[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.]
[I've never had one before, because being friends with yourself doesn't really count. Robert was guaranteed to like her (love her) (love her, no, she isn't going to think about that). Rosalind shakes her head, feeling clumsy and a little stupid.]
[Majima scoffs good naturedly and rests his feet against the bottom of the lagoon, a bit shallower by the cave wall. A few rocks dig into his heels, but it's better than straining to stay afloat.]
Hell no. I lived in a city, remember? Closest I could get was a pretty big pool. And most of 'em stopped lettin' me in once I started showin' up with tattoos.
[A wicked little idea dawns over him, but he refuses to show it in his face.]
Got kicked out of a few before that for other reasons, though.
[She swims closer, treading water. Where he might be able to stand, she still has to float (and if she knew him a great deal more, she might cling to him instead, but she doesn't and so she shan't).]
More than they oughta be. If you've got one where anyone can see it, you'll be workin' fast food, at best.
[Majima clasps his hands just beneath the surface, but before he can make any moves, Ros gets closer again. The light on the water reflects on the nape of her neck, drawing his eye while he's desperately trying to keep it above her collar.
To distract himself, he squirts water through his fists at her, like he originally planned.]
[She begins that, tipping her head with a slight frown, curious not only about the cultural traditions but Majima himself. His expression had gone odd that last second, his eye darting down, and she almost asks, except then he's splashing her.]
Majima! For god's sake, are you a child!
[And entirely instinctively, she shoves a hand forward, intent on shoving him for that, absolutely forgetting he's shirtless and wet and oh boy but that's a lot of slick skin beneath the tips of her fingers.]
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originallutece) wrote2017-09-22 05:41 pm
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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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[I've never had one before, because being friends with yourself doesn't really count. Robert was guaranteed to like her (love her) (love her, no, she isn't going to think about that). Rosalind shakes her head, feeling clumsy and a little stupid.]
I'd like that, if, ah, if you would.
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Like I said, kinda figured we got there already.
[He smiles as disarmingly as he can, hoping to hell she doesn't read it as condescending.]
I mean, I'll keep what you already paid me.
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[Hey, that's a joke! And she smiles, uncertain but growing stronger, as she recovers.]
Moving on . . . did you do this sort of thing often in your world? Leap into random lakes, that kind of thing?
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Hell no. I lived in a city, remember? Closest I could get was a pretty big pool. And most of 'em stopped lettin' me in once I started showin' up with tattoos.
[A wicked little idea dawns over him, but he refuses to show it in his face.]
Got kicked out of a few before that for other reasons, though.
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[She swims closer, treading water. Where he might be able to stand, she still has to float (and if she knew him a great deal more, she might cling to him instead, but she doesn't and so she shan't).]
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[Majima clasps his hands just beneath the surface, but before he can make any moves, Ros gets closer again. The light on the water reflects on the nape of her neck, drawing his eye while he's desperately trying to keep it above her collar.
To distract himself, he squirts water through his fists at her, like he originally planned.]
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[She begins that, tipping her head with a slight frown, curious not only about the cultural traditions but Majima himself. His expression had gone odd that last second, his eye darting down, and she almost asks, except then he's splashing her.]
Majima! For god's sake, are you a child!
[And entirely instinctively, she shoves a hand forward, intent on shoving him for that, absolutely forgetting he's shirtless and wet and oh boy but that's a lot of slick skin beneath the tips of her fingers.]
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