[ by the time they're all allowed to breathe again, and newton is finally taken care of, marta finds her nerves are nowhere near calming. one would think dealing with the aftermath of one of their own's possession and subsequent betrayal would unsettle her enough, but no. now without that issue to deal with, she's left to finally face the aftermath of her own decisions, and though she isn't anywhere close to regretting them... well. somehow she's fourteen years old again, admitting to her first love how much he means to her.
she knocks on the door of his new room, trying to steady her breath. there is resolve brimming the shaky lines of her nerves, but a little bit of that falls away when he opens the door, and she gets her first real good look at him since they've arrived. since the train.
since the kiss. ]
Hi.
[ a few beats of silence follows before she realizes she's the one who came to him in the first place, and she jolts, holding out a small velvet case. inside, he'll find a glass ink pen and a modest vial of black ink. ]
I found it in the supply drop a few days ago and I thought of you, but... [ well. things got busy? didn't they? ] I figured it'd make a good housewarming present anyway.
she knocks on the door of his new room, trying to steady her breath. there is resolve brimming the shaky lines of her nerves, but a little bit of that falls away when he opens the door, and she gets her first real good look at him since they've arrived. since the train.
since the kiss. ]
Hi.
[ a few beats of silence follows before she realizes she's the one who came to him in the first place, and she jolts, holding out a small velvet case. inside, he'll find a glass ink pen and a modest vial of black ink. ]
I found it in the supply drop a few days ago and I thought of you, but... [ well. things got busy? didn't they? ] I figured it'd make a good housewarming present anyway.
[ he hasn't really been allowed the time to actually think about all that went on in that train, not since their immediate return resulted in being occupied with making sure that he could keep a possessed newt alive, especially once he came to realize just how much the protection was warranted after witnessing his own roommate make an assassination attempt.
it keeps him stationed as guard for a time, running on very little sleep except for whatever he can spare when quill takes over on duty, up until the time comes for actually removing those things from newt's mind. from there, it's clara who's stationed at his side, granting her the promise that he'd come immediately if anything happens, with the additional assurance that she's probably as much of a threat to whoever tries to hurt the man in recovery just as much as he would be if he stuck around.
the decision to move to a new room is a no-brainer, taking advantage that a few people have since left the ximilia in the past few months allowing for some spare space for him to get his own. there's very little he needs to move over, just an armful of clothes that he could easily carry in one trip, along with a stack of books that are a mix of his own grabs and some marta had suggested his way.
marta — despite the busy hours of the last several days, it'd be an outright lie to say that she's left his mind at all, even if there's been little time to actually settle in and say anything more than a few words to her with all the rush of the return, between newt's predicament and the numbers of patients checked in to the infirmary. he'd sent her a message about the change in room, with little else added to it, and it's when he's finally moved in with what little he is, taking the time to have a well-earned shower, that he starts to consider what he'd even say.
by the time there's the knock to the door, he's well out from the wash, hair still a little damp but skin dried off and pants pulled on (because the man has learned his lesson). lacking a shirt, there's a few notable scrapes and bruises, nothing drastic and plenty healed by now, but no doubt fresh from the most recent battle on the train. ]
Hi.
[ for a moment, he just looks at her as she stands there, as the rush and chaos all finally begins to slow down just by having her there in front of him, every planned word he'd thought about telling her suddenly gone from his head.
instead, he peers down at the gift she's brought him, the pen bearing a glass with a sort of peculiar glow as it's turned, the light of the room reflecting on it that it almost looks like a songspire leaf — ]
You didn't ... have to. [ which almost feels rude considering, but his lips soften, hinting his appreciation. ] But thanks. [ another pause and then, ] Come inside?
it keeps him stationed as guard for a time, running on very little sleep except for whatever he can spare when quill takes over on duty, up until the time comes for actually removing those things from newt's mind. from there, it's clara who's stationed at his side, granting her the promise that he'd come immediately if anything happens, with the additional assurance that she's probably as much of a threat to whoever tries to hurt the man in recovery just as much as he would be if he stuck around.
the decision to move to a new room is a no-brainer, taking advantage that a few people have since left the ximilia in the past few months allowing for some spare space for him to get his own. there's very little he needs to move over, just an armful of clothes that he could easily carry in one trip, along with a stack of books that are a mix of his own grabs and some marta had suggested his way.
marta — despite the busy hours of the last several days, it'd be an outright lie to say that she's left his mind at all, even if there's been little time to actually settle in and say anything more than a few words to her with all the rush of the return, between newt's predicament and the numbers of patients checked in to the infirmary. he'd sent her a message about the change in room, with little else added to it, and it's when he's finally moved in with what little he is, taking the time to have a well-earned shower, that he starts to consider what he'd even say.
by the time there's the knock to the door, he's well out from the wash, hair still a little damp but skin dried off and pants pulled on (because the man has learned his lesson). lacking a shirt, there's a few notable scrapes and bruises, nothing drastic and plenty healed by now, but no doubt fresh from the most recent battle on the train. ]
Hi.
