thisavrou_ooc | ( tdm 12 )

Entry tags:

*tdm

( tdm 12 )

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leavin’ on a jet plane
"Don’t know when I’ll be back again."

ABOARD THE MOIRA

The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay.

Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. Any questions you might have would be answered in a straightforward manner as well as an explanation about how the Ingress, the thing that has pulled you onto the Moira, is broken and bringing people here unintentionally. This process also consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand or wrist with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters.

Whether adjusting to space travel has been difficult or not, there is always something to be done. From working to leisure, the Moira offers a multitude of opportunities to get to know your crewmates a bit better. Exploration of the ship is highly encouraged. You may notice a slight change in the artificial gravity every once in awhile; however, more noticeable changes can be found in overall morale of those of the crew.

☄ on your own

There are plenty of other communal areas on the ship to explore! Pick a place, and see where it takes you. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

The day begins normally. Or almost.

The Moira has accidentally fallen along the trajectory of an asteroid barreling its way through space. While most things like this are not uncommon, and the ship is far from any potential danger of collision or risk of debris damaging the exterior, there is something particularly odd about this specific occurrence. The rock itself appears to give off a strange light that is both eerie and alive. Often, if looked at in just the right manner, it will shift colors; so, while one person sees one side of the spectrum, someone else could see something entirely different. At first, things continue on as they usually do aside from the glowing asteroid alongside the Moira, but as the hours go on, that does not seem to be the case.

☄ the hours are breathing
resignedly beneath the sky the melancholy waters lie
With a rather open view of stars and space, thanks to the skylight above, the pool in the rec area suddenly comes alive beneath the light of the asteroid filtering in. Perhaps it’s some natural response to the chemical composition of the water, or perhaps it’s magic. Yet, regardless of the explanation, those who happen to take a dip suddenly find themselves plagued by despair. The depression and melancholy are not subtle changes either; it slams into you with great force, like a punch to the gut. The longer you remain in the pool, the deeper it grows, like an all-consuming paranoia that settles into the back of your mind and causes your heart to grow heavy. These strong feelings will eventually fade if you choose to leave the pool and dry off, but as long as you remain damp from the pool, those emotions will continue to linger. Even after you’re completely dry, there will be no mistaking just how intensely you felt or why. There is no explanation and might not be. Would you dare a second swim to test whether or not it was a fluke? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

☄ those who have crossed
the eyes are not here, there are no eyes here
The walls are shrinking in. Every room you step into feels much too small, like there isn’t enough room to even breathe. A crowded place becomes startlingly empty, and no matter how much you run, how much you explore, there is no one there to comfort you or answer your calls for help. Hallucinations run strong between the lulls of obscene loneliness or claustrophobia, and exposure to the glow of the asteroid is really the only thing to thank for that. You’re desperate to claw your way out of the ship—open the emergency hatch in the Cargo Bay, bust the glass of the Observation Deck. What’s worse is that it’s not just you. It’s catching, and the fear of being next is very real. It feels like you’re being watched, that everyone around you is looking and seeing everything you are. Or are not. The only way to make it stop is to admit that you’re afraid of being seen, but who, in the deep madness of the self, has the courage to ever admit the truth? ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

☄ the sun in flight
rage, rage against the dying of the light
Something has drifted its way onto the Moira from the outside. Unlike the faint luminosity they give off, they suck up all the light around them, making them the only source to see by. From far away, they are just flitting balls of light, but if you get close enough to inspect them, they are mean. And have sharp, sharp teeth. Go poking, and they will bite you before trying to fly away while taking that only light source with them. The option to avoid them is quite easy if you’re not the curious sort, but without them around, it will be impossibly dark. As the asteroid moves on in the opposite direction of the Moira, these light creatures begin to dissolve and fade away with it. However, a word of caution: their bites glow. If you don’t manage to find the one that bit you and capture it between your hands, the bite will become a permanent glowing fixture of your body. ( These scenarios can be used as in-game canon. )

OUT OF CHARACTER INFO

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Church doesn't protest this time, doesn't question it or argue. He believes her - that he's someone different to her, even if he's not. So he can let himself have this. They've never been good at talking anyway.

