exsiliumlogs | the reds go in with the whites right

You're also not going to make it in a career change to a laundress.

( She points out, though in doing so, she sets several of the stacks on the bed by her to the side, so she can work on transitioning herself over. )

If it's about promises, then you're usually not so hell-bent on keeping the silly, small ones.

( Language, Collette! )

Then I suppose it's a good thing I have another career lined up.

[ Onto the next shirt! He'll keep at it for awhile, folding several more as she works her way over. Eventually he'll pause, though not look up from the blinding Hawaiian shirt he's buttoning together.

This one isn't even his. Did he even pack his?

No.

That got blown up, too. ]

No, not really, but I don't want to dwell on anything unsettling right now, not when we have to go back to that awful base soon.

Dwelling, huh?

( He's patient with her, and it's never been lost on Collette. She's grateful for that as she settles herself in, ending up almost falling into him because his weight displaces enough of the bed that when she moves by him, she almost loses proper propping up power with her arm. She peers over his shoulder, then leans forward, resting her head against the same shoulder. )

I saw the sleeping pills. ( She almost mentions her nightmares... but holds off. It's not quite the same. ) And what you were keeping under your mattress back at the base.

( The weight of her head lifts. She snakes an arm around his torso, glad in a way it's not easy for either one to look at each other right now.

She's really been enjoying their time here. She doesn't want to mess with that... but she doesn't believe in keeping quiet forever. Especially not with Caesar. )

[ If anything, the pills are more an embarrassment than a deep, dark secret. She had been right all along, how badly him and space got along, but who would want to admit that? Not when he used to be able to nod off at any time, in any place!

It's the second part that gets a brief moment where his muscles go taut, tense with sudden worry, under her arms. There were several things under his mattress. Which did she mean? ]

I don't really need those so much anymore... [ That other thing, though. ] What was under my mattress?

That's good.

( She comments, tone softening. She is glad he's sleeping better. Part of her is almost amused at being right, but right back to that stubbornness where he wouldn't say. She doesn't mind that so much. She's similarly stubborn over her own things.

The squeeze of her arm around him comes along with a name. For everything else, and for whatever she might ask on another day, today is about that concept: dwelling on unsettling thoughts. )

The vest from Paramjit.

( She'd recognize that vibrant shade of green even if she hadn't been worried and in more mobile morphs while she flitted around Caesar when he was blind. )

The vest?

[ That one isn't as bad! It certainly isn't hard to explain, not compared to the little black case of vials. In retrospect, he should have tossed all of that, but it was one of those things he'd just never gotten around to.

He's not sure he could explain the why of that one.

But the vest! ]

Yeah. It didn't feel right to just leave it behind.

( She can understand that. The vials -- she didn't know what they were, wouldn't have, other than to be curious. The one benefit to her being sick and tortured and out of her own head all of that June, there was so much she hadn't known until her head began to clear.

He gets another squeeze, a hug without asking him to return it. )

You weren't expecting me to ask after that?

( Now she does sound curious, though how she feels is different -- not that curiosity isn't partly emotional, but that she understands a loss and a desire to preserve. Remembering him after Elmer's world, and what Elmer told her later, about the wine. He does a lot of things he doesn't want commented on, she realizes, probably more than she'll ever know. Not even all of them are ones that people generally don't want known, for more nefarious reasons. )

[ He gets sentimental over the littlest details. It's ridiculous, in his opinion, actually. ]

More that I weren't expecting you to go digging through my stuff. I didn't want to look at it, so I kept it under the mattress. It's probably safer there, in any case.

Safer where you can't see it, but can keep it close?

( Weirdo. She gets it, just not entirely. For her, part of it is in being able to see those reminders of other things, important ones. Like the signatures on her walls, or the terrible finger painting Marco left her.

It's all she has. She'd even lost the bracelet Caesar had ~~stolen~~ given her, back in September, after using it as a weapon. She regrets that, though she doesn't mention it much at all. )

Where you could think about it if you wanted, but you don't have to confront it every day?

[ You know, he keeps forgetting about that thing in his bag.... ]

I suppose.

[ He says with a shrug. Despite the arms around him, they're out of the way enough that he can finish folding this dumb Hawaiian shirt and set it aside. ]

It's not the only stupid little thing I brought with me. In retrospect, I should have packed more useful things, but I don't own all that much that would be useful on a moon.

I should have packed anything, but I got carted off half asleep.

( She says with a snort, watching him fold the shirt. It makes her smile, lopsided -- her thoughts are balanced between something Lenalee has said, and Caesar's comment on stupid little things. )

It's fine. The little things were more important to you. Are more important. ( A pause; it's tempting to ask about Lenalee's words. She feels it like a presence in her mind, words writing themselves onto her tongue.

She staves them off with: ) Do you think that's Saul's?

I have a few things you left behind, anyway, so I'm not sure how much you actually missed.

