[Majima rolls up his socks and jams them into the toes of his shoes, then rests them against the inner jaw of the skull. When Ros tells him to turn around, he opens his mouth to question it until her hand goes for her skirt. He quickly spins to face toward the jungle, his feet dangling over the ridge of the skull's teeth.
He looks out over the canopy as he starts to unbutton his shirt. The cave isn't so high up that he can see past all of the trees, but the view is still mesmerizing-- the moon is mostly full over the basin the cave rests in, reflecting down on the water. The light bounces off the surface and ripples across the ceiling, while strange bird calls echo out from the darkness. Majima tosses his shirt over his shoes and looks down into the lagoon. It looks bottomless from up here, and the thought crosses his mind that it might be dangerous, but it doesn't stay there long. He stands up and plants his feet on two separate teeth.]
[He's very polite, turning his back the moment he understands why she asks that of him. It's a little rude to return that politeness with an open stare, but nonetheless, that's what Rosalind does, staring with interest at the tattoo that spans his back and creeps over his shoulders. It extends past his trousers, and before she can stop herself she wonders how low it goes.
Which is a ridiculous thing to wonder.
Her stockings are set over her heels, and Rosalind shivers as her bare feet hit the ground. She's still in a skirt and blouse, but she feels dressed down.]
Yes, thank you.
[She doesn't glance over at him as she comes up beside him, very much aware of the fact he's in naught but his trousers.]
Age before beauty, I'd say, but I beat you on both counts. Go on.
[If Majima feels her eyes on him, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't mind her seeing the tattoo. Not only does she have no idea what it means, he was wearing nothing but shoes and trousers the first time they met, though he had a few more bruises.
When she climbs up next to him, he snorts and tightens his ponytail.]
Tell me how you really feel, doc.
[He would have gone first anyway, to check for danger, even if he's not on the clock. Majima checks for anyone below him, takes a deep breath, then dives from the rock.
The drop is about ten feet, so there's a few seconds for his heart to fly up to his throat before he breaks the surface of the water with a smooth splash. When he opens his eye, all he sees is murk, but the force of his jump propels him deep enough to brush his fingers against the silty bottom of the lagoon. Majima twist in the water and sets his feet down, lingering in the quiet dark. The water is just the right temperature-- cool enough to relieve him, but warm enough to feel like a bath.
It feels like his first still moment in months, and the weight of everything that's happened nearly catches up with him, until his lungs start to constrict, and he swims for the surface. Ros can see him pop up with an over exaggerated gasp before he lets out a breathless laugh.]
C'mon, you're gonna wish you were uglier in a second!
[She hesitates. It's disgustingly hot and humid, and leaping into that lagoon sounds nothing short of blissful, but she isn't in the habit of doing something so undignified-- especially in front of a man she barely knows. It's one thing for him to leap around in almost thing; it's another thing entirely for her to get soaking wet. Clothes or no, he's going to see a lot more than she usually permits.
. . . but it's unbearably hot, and it's not as if he's been leering over her the past few months. Rosalind glances back towards the camp, but no, no one's near. And it's not as if her actions of last month have had any lasting repercussions-- god, no, she's about to start a business with someone, no one cares, no one cares, so she hardly has to hesitate--
Oh, fuck it.
Biting at her bottom lip to keep from yelling, she slips off the ledge, falling feet first into the water. She sinks immediately, the water closing over her head; for a long few seconds she lingers there, shivering happily. The water feels fantastic, cooling and cleaning her all at once; she reaches behind her, tugging at her braid to loosen it so she can run her fingers through her hair.
When she surfaces, it's with a soft gasp, a counterpoint to his own exaggerated inhale. There's just enough light from the moon that she can see him, and she offers him a wry smile.]
I haven't gone swimming since I was a teenager . . . good thing I still remember how, hm?