He kisses her, eager and just as excited. His hands move out from under hers, grabbing at her thighs, then hips, waist, ribs, a grope at her chest, and finally settle on her arms, his fingers digging into her skin just a bit. He wants to be sure this is real. That she's real and in his arms. This whole experience, the Ingress, the Moira, ... Everything is surreal. But she's here. She's real.

And shit he's got to focus or he's going to lose it with how she's touching him, how she's grinding and kissing him. Fuck. He missed this. He loves this - loves her.

The roaming of his hands shows that he's finally entered into it and she responds by removing her shirt. Slowly the dance begins—touch, kiss, pull away enough to remove some article of clothing, press together again. Finally they're both nude and she pushes him back and rocks herself down onto him, eager to feel that rush that comes with orgasm—so sensitive, so heady, so ripe. She moves with him, she moves with him, she moves with him, and oh, the touch of his hands, skin against skin, and the feel of his cock; the sensations overwhelm her and she's not one to make noise like this normally but she feels almost like she owes it to him to prove she knows it's him and she grips his shoulders and throws her head back and moans his name. She rides it out, and lowers her gaze again, and then she lays on him to kiss him.

He follows her lead, letting her move him and use him to her heart's content. He keeps his hands on her, keeps his lips in contact with her skin as much as he can. And when he comes, riding out his orgasm with her, he digs his fingers into her hips, ~~has an anxious thought about if these cloned bodies can get pregnant~~, and chokes out her name.

It takes him a minute to respond to her kisses, his nerves still buzzing and his mind still slow, but he's happy to oblige, and moves his lips against hers, his arms shifting to wrap around her torso, holding her close to his chest.

So much better than talking.

Her breathing slows and she props herself up on her elbows, resting them on his shoulders. She tucks her hands under her chin and smiles down at him. "Good talk," she says.

"Great talk," Church counters, grinning up at her. He moves his hands to gently knead at her thighs, wanting to stay close, not wanting to leave ~~ever~~ yet.

A pause, fishing for something to say that isn't sickeningly sappy, then, "You can't get pregnant, right?" He asks, blurting out the question. Fucking smooth, asshole.

"I'm on birth control," she says. "Doc Yewll is pretty efficient about stuff like that." She tilts her head a little, watching his face. It's nice to see him smile, but she still has to get good and acquainted with his new face.

She brushes her fingers back along his ear. Not his new face. She has to stop thinking that. She slowly winds her fingers into his hair and closes her eyes as she leans in for another kiss. Whatever's going on, it's a new start for him, and she's coming to respect that.

Church opens his mouth to say something more, but he stops when she touches him, and nips at her lips when she leans in to kiss him.

"What do I look like?" He asks a minute later, breaking their kiss and dropping his head back against the bed. "Because I haven't seen a mirror since I got here." Odd question to start out with, but he's curious. Sue him.

She opens her mouth, about to give a description that compares him to the clone of Adrien he was in before, but of course that will give him no context. She hesitates and rubs his cheek. "Asian. Dark skin." She smirks a little. "Good strong jaw line. It's pretty hot. Makes me want to chew on it." Which she may as well, since she said it. She drops her head down next to his neck and nibbles a short row of bites along his jaw, interrupted with little licks to soothe the skin. She's only taken the morning off but now that they're here, she just wants to spend the whole day fucking his brains out. Partly an effect of staying celibate while he was gone, she supposes.

He can live with that. If she finds him hot, that's all that really matters. ... Mostly.

He tilts his head to allow her better access, letting out a pleased hum. He shifts a little under her, then moves to get his hands on her ass, groping as she kisses him. He'd definitely not complain if they stayed in this bed all day.

