[OPEN] we expected something

[alittlesweptup]

Date: various; post-zombie attack
Location: Various
Characters: Charlie Cutter and YOU
Summary: Skullduggery Charlie does his homework.
Warnings: None (as of yet, will edit if applicable)
Notes: Get yer pre-mutiny CR building opportunities here!

[CAFETERIA]
[Gathering supplies - food, medical kit - is all vital, but being well fortified isn't what's going to win them anything in the end. So more and more, Charlie can be found with his nose in his tablet reading and making notes, brow furrowed and mouth pinched into a thin line.

Reading, research, quoting lines back - all that he can do. But figuring out how to order his own words properly, anything to do with writing something respectable of his own? Less his forte. Oh, he's a good liar when he needs to be, but he's not stupid enough to think they'll slide through this with a little fast talk.

So he's hunched over a meager lunch from what's left of the cafeteria's stores in the wake of the zombie invasion, carefully making notations in hard copies of old speeches that he's found in the AI's database.

Christ, it's the sort of thing designed to produce a headache.]

[VR ROOMS]
[Charlie hasn't actually spent much time in the VR rooms, but they've got their advantages. Though he doesn't go so far as to bother with constructing anything complete, but rather spends some time tinkering up partial floor plans. It's something he'd usually prefer to have on paper, but resources are scarce and - if he'd being exceedingly honest - he's never been much of an artist.

He runs the builds late in the evening when someone's more likely to go off to one of the other compartments rather than take too close a look at what he's doing, but that doesn't necessarily mean his work always goes uninterrupted.]


(ooc: any format is a-okay and if neither option appeals to you, feel free to throw up something random and I can just tag in as is appropriate.)

Comments

[alittlesweptup]

So you think I'd rather let you run off and do this by yourself, then. [It's not a question. If A equals B and C equals A, then B equals C. He's shit at maths and even he knows that much.]

[totallytrustworthy]

Don't. This isn't about me.

[alittlesweptup]

And it's not about me either! [He barks it, painfully loud and sharp in the dark. There's no excuse for it now - he's had plenty of sleep, a shower, a hot meal. When he goes on, his voice is low and growling and dangerous:] I told you. I'm in this. So don't you pretend that I'm not or that I'm just messing about. I'm serious; you want me out, then just bloody well say so. But until then I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.

[totallytrustworthy]

[Impossible to make out or not, the recoil is noticeable in how quiet she goes before that initial snap is returned with interest on her end. Before she's just as loud, shifting forward in the dark to bring her voice that much closer to his ears.] I don't want you out-- I asked you to stay! [And she should stop there-- let it all sink in-- tells herself that much, but there's not enough time for him to get a word in edgewise before she's hissing out the rest through gritted teeth.] You were the one that shut me down, in case you've forgotten.

[alittlesweptup]

[It's probably better that she get it out all at once because the moment Chloe gives him half the chance, Charlie jumps straight back in: volume and heat in his voice on par with her own.] I didn't shut you down. I let you make a fucking decision! That's not the same bloody thing.

[totallytrustworthy]

Oh for god's sake, I wasn't asking about my own bloody opinion, was I? You knew exactly what you were doing when you shrugged me off and left me on my own!

[alittlesweptup]

Is that really what this is about? Because I didn't take a bloody nap with you? [He's knows that's not why, knows that's stupid and that it's a stupid, inflammatory question to even let past his teeth. But to hell with it.]

[totallytrustworthy]

[There's a sharp noise let out from somewhere down in her throat at that, lip curling back despite the fact that he can't see it.] Oh piss off, Charlie. [He's more likely to feel the heat of her breath that catch the way she flicks her hands dismissively in his direction.]

[alittlesweptup]

[Which, for anyone keeping track, is the wrong thing to say entirely because it just makes him dig his heels in farther. Makes him want to pick.] I'm serious. What're you so cross about? Just say the damn thing and maybe I can do something about it, for Christ's sake!

[totallytrustworthy]

[And that, the way he hones in on specifics, only makes her want to turn tail and head for the door that much more.] What am I so cross about? Did you forget the part where we were just fine before you started acting like I was shoving you out the god damn door?!

[alittlesweptup]

[Maybe it's willful ignorance on his part, but he can't actually pin down the moment she means. Just a series of misplaced words, the two of them picking at each other like carrion birds.

And he's never been anything but physical. Even in the mostly dark, the low light ebbing in from the hall, she can probably make out the way Charlie spreads his arms. Egging on for a fight - a proper one. For her to hit him. Something solid, more easily understood.] Yeah, we were fine. And then suddenly you're jumping down my throat for saying something you apparently didn't like. If you're not trying to boot me, then why've you been dodging me for two damn days?