[ for a moment, he just looks at her as she stands there, as the rush and chaos all finally begins to slow down just by having her there in front of him, every planned word he'd thought about telling her suddenly gone from his head.
instead, he peers down at the gift she's brought him, the pen bearing a glass with a sort of peculiar glow as it's turned, the light of the room reflecting on it that it almost looks like a songspire leaf — ]
You didn't ... have to. [ which almost feels rude considering, but his lips soften, hinting his appreciation. ] But thanks. [ another pause and then, ] Come inside?
[In the end, the team votes to stay. She doesn't like it, doesn't care for the logic behind it. But she can at least abide by the understanding that she's been outvoted and tries to take it in stride. It's hard to do, but she manages. She stays busy trying to help families from the camps reunite. It feels like something she's actually good at.
She's able to blend in, given she has no powers and kept a low profile during the chaos that caused so much destruction. But she finds that no matter how much she helps, she's never satisfied. Something eats at her, discontent growing into actual anger. And one night, when it feels like it's too much, she's grateful that Kovacs reaches out to check in on her.
She doesn't answer his question with an actual statement of how she's doing. She tells him she's on a rooftop to get a front row seat to watch the world burn. And maybe that's alarming enough that he thinks to find her, or maybe he finds it funny. Either way, he ends up climbing up to join her on her rooftop hideaway. And she's content to sit in silence, up until she thinks he may press her to talk about what's on her mind. He knows her well enough to understand when she's wound up. Even if she's trying to hide it.]
Do you ever get the feeling that everything's different now? That there's been a line drawn.
She's able to blend in, given she has no powers and kept a low profile during the chaos that caused so much destruction. But she finds that no matter how much she helps, she's never satisfied. Something eats at her, discontent growing into actual anger. And one night, when it feels like it's too much, she's grateful that Kovacs reaches out to check in on her.
She doesn't answer his question with an actual statement of how she's doing. She tells him she's on a rooftop to get a front row seat to watch the world burn. And maybe that's alarming enough that he thinks to find her, or maybe he finds it funny. Either way, he ends up climbing up to join her on her rooftop hideaway. And she's content to sit in silence, up until she thinks he may press her to talk about what's on her mind. He knows her well enough to understand when she's wound up. Even if she's trying to hide it.]
Do you ever get the feeling that everything's different now? That there's been a line drawn.
[ even if his mind might occasionally get caught up in everything else — with the fables, with the rescue, with this fight — he's always going to make sure that clara's safe, that she's alright. in the days that follow the overall decision to stick around for longer than they've planned, as the days grow quieter, save for the distaste of the locals towards their group, he steals a chance to see how she's handling it all.
he joins her on the roof, his typical long coat trailing behind him, a familiar pink bag hanging off from one shoulder, setting it beside himself once he takes a seat next to her, eyes drifting off to the skyline, sighing in the silence before she speaks up to him. ]
Think it got drawn a long time ago. [ he answers, shoulders slouching a bit. ] Question is how far past it is everyone gonna go.
he joins her on the roof, his typical long coat trailing behind him, a familiar pink bag hanging off from one shoulder, setting it beside himself once he takes a seat next to her, eyes drifting off to the skyline, sighing in the silence before she speaks up to him. ]
Think it got drawn a long time ago. [ he answers, shoulders slouching a bit. ] Question is how far past it is everyone gonna go.