[As he treads water, Majima can't help but wince at Ros' decidedly less graceful landing, but he grins when she pops up again. It's hard not to, with the way her hair clings to her like matted seaweed. Even when running from dragons, she'd made herself look painfully dignified at all times.
He swims a bit closer to her, spitting some stray lagoon water from his mouth, trying to rid it of the brackish taste.]
You probably shoulda mentioned that before takin' the one story jump into strange water.
[But that's half the fun of risk, isn't it? He pushes back some loose strands of his own hair and watches her keep afloat, her skirt starting to billow up around her.]
Been awhile for me, too. Got good muscle memory, though. [A bit of sarcasm lilts his voice, but he still smiles.] Nothin's grabbed my feet yet, though, so I think we're in okay shape.
Let's just hope if there is anything, they realize you'd make the better meal.
[She's fighting a losing battle with her skirt, she realizes, but she's not about to shed it just yet. Nor will she shed her shirt, though she's a little aware of how it's clinging to her skin right now.]
But come, now. If you're my part-time bodyguard, surely that covers drowning situations. Are you saying you wouldn't rescue me if I'd found I'd forgotten how to swim?
[Majima turns in the water and starts to float on his back, his arms stretched out from his sides and his feet lazily kicking him by Ros. Even as the water bobs around his ears, he still hears her, and scowls.]
'Course I would. [He'd do it whether he was paid to guard her or not, but he doesn't admit that.] Can't go gettin' a bad rep for the job. But what I don't get-- [Majima stops kicking, and just floats as uselessly as a log around her.] --What do you need a guard for when you can just pop half a mile away?
[She turns in the water, keeping him in her sights. But when he asks that, her smile fades. Rosalind kicks her way over to the side of the water, one hand holding on to the wall so she doesn't have to keep treading water.]
. . . you can fight with your hands, but you still carry a knife. Why?
I've seen you fight. You could do just as well solely with your fists, I've no doubt, unless you were up against someone truly spectacular-- and even then, you could give them a run for their money.
. . . but you carry it anyway, for-- among other reasons-- insurance. It's best to be overprepared than risk anything, correct?
[She had a point, okay, she hadn't just asked him that for fun. Rosalind pushes her wet hair back, one arm then crossing over her chest just a touch self-consciously.]
I could teleport away, you're right. But not instantly. Not if someone snuck up on me. I've no power over time, not anymore. And all it would take to kill me is one knife or bullet I hadn't seen coming.
. . . and it's an exhausting power here. I can't travel like that forever.
[Majima stares up at the moon as he continues to drift along. The question was her being cryptic, then. He should've figured. When Ros compliments his skill, though, Majima can't stop a smirk from flickering across his face.]
You're talkin' to the wrong man about risk, but I get what you mean.
[He lifts his hand and lets it drip water on his face to keep it cool. So, if he's reading this right-- the power she had is gone, and that spooked her. She'd never acknowledge fear, knowing her for even as short of a time as he has, but he wouldn't call it weakness in that case. Losing control after feeling on top of the world; what other way is there to react?]
Wouldn't've grabbed you like that if I knew, y'know.
[And she does know, actually. She might not grasp all the ins and outs of his personality just yet, but he isn't sadistic.]
Don't misunderstand. I'm not just jumping at shadows. There's two people from my world who'd very much like to see me dead again, should they wake up. I've a knack for making enemies.
[He lets himself sink and swims to join her on the outer wall of the cave. A few meters away, a hubbub breaks out as some other refugees manage to catch some fish in the shallows. It just reminds him how hungry he is, so he sucks his teeth and returns his attention to Ros.]
But who's puttin' scientists so high on their hit list?
[Her eyes flit over him as he approaches, an instinctive reaction she hopes he doesn't notice in the darkness. For all she's seen and done, for all she's had her fair share of men (and women, now, too, a thought that still thrills her), it's still shocking to see Majima swimming around her with not much on. She can't help the way her gaze traces over the line of his shoulders and collarbone, the way his hair clings to his skin . . .
