(no subject)

[anewlanguage]

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.]

Comments

[spam]

[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.]

[spam]

[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.

[spam]

[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.

[spam]

[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.

[spam]

[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.

[spam]

[anewlanguage]

I've never spent a lot of time with him, but he's a hell of a Warden.

[He smiles, maybe a little smug, because he's part of why Iris sounds pleased now. Well okay, it's his whiskey, but.]

What's Creed going to do when this doesn't get him what he wants?

[spam]

[routemistress]

'E's going to go quiet. Not for good, but 'e gave Chris 'is biggest gun and Chris never flinched. That counts for a lot with Vic.

'Course, that depends what everyone else does. I've got a bad feeling about Mickey and some of the others, but Chris 'as proved to Vic 'e's worth respecting, now. Now's when they might get somewhere. That's what 'appened with me; only then 'e' disappeared.

Re: [spam]

[anewlanguage]

[He nods, soothed by that almost more than he had been by their original plan. Almost.]

...Talked to Tiffany, make sure she was doing okay with it all. Cassel's a friend of hers.

[spam]

[routemistress]

[That makes her breathe more easily, too; Tiffany is a sore point of his and having her named in the conversation stops her being a hidden landmine.]

Cassel's a friend of a lot of people. I 'aven't really talked to anyone but Chris.

[Because apparently the whole barge thinks Iris is responsible for Creed's actions, and she agrees with them enough to make her miserable about it.]

What'd she say?

[anewlanguage]

[he looks away, sighs]

She got me to agree if anything happens to her, I won't go get revenge.

[routemistress]

[It's like watching a balloon cut loose from its string, bobbing upwards in sudden joy. Iris doesn't smirk out loud, but her lips twitch and her shoulders relax visibly.]

She's right, you know. For one, it's what 'e'll be expecting - you'd be fighting 'im on 'is own ground, playing a game where 'e knows all the moves. That's not 'ow you get someone graduated and Tiffany knows it.

I'm right proud of that girl.

[anewlanguage]

Me, too.

[He isn't quite looking at her, though, but guiltily staring into his hands.]

I don't know how much I care about anyone graduating anymore, Iris. That's the problem.

[routemistress]

[This is serious, and Iris takes it seriously, if gently. She scooches along the bed till she can lay her head on his shoulder.]

It's a lot messier'n more complicated than making someone dead, isn't it? And it's a lot 'arder to see your way through it.

[anewlanguage]

[He puts his arm around her, trying not to hold too tight, trying to keep this fairly casual.]

I get why it's important. I'm just thinking I took a wrong turn somewhere.

[routemistress]

My love. I've taken so many wrong turns in me life I 'ad to draw a new map. It's all right.

[She means it. The important thing isn't to always take the right turn; it's in how you deal with the wrong ones.]

You've never done much with any of the temporary inmates. 'Ow d'you feel about 'aving a permanent one?

[anewlanguage]

Temporary ones just need someone to babysit till they get paired up. A permanent one, I don't have much to teach them unless it's guns and knives.

[routemistress]

Well that's bollocks for a start. You can teach someone 'ow to live with themselves instead of giving up. You can teach 'em that everyone's worth saving. You can teach 'em how to defend themselves and when they don't need to. You can teach 'em how to bring someone that loves 'em a drink and never even think the words I told you so.

[This is when she pulls herself upwards by Cain's shoulder so as to drop a kiss just below his ear.]

[anewlanguage]

[By now, Iris has to know his nonverbal way of saying 'you win'. He slumps against her, closes his eyes.

Okay. She wins. He just needs to get the rest of himself, the parts that feel like they died along with Cass, to believe it]