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[weaponwithoutpurpose]

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[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[Unintended or not, it gets a laugh.]

Yeah, I think that chance is fucked.

[Pun certainly intended.]

Not that I am real keen on talking shit out with you.

[But at least he's not - angry. Not at Norton, at least. His posture reflects that now. Even his tone stays a little teasing.]

[pharadyne]

To be honest, most of the time I'd rather stick my head in an oven than talk about feelings. But I need the Admiral deal.

[Norton doesn't see the need to pretend that there's no self-interest motivating him as a warden. And he suspects Jacob would respect honest self-interest more than a pretense of altruism.]

Right now, though, I'm more inclined to just get sozzled and watch a film if you're keen.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Fuck. Yes. That one. Let's do that one.

[The port can wait. Everything can wait. He just wants to sit here, get exceptionally drunk, and pretend like he's not here on the Barge. Pretend that the outside world doesn't exist."

[thedeadgirl]

Static fills her ears, and excitement spinning wildly as a flash of goosebumps erupts across her skin. Laura sucks in a breath, holding it for a moment while she takes in everything that she's feeling before letting out a soft sigh of pleasure. Her hand moves from his shoulder to the back of his neck, fingers curling around the base of his skull.

Her other leg slips up the outside of his frame and bends, locking him in place selfishly because that mouth of his was making her feel far too good. Laura lets out a low moan, her back arching slightly.

[pharadyne]

Bring a few more bottles over from the liquor cabinet. I'll choose a film.

[Nothing about war, nothing about trauma, nothing too deep since they'll be drunk. He decides on The Seven Year Itch.]

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He pushes himself up and finds a few bottles, bringing them over and placing them on the table, refilling glasses for both of them.]

What'd you pick?

Marilyn? [He raises his glass.]

Sinful.

[pharadyne]

Not for me. [Which is just as well since the erection he acquired sucking off Jacob is thankfully starting to go down.]

Sometimes I think it would be nice to be a blonde bombshell. But sometimes I think it's a marvel she doesn't punch every man she meets. Or maybe that's just me projecting my teensy desire to do damage.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

Put on a fucking wig and go to town, then. [He sinks down into the chair, bringing the glass to his forehead and resting it there.]

Sure there's lots of people who deserve to be hit in the face.

[pharadyne]

I can never actually do it though. Punch people. I don't have it in me. Not unless it's a real fight. I'm more about getting other people to punch people for me.

[He finishes his gin and tonic and pours himself another.]

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like No wonder John likes you under his breath, but drowns it in a drink.]

What's the difference in a real fight and not?

[pharadyne]

Well, if it's a choice between punching someone or getting hurt or murdered, of course I'm going to punch someone. And my old warden let me hit him, but that was different because he offered. It was very cathartic, actually, but can't be recreated. Kaz was special.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He takes a drink, thoughtful. That's the sort of offer he'd give someone else.]

And now you don't need it?

[pharadyne]

Hmmm, I probably do, but like I said, I don't think it can be recreated. He was good enough that I could go at him with everything I had but never actually hurt him, and he'd fight back fiercely enough to give me something real to fight against, but somehow in such a way I always felt perfectly safe even when he was hitting me back.

[Norton sighs wistfully. And has another sip of his drink.]

He was a very good warden. I'm afraid I can't live up to his standard, although if he were here he'd say something terribly insightful that would reassure me. I suppose we all have our strengths. His was punching people, and mine is blowjobs.

He asked me once what would make me happy. What would make you happy?

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He sounds like the sort of man who Jacob could respect. He kind of hates that.

He hates the question even more.]

I don't get to be happy. Not really in the cards for me.

[pharadyne]

I don't believe that at all, but I'm troubled that you do. Of course, I always believed I deserved a happy ending even though I probably did not. But that's because I don't like letting other people, or fate, have the last word regarding my life.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[He waves a hand at him.]

I had my duty and once I fulfilled it, I was done.

You've read my file.

[pharadyne]

There's got to be more to life than duty. Like...[He gestures loosely at the telly.]...watching Marilyn Monroe films.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[His eyes flick to the screen.]

It passes the time.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He wouldn't dream of moving anyway, but the pressure of her leg pressing against him makes him blood run hotter. All he can hear is the sound of her moan and the waterfall in the background, and he pushes his tongue inside to taste her properly. He works his fingers against her skin, desperate to get her higher.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

[From here.]

Jacob notices movement out of the corner of his eye around the same time he notices that his 'assailant' isn't hitting back. Resisting, yes, but he doesn't need to block and he doesn't feel the sharp blows.

It takes him two more hits before the tunnel vision retreats and he can breathe.

He slumps against the wall, confused and disoriented, trying to pull back from him.

[verynormalturnipseller]

[personal profile] verynormalturnipseller
Wen Ning releases one hand. He's willing to let the other go if this calm continues to take root, but he's not confident enough to give up all his leverage. Jacob knows what he's doing, even if Wen Ning doesn't recognize the techniques.

He does wonder if he's looking at some form of qi deviation. He'll ask once he's more certain.

It's his doctor's voice that emerges, trained into him with all the other family techniques, cool and even and precise. "Hello, how're you now?" As if the man just walked into the clinic at Dafan.

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

He blinks at the question, his eyes focusing, trying to settle on the form holding his closed fist. Everything is fuzzy around the edges, like trying to see the world through a film of television snow. It slowly dissipates, leaving the question unheard, but he can guess.

"I'm alright," he breathes out.

[verynormalturnipseller]

Wen Ning is relatively new and has yet to take a permanent position, but he's used to the barge enough to phrase the next question carefully and slowly in the same softly neutral tones. If you layer on too much soothing and make a patient feel condescended to, you can do more harm than good.

"Is your warden someone who'd be useful, or would you prefer somebody else?"

[weaponwithoutpurpose]

"It's Norton," he tells him. "He's- it's fine."

Norton feels safe enough, and he's coming back to himself, back to some semblance of normalcy.

"Just call him."

He's going to find out eventually, and Jacob would rather just collapse in one of his stupid chairs than wait for him.

[verynormalturnipseller]

The reassuring smile is as trained as the voice, though he isn't as good at it. He takes a step back, making a show of giving some space, though his eyes are still sharp in case of a resurgence of aggression.

His calm only cracks when he pages Norton, apparently a much greater trial than being repeatedly tenderized.