ArchivedLogs:Warmth

Warmth
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Thea
In Absentia	2013-11-07 '
Location <BOM> Gardens - Ascension Island and <BOM> Thea's Colony - Ascension Island
Considerably reduced from what they must have been when this place was /actually/ running at full capacity, there is nevertheless a hefty amount of garden space tucked away behind the main cabin of the compound. Somewhat haphazard in its organization, the rows of plants -- mostly vegetables, with some herbs lining the borders -- seem to be chosen somewhat at whim. Despite the disorganized mishmash of crop selection, the ground seems well-tended, fielding the occupants a decent cache of produce three seasons out of the year. It's not a great day for flying, cool and grey and drizzly in keeping with the grim-grey pall that's settled over the quarantined city. It's very early when a dark-winged shape swoops down onto the island, barely dawn yet. Dusk is shivering noticeably when he lands, wings extending and shaking to rid themselves of the worst of their wet; out here it's not /raining/ so much as sporadically misting. He shakes his large wings again, pulling them back in gingerly against his already-dampened back. Thea turns a corner in the, hurrying a bit. Hercules trundles along next to her, with the carapace that usually hides and protects his own wings held out wide to cover Thea while she walks along. Thea is wearing black yoga pants, with simple flip-flops, even with the cold. She's also wearing a gray NYU hoodie, with the sleeves pushed up a bit, and her wings trailing down from underneath to drag on the wet ground. "Hey," she says a little hesitantly when Dusk touches down. "We saw you coming in. How you been?" She's also carrying a handful of greens which someone familiar with such things would recognize as mint leaves. Overall her manner seems conflicted between happy to see Dusk, and possibly nervous about his reaction to her. Dusk's wings shiver again, a brief cascade of droplets showering off of them though many more still glisten against their dark fuzz. "Hey, Thea. Hey, Herc." More than anything he sounds tired, though despite this he manages to summon up a quick smile that resembles his usual warmth. "Been -- weird. /Weird/. Weird, this city's gone freaking crazy, you know? There's dead people wandering my apartment. I thought I'd /seen/ weird but this is like a freaking --" His head shakes. "You been alright out here? /Little/ less crazy maybe than in the -- city?" Thea brightens visibly at Dusk's greeting, and reaches up with her free hand push her damp hair back behind her ear. "Yeah, I heard. I just got back this morning, actually. I've been trying to improve the tunnels and stuff, but we hit a pocket of dead people who'd fallen underground. They came after us and I-" Thea's voice hitches, and she swallows hard, clearly disturbed by the memory. Hercules looks like he's about to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, and then thinks better of it, disguising the motion as an adjustment of his carapace. "I've been ok. I… I was just such a bitch last time we were all… I wasn't sure what would happen back here." She looks down, and shivers suddenly. Glancing back up and Dusk, she asks, "Hey, do you wanna come over to my cabin? I'm baking, so it's super warm in there." Dusk /does/ reach for Thea's shoulder, not with hand but with one large wing that curls against her in a gentle (and kind of damp) drape. "Yeah, it's -- pretty bad out there. Really kind of freakish in general. Sort of worse," he adds, quieter, "when it's someone you know." His wing squeezes down a bit more firmly and then pulls in against his back once more. His arms fold across his chest with another shiver. "Yeah, you said some shit that was pretty out of line," he agrees, "but you were in a rough place. I think we've all kind of been there, this year has been stressful as fuck. Just so long as you --" He trails off, looking a little distracted for a moment. "Sorry, what was I -- sorry." He shakes his head. "Sorry," he says again, "I think I'm -- tired. Wow. Warm sounds /really/ good right now." His arms squeeze tighter around himself as he steps forward towards Thea. "-- So does baking though I usually can't eat most of it. But it always /smells/ so good." Thea reaches the hand not full of mint leaves up to rest on Dusk's wing. Her face says volumes about how grateful she is, even nodding when he mentions her being out of line. "I was totally out of line. It was just-" she sighs, and continues. "There's no excuse. And shit, /you/ don't have to be sorry for anything." When Dusk agrees join her, Thea turns to lead the way. Hercules has an odd expression on his alien face, and basically maneuvers himself to walk between Thea and Dusk, if a step behind, and tries to shield Dusk from the misty rain with the other half of his carapace. When they reach the porch of Thea's cabin, she turns and thanks Hercules. He in turn just nods to her, avoids eye contact with Dusk, and then shakes his wings free. He sounds like a B-52 taking off, but he's gone in just a few moments of thrumming wings, setting about whatever errands he might have. Thea opens the door to the cabin, kicks her sandals off outside the door, and wipes her bare feet on the mat before going in. Inside, the cabin is essentially one big open room, without much in the way of furniture. She has an air mattress