[ there are few things that remain unchanged in their routine since getting together. little things, quiet habits that are sacred, or perhaps foundational in who they are when they're together — like sharing a bottle of whiskey over starless nights, or taking turns turning pages on a new book.
tonight they feast on another classic from her world, oedipus rex by sophocles, and they've just come to that wonderfully terrible moment when the characters discover how they've become victims of their own undoing... or how little their doings even mattered, depending on how you decide to interpret it that day.
curled up against kovacs' chest, marta slowly runs a finger over the page of the book splayed open on her lap, legs folded over his while they occupy an armchair in one of the empty corners of the infirmary. it's a quiet night, most patients gone or asleep. it's the sort of night that puts one in a thoughtful mood. ]
...Do you think it exists? Destiny?
tonight they feast on another classic from her world, oedipus rex by sophocles, and they've just come to that wonderfully terrible moment when the characters discover how they've become victims of their own undoing... or how little their doings even mattered, depending on how you decide to interpret it that day.
curled up against kovacs' chest, marta slowly runs a finger over the page of the book splayed open on her lap, legs folded over his while they occupy an armchair in one of the empty corners of the infirmary. it's a quiet night, most patients gone or asleep. it's the sort of night that puts one in a thoughtful mood. ]
...Do you think it exists? Destiny?
Edited 2022-07-20 13:42 (UTC)
[ as much as they've settled on routines for as long as they've known each other, since the days in scorpion's bend where the presence of one another's company had become such a constant that it seemed to strike everything off balance when that world seemed to crumble around them, he always notices how dependent he's become of those moments when things get to be their most complex in retrieving the orbs. the extra time spent on viveca's world was a reminder of how much he urged for this quiet corner of the infirmary — a contrast to the way that kovacs has always told himself to never let himself feel too familiar with anything.
it's in part what draws him to marta, where these little habits become something of a comforting haven instead of dull repetition, where the cozy settlement of her body over his lap as she peels open another book is a lure towards the feeling of safety, of a kind of peace he's never really found elsewhere.
his fingers dance lazily against her arm, a lazy back and forth against the soft threads of her sweater as they read the words together, pausing only when she speaks out a question outside the quotes from the book. ]
I don't know. [ he answers quietly, eyes still on the ink upon the pages. ] Sometimes, I ... I think I've been handed enough shitty cards that it's gotta be something set in stone. Other times, I like to believe we've got more of a say than we think we do.
it's in part what draws him to marta, where these little habits become something of a comforting haven instead of dull repetition, where the cozy settlement of her body over his lap as she peels open another book is a lure towards the feeling of safety, of a kind of peace he's never really found elsewhere.
his fingers dance lazily against her arm, a lazy back and forth against the soft threads of her sweater as they read the words together, pausing only when she speaks out a question outside the quotes from the book. ]
I don't know. [ he answers quietly, eyes still on the ink upon the pages. ] Sometimes, I ... I think I've been handed enough shitty cards that it's gotta be something set in stone. Other times, I like to believe we've got more of a say than we think we do.
[Newt is relaxing and enjoying the days that follow a particularly unpleasant mission — and of course quietly dreading whatever mission might come next, considering they're moving closer and closer to the next. But ah, avoidance! His favorite! He'll just pretend summer break isn't just about over before school starts again. That metaphor works a little, right? Right.
He's in the middle of returning to the lab after consuming a plate of partly burned cookies when it suddenly goes totally dark. He lurches from the shock of it mid-step, and then looks around the inky darkness with round, startled eyes.]
Holy shit...! Wh-what's — Hey! What's going on!?
Don't tell me we're having an energy crisis again...! Christ...
[Of all the times to not have his phone on him, it had to be during a black-out. The familiar panic over his fear of dark spaces hits him like a sledgehammer, much like it had the first time he'd awoken on the Ximilia to a dark room (back when the lights were apparently harder to keep on; Clara had taken his hand and helped him navigate the dark back then).
His hands move to find the wall, and he paws along it with clumsy urgency. But after a moment, he forces himself to relax. It's just a little darkness, right? It'll fix itself sooner than later.
Oh—?
He can smell the faint smell of smoke. His mind ticks through a few people it could be, as he feels further along down the hall. Unaware that it's his buddy Kovacs, he calls out:]
Smoking in the dark, dude?
Maybe find a more appropriate time to nurse your addictions!
He's in the middle of returning to the lab after consuming a plate of partly burned cookies when it suddenly goes totally dark. He lurches from the shock of it mid-step, and then looks around the inky darkness with round, startled eyes.]
Holy shit...! Wh-what's — Hey! What's going on!?
Don't tell me we're having an energy crisis again...! Christ...
[Of all the times to not have his phone on him, it had to be during a black-out. The familiar panic over his fear of dark spaces hits him like a sledgehammer, much like it had the first time he'd awoken on the Ximilia to a dark room (back when the lights were apparently harder to keep on; Clara had taken his hand and helped him navigate the dark back then).