[ Better to say so now then wait and forget all over again! The question of whether the blindingly bright shirt is Mr. Lawyer's or not, though... He squints down at it. ]

You think that man would actually trust anyone with his clothing? [ Yet that doesn't stop him from shaking it back out, undoing aaaall his own work, and holding it up against himself. ] Way too big for me, so maybe it is his. You know, old man size.

Ah, right, so in like what, five years?

( She grins as she says so, pulling him back enough to duck her head around and pressing a kiss to the side of his face. It puts her in mind of something else -- oh! Right! The contract!

Her eyes light up all the more, both in remembering and in curiosity. )

You did? What stuff? ( A pause. ) Hey, could you open the drawer on the bedside table here? Oh, and nab that pen?

( She unwraps her arms from around him to allow him free movement, one hand supporting herself as she sits on the bed, the other resting against his back. She likes the comfort of touch for her own sake, as long as he'll let her get away with it. )

No. [ There's a hint of a smile at the kiss and he sets about refolding the shirt. ] In five years, I'll still be young and everyone older will still be incredibly old.

[ This is a constant and logic does not matter in this case. Anyway, shirt folded and set aside again, he turns back to give her a suspicious look. ]

And you need a pen for what exactly? Pens don't get laundry folded.

No, ( She admits, giving him a playful grin. ) But pens do get certificates written, and I believe we have one to make up for you to sign.

( She pushes the conversation over what Lenalee had said off a little further. )

Though maybe I should write down your solution to the problem of eternal youth at the same time! "Always hang out around someone older than you. Instant youth, 100% Guarantee!" Aaah. Maybe that's why I should keep you around!

( Being a whole whopping what, five months or so younger than he is. )

Seriously? That? [ So she's playing along with that little joke, is she? ] Pens and paper, unless you mean to write it out on some poor fool's shirt.

[ As amusing as that would be...

He leans away, reaching towards the hotel drawer and opening it. It takes a second or two, but he finds the pen. Then he's back, making a point to shift how he's been sitting as he returns and flop back against her.

Then he'll offer the pen. ]

And don't bother. Even if you are younger, I would start claiming otherwise after a certain point.

( She laughs, something that turns into more of a huff of exhaled air as he flops back against her. She adjusts in turn, making certain of the security of her position before she'll be reaching out to take the pen. )

There should be a pad of paper in there too!

( Though with him settled back, she can imagine his groaning and protesting having to move again on her behalf. Regardless, she brings one hand up for the pen, trailing fingers over his hand first, then bringing all five fingers together over the pen, it's top pressed into the center of her palm. She doesn't put terribly much effort into pulling it out of Caesar's hand, only a light tug for right now.

Collette's more interested in the tease that comes along with this, pitching her voice lower, unintentionally huskier (she couldn't intentionally hit that note if she actively tried) as she speaks. )

Actually going to trust your pen to my hand? I'm flattered, C.

( Collette attempts a reasonably polite (though not so proper) nibble on his earlobe when she gives a definitive tug on the pen, palming it with a deft twist of her wrist and rolling movement of her fingers. )

Though what's this about you turning me into a cougar for your own benefit? I should have guessed! You're totally into older ladies!

( All that said pulling her head back, eyes trailing along the curve of his neck and shoulder.

Um. What was she thinking about again? )

It's not--

[ It's not his pen, he was going to say, but the if the tone alone wasn't enough to tip him off to what she's really leaning towards, the brush of teeth against his ear certainly does. It ends what would have been a silly misunderstanding in a sudden intake of breath instead.

Well.

That puts his mind a little more south than he's used to.

When she finally does take the pen away from him, he twists about just enough to look back at her. ]

You weren't actually talking about the pen, were you?

Nope.

( She says, lips quirking up in a lopsided smile, eyes rising to meet his own glance. It's immensely gratifying to know she's responsible for that intake of breath. Not accidentally, either -- she likes that. He's either blessed or cursed with a girlfriend who takes satisfaction in the adventure of figuring out what will get her positive feedback, for all "positive" and "feedback" might be relative to her own perceptions on the matter. )

Not even a little.

( Looks like it'll be one hell of a certificate, Caesar. )

I see...

[ He thought not.

But the pad of paper! Now that, that gives him a reason to push himself back up to sit up properly, although it won't be for long. He really is only retrieving the pad of paper before going right back to where he was before. ]

Keep in mind I will be checking your spelling. [ A quip to go along with the pad he passes her. ] And that stuff I mentioned before, I mean the bracelet and some stone lizard. Mostly whatever tiny little things you were keeping. Anything bigger and I'd of run out of room for myself.

Ooh, am I getting graded? ( Is the joking quip in return while she accepts the pad of paper. What follows after is startling, for things she hadn't known. Stone lizard doesn't make immediate sense, but the one that really gets her is the bracelet. )

The bracelet? But I thought that'd been lost at the castle.

