His answer is honest and matter-of-fact. ]

Because I like talking to you.

[sleepingstar]

Or maybe you're just a wuss. [She sticks her tongue out at him, even as she takes hold of his arms to return the embrace. Deciding, subconsciously, that she won't hesitate to kill anyone who comes to take her away.

She is growing tired, though. Instead of prompting him to ask, she simply says:]

Truth.

[After all, a dare would mean he'd have to let go.]

[mortemscintilla]

You try doing something daring in a cell. [ Catching cockroaches. Targeting them with broken slivers of glass. Building tiny catapults out of torn shreds of cloth and bits of wood. Performing narrow acrobatic feats. Doing jumping-jacks on his cot. He's already exhausted a majority of the amusing options. Less than half were successful. ]

[ He feels Pai's weariness gathering. Feels her settling into his grasp, her quiet little voice softening at the edges. He tightens the circle of his arms around her, a warm framework to keep her close. Murmurs, after a pause. ] How are you managing, by yourself? [ It's hard to tell if he's keeping to the rules of the game, or if he's set them aside to ask out of concern. ]

[sleepingstar]

I said truth, not dare. [But if she were in a cell, she would say dare. She'd do it.] And I'm fine. [Not happy. Not pleased. Lonely. Bored. Restless. But she's not unwell, and she doesn't want to give him any reason to worry.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ That, perhaps, is where the siblings differ. Pai will always be more of a risk-taker. Hei fixates too firmly on the functionality of his risks -- except in the moments when he's past caring at all. Her answer is well-modulated. But of course she doesn't need to be sick or unhappy for Hei to worry. His curiosity, his ability to brood over her, is like one of those vast underground rivers that periodically expresses itself in boiling geysers and cave-ins. Just because he doesn't speak up doesn't mean he isn't riddling himself with worries for her every moment. But he supposes -- in some ways -- the same goes for Pai. ]

[ His tone is flat but not unkind when he says, ]

Just one more week. Then I'll be back to bother you full-time.

[sleepingstar]

[Until you take another risk like this again. And once again, not tell her beforehand. She wonders how much of that is his protectiveness, and how much of it is resentment, because she did not tell him about Heaven's Gate.

She yawns a little, and shifts so that she can rest her head on his arm.]

Truth or dare.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei's resentment, while it hasn't dissipated, is much weaker than his protectiveness could ever be. In the intricate tapestry of his minute-by-minute concerns for Pai, it occupies bare wisps of space -- just red threads woven here and there, overlapped too completely by the big picture: Keep her safe. Ordinarily, he's not above scorekeeping. But Pai will always be his exception among exceptions. He hides a smile when she yawns, hitching his arm more securely around her. ]

Dare. [ A gentle concession, and an attempt at variation. ] Just keep it simple. [ Because he's in no mood to let her go. ]

[sleepingstar]

[Of course. Ask for the dare as soon as she starts getting sleepy and feeling less up to something creative. Thanks, brother.]

Send a message to someone, ask them what they're wearing in a sultry voice.

[adding, after a moment]

Make sure it's a guy.

[mortemscintilla]

[ What makes you so sure he didn't plan it that way, sweet sister? His reply isn't reluctant, although he does make a show of rolling his eyes. ] Fine. [ It would be tempting to leave a message to Chekov, just for the sheer horror of his reaction. But Hei's given the young man enough unpleasant shocks to last a lifetime. Instead he leaves the message to someone who'll shrug it off as a random obscenity. Perhaps it's even a petty sort of needling on Hei's part. Who knows? ]

[ When he's done, he offers Pai a crooked half-smile. ]

Happy?

[sleepingstar]

[Pai smiles, almost but not quite giggling.]

Who did you leave it for?