His hands move to find the wall, and he paws along it with clumsy urgency. But after a moment, he forces himself to relax. It's just a little darkness, right? It'll fix itself sooner than later.
Oh—?
He can smell the faint smell of smoke. His mind ticks through a few people it could be, as he feels further along down the hall. Unaware that it's his buddy Kovacs, he calls out:]
Smoking in the dark, dude?
Maybe find a more appropriate time to nurse your addictions!
[ kovacs works his way to the kitchen from the infirmary, following a brief stop where he'd had to drop off a few books marta had left in his room. his venture for a meal now is only a result of his — no, no, he's not using that word — of marta scolding him to get some food in his belly so he can have some nutrients to counter all the cigarette smoke he's inhaling.
it's his annoyance at having to follow those directions that he lights up another one now, letting the newly lit stick hang in his mouth as he shoves the lighter back in his pocket.
that's when he notices newt down the hall, his own steps slowly as he sees him moving along a little ... out of balance? he's not drunk, is he?
with the question, he squints with his confusion, stepping over a little closer, eyes studying the strangeness of his friend's posture, holding himself against the wall so securely. ]
Hardly the dark, unless you count every time I blink. You feeling out for a secret door there or something?
it's his annoyance at having to follow those directions that he lights up another one now, letting the newly lit stick hang in his mouth as he shoves the lighter back in his pocket.
that's when he notices newt down the hall, his own steps slowly as he sees him moving along a little ... out of balance? he's not drunk, is he?
with the question, he squints with his confusion, stepping over a little closer, eyes studying the strangeness of his friend's posture, holding himself against the wall so securely. ]
Hardly the dark, unless you count every time I blink. You feeling out for a secret door there or something?
Edited 2022-07-25 23:43 (UTC)
[ one morning on the station, on each orber's door, the following hand-written note (in fancy calligraphy) will be taped:
the orber can choose to attend or simply listen in to the meeting when it occurs, or they may ignore it altogether. ]
the orber can choose to attend or simply listen in to the meeting when it occurs, or they may ignore it altogether. ]
[ yet another flyer ends up on every orber's door, evidently by the same culprit as last time, except now it's a more colorful display:
the back of the flyer features more details about the play and its characters, and soon enough, an announcement from rita herself goes public, giving more context about the event, which all can sign up for. ]
the back of the flyer features more details about the play and its characters, and soon enough, an announcement from rita herself goes public, giving more context about the event, which all can sign up for. ]
[ kovacs has had his share of problems with the missions before, but none have been quite as infuriating as this last one. he's honestly now sure how many cigarettes he's already gone through since he's been back, but — it's definitely not just fresh clean air he's breathing in right now. ]
that really what you're most happy about?
figure you'd be glad to not be a fucking goldfish
[ or whatever the hell he turned into. ]
that really what you're most happy about?
figure you'd be glad to not be a fucking goldfish
[ or whatever the hell he turned into. ]
[Guess who hands two thumbs and just drank a few beers in the quiet of his newly acquired mission-based townhome? Thiiiis guyyyy. He'd held his tongue for a while, but. But. Yanno. Late nights alone with a little liquor makes you talk.
... As if he even needed that push.]
You stopped him, didn't you?
I know you were keeping an eye on me when I was in that magic coma
When I was still infected.
[He's vague, because on the very, very off chance he was wrong...
But he's pretty fucking sure he's got the pieces put together.]
... As if he even needed that push.]
You stopped him, didn't you?
I know you were keeping an eye on me when I was in that magic coma
When I was still infected.
[He's vague, because on the very, very off chance he was wrong...
But he's pretty fucking sure he's got the pieces put together.]
Edited (omg html please) 2022-10-11 19:28 (UTC)
[ the text is a surprise since kovacs just figured if newt didn't know what had happened by now, he might not find out about it. he briefly wonders how, if clara or alina or even marta had fessed something up to him, since the thought of kirigan actually admitting to what he did hardly seems likely. but then he realizes it probably doesn't matter.
still, being asked the way he is means that his role in all of this wasn't part of whatever was shared. but newt has enough to figure it out. it probably also doesn't hide it much that he and kirigan parted ways in sharing a room right when the incident happened. ]
yeah I did.
[ no point in keeping it a secret anymore. ]
still, being asked the way he is means that his role in all of this wasn't part of whatever was shared. but newt has enough to figure it out. it probably also doesn't hide it much that he and kirigan parted ways in sharing a room right when the incident happened. ]
yeah I did.