It's nothing more than a moment's glance, but it's still there. But god knows that question snaps her out of it; Rosalind smiles thinly.]
It's a bit of a story.
[She pushes her hair back.]
But the long and short of it is that I knew too much and ceased to become useful to a very powerful man, and I paid the price.
[It's easy for Majima to forget sometimes that Ros is from eighty years before his time, not to mention halfway around a world that no longer exists. Pants in the water make him overdressed, as far as he's concerned.
But his eye is elsewhere, too, trying desperately to avoid Ros' by now transparent shirt. When she moves her hair away from her neck, she moves just right to let the moonlight make contact with her slick skin. She's as pale as always, but it gives her an ethereal glow much more suited to the immortal being she claims to be. It draws sharp lines on her face, highlighting the splash of freckles there and the confident set to her brow. That's all unusual where he comes from, but Majima finds he's gotten particularly used to being around her. Comfortable, even.
Majima rests his feet on a precipice along the cave wall just under the water, and returns his gaze back to the lagoon and the fringe of the jungle on the opposite shore.]
[Her hand drops to her neck, her arm crossed over her chest in a halfhearted attempt at modesty. She'd be a fool not to realize why he's suddenly averting his gaze, but there's nothing for it now. She'd known what was going to happen the moment she leapt into the water-- and frankly, there's worse fates.]
Zachary Comstock and Jeremiah Fink. The former paid off the latter to make ou-- my death look an accident. The former was motivated by fear; the latter by greed.
[That's the second person who has, upon hearing those names, promised to protect her. Likely there'd be a few more if they'd heard the story-- Jon certainly would, chivalrous boy that he is, and she assumes Aranea has grown fond enough of her to feel the same.
She wonders why.
At least Majima she can explain: he's at least partially motivated by money, which she's pleased by, because it makes sense.]
And with twice as many eyes.
[It's a dry joke, said more to cover her confusion than anything. Rosalind's fingers play at her throat, the tips sliding against damp skin.]
[Ironically, taking pay from her since they returned from Wyver the first time has stoked up some guilt in Majima's conscience. Stuffy as Ros can be, he likes her. She's sharp as a razor, and any time she appears, it's almost a guarantee something interesting is about to happen.
In throwing himself into this new world, Majima hasn't gotten very close to many of the other refugees. That forces him to confront the reality behind their situation: None of them can ever go home. Ros, however, gets into trouble here, talks about their reality here, and never sugarcoats it. He likes that a lot more than walking on eggshells.]
Y'know, you don't gotta pay to keep me around anymore. I have my job back in Olympia now.
[And his winnings from the fight club, but she already knows about that.]
[Majima quickly rebuffs that notion, shaking his head. She's not one for sentiment, so it's hard to think of a way to phrase it that won't earn him any weird looks.]
[Rosalind pauses for a few seconds, staring at him across the water. The moon is shining brightly enough she can see his expression, and he doesn't look as though he's mocking her.]
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originallutece) wrote2017-09-22 05:41 pm
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He looks out over the canopy as he starts to unbutton his shirt. The cave isn't so high up that he can see past all of the trees, but the view is still mesmerizing-- the moon is mostly full over the basin the cave rests in, reflecting down on the water. The light bounces off the surface and ripples across the ceiling, while strange bird calls echo out from the darkness. Majima tosses his shirt over his shoes and looks down into the lagoon. It looks bottomless from up here, and the thought crosses his mind that it might be dangerous, but it doesn't stay there long. He stands up and plants his feet on two separate teeth.]
You good?
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Which is a ridiculous thing to wonder.
Her stockings are set over her heels, and Rosalind shivers as her bare feet hit the ground. She's still in a skirt and blouse, but she feels dressed down.]
Yes, thank you.
[She doesn't glance over at him as she comes up beside him, very much aware of the fact he's in naught but his trousers.]
Age before beauty, I'd say, but I beat you on both counts. Go on.