She whimpers, landing a harder bite on his jaw, shifting her hips against him. She's not really surprised he seems to be ready to have sex a second time, and she's certainly not protesting. Reunion. It's going better than she could have imagined, really. No need to sort things out, just...give in. This time she's rougher with him as they make out, more passionate, nipping harshly, holding on tighter, pinning his wrists over his head.

And once they're done pleasuring one another again, she sags back, rubbing his sides, crawling off of him to kneel between his legs. Her hands glide from his belly to his thighs to his knees and she sits there, letting her breathing slow to normal. She's taking him in more fully now, not just looking at his face but at his body. His complexion is smooth and unbroken by scars, and though his body isn't anywhere near as fit as her own, he's not in a condition where she would consider him in bad shape. Unconsciously, as she looks him over, she's wearing a soft half-smile.

Since the time she had learned Church—the Alpha—was being tortured, she had felt a certain responsibility toward rescuing him, toward setting things to rights as well as she could. She didn't know him, she only knew of him. Whatever memories of Church she had had upon her creation had been messed with by the Director, left vague and indistinct. So her introduction to him, when she found him a hollow shell of an AI, was really the first time they spoke in her memory. Still, there was something about him that made her want to be near him, and the fact that she couldn't rescue him that day had always haunted her.

Their first real acquaintance had taken place, then, when she had found him in Blood Gulch, and she had made the conscious choice not to break his illusion that he was a ghost. But that choice meant there was a distance between them that was impossible to bridge. She had allowed him to make references to her being his girlfriend without protest, but that didn't change the fact that he didn't know what she truly was to him. He couldn't know.

Until Wash came along. Wash did what she couldn't do for Church, and Wash's interference meant their last encounter, joining in the mind of the Meta, happened with Church no longer ignorant. She hates so much about the Ingress and this universe, but the fact that it was here constantly malfunctioning meant she and Church had been given a chance they never would have had otherwise. Becoming acquainted for real, getting to know one another, and perhaps giving her an opening to see him the way he'd always seen her.

And now, he's here again, having no recollection of the way things went the first time. It's true, what Wash said, though he had been taunting her at the time—it really seems sometimes like someone is orchestrating all of this. Is there an intelligence behind the Ingress's malfunctions? She thinks of the figure she saw inside of it when it had been shut down last month. She had been worried it was Church trapped inside, at the time, but...

Her facial expressions have continued to change along with her train of thought, and now her lip is curled wryly, thoughtfully. She'd had enough of manipulation when she realized that the Director was using them the way he was. She doesn't like the idea that her emotions are being toyed with, that she's only falling for Church because of someone orchestrating the proper circumstances for that to happen. After all, because of her programming, she knows the connection she feels toward Church, the responsibility she feels toward keeping him safe, is ingrained in her in a certain way. It's not something she's going to deny in herself, by any means, but she doesn't like the idea that someone is using that fact to manipulate her.

"Why are you making that face?" Church asks, his breathing still a little heavy. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, then moves to push his sweaty hair away from his forehead. This ... wasn't what he expected when he stumbled out from the Ingress. This definitely wasn't what he expected when he got a text from her. But he's not going to complain. He's just happy to have her, happy to know she's alive and happy (he thinks, at least).

He doesn't have any deep, poetic thoughts. His brain's still a little too fried for that. All he knows is that he's so fucking grateful that they're together again. That they're alive and able to reconnect. Really get to know each other without barriers, without Omega, without the Human-Covenant war, without Project fucking Freelancer. It's just her.

Of course, the Moira will bring its own set of problems, he's not an idiot. He knows shit isn't going to be perfect. But ... it's new. Something for them to tackle together. Together.

Her eyes dart to his face. She's not going to be able to get away with saying it's nothing, gauging by the way he's looking at her. She needs to just say something vague and then move on to something else, something to distract him. "I want this to go right," she says. "There were times in the past where they didn't." Times she couldn't save him. Times she needed to leave him ignorant.Though in a way, that had been the only choice. Which is what she had been thinking about. She looks to the side, not wanting him to see her expression. She rubs her hand across her mouth, then touches his leg. "We ought to get up and get dressed," she says. "I don't know when Matt might come back."

