albinomilksnake | OPEN RP PART II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

[Restless dead aren't the only creatures making this planet unpleasant: its living residents are more vicious, more hungry-- often more desperate than the visions of old friends or familiar faces.

It'd been a mistake, coming here.

Not that Aeryn can outright remember the specifics of it enough to properly chastise herself or anyone else. But she's guarded herself (as she always does) against clawing fingers and bloodied grasps, flight suit making the effort as easy as it is difficult (they can't touch her skin, though the cuffs and straps mean getting a solid hold on her is simple) pulling away with a snarling hiss that makes her feel more claustrophobic than anything else. Pries herself from one beggar's grip into yet another.] --get off. Frelling get your hands off of me or you won't have a hand left to beg with!

[John hears Aeryn's voice somewhere behind him, but he's been hearing so many of those since landing that he can't tell what's what anymore. So many dead at his hand -- so many dead that he's made contact with over the last cycle alone.

Its almost like white noise. He pauses, as if checking the reality of Aeryn's distress, before continuing to the next tier upwards.

His hand feels slippery over Winona, like it doesn't belong there as he turns and checks the crowd. No...that had been Aeryn, he was sure of it now. Why did she follow him?]

--Aeryn?

[What she wouldn't give for a pulse pistol right about now--

John's voice, though, is a close second. The fact that he wanders in close shifts the crowd enough to give her space; turns them on him instead which admittedly won't do a weary looking John Crichton any favors.

Still, there's a huffed out sigh of relief.] Oh thank god. I've been working at the comm for arns - no one's responding and I can't tell if it's broken or if Chiana's been ignoring me again.

Shoo. Shoo, all of you! [Without anything in hand, they hardly seem to notice her as they paw hungrily at John.]

Edited 2014-06-19 12:01 (UTC)

[He's covered from head to toe, and so appears mostly unruffled by everyone grabbing at him. There's a telltale click under his robe that gets those closest to him to back off -- he doesn't take the pistol out, though. That would attract more attention than he could handle.

Plus, there was no way to tell if Aeryn had been followed by someone else on Moya, or if the comms were working at all.]

You should be back on Moya.

[A simple observation, rather than a command. He takes only a second to make sure everyone nearby has gotten the hint to leave them alone before continuing up the stairs.

The plan had been to get in contact with Stark and...someone else. He hadn't figured out that second part yet. For now, he's following a voice on the edge of his hearing -- one that stands out amongst the others.]

Believe me I'd prefer it to this place. [Moya. She was on Moya, wasn't she? Like a brief flash of grounding recognition his suggestion jogs her memory. Gives her enough clarity to really look at him.

And she doesn't like what she sees.

Which is why Aeryn moves after him, rather than taking any dismissal. ] John, what's going on? Why are you here?

[There's no answer from him right away -- as he turns the corner, Crichton has that look in his eye whenever he's focused on wormhole theory or discussing Scorpius. Its almost as if he doesn't hear her. Its hard to hear over the noise.

But eventually, her question reaches him, as he's slipping a hand into his pocket for a key.]

Some unfinished business, that's all.

[The door opens after a few seconds of playing with the ancient lock. He doesn't close it behind him -- even if he didn't want to talk to Aeryn right then, he could never actively shut her out.

At least not without the help he reaches for in his pocket once he's out of sight.]

Unfinished business. [Mild, critical, Aeryn doesn't need a flashing indication that John's moving to push her away, but she also doesn't care for being left behind with a dead communicator and half her memories.

With John looking defeated enough to be stupid.

She follows. Goes in to grab his wrist once he's back in her eyeline again. ]

Crichton stop this, [His last name has weight to it; she uses it when everything else feels inadequate. ] we need to go back.

[She jostles him out of being able to finish the full dose he had been aiming to take when she grabs him, making his stomach drop when he finally looks at her -- actually looks at her.

Something isn't quiet right, but he has bigger problems at hand. Either way, there is only an uncomfortable tightening in his arm without an attempt to yank it back. Not yet.]

I'll go back when I'm done down here.

[This time, he tries to pull his arm free. There's a few things scattered on the bed already, most of them pages torn from his various sketchbooks. Names. Star charts. Incomplete formulas. Stark's mask is among them.]

You really should go back. You're uncomfortable.

I can't, no one will tell me where they are-- [Sebacean grip. Stronger than his though it's probably the layered fabric that means John pulls himself from it easily enough, turning Aeryn a few degrees sharper. More angry. She goes for his things instead: the paperwork, the mask-- all of it-- starts roughly gathering it up into her arms.

Frell this.]

[That does the job. He doesn't quiet leap into action as expected when being interrupted, but he does stride over to her after shutting the door and grab her arm in turn, pulling at her insistantly.]

Look, Aeryn. I don't know where the others are either -- probably back a few arns away where we left them. Maybe a little closer if they noticed both of us are gone.

[He won't let go until she relinquishes her hold on his things -- Stark's mask in particular.]

Why did you follow me here?

Edited (autocorrect no) 2014-06-19 19:31 (UTC)

Thank you for your assumptions but I didn't. [She fights him on that front: earnestly trying to keep her hold on his belongings while her stare stays as sharp as her tone. Meaning he only has half his things back by the time Aeryn decides to snap back at him.

--or would have, if not for the way his words dig in and pull another brief set of images from her mind. Following him. Like keywords they echo, stuck in the back of her thoughts as she tries to place it-- why they're relevant. Why he's not wrong. ]

--no, you're right. [It's slower. Gentler. Indirect.] I was following you.

Edited 2014-06-19 19:43 (UTC)

[He's almost happy to hear that she hadn't been following him. Happy and strangely sick. The illness gets worse when she corrects herself.

There's an incredible stretch of silence before he lets her go and strides toward the window to sit there.]

Wasn't lookin' to bring you back here. But if you give me a few arns, I can get us back to Moya after I'm done.

'Back'? [It's practically audible how odd a statement that is to her mind. But then again he might've meant this fekkik-infested hotel, rather than the planet itself. She's too unfocused to think this through properly, Aeryn realizes, watching him pace uneasily across the room.

He doesn't look like himself. He looks like--]

And what is it that you're doing with all of this? More wormholes, more attempts at Earth? [It tears him apart every time he tries, she knows that much.]

[That catches his attention. John's expression appears frustrated for a moment before her words really sink in.]

You...don't remember.

[A realization, not a question. John releases her and chuckles a bit in his usual unhinged manner when something doesn't line up logically in his head.]

Something like that. Not quite.

It's fine. Probably just had too much to drink...somewhere. [Are there even bars in a slum like this?

There's a long beat where she says nothing. Watches him and the line of his profile in evaluation long before she finally speaks up:] Is it Scorpius?

Inside your head. [It's the only time she's seen him this broken down.]

[Man. Talk about having some catching up to do.

But that wasn't really his call to make. Trying to explain what was going on with Scorpius, on top of everything she's seemed to have forgotten...too much work. Too much stress. Too much if a lot of things.

Plus, if she didn't remember being on this planet, then...]

Nah. Scorp's been a little preoccupied.

Good. [This time she's the one taking hold of him, fingers tight and tangled in the fabric of his sleeve.] We're leaving, then.

You don't need this.

Stop--Aeryn, stop.

[The pressure is too much, he hasn't had enough to take the edge of her nails in his sleeve in stride. John tries his best to untangle himself from her. She doesn't know better -- she doesn't have perspective, she doesn't know she's putting them both in danger.

And he's not ready to explain all of that right now. Not when he's come for his own answers.]

You have to trust me on this...OK? I just--I need to be here for a little while.

I trust you. That doesn't mean I'm crazy enough to leave you on your own in a place like this with half the galaxy after you. [Again, he fights her off, but this time Aeryn takes the opportunity of him focusing on her grip to close the gap between them, no more than a few inches away from the line of his profile, angled in towards his features.

She'd fought for him. Followed him.

Fought for him, fought...] Don't shut me out this time.

[He's not emotionally prepared for Aeryn being so close, not strong enough to handle the words that come out of her mouth. Visibly he stiffens and tries to turn his head away from her. The muscles in his neck lock up so badly that tears sting the corners of his eyes, forcing him to advert them and blink it away.

He was told not to push her. He was told to wait. She's run away from him, lied to him, was so innately incapable of trusting him--but here she was, trying to connect with and protect him.

Its backwards. So backwards it hurts.]

Please don't do this to me.

[Its a miracle his voice doesn't crack. His resolve sticks -- though barely.]

Edited 2014-06-19 23:03 (UTC)

[Inevitably, it has the opposite effect. He's retreating, she won't tolerate it, won't abandon him to it. Her palm catches just beneath the edge of his jaw, pulling him back towards her till her forehead is against his-- just barely. Careful, grounding contact that blocks off the option of removing himself from this situation.

If he wants her to go, he'll have to say it directly.] Easy, John.

Easy.

No.

[He cuts her off by suddenly pulling the comm from her jacket and crushing it under his foot without a word. John is breathing a bit heavily -- the dose already feels as if its worn off, sweat sticking to his skin.

Its only shortly afterwards that he reaches up to grab her wrists as if he means to pull her hands away...but he just can't do it.

The destruction of the comm helps sooth his worries, as well as the fact that they were alone in a hotel room. Nobody could watch them here. But if someone found out that Aeryn came after him--

She doesn't know. She doesn't remember.]

No, Aeryn.

What are-- [Her comm. He's shattered her comm. If not for a distinct lack of the telltale Peacekeeper tone in his voice she'd assume it was Scorpius and go for the pistol tucked away at his hip. Nearly does, as her hand twitches sharply in his grip before realizing it's still him. It's still John.

Mostly, anyway.

Which is why her voice drops. eyes flicking upwards to lock with his regardless of the noise outside or how she can still hear the crunch of broken comm pieces beneath his boot.]

You need to tell me what is going on so that I can help. [There's nothing pleading about it.]

[John forces himself to swallow down whatever illness is stirring in his throat. His expression is resolute, even if the rest of him doesn't feel it.]

There's nothing to help..

[But he does know that if he lets Aeryn wander around here like this, she's going to get herself and his child killed. If he couldn't get her back to Moya easily, then she would have to stay with him.]

Do you know where we are?

No, but you do. [It's almost bitter, how tense she is in his grip. There's no pulling away, no fighting him just-- some part of her resents it, how he's keeping her at arm's length in the dark. Logically some part of Aeryn acknowledges it's whatever's screwing with his mind: wormholes or fear or something else entirely.

Has to run that reasoning across the back of her mind like a mantra to keep from snapping.

She doesn't need his protection - he needs hers.]

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