yes...a lot of what i've seen, from these lights that run on lightning rather than lit by a flame, to doors that open by themselves, to devices like the blackglass...don't even exist where i'm from.
so i'd appreciate that very much. thank you.
FROM: akame@cdc.org
.....i hope it doesn't come to that. i really think he was just getting his hopes up. i don't feel like he should be faulted for that.
[but hell if she knows the do's and don'ts of flirting (or sexual harassment, in this case).
also, if jean gets jumped, it's kind of her fault for further spreading the misinformation, alas.]
FROM: akame@cdc.org
i'll do my best.
and if you need a hand if a fight breaks out, don't hesitate to contact me. you're helping me with figuring out new technology, after all.
[while they're on the subject of brawling. it's always good to be prepared.]
well the only way this could be worse is if they were like those singing bass fish
and burst into eagle screeches whenever people walked by.
[Is this actually happening. Is Cap just bored or is he...Did he find his file and decide he feels bad enough to pity text him? Ugh. Whatever. Whatever.]
FROM: parker.peter@cdc.org
Couple tshirts, some cereal. Pictures of my family. No eagles though.
Not many, actually. Most people covered it before I got to help anyone. [He grins broadly at the woman, though the bags under her eyes are a slight cause for concern. Maybe they'll all start sleeping now that the bugs are in remission. And the murders should technically stop.
He fishes his ball from his pocket and tosses it her way.]
[Peter stares at that for some time. How...kind of him. He lets his head thunk against the wall of his bunk and and mutters to the empty air for a bit.
So he's read the file and feels guilty. Obviously. There's no indication of who it was that Peter took the bullet for but the fact that he was dead probably stood out like a sore thumb. This Cap might have a better sense of humor than the guy he knows but it's still about the politics. Function, efficiency. If Peter was sitting here moping to himself then he'd better man up and get his act together, because everyone goes through hardship, blah blah blah. These messages would be quaint if they weren't loaded with words neither of the were willing to say.]
I figured. [ Rikki had said pretty much the same, and now she's gone. ] And I know I'm not really the same guy you know. But I'm still around, if you ever need anything. Even just to talk.
oh, you know. compares women to animals that need to be domesticated and how the lines of consent are so blurred that he figures she has to want his tiny d.
FROM: wilson.wade@cdc.org
that grey area between 'yes' and 'no', man. it'll fuck you up every time.
That's fine! I've met a lot of people that aren't used to this stuff. Don't be shy to ask.
FROM: parker.peter@cdc.org
neither do i. this isn't the first message I've gotten about Jean though so there's a chance someone's gonna misunderstand in a bad way. The rumour mill runneth strong with this one...
FROM: parker.peter@cdc.org
Are you into martial arts and things? because I always did want to learn. I get by on enhanced strength and stuff, no actual skill involved. Probably not the best to keep relying on luck.
what else have you heard about him? nothing worse than what i've told you, i hope?
FROM: akame@cdc.org
i was trained in hand-to-hand combat, yes. it's a necessity---sometimes, you can't leave traces when eliminating a target. anyone who stumbles upon the scene would be able to have authorities track you down if you use a weapon too much.
well, if you have free time, i could teach you a few basic techniques and maneuvers. combine those with your enhanced strength, and you can deal a lot more damage than i can.
[As exhausted as she is, it's easy for muscle memory to kick in as she catches the ball out of reflex, peering at the peculiar object closely before tossing it right back over in Peter's direction.]
Technically not, but how about we consider this a little pop quiz?
[He catches it one handed and gives her a questioning look.] I thought I was free of school in space.
[Guess not. Peter shrugs his shoulders and completes the distance between them, already working over the ball.] It's a little finicky, but usually if you get it right about— whoa, right there.
[And indeed. Impossibly the thing balloons up. Becomes the same pod that he'd awaken in (except not exactly the same, this one's free of holes from antsy feet. God he hope that doesn't show up on a bill somewhere.] And voila. Step inside the entrance there, and it'll blow mist at you. Bam. Cured.
[Well at least Hange's an attentive audience even when she's already well-aware of how the strange contraption is activated, watching as the ball grow and inevitably transform in a fully sized pod.]
If only such a convenience were available with other things. Like showers.
[She'll make her way into the pod at that, and it's only then that she tugs down her cloth, these extra precautions having long since been wired into her muscles even when the threat no longer remains. When the mist blows over her she'll make a point to breath in deep, doing so for several seconds before she's satisfied enough to step back out.]
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