[ no point in keeping it a secret anymore. ]
[ she hadn't been anywhere near the volcano when the teleportation happened. she hadn't lingered behind, but she'd also known better than to attempt to make that climb on her own, and so she hung back, away from the magma crabs and the lava, doing what she always seems to do towards the end of these missions: stay out of the way and wait it out.
(it had bothered her, before. in some ways it still does, that nagging feeling that she isn't doing enough, that she's only making things harder for those that are already carrying her weight. but these days she tries to numb the feeling out, to let her believe that even if she can't help now, maybe later she can.)
because she's never in the thick of the action, she never really knows when her next breath will be back on the station. the not knowing often gnaws at her, like some jumpscare she keeps trying to anticipate. this time, when it happens, she's in the middle of worrying her lip — the shock of her return has her biting down hard enough to make it bleed, but she's so disoriented she doesn't even notice. there's movement all around her, viveca's voice in her mind, and a rank odor that smells far too much like fire and blood.
but in her spot marta whirls around, trying to scan the crowd for a familiar face. ]
Tak—?
(it had bothered her, before. in some ways it still does, that nagging feeling that she isn't doing enough, that she's only making things harder for those that are already carrying her weight. but these days she tries to numb the feeling out, to let her believe that even if she can't help now, maybe later she can.)
because she's never in the thick of the action, she never really knows when her next breath will be back on the station. the not knowing often gnaws at her, like some jumpscare she keeps trying to anticipate. this time, when it happens, she's in the middle of worrying her lip — the shock of her return has her biting down hard enough to make it bleed, but she's so disoriented she doesn't even notice. there's movement all around her, viveca's voice in her mind, and a rank odor that smells far too much like fire and blood.
but in her spot marta whirls around, trying to scan the crowd for a familiar face. ]
Tak—?
[ kovacs doesn't sleep, or when he does, it's very little, too restless to keep his eyes closed like he's waiting for the very moment the transport kicks in and brings everyone back. constantly his mind is nagged by the reminders that missions can often extend weeks, even months, recalling that their time in badrock pushed close to three, aware that nothing can be done to bring them back until they get their hands on the orb.
however much viveca assures him everyone will be fine, it isn't enough to ease away the tension that builds in him, finding console of company only in old ghosts that he thought had been in the past. quell watches him as his eyes go darker and darker, day by day, conversations gradually more delirious as he starts flipping frantically through the pages of his journal, looking for any signs of something he's forgotten. the pages where he talks about marta are the most worn, ink begin to smudge in places where he talks about their nights, about the books she's read him, about the peace that lures him whenever her voice speaks quietly to him until he falls asleep.
when he's at his most calm, it's marta who's there instead of quell, soothed by imagining the exact warmth of her fingers in his, of the soft curve of her smile as he brushes his thumb again the formation of a dimple. remember the details, he demands himself, mapping her out in his mind so it doesn't disappear.
he's in the kitchen, spoon poking reluctantly at some oatmeal, when he hears the cluster of voices from the platform, viveca's voice in his ear announcing everyone's return. he doesn't waste a second, scrambling to his feet, racing to the platform to find the crowd that had been transported in.
though he's plenty relieved to see plenty of familiar faces he hadn't seen in weeks, his eyes don't stop until he finds one in particular — and when he does, he connects everything with his memory, every part of her face, even the familiar worry of her eyes, all as he's remembered, nothing yet lost.
he doesn't stop to think, pushing past other bodies to get to her, not saying a word as he reaches her, the strength of his arms wrapping around her body to pull her in close against him, clutching her tightly. ]
however much viveca assures him everyone will be fine, it isn't enough to ease away the tension that builds in him, finding console of company only in old ghosts that he thought had been in the past. quell watches him as his eyes go darker and darker, day by day, conversations gradually more delirious as he starts flipping frantically through the pages of his journal, looking for any signs of something he's forgotten. the pages where he talks about marta are the most worn, ink begin to smudge in places where he talks about their nights, about the books she's read him, about the peace that lures him whenever her voice speaks quietly to him until he falls asleep.
when he's at his most calm, it's marta who's there instead of quell, soothed by imagining the exact warmth of her fingers in his, of the soft curve of her smile as he brushes his thumb again the formation of a dimple. remember the details, he demands himself, mapping her out in his mind so it doesn't disappear.
he's in the kitchen, spoon poking reluctantly at some oatmeal, when he hears the cluster of voices from the platform, viveca's voice in his ear announcing everyone's return. he doesn't waste a second, scrambling to his feet, racing to the platform to find the crowd that had been transported in.
though he's plenty relieved to see plenty of familiar faces he hadn't seen in weeks, his eyes don't stop until he finds one in particular — and when he does, he connects everything with his memory, every part of her face, even the familiar worry of her eyes, all as he's remembered, nothing yet lost.
he doesn't stop to think, pushing past other bodies to get to her, not saying a word as he reaches her, the strength of his arms wrapping around her body to pull her in close against him, clutching her tightly. ]
voice; un: newt - while kovacs is gone for an update :>
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
groupiedrifter
2023-03-30 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Dude, you better not be gone after our last talk. You are not allowed to be gone. Too many of you guys have left, and I can't — You're just not allowed to go. I don't give my blessing; you're banned from ditching this station! You're 86'd from going home! This is on doctor's orders, doctor being me — I'll slap you with every PhD I've got my grubby hands on. I swear. What kinda shit would that be, after everything you told me, huh? I mean, shit, man, I know you wouldn't choose to go on your own. But if you did, I'm gonna kick your ass. So you better not have! Even if I know you didn't. Marta's gonna be upset, and I'm gonna be upset that she's upset, and I'm gonna be upset because you're one of my best friends and you're not here, and I don't wanna picture this place without you. You're supposed to be stuck with me, man! I'm the neurotic barnacle that is totally stuck to your shoe!
... If you're really gone, though. I mean. What am I supposed to say? I can't believe you got me back on my smoking habit and flounced... come back soon, aright? Please come back soon, T.K. If Finn could do it, you could, right? People come and go, but I'd prefer it if you left the 'going' part out of it... Um. I, um. Shit. Stupid, Newt. Stupid, stupid... What're you even doing? He's fucking gone, they almost never come back; what're you even...
........
Don't be a stranger.
... If you're really gone, though. I mean. What am I supposed to say? I can't believe you got me back on my smoking habit and flounced... come back soon, aright? Please come back soon, T.K. If Finn could do it, you could, right? People come and go, but I'd prefer it if you left the 'going' part out of it... Um. I, um. Shit. Stupid, Newt. Stupid, stupid... What're you even doing? He's fucking gone, they almost never come back; what're you even...
........
Don't be a stranger.
[ she's home first, which isn't unusual given his chosen career path on this planet. it means she's usually got time to fix them something to eat for the evening, just like it means she has grown used to the sound of arrival.
but all that means is she becomes acutely aware when something isn't Quite Right, like when his keys jangle a little more loudly than usual against the lock, prompting her to turn the stove off on her beef stew and pull the door open herself.
her eyes land on his face first, taking in the mildly guilty flinch that he quickly smothers in an impassive expression. then she notices the bleeding puncture in his clothing, wherein that brief moment she is able to assess that it is 1) non-lethal, and 2) something he could have easily avoided. that tells her two other things: 1) he let himself get hurt for some reason (a valid one, she's sure he'll point out), and 2) she should have saved their good beef for a better night.
marta meets his eyes again, her expression stoic, before slowly closing the door back in his face. the sharp sound of the lock turning echoes in the hallway. asshole can open his own damn door. ]
but all that means is she becomes acutely aware when something isn't Quite Right, like when his keys jangle a little more loudly than usual against the lock, prompting her to turn the stove off on her beef stew and pull the door open herself.
her eyes land on his face first, taking in the mildly guilty flinch that he quickly smothers in an impassive expression. then she notices the bleeding puncture in his clothing, wherein that brief moment she is able to assess that it is 1) non-lethal, and 2) something he could have easily avoided. that tells her two other things: 1) he let himself get hurt for some reason (a valid one, she's sure he'll point out), and 2) she should have saved their good beef for a better night.
marta meets his eyes again, her expression stoic, before slowly closing the door back in his face. the sharp sound of the lock turning echoes in the hallway. asshole can open his own damn door. ]
Edited 2023-05-30 00:26 (UTC)
[ when kovacs felt the blade jam past his skin near his collar, the curse he groaned out loud hadn't been about the pain or even the worry that it could be a serious wound. no, the only thing in his mind had been the now-humorous assurance he'd given marta that these little gigs he'd be doing were a cinch and he'd be breezing through them without a scratch.
he'd known then it was a stupid promise to make, but when he rips his jacket to put some pressure on the cut, he knows it even more now.
