albinomilksnake | OPEN RP PART II: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

It's not that simple anymore. It's not just about--

[It hadn't been that simple in a long time. But he won't say that. He does meet her eyes after she tries to comfort him -- its hard to tell if she had any effect.

But then he reaches up again with a very slow exhale. He can do this.]

Look -- you're right. This isn't your problem.

Could be. [She ducks down into the skid of his fingertips. Lets them roll against the contours of her face.] But I get the feeling you don't want to let me in.

Trust.

[He shakes his head gently and continues to give in. She's right about this, at least.]

That's what it comes down to.

You know I trust you, John. I gave up my life for you. [And despite the literal implications, in this case she means what she used to be entirely, the only thing that made her feel like she had a part to play-- a place to belong-- in this great, wide, limitless expanse.]

[Of course, John takes it quite literally -- he has no perspective of where or when she's from, so when she decides to bring up her death, his stomach drops and he falls utterly stiff and silent again.

He doesn't want to commit to inform her of her own death, so he says nothing. His body betrays the knowledge well enough. The corners of his eyes continue to shimmer, and he tries to disguise the wipe of his eyes as best he can.

She wouldn't use that against him. She must not know -- right?]

I know.

[His voice cracks.]

[She's not good at this. Emotions are an entirely new concept, and talking about emotion is even more so. There's too much pressure that she might say the wrong thing, switch to the wrong topic.

Somehow it feels like she already has.]

Or...[It's slow; she knows better than to make the suggestion.] You could stay.

Can't stay. Too much at stake.

[She did say the wrong thing, but Crichton has accepted that it is because she doesn't know any better and not because she was trying to hurt him. So he tries to settle back in her hands, letting his eyes close.]

Probably shouldn't have come in the first place.

I think I can agree with that. [Aeryn slides back, hands on his chest as she sits upright.] Hoaxes and conartists don't suit you; we've had too much of them already.

Had to try.

[He lets his eyes open again, shaking his head just a little.]

Found what I wanted. Just didn't get the answers I was lookin' for.

[John's smile is forced, even if some part of him is happy to see that Aeryn still cares.]

Dead folks don't have perspective on the present...past only.

I don't know about that. [She's smoothing out the edges of his jacket, more focused on that than what he's forcing out from some sort of residual feelings of obligation.]

Maybe its just me, then.

[--whoops. Too much info. It sort of slips out in his comfort, but part of him expects Aeryn won't pick up on the implication of his death.]

Lousy luck.

You always had an abundance of it before, why stop now? [She doesn't. Whether that's for better or worse it's hard to say, because it keeps her focused on the bottom line of this conversation.

On him.]

Come on. You need to go.

Wish I could tell you, but I don't know.

[He ignores her insistance. Flying back to Moya now would just ensure more questions from the crew, considering recent events. He wasn't ready for unsolicited advice just yet.

He remains guarded, but the walls are peeling themselves down. He can't burn off the edge without help and she's right there.

With the image of Earth fresh in his mind, John misses beer quite suddenly.]

Puttin' me in the dog house? Ouch.

Never. But the longer you stay, the harder it's going to be to leave. [It's broken by a lengthy microt of silence before she adds, earnestly:] For both of us.

Well Dorothy, do you even know where you're supposed to be right now? Sounds like you're a long way from home, little lady.

[It takes some effort, but he turns on his side to look at her, eyelids half drawn. The color in his skin is beginning to return.]

Edited 2014-06-23 07:36 (UTC)

Not as far as you think. [The color is a welcome change. Aeryn slides the back of her knuckles across the underside of his jaw just before she reaches across him, tucking him well under the hotel's less-than-ideal blanket.] You don't need to worry about me.

Not as far as me.

[John manages a meager smile again, and chin tips just enough to rest his lips across her knuckles.]

You know how it is...human nature.

Never as far as you. [Blunt, and teasing despite that fact. Her thumb rides the contours of his lower lip, tracing it out without effort or thought.]

No, I don't know human nature - and as long as I've known you, John Crichton, I don't think I want to.

Well, lucky for you, there's no basing human nature off me.

[Its hard to forget what happened when his friends were brought to Earth, with the images so fresh in his mind. Part of him is still disappointed that America didn't want to share his discovery with the rest of the planet...that they would willingly plunge everyone into ignorance.

It was all he could do to pray that the Scarrans nor the Peacekeepers would ever find that wormhole.]

Turns out I'm less like the rest of my species than I thought.

Credit to them, then. [Zing. No rest for the weary, you broken-down human, you.]

No no, you've got it backwards.

[It works a more genuine chuckle out of him anyway.]

I like to think I'm the ideal image. Don't you?

Are you sure you want me to answer that?

Edited 2014-06-23 10:19 (UTC)

Maybe if I had a shot or two in me, I'd be more prepared.

You're out of luck, then: I'm not making a run for any. [And at that she pulls away from the scuff of his mouth, patting his chest once for good measure.]

See? Told you. Lousy luck.

[His head sinks into the mattress when she pulls her hand away, but he doesn't chase her.]

I paid for the night. I'll leave tomorrow.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject