anewlanguage | (no subject)

When I first got here, and I figured out that no matter what I did I wasn't going to die permanently, I thought the rest of the ship was nuts for panicking every time some worthless psychopath got bored and turned murderer of the day.

I'm rethinking a lot of the shit I thought I "learned" when I graduated, but one thing's the same: I was wrong about that. It matters. And the first person to parrot back what I said when I was an inmate can take a bullet between the eyes, got it?

[Spam for IRIS]

[He does a quick patrol, not because he expects anything to be more wrong than what has already happened, but because he needs to work off some energy before he settles in where he feels he really needs to be.

Which is with his girlfriend who, he's pretty sure, will be at the center of a shitstorm. He goes to her room and knocks, for once.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

routemistress

[She's left her dogs with Tig, and is lying in the dark; there's no music playing, there's not even a bottle opened. Iris flinches when she hears the knock at the door, because this can only be either someone else come to bite her head off again or - which is almost worse - someone to try and cheer her up.

It doesn't cross her mind to not answer. Whichever it is, Iris will at least take it with her chin up. She fingercombs her hair into something less haystacky and opens the door.

She looks up at Cain and says nothing. She's plainly expecting the worst, and equally plainly has no intention of tryng to fight it or duck away from it.]

From:

anewlanguage

[There is a mess in his head, snarls of complicated and conflicting feelings that he would much rather drown with whiskey than look at. But since things haven't been figured out yet, he hasn't touched a drop.

He looks at Iris a moment, and then scoops her up over his shoulder caveman style, steps inside, shuts the door with his foot, and drops her firmly on the bed.

Then he pours her a drink.]

Let's talk.

From:

routemistress

[Iris squeaks faintly in surprise when he scoops her up: she was expecting anger, bitterness, blame to match her own, and having it not appear undoes her. She goes limp in his grasp, letting herself drape gratefully over his shoulder, and there are tears coursing down her face when she lands on the bed.]

'nk you.

[She's small and hunched on the bed, her eyes wide, and she gulps at the drink as though it were an oxygen mask.]

I don't know what to do.

From:

anewlanguage

Right now you drink.

[Which is to say he has no idea, either.]

Like you said. We can't throw him off. Chris...hell, I don't know. He's had to deal with this before, just not as bad as Creed.

From:

routemistress

Chris is being amazing. I went with 'im to take Vic to Zero. It's easy to miss what a man 'e's grown up into 'cause Chris takes after me, 'e doesn't take 'imself serious and doesn't really expect any bugger else to.

[If there's one good thing in all this mess, it was that, and Iris allows her pride to warm her with the whiskey.]

But that just makes 'im easier to underestimate. Vic might be one of the first to make that mistake, but 'e sure as shit won't be the last.