Remnants of the Earth
AEDOLIS => The Rest of Aedolis => Adstreia => Topic started by: Marjorie on July 01, 2019, 10:14:49 pm
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Sexy things might happen in this thread. You have been warned!
Emrys worked for the Aerospace Exploration Diplomatic Agency... Officially he was an Interplanetary Diplomat. The redacted parts of his file would suggest he was actually a spy. He had worked as a field intelligence officer from the start of his carer. Interstellar strategic planning was right up his alley... he didn't actually design mission to capture or conquer other people's planets, but he did gather data that allowed the people who did to do their jobs. Want to know another government's military strengths and weaknesses, need info. that only a mole in a foreign nation can attain, or need a connection or asset on another planet to hook you up with access to people, places, and things... That's the sort of thing that Emrys supplied.
Today though, was not a day for that. He had come "home" yesterday, from a tour of near-by systems. In a few days he was going back to his other home in Haviah. He sighed, trying not to think about whatever recent trouble Bevyn had likely gotten into while he'd been away the last few months. That boy was a waste of air. At least Jilana was showing promise... maybe one of the younger ones would eventually develop the gift and he'd be able to add a third generation Pilot to the family.
None of that for now though. He tried to put it out of his mind as he turned the corner and headed down a side street. He was dressed too nicely for this part of town - it wasn't a sleazy area or one prone to crime, but he stuck out - looked too expensive for it, in a starched three peace suit. It was a light almost lavender grey suit with a tie that very nearly matched the sky-blue of his eyes. The color paired nicely with his ivory skin and the slight hint of blue in his otherwise blonde hair.
Emrys smiled faintly as he walked into the bar, visibly relaxed, as if someone had pulled out the stick that seemed permanently up his ass based on his posture. "It's been a while Emrys," the bartender said as he smoothed his hands across the polished bar top, "you hanging around for a while this time or just stopping over before your next hop off planet."
"Somehow," Emrys said, "I managed five days of leave and a short assignment back home in Haviah."
"Nice," the bartender turned slightly and picked up a bottle before raising it up toward him slightly, "whisky neat?"
Emrys nodded, and once the drink was poured, it was a double shot, he picked it up and scanned the bar for interesting or attractive faces. There was one, brunette in a corner booth. She was attractive in a toned-down kind of way, but he wasn't really looking at that at the moment anyway. He'd met Sparrow, or fellow Pilot Anderson, in passing before. He might as well say hello to her.
Graceful movements pulled Emrys' lanky frame across the small room, past a few other tables to Sparrow's table. He took a slow sip from his drink. "I hope the evening is treating you well," his voice was deep with a warm timber, and soft around the edges in a way that usually put people at ease without even giving them a mental nudge that he tended to when he wasn't on his home planet - a thing he'd never do here, and especially not to a fellow Pilot, without specific cause and real justification. "Would you mind some company?"
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Sucking on her tongue an unpleasant noise emanated from Sparrow’s mouth. It was hard to decide whether another glass would be in order or if she should just call it a night. From the moment she punched out she had been there, in that exact spot debating after every glass whether to just go home or stay for just one more. It was a vicious cycle of debate and self-discipline that Sparrow was failing at with each turn. Drinking at home was always an option but these days even her apartment just seemed too quiet. Except for Pixie’s gnawing on a spranger bone to count as background noise but even that faded into the lull of silence. There was always the option of hanging out with her squadmates after a long day to help curb the silence and from time to time Sparrow did just that. Today though was a minor change in scenery. Alone, but at one of the few hole in the wall places you would have to know Adstreia to know it existed is where Sparrow found herself tonight. And tonight, she planned to wholeheartedly drink until that silence at home was no longer going to bother her.
This wasn’t a pity party, or a woe is me drinking festival with only Sparrow as the sole attendee. This was her toast to being exactly who she was in and out. Sparrow lifted her almost empty glass as she clinked the air in front of her.