[totallytrustworthy]

Christ, Charlie, if I wanted you out, you'd be out on your ass already. [Standing there with his arms out like that means he's a prime target for the perpetually primed fuse that is her temper, but when Chloe moves in, she's not aiming to strike-- she's aiming to press by in order to reach the exit behind him. Screw this nonsense.]

[alittlesweptup]

[And if Chloe thinks it'll be that easy, she's wrong. Charlie reaches for her as she tries to brush by: hand catching and holding her upper arm. It's not gentle.] And you think I'm any different?!

[totallytrustworthy]

[If he's hoping to keep a hold on her, it's for the best; She's not shy about tugging hard against his grip, shoulder rolling forward into the angle of his palm. When that fails, Chloe turns on him-- posture rigid, muscles locked-- tone as genuine as it is sharp.] I don't know what to think. [It's all uncharted territory, isn't it? Having a partner, playing the hero. Hard to shake the feeling the floor's about to drop out from under her heels at any second.]

[alittlesweptup]

[He catches her other shoulder as well, anchoring her there. It's purposeful, as genuine (and pointed) as her voice.] Then for Christ's sake, listen to what I'm telling you, yeah? I'm here, alright? And you and I are doing this and then someone else can take the bloody mantle when we've finished with it.

[Because they're sure as hell not especially suited for it - not in the long run; he's always been better with short cons.]

[totallytrustworthy]

[The heaviness of his hand at her shoulder, the warmth of his grip. She'd rather not settle down into the logic of what he's saying or the comfort of callused fingers; it's not in her nature to let her temper die off without running its course.]

You mean after they lock us away for all this.

[alittlesweptup]

[He could say they'll do nothing of the sort, but brushing off what theoretically could be a legitimate concern isn't going to help matters - not here in the dark where they're apparently no longer pretending to not know better.]

They'd be idiots to do as much. [But he's not denying the possibility and maybe that counts for something.]

[totallytrustworthy]

And we're not? [It's almost a laugh when she huffs it out. Almost, but not quite.

Nothing all that funny about it.]

[alittlesweptup]

[Alright, fair point.

It's impossible to see in the dark, but for a beat his jaw goes tight. A muscle in his cheek rises and falls. His fingers tighten briefly on her arms too though, and that much probably translates just fine on its own.]

Don't know about you, darling, but I'd rather do something stupid than nothing at all.

[totallytrustworthy]

Y'know it wasn't easy out there with all those monsters running about. [The subject change is abrupt, intentional: there's no heat to it, just the slowly dying remains of an argument that's-- to put it plainly-- easier to focus on. Pick at.

She leans into the tips of his fingers where they're dug in along the edge of her shoulder.]

[alittlesweptup]

Talk about piss poor timing, eh? [He catches the course change with relative ease, letting her tug him along without argument. To his mind, the sooner they get the hell away from whatever this was, the better.

Charlie eases his grip, scuffs his hands down to her elbows - her wrists. He's not going to hold her hands, but the option's there.] You know- one of these days, something's bound to run smoothly.

[Which is the mildest breed of joke there is.]

[totallytrustworthy]

Oh come on, there was-- [Chloe stops. Thinks.

It takes the better part of a minute before she has to concede the point.] yeah, all right. Fine.

But I'll have you know it was all entirely your fault.

[alittlesweptup]

[The only reasonable response he can muster for that is a long suffering growl-sigh combo, all the air of his lungs heaving out in one ornery breath. Charlie lightly slaps her hands down, releasing her entirely.]

Yeah, yeah. And so was the fire in the library at Alexandria; what else is new?

[totallytrustworthy]

[And the edge of her mouth pulls up into a grin despite everything, (negative reinforcement is her favorite kind) chases the arc of his hands till hers are at his back pockets instead. A routine habit more than any genuine desire to cause trouble, it affords her the chance to settle in against him in the dark-- feel something solid in her hands-- while everything else feels two steps away from disaster.

She thinks briefly about asking why he'd ducked out. Tosses the idea entirely. It's in the past; doesn't matter. ]

[alittlesweptup]

[He can't make out the grin in the low light, but the rest of it comes through just fine. Makes it easy to catch her face with his hands, thumbs set along her jaw on either side. Kissing her when she's this close to him means stooped shoulders and an awkward cant of the hips to make up for the height difference, but to hell with it.

If they're dead set on getting themselves chucked out an airlock, might as well give her a proper snogging on the way out the door.]