in the far corner piled with sheets and blankets in disarray. Also on the far end of the room, opposite the sleeping area is a fireplace with a rug and some pillows in front of it. The kitchenette is along the wall closest to the door, and it looks like a number of things have been set out already. An avocado green mixing bowl with some dark brown goop in it, supporting a wooden spoon looks like it's been awaiting Thea's return. She also has a small rectangular table near the tiny kitchen with four wooden chairs. The table and chairs look like they could be snapped easily if one tried, and certainly couldn't support someone like Hercules. "What about brownies? Can you eat those?" Thea asks, once they're inside. "I mean, it's just from a shitty box-mix, but I got this stuff to spruce it up a bit." Dusk follows along, stopping outside the cabin to shake his wings off again. He wipes his shoes on the mat, too, taking his sneakers off as soon as he steps inside. "Sometimes?" he offers in answer to the question of brownies. "I have kind of a wicked dairy allergy so it depends what's in them." His arms still curl around himself, his shivering remaining even once he's inside, though he looks immensely relieved to be in the warmth. "-- Does he not like me for some reason?" He flicks a wing upwards -- towards the ceiling, really, but in the general direction of the disappearing drone of Hercules's wings. "I have some friends who are working on -- trying to. They're looking into how this spreads -- how to stop it maybe. I'm really hoping…" This trails off with a brief troubled frown. "... most of my friends have been sick. I've been sick. Not really any telling what the incubation on this is, it's been so crazy-different for everyone." "Well, you're in luck," Thea says, with a bright smile. She picks up the empty brownie box and sets it on the counter near Dusk. "This stuff is so cheap, I really doubt there's any milk in it already. It says to add milk, but I only have almond milk here. I'm not allergic or anything, but milk just gives me gut rot." Thea cocks her head at Dusk's question, making her antennae bob briefly. "Who, Herc? I don't think so. Why, did he do something? Although… he has been extra surly since we met this mutant in the underground. And then… the zombies," she says this last quietly, and looks away, picking up an empty drinking glass. She throws in a few of her mint leaves, and then grabs four tiny, little airplane bottles of dark, spiced rum from a cupboard. She starts emptying the bottles into the glass with the leaves and asks over her shoulder. "You like rum?" Dusk picks up the box, turning it around to scrutinize its ingredients before looking up with a grin. "Sweet. I really love brownies." He leans his elbows against the counter, watching as Thea pours the rum. "I like rum. I like mint. This seems like a pretty excellent combination." He grimaces at the word zombies, looking down to the counter as his fingers lace together. "It's so surreal. I keep thinking -- I don't know what I keep thinking, actually. I think it hasn't really all /hit/ yet I still feel like this is some kind of fucked-up video game and eventually I'll turn it off and get back to life." His nose wrinkles as he admits: "Then again, I guess I've felt like that about a lot of the past year. -- You haven't been sick at all, though? That's -- that's good." Thea smiles while she works, when Dusk voices his opinion on the recipe so far. She nods when he talks about it all being surreal. "Yeah, this whole thing is pretty fucked up. They're even quarantining the city. Did you hear? I've been a mutant for a long time, living with some weird-ass shit. But this is all… just… beyond." Thea seems to find real solace in what she's doing. It's obviously not very complicated, but the act of making something comforts her. Her jaw tightens for a moment, and then she intentionally changes the topic. I'd offer you a seat, but I need your help in a sec. Can you grab another glass like this one, out of the cupboard there?" She points with a tip of her head, but grabs a handmixer that must be battery powered. She lowers it into the leaves and rum and starts blending. "I heard. Getting in and out is -- weird. They've shut down all air traffic but, um, just being person-sized is harder to spot at -- at -- night." Dusk shrugs a wing, watching as Thea mixes up the batter. "Oh right, sure." He pushes his way up from the counter to move towards the cupboard and get a second glass. "It's okay, I've been kind of too restless for much sitting, anyway. More energy than I know what to do with." He moves back to Thea's side to set the glass down just beside her. Thea finishes the blending, and when the mixer switches off, the sudden quiet reveals the quickened pace of her pulse, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dusk. She swallows, takes a deep breath and says quietly, "Ok, so just hold that still…" Thea picks up a fine wire sieve, shaped like a slightly concave fly-swatter, and places it over the glass Dusk is holding. Then she picks up the mixing glass with her free hand, and slowly pours the rumy, minty sludge over the sieve. "A cheesecloth would be better," she says, "But I'm pretty sure no one's going to complain if they get a tiny, tiny piece of mint." She smiles and nudges Dusk's shoulder with her own, and then taps the sieve against his glass to get the last of the good