“I don’t give a fuck”, muttered under her breathe as another sip burned her throat. With lips pursed and transformed into a tense smile Sparrow lifted her glass once more, but only to signal a refill was due. Pixie who was always with her at every step, including in a bar, shifted under the table (that he barely fit under) to find a new place of comfort for his continued evening nap.
Once again, her glass was filled, and Sparrow went back to staring off into space as she mulled over the thoughts dragging and dancing along in the back of her mind. ” Breaking up with someone is supposed to make you cry, isn’t it? Am I supposed to cry or feel bad right now?” There was no denying the minor pain in her chest that still remained even after the amount of time that had passed. But it was a pain that was manageable, even more so by the lovely drink in her hand night after night. If anything she saw all of this as just one big lesson. There was no sense in beating yourself up over mistakes, only working towards never making them again. That was exactly what it was, just one huge mistake that she would never make again. It was a stupid impulse that put her job at risk and her own mental well-being in line to being messed with. Yep, he was the last mistake she would ever make in that department again.
The thought process was interrupted by Pilot Noble Broin approaching her table with his own glass of whiskey in hand. Pixie again shifted under the table to see the incoming potential threat only to lay back down after getting a whiff of the man he had seen several times at the flight bay. Sparrow looked him over and deducted he looked exactly how she had seen him many times before. Tall with hair the polar opposite of her own dark auburn mess. Even his suit made her look like something that had crawled from the sewers. Sparrow was sporting a black Hellion’s tank top and a pair of jeans with her less than tamed hair knotted into a bun or potential tumbleweed on the top of her head.
With a simple nod, Sparrow gestured towards the chair at the other side of her table. “Don’t step on Pixie’s tail or you might lose your leg.” She took another sip of her drink and then propped her elbow up to keep the glass near her face. “Or he may lick it like a lollipop. Who knows?”
In truth, Sparrow knew Pixie would never unless commanded to do so. Or unless he did something that made her feel threatened and Pixie acted on instinct. “So… why are you all dressed up like that for? Wedding? Funeral? Party? Creepy obsession with being perfect all the time? Or are you one of those people who dress according to their moon phase or whatever?” Her humor was dry and something she and her squadmates could usually banter back and forth with. Could Emrys handle it? Regardless Sparrow was determined to get laughs out of this. Whether he joined in or became the butt of her next joke was completely up to him.
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Polar opposites, yes, one could call them that. Not just in the way they looked, but also the way they acted, and the work that they did. Emrys had an Upper Cast pedigree and that dictated a certain amount of class and manners no matter where he was, least he ruin his reputation and social standing. Matter-of-fact, being some place like this would probably raise a few eyebrows around certain tables, if they knew he was a regular they would just laugh at the absurdity. He didn't care about that so much, but if he didn't keep up the appearance of how he acted in public it might cause him an issue. Beside how they acted, he was also a spy and she killed people. So yes, they were quite opposite.
Emrys chuckled softly at Sparrow's warning. "I wouldn't dare," he said, regarding the dog for a moment, then making a show of giving Pixie's tail a wide birth, before sitting down. His lips quirked up in a slight smile. "Creepy obsession with being perfect all the time," he shrugged, as if it aught to be obvious.
He put his hand down, for the dog to sniff, and then took another sip of his drink. "May I ask in return," he said a polite expression on his face, but good humor in his eyes, "why you're slumming it tonight?
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With the glass still at her lips, Sparrow took another swig as Emrys confessed to wanting to be perfect all the time. A corner of her lip curled upward at the thought of wanting to be that prim and proper all the time. The building smile was short-lived though at his next inquiry.
“Slumming it?” With a choke she finally set down the half-empty glass.
“This is the kind of place I prefer to be in. People who work hard and just want to relax after a long day come here. I have absolutely no want or need to go to one of those crazy busy nightclubs with irritating loud music.” Holding up a finger Sparrow continued. “Or one of those fancy pants places that shouldn’t even call themselves a bar. Just because you serve alcohol doesn’t make you one. And sipping on sweet champagne while listening to a piano concerto in the background is completely absurd.” It took everything not to gag at the thought of someone considering one of those places ‘fun’.