( She hadn't seen it after hitting (or failing to hit) Yuri with it; she'd figured it'd been crushed under rubble as the centuries old castle crumbled. )

You found it? After -- after all that?

( Pardon her tone going from one sort of one-track train to a tangent toward out and out surprised and happy. It'd bothered her a lot, the things she'd thought she'd lost that were gifts from others. Caesar hasn't given her much of anything in a concrete sense, and while she still thought of it as the Birthday Apology gift, and she wasn't the sort of girl who wore jewelry, she had worn it because it'd come from him for her. More than a tiny little thing to her -- though she has to laugh, a soft exhalation. Running out of room for himself? )

You have hidden parts to your collection stashed somewhere else, C?

( Two different kinds of warmth flow through her, one pooling in her stomach, another around her heart. It does nothing to stop her from propping the pad against what's handy, which with his luck might well be him, to start writing out her certificate. Her pen scratches out a regular, smooth sort of sound. She's concentrating on this, nudging the thoughts of what he'd taken from before the disaster to the side for now. )

Hmm. Hey, how do you spell fellatio?

( She's probably teasing, bringing the pen up to tap against her lower lip as she asks.

... Probably. )

How should I know how to spell that? I'm half sure you just made that word up.

[ srsly collette what are you even ]

Hey. Gamora killed far too many pirates for it to simply leave it behind. Just think, how could I ever go to her and say, oh, hey, we need to do that all over again?

[ Actually, Gamora would probably be 100% up to going out and killing more pirates, but that isn't quite as amusing as picturing the other scenario! As for his own stuff, uh, well...

At that, there's yet another shrug. Shrug of many shrugs. ]

Not really. It just wasn't that big of a bag, okay?

( She pauses in her writing, quirking up a brow. Not that big of a bag, and yet the things he had brought for himself... ahh, Caesar. She raps her pen lightly against his head, which doesn't do much, given the sheer ongoing volume of hair he has. )

I love you trying to play it off. Is it ever going to be easy for you to say what something means to you?

( She suspects not. From how he handles the rest of anything, from being wrong, to being uncertain, to being scared, she knows it's not his way. She can still tease over it. It's kind of easier, teasing, because it can be close to admitting things herself without needing to spell out that she does understand some of his peculiarities.

Or thinks she does. )

Ah, so this is really about Gamora, I see how it is! Though she'd be fine with all the pirate death. She's pretty much too fine with all kinds of death.

( Collette knows it's something trained deep into her friend. Why she calls her a friend knowing that... well. Gamora has mattered. And Gamora isn't stark raving murderous, somehow. She resumes writing, slow and steady, wanting to make sure her looping letters in their largeness fit in the small space as best as she can make them. )

You should look it up on your tablet's dictionary, then you can be fully sure one way or the other!

But my tablet is on the other side of the room, so far, so far away.

[ It'll have to wait, then, because he isn't planning on getting up again! Though it's funny she would say that about Gamora, how she's "too fine" with all kinds of death.

If Collette ever knew what he and Gamora had spoken about...

Well. He's sure he'd be the one in trouble, actually. ]

And no. I'm as likely to say what anything means to me as you are to stop going on and on about all sorts of inane things to people you've only just met. The last thing I need is anyone know what I am and am not attached to.

So it doesn't get used against you.

( Given the life he's geared himself up to have, that his family has, and what war does, what she's done under the orders of who they've followed in war, of what's been lost to war...

It's something every vigilante has said, thinking their situation is so different, circling back to how it's the same, only with a sense of needing to fight or make use of fellow soldiers, not be forever on their own in an insular group in the way they seem accustomed.

Bizarre thoughts. She doesn't hold on to them, finishing up her certificate with a heart. When her pen comes up this time, it's to poke at Cesar's head, amused, even as she hands the pad of paper back over his shoulder to him proper. The pen follows, over the opposite shoulder. )

Lazybones! Guess you're going to have to take my word on things, huh?

( The certificate reads something like this:

I, Collette (this probably is her last name, but the cursive makes it impossible to read) , am here-by certified to the following as of the 1st of November, 3313, and in all years prior to, and following, 3313: Nuzzling, touching, cuddling, nipping, licking, kissing, nibbling, sucking, rubbing, stroking, blowing, caressing, and otherwise engaging physically, mentally, or otherwise, one Caesar Silverberg in cases such as demonstrating affection, appreciation, attraction, comfort, or any such similar good emotion, including, but not limited to, hugging, making out, making love, masturbation, fellatio, noogies, and massaging, as vouched for by Caesar Silverberg himself on this 23rd Day of May, 1995, signature below. Signed: _____________________

Yes. That's totally an accurate and complete list that she takes very seriously.

Super seriously.

In fact she's biting down on her lip to make sure she doesn't end up giggling, partly from nerves alone, and definitely in part due to the amusement she feels over being so daring (so bold!) as to write something as ridiculous as all that. )

Ready for the editor!

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im so sorry c