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When she climbs up next to him, he snorts and tightens his ponytail.]
Tell me how you really feel, doc.
[He would have gone first anyway, to check for danger, even if he's not on the clock. Majima checks for anyone below him, takes a deep breath, then dives from the rock.
The drop is about ten feet, so there's a few seconds for his heart to fly up to his throat before he breaks the surface of the water with a smooth splash. When he opens his eye, all he sees is murk, but the force of his jump propels him deep enough to brush his fingers against the silty bottom of the lagoon. Majima twist in the water and sets his feet down, lingering in the quiet dark. The water is just the right temperature-- cool enough to relieve him, but warm enough to feel like a bath.
It feels like his first still moment in months, and the weight of everything that's happened nearly catches up with him, until his lungs start to constrict, and he swims for the surface. Ros can see him pop up with an over exaggerated gasp before he lets out a breathless laugh.]
C'mon, you're gonna wish you were uglier in a second!
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. . . but it's unbearably hot, and it's not as if he's been leering over her the past few months. Rosalind glances back towards the camp, but no, no one's near. And it's not as if her actions of last month have had any lasting repercussions-- god, no, she's about to start a business with someone, no one cares, no one cares, so she hardly has to hesitate--
Oh, fuck it.
Biting at her bottom lip to keep from yelling, she slips off the ledge, falling feet first into the water. She sinks immediately, the water closing over her head; for a long few seconds she lingers there, shivering happily. The water feels fantastic, cooling and cleaning her all at once; she reaches behind her, tugging at her braid to loosen it so she can run her fingers through her hair.
When she surfaces, it's with a soft gasp, a counterpoint to his own exaggerated inhale. There's just enough light from the moon that she can see him, and she offers him a wry smile.]
I haven't gone swimming since I was a teenager . . . good thing I still remember how, hm?
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He swims a bit closer to her, spitting some stray lagoon water from his mouth, trying to rid it of the brackish taste.]
You probably shoulda mentioned that before takin' the one story jump into strange water.
[But that's half the fun of risk, isn't it? He pushes back some loose strands of his own hair and watches her keep afloat, her skirt starting to billow up around her.]
Been awhile for me, too. Got good muscle memory, though. [A bit of sarcasm lilts his voice, but he still smiles.] Nothin's grabbed my feet yet, though, so I think we're in okay shape.
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[She's fighting a losing battle with her skirt, she realizes, but she's not about to shed it just yet. Nor will she shed her shirt, though she's a little aware of how it's clinging to her skin right now.]
But come, now. If you're my part-time bodyguard, surely that covers drowning situations. Are you saying you wouldn't rescue me if I'd found I'd forgotten how to swim?
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[Majima turns in the water and starts to float on his back, his arms stretched out from his sides and his feet lazily kicking him by Ros. Even as the water bobs around his ears, he still hears her, and scowls.]
'Course I would. [He'd do it whether he was paid to guard her or not, but he doesn't admit that.] Can't go gettin' a bad rep for the job. But what I don't get-- [Majima stops kicking, and just floats as uselessly as a log around her.] --What do you need a guard for when you can just pop half a mile away?
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. . . you can fight with your hands, but you still carry a knife. Why?
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I asked first.
[There are a lot of reasons. A reminder, a final gambit, a way to inflict more pain.]
One eyed guy has to level the playing field somehow.
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. . . but you carry it anyway, for-- among other reasons-- insurance. It's best to be overprepared than risk anything, correct?
[She had a point, okay, she hadn't just asked him that for fun. Rosalind pushes her wet hair back, one arm then crossing over her chest just a touch self-consciously.]
I could teleport away, you're right. But not instantly. Not if someone snuck up on me. I've no power over time, not anymore. And all it would take to kill me is one knife or bullet I hadn't seen coming.
. . . and it's an exhausting power here. I can't travel like that forever.