“Now if you meant wanting to know why I’m here…” she gestured at the lovely surroundings “…. Simply put I am avoiding my apartment because for one it’s disgustingly dirty and I don’t feel like cleaning. Two, it still smells like burnt charcoal after my latest attempt at breakfast. Three, they have more booze here than in my fridge and I don’t have to keep getting up to pour my own glass.”
“And what about you? Why would you be slumming it in a place like this?”
While her words may have come off as combative they were far from it. There was a true curiosity as to why he was in a place like this when he cared enough about his appearance to dress as he did. It was only the whiskey currently rooting its way through her that made her conversation points seem so harsh. Also, the lack of worry of offending anyone, including a Pilot Noble (Shhh don’t tell Grisham).
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Well... he didn't actually, want to be prim and proper all the time, not even perfect really - better than you, yes, but even he wouldn't assess himself as perfect all the time. "Well, like you said... all those seemly places I aught to be spending my time, are, frankly, boring." That was bold faced lie, but one he delivered with the ease of sincere truth and not a flicker of dis-ingenuousness. In fact, he liked packed, loud dance clubs, and quiet, classy coital bars... "I also do prefer a smooth whisky to champagne."
Not to worry, he wasn't offended anyway.
"Besides..." he said, his gaze catching her over the rim of his glass as he took another sip from it, "where else could I find such good company, as yourself?" The corners of his mouth turned up in the kind of smile that made most women swoon. He wasn't really flirting, but he was teasing.
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She offered a simple nod as he explained how truly boring those places were. It was nice to have someone agree with her for once rather than sway her on how great they really were. Even better was his preference to whiskey over champagne. Finally, some good company to sit and have a good drink with. Not that there was anything wrong with other hard liquors, but whiskey had always seemed to hit her just right… that or a good rum.
Instinctively, Sparrow went for another sip before Emry’s next comment. It wasn’t the words so much as the smile that caused her to choke making the whiskey burn even more than usual. It was all quickly overcome though with a solemn look of complete and utter obliviousness that followed.
“Me? Good company?” a laugh escaped as she cleared her throat. “You clearly don’t know me very well then.”
His smile had no effect as the shock wore off and she played it all off as a reaction to her being considered ‘good company’. In her mind, Sparrow had forced herself to believe she was just the opposite of that. She knew she was harsh, rude, disrespectful, etc. It had been made a point early in her life she was an unpleasant creation of Aedolis. That point being something that she had ran with for much of her life towards anyone outside of her small Hellion family.
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Well... now, it was the genuine surprise in response to his smile - she could think whatever she wanted, but he was aware that the response happened in time with his smile. The way he looked at her shifted a little, and he leaned in slightly, the way that people who were interested in something did. She might not have been good company, that was subjective... but she was getting more attractive by the moment. Emrys wasn't used to bluntness, honesty, or even just a lack of care for appearances - he was also used to people wanting or expecting something from him. It was in the very nature of his official and actual jobs though. His whole life was entrenched in lies - acting one way, doing another. As a diplomat in the public eye, people always wanted or expected something from him - as a spy under it all, everything he did and said was usually a lie unless it was in his very redacted files and reports.
It was, in a word, refreshing to meet someone who was straight up honest with him, and wasn't trying to sweet talk something out of him, or attempting to suck up to him to gain political or social favor.
"Perhaps you don't know yourself to well," he countered, casting her a look that clearly said you're more interesting than you let on as he raised his glass up to his lips again, intent on drinking the stuff much slower than Sparrow was.
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Matching Emrys, Sparrow lifted her own glass. It was the last bit of her drink and so she lifted it up to signal for yet another refill after. Her alcohol tolerance was amazingly high for someone of her stature and build. Years of training and nearly killing herself with alcohol poisoning had made for one hardy, whiskey-drinking woman. Her poor liver though probably was on the brink of expiration at the rate she had been putting it back lately.
“I assure you I know myself quite well. I spend enough time by myself to know what kind of person I am.” With a freshly filled glass, she took another swig. “I did convince someone once that I was a bar of lavender soap.” As if challenging him Sparrow narrowed her gaze. “I am very good at letting people know only what they need to know about me.”