stuff out. When it's done dripping, she sets the sludgy thing in the sink for cleaning later. Her long, spider-fingers wrap around the new glass and pours the minty rum straight into the brownie mix. She keeps her eyes on the bowl, mixing it with the wooden spoon. "So… what have you been doing with all that extra energy? I got back this morning and slept for two hours before even starting this little project." Dusk holds the glass still with one hand, his other moving over top of Thea's to also steady the sieve against it. "Mint's delicious, I'm sure it'll be good." The shoulder-nudge is returned with interest, Dusk's wing unfurling to curl gently against Thea's back. His eyes slant sideways towards her with a brief slow inhale, one corner of his mouth curling upwards. "Flying. Dodging zombies. Trying to clear out my neighborhood, really. It's not one of the places yet that's /overrun/ so I can still kind of -- herd the couple that wander down our street, um. Elsewhere." He watches the brownie-mixing with a brief swipe of tongue against sharp teeth. "... We're kind of starting to collect a few," he admits. "We're putting together a, um. Present. For the mayor." Thea takes another slow breath, nestling up against Dusk in his wing-wrap. Her eyelids flutter down a bit, and this close it's possible to actually see the facets of her black orbs as she looks sidelong at Dusk. Pressed up against him like this, it would be impossible to miss her thrumming pulse, especially at her throat, being one of the only places not covered by carapace. She blows out a breath and sets the mixing bowl down. "Finally warm again," she says, so quiet it's almost a whisper. "Pause," she says to Dusk, sidesteps and pulls her hoodie up and over her head, revealing a black, fitted tanktop with slashes in the back for her wings. Her visible sections of chitin are currently a healthy-looking, silvery iridescence. She tosses the sweatshirt over the back of a chair, and steps back to the bowl, and the curve of Dusk's wing. She sighs, back in the warmth again, and nods at the far end of the counter. "Can you hand me that pan?" Dusk swallows, hard, pupils dilating faintly as his eyes lock sideways on Thea's neck. His wing curls in tighter, pulling her in closer to him briefly, and then drops when she moves away to pull off her hoodie. His gaze stays locked on her through this, though, wing fitting back around her once she returns. "Yeah." His voice has dropped lower, a little rougher. "Warm again." His other wing stretches down to the far end of the counter, nudging the pan closer so that he can pick it up and slide it closer to Thea. His hand lifts, afterwards, fingertips touching very lightly to the side of Thea's neck. "-- Your heart's racing." Thea reaches to pour the mixing bowl's contents into the pan, but her hands reveal a tiny tremor. Her pulse is pounding so hard that it's set a tiny rhythm even visible in the tiny bobs of her antennae. She gives up and sets the bowl down next to the pan without pouring it out first, when Dusk touches her neck. "I'm just… not that used to contact. Human contact." She makes a short, breathy laugh, and adds, "Well, human- you know what I mean. I spend so much time by myself… underground. It's… nice. This." She tries to breathe deep, but it turns into more of shuddery, excited breath. She bites her lip, and finally just turns smoothly in the curve of Dusk's wing and presses her mouth to his, heedless of the repercussions. "Contact is good for you, I think I'd wither and die without --" Dusk draws in a breath in the moment before Thea's mouth presses to his. His wing curls around her more firmly, his hand dropping to rest at her waist. There's a small growl that rumbles in his chest, and he returns the kiss deeply, his hand pushing back firmly to press Thea against the counter behind them, the thin drape of his wing softening the counter's hard edge. "Shit yeah, contact is good," Thea gasps when she comes up for air. Her long wings flick out, pressing against the walls in that moment, but they aren't prehensile like Dusk's. They flutter, and then start to relax. Apparently she just needed them to not be between her and the counter. When she feels it press against her, she hops up, shoving things aside with a clatter (but not the brownie mix!), and wraps her legs around Dusk's waist, pulling him tight against her. Her breath is urgent, and her pulse is racing for real now. She lifts her chin in the direction of her bed, and whispers in Dusk's ear, "Take us over there." After the briefest pause she adds, "So… those teeth… like a real vampire?" Dusk's body presses in, one arm curling around Thea's waist tighter. He steals another kiss, briefly, but the words in his ear elicit a shiver, another low growl. He scoops her off the counter, hefting her without any apparent effort; his wing curls in to cradle her against him. The question just earns a sharp flash of teeth in a quick smile; his head tips down as he carries Thea towards the bedroom, teeth sinking in to the side of her neck with little warning. There is pain -- a sharp hard burst of it -- but together with that is a soft and slowly growing flutter of happy-warm euphoria, accelerated in its spread by the bite straight into a vein. Mouth rather occupied now in its press to the side of her neck, there is nothing else but the hungry-pleased rumble in his throat to accompany them into the bedroom.