He gives her a look, knowing that that's not the whole story, but he's not going to press it. He shifts, then sits up, not bothering to reach for his clothes yet. "Who's Matt?"

"My assigned roommate," she says. Not theirs because he's not back in this room with her yet, but...she thinks that invitation is probably coming. She's careful to use the word 'assigned' when she explains—she doesn't want it to turn into a misunderstanding.

His face is near hers now that he's sitting up and she continues to avoid his gaze, except after a moment there's a glance in his direction and she quickly presses her lips to his. "Come on. We need to find something to clean up with." And she draws away, and stands.

"Right," he says, his lips quirking to the side. She just fucked you, you're not going to get jealous, asshole.

"Okay, yeah. Cleaning up. Uh - a shower?" He stands as well, grabbing his clothes from where they're scattered on the floor and holding them to his chest.

"Yeah, but we have to get dressed to get there," she says. "We'll have to run and grab you another uniform or something to wear after." She goes to the dresser to get out a couple of bath towels. She's a little amused by his obvious jealousy. "Don't worry about Matt. You'll like him."

She reaches for her clothes after she has the towels folded on the bed and pulls them on, then gets out a fresh outfit. The trip to the Collective ensured she had plenty to wear that suited her a lot better than those uniforms.

Church pulls on his rumpled clothes, trying to smooth out some of the wrinkles. He gives up after a minute. "I'm sure I will," he says, rolling his eyes. But it's ... mostly in good nature. "Uh - and yeah, I can - there should be some in my room, right? Clothes? Uniforms?"

"Yes," she says. They're standing right by each other now, dressed and ready to go, and she tucks her hand under his chin, grasping it and dragging him down for one more kiss. She keeps it brief. The PDA in the mess hall was highly out of character for her and she doesn't intend to go down the hall holding hands or anything dumb like that. So she kisses him that last time, then gestures toward the door with a tilt of her head. She'll probably have to guide him back to his room this time.

Church is perfectly happy to keep the touchy-feely crap on the down low, so he's fine with just a parting kiss and a little smile before he goes to open the door, stepping into the hallway.

And yes, she's going to have to lead him, because he has no idea which way they even came from. He was ... a little distracted.

She does so, and after they retrieve the needed garments she takes him to the communal shower room. She chooses a stall, entering it without a word and waiting to see what he'll decide on—whether he'll join her or choose one for himself. It's a test, in a way—to see just how desperate he is to continue to be around her, considering what all has gone on between them this morning. In any case, she sets her clothes on the bench, looks at him, and puts her hand on the curtain to prepare to draw it closed.

Church hesitates. If they hadn't just fucked each other's brains out, he would've picked a different stall — he doesn't want to be that pushy fucking asshole. But ... they did. He bites his lip, strips, then steps into the shower with her. Fuck it.

She smirks when he steps in with her and she pulls the curtain closed so he can disrobe. The shower is in a second stall through a second curtain behind the bench, and she tugs him in with her after undressing and shuts it. Water on, and—she turns toward him and mashes her mouth against his. This will mostly just be a very wet make-out session, with occasional lathering up to get clean.

Church sputters when she kisses him. Not that he doesn't enjoy kissing her — but they kind of came here for a reason. "Tex," he starts, then huffs a laugh and grins. "Really?"

She doesn't laugh often, but his incredulity draws one out of her. "Deny it was headed there anyway," she says. "Do it. Deny it." But fine, if he wants to get to business. She grabs the cake of soap that's sitting on the little shelf behind the shower head and gets it wet under the stream of water.

Church's grin widens when she laughs. He forgot how fucking amazing that sound is. He practically short circuits, and it takes him a minute to stop grinning like a fucking idiot and reply to her.

"I'm not denying shit, Tex. I'm just, y'know. Trying to keep us a little bit on track," he argues, still smiling.

NSFWish

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