what are the chances that he could make it home with luck that she won't be there when he arrives? that he could squeeze some time to get it cleaned and stitched up before she sees a drop of blood? no point in debating it, really. even if he did manage that, she'd never miss the injury, not with her studious eyes that have made it a habit of looking him over, the nurse in her always knowing it's essential to check with someone as reckless as he can be, or the way those fingers trace enough of his skin at night that she'd be able to feel out any part of it that's become irregular since the last time.
no, kovacs knew from the moment he got stabbed that he was royally fucked. and not in the way he typically prefers.
so when he door suddenly opens right as he's trying to get open the lock and he meets her eyes, he doesn't need to utter a word in that sharp silence to know what he's gotten himself into, even if he closes his eyes when the door slams shut again, the gust of it blowing in his face like a big ol' fuck you.
another few swears get whispered below his breath, this time a few spanish ones he'd learned to blend smoothly with the english ones, a little japanese thrown in the mix too, as he returns to dealing with the lock himself, eventually getting it open even if the task takes longer than it should.
once the door is open, he groans at the slight aggression it took to undo that lock since it had put a bit more pressure along his arm, aggravating the wound just a bit more, before stepping inside with a heavy sigh. ]
Honey, I'm home. [ spoken bluntly, with all the sarcasm and without any real cheer in any word. ]
he'd known then it was a stupid promise to make, but when he rips his jacket to put some pressure on the cut, he knows it even more now.
what are the chances that he could make it home with luck that she won't be there when he arrives? that he could squeeze some time to get it cleaned and stitched up before she sees a drop of blood? no point in debating it, really. even if he did manage that, she'd never miss the injury, not with her studious eyes that have made it a habit of looking him over, the nurse in her always knowing it's essential to check with someone as reckless as he can be, or the way those fingers trace enough of his skin at night that she'd be able to feel out any part of it that's become irregular since the last time.
no, kovacs knew from the moment he got stabbed that he was royally fucked. and not in the way he typically prefers.
so when he door suddenly opens right as he's trying to get open the lock and he meets her eyes, he doesn't need to utter a word in that sharp silence to know what he's gotten himself into, even if he closes his eyes when the door slams shut again, the gust of it blowing in his face like a big ol' fuck you.
another few swears get whispered below his breath, this time a few spanish ones he'd learned to blend smoothly with the english ones, a little japanese thrown in the mix too, as he returns to dealing with the lock himself, eventually getting it open even if the task takes longer than it should.
once the door is open, he groans at the slight aggression it took to undo that lock since it had put a bit more pressure along his arm, aggravating the wound just a bit more, before stepping inside with a heavy sigh. ]
Honey, I'm home. [ spoken bluntly, with all the sarcasm and without any real cheer in any word. ]
I'm quitting.
[ it's not often that marta voices her displeasure (though certainly if there's someone she feels the most comfortable with doing so, it's kovacs) so it's very quickly obvious that this particular instance is more hyperbole than anything sincere. still, the miserable note of her voice lingers in the air from where it'd floated behind the bedroom door she's now seriously considering locking herself in. it's the only room in the quaint little house they've taken up that has a full-length mirror, the very same one that marta is now currently frowning at.
she doesn't personally have anything against pink. she likes pink, like she likes all of the softer, pastel colors, but she just now realizes she has a threshold for just how much pink she can tolerate, and apparently her new nurse's uniform has crossed it.
she glances out the window, watching small waves ripple through the sun-kissed mallard harbor, and tries not to entertain the idea of what might happen if a uniform were to just so happen to... fall in the water. completely by accident, of course. ]
Maybe I can just work with you. What did you end up deciding on?
[ it's not often that marta voices her displeasure (though certainly if there's someone she feels the most comfortable with doing so, it's kovacs) so it's very quickly obvious that this particular instance is more hyperbole than anything sincere. still, the miserable note of her voice lingers in the air from where it'd floated behind the bedroom door she's now seriously considering locking herself in. it's the only room in the quaint little house they've taken up that has a full-length mirror, the very same one that marta is now currently frowning at.
she doesn't personally have anything against pink. she likes pink, like she likes all of the softer, pastel colors, but she just now realizes she has a threshold for just how much pink she can tolerate, and apparently her new nurse's uniform has crossed it.
she glances out the window, watching small waves ripple through the sun-kissed mallard harbor, and tries not to entertain the idea of what might happen if a uniform were to just so happen to... fall in the water. completely by accident, of course. ]
Maybe I can just work with you. What did you end up deciding on?