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You're talkin' to the wrong man about risk, but I get what you mean.
[He lifts his hand and lets it drip water on his face to keep it cool. So, if he's reading this right-- the power she had is gone, and that spooked her. She'd never acknowledge fear, knowing her for even as short of a time as he has, but he wouldn't call it weakness in that case. Losing control after feeling on top of the world; what other way is there to react?]
Wouldn't've grabbed you like that if I knew, y'know.
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[And she does know, actually. She might not grasp all the ins and outs of his personality just yet, but he isn't sadistic.]
Don't misunderstand. I'm not just jumping at shadows. There's two people from my world who'd very much like to see me dead again, should they wake up. I've a knack for making enemies.
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Now there's somethin' I'm good at.
[He lets himself sink and swims to join her on the outer wall of the cave. A few meters away, a hubbub breaks out as some other refugees manage to catch some fish in the shallows. It just reminds him how hungry he is, so he sucks his teeth and returns his attention to Ros.]
But who's puttin' scientists so high on their hit list?
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It's nothing more than a moment's glance, but it's still there. But god knows that question snaps her out of it; Rosalind smiles thinly.]
It's a bit of a story.
[She pushes her hair back.]
But the long and short of it is that I knew too much and ceased to become useful to a very powerful man, and I paid the price.
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But his eye is elsewhere, too, trying desperately to avoid Ros' by now transparent shirt. When she moves her hair away from her neck, she moves just right to let the moonlight make contact with her slick skin. She's as pale as always, but it gives her an ethereal glow much more suited to the immortal being she claims to be. It draws sharp lines on her face, highlighting the splash of freckles there and the confident set to her brow. That's all unusual where he comes from, but Majima finds he's gotten particularly used to being around her. Comfortable, even.
Majima rests his feet on a precipice along the cave wall just under the water, and returns his gaze back to the lagoon and the fringe of the jungle on the opposite shore.]
Well, can't say that don't sound familiar.
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[Her hand drops to her neck, her arm crossed over her chest in a halfhearted attempt at modesty. She'd be a fool not to realize why he's suddenly averting his gaze, but there's nothing for it now. She'd known what was going to happen the moment she leapt into the water-- and frankly, there's worse fates.]
Zachary Comstock and Jeremiah Fink. The former paid off the latter to make ou-- my death look an accident. The former was motivated by fear; the latter by greed.
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Fink, huh? That's a hell of a name. Guess you're slated to do shady bullshit when you're born with that.
[Majima offers her a grin at such a lame joke, but he almost seems legitimately proud of it. It fades soon enough when he thinks about it.]
Don't worry about 'em, doc. I'll keep an eye out. The other people around can too. Probably for less money.
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She wonders why.
At least Majima she can explain: he's at least partially motivated by money, which she's pleased by, because it makes sense.]
And with twice as many eyes.
[It's a dry joke, said more to cover her confusion than anything. Rosalind's fingers play at her throat, the tips sliding against damp skin.]
. . . thank you. That's a, ah, kind offer.
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In throwing himself into this new world, Majima hasn't gotten very close to many of the other refugees. That forces him to confront the reality behind their situation: None of them can ever go home. Ros, however, gets into trouble here, talks about their reality here, and never sugarcoats it. He likes that a lot more than walking on eggshells.]
Y'know, you don't gotta pay to keep me around anymore. I have my job back in Olympia now.
[And his winnings from the fight club, but she already knows about that.]
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All I did the last time you told me to come over was lift shit.
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Majima, I don't want you to-- you don't need to feel an obligation if you don't want to continue being my guard.
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[Majima quickly rebuffs that notion, shaking his head. She's not one for sentiment, so it's hard to think of a way to phrase it that won't earn him any weird looks.]
I watch my friends' backs.
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Is that what we are?
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--Uh. If you wanna be? Wouldn't be the first time I read the room wrong.
[Hanging out like this, at least, doesn't feel much like bodyguarding.]
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