No, you're not.
[ kovacs' voice mutters back from just down the hall from the bedroom, over in the kitchen which isn't too far considering the size of the small harbor-side home. it's answered from a mouth that's nearly full of cereal, currently mid-chew, where he stands at the counter, shirtless and barefoot in a pair of jeans, currently flipping through the oversized flyer booklet that's meant to be a tourist overview of the town they just settled into.
as he turns each page, he very nearly rips each with the annoyance that goes into it, rolling his eyes as he's forced to further recognize just how much cubits seem to literally be tied into every aspect of every day life in this world. ]
At this rate, I'm gonna be a fucking lifeguard. [ he slaps the booklet aside, temporarily giving up on his failed attempt of a job search, sneaking in one final spoonful of cereal before dropping the spoon back in the bowl and turning to walk back towards the bedroom. ] Alright, what are you whining about in here? It can't be that bad.
[ palm on the door, he pushes it fully open as he leans against the frame, eyes widening when he finally gets the view of marta's assigned work uniform — pinky and most definitely shorter than he was expecting. the smirk on his face spreads almost instantly. ]
Holy shit.
[ kovacs' voice mutters back from just down the hall from the bedroom, over in the kitchen which isn't too far considering the size of the small harbor-side home. it's answered from a mouth that's nearly full of cereal, currently mid-chew, where he stands at the counter, shirtless and barefoot in a pair of jeans, currently flipping through the oversized flyer booklet that's meant to be a tourist overview of the town they just settled into.
as he turns each page, he very nearly rips each with the annoyance that goes into it, rolling his eyes as he's forced to further recognize just how much cubits seem to literally be tied into every aspect of every day life in this world. ]
At this rate, I'm gonna be a fucking lifeguard. [ he slaps the booklet aside, temporarily giving up on his failed attempt of a job search, sneaking in one final spoonful of cereal before dropping the spoon back in the bowl and turning to walk back towards the bedroom. ] Alright, what are you whining about in here? It can't be that bad.
[ palm on the door, he pushes it fully open as he leans against the frame, eyes widening when he finally gets the view of marta's assigned work uniform — pinky and most definitely shorter than he was expecting. the smirk on his face spreads almost instantly. ]
Holy shit.
Edited 2023-07-11 02:06 (UTC)
Kovacs! Hello!
Did you miss me? Didn't expect to be back so soon — [ ... or you know, ever. But! But. ] — and I'm rather glad to see that some familiar faces are still here!
[ Truly, he's missed several crewmembers here, especially Kovacs. And being gone for however long he has (time is still too wibbly-wobbly for him to make much sense of its normal passing, okay), he hadn't been sure what it'd be like. New vibe and all that. ]
Cause any trouble then, eh? On my behalf? Are you busy? Care to join me for a cup of tea?
Did you miss me? Didn't expect to be back so soon — [ ... or you know, ever. But! But. ] — and I'm rather glad to see that some familiar faces are still here!
[ Truly, he's missed several crewmembers here, especially Kovacs. And being gone for however long he has (time is still too wibbly-wobbly for him to make much sense of its normal passing, okay), he hadn't been sure what it'd be like. New vibe and all that. ]
Cause any trouble then, eh? On my behalf? Are you busy? Care to join me for a cup of tea?
[ kovacs doesn't forget voices or faces. even when someone like him lives as he does, with bodies ever changing. often, he still dreams of those he's met, typically in all their forms if he's met them under different guises. he never forgets the doctor, all of the doctor, in the different ways that he's known him, either gray-haired or extra chinny, along with all his tales he's either witnessed or been told.
so when he sees him now, he thinks he's fallen asleep again, sometimes finding him in dreams. but it's not, realizing the message that comes through comes in real time. ]
... Doc? [ he squints, letting it all process. definitely the doctor. and definitely him in that body, with the way he embodies that energy the same as he's always had. ] The hell you doing here? [ endearingly asked. ]
so when he sees him now, he thinks he's fallen asleep again, sometimes finding him in dreams. but it's not, realizing the message that comes through comes in real time. ]
... Doc? [ he squints, letting it all process. definitely the doctor. and definitely him in that body, with the way he embodies that energy the same as he's always had. ] The hell you doing here? [ endearingly asked. ]
Dude, I'm bummed.
[And slightly intoxicated from a heavily stocked tiki bar.]
[And slightly intoxicated from a heavily stocked tiki bar.]
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