“So Mr. Fancy pants. I can call you that right? Mr. Fancy pants?” Without even waiting for a response she continued. “Well Mr. Fancy pants, tell me more about yourself. What do you do for fun? Where are you always coming and going from or to? Why do you think the color purple is good in a suit? These are the mysteries I am dying to know.”
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"Sometimes," Emrys said, "people reveal more about themselves by the things they leave out." He smirked when she said she'd convinced someone she was a bar of soap. "I wonder..." he said with a touch of real curiosity, "do you smell like lavender soap, then?" Now he was wondering what she smelled like - what kind of soap did she use, did she use a scented body lotion? All... interesting topics, he wasn't quite ready to think she wouldn't kick his ass for asking yet.
Emrys' smile deepened to a grin, as he finished off the last of his drink and ordered another... make that one to her... was it around 4 or 5 by now? He hadn't been here when she's started. He brushed his fingers lightly against the heavy, but very soft fabric of his slacks. "Well, yes," he said, "my pants are quite fancy, and rather expensive."
He paused a moment to thank the waitress to deliver his new dink before answering Sparrow's questions. "I'm always coming and going from work. Keeping up interplanetary relations of Aedolis is a never-ending task."
As for the comment about his suit, he made a face of mock offence. "Do you not like it?" he looked distressed, but in a playful way. "I rather thought the color brought out the blue in my eyes. Please let me know if it is terrible, I will be sure to reprimand my tailor for letting me be seen in public as such."
Emrys gave the answer to her first question last though. "What I do for fun... well, I'm a social creature, I enjoy life the most with others." That was mostly true, anyway, but his demeanor left no doubt that it was honest sincerity, "I like meeting and getting to know new people, I enjoy dancing, but not formal balls," he made a face, "I enjoy shopping, for clothes, mostly." He had a lot of credit to his name, money was never an object for him.
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She squinted when asked if she smelled like lavender soap. Part of her was curious if he already knew the answer and had some sort of supersonic smell. Of course, she smelt like lavender soap. She had her own line of lavender-scented bath products and got them for free because of it. Why waste a single credit on something readily available and free?
“I smell like a mixture of shit and probably jet fuel…” she pretended to sniff her arm for a second. “... Perhaps a hint of some floral bullshit but I assure you it’s mainly shit.”
As Emrys explained his work Sparrow traced her fingers over the brim of her glass. Interplanetary relations made sense as to why she saw him so often. Being a part of a squad that monitored the flight bay put her right in the center of most coming and going. When he joked about his suit Sparrow pretended to carry a foreign accent for a moment “It’s absolutely dreadful. You must fire the incompetent tailor at once.”
Going on he explained how he was a social creature as most were. With the talk of social balls, Sparrow couldn’t help but form hundreds of little jokes about people who would go to those sorts of things.
“Meeting new people can sometimes be fun, or it can be boring and a waste of time. I tend to stick with the group that I know and trust. I suppose since I see you enough at work, even if we don’t talk, that you could be considered ‘okay’. If you weren’t, I would have already signaled for Pixie to grab your balls or something along those lines. He’s quite good at fetch. Shopping, on the other hand, sounds completely awful and boring. I make it a priority to only buy things I know I will use until it literally falls apart. That is unless I get it for free.” Sparrow tugged at the Hellions tank top as an example.
“The way I grew up I saw how wasteful people can be sometimes. It bothered me to no end how good things get thrown away like trash.” She paused at her very own statement. Something about it caused a pang of discomfort in her chest. Being thrown away like trash… like it never mattered at all. Unlike the many times before Sparrow emptied her glass in one breath rather than in small sips. It was obvious her mood had shifted as she stared into the now empty glass.
“But I don’t give a single fuck.” That was right. She wasn’t going to give that mistake the satisfaction of being upset over it.
“I’m tired of sitting. Are you tired of sitting?” Her words were still only slightly slurred as she pushed back her chair to stand up. “Let’s go for a walk or something.” Pixie shot up at the mention of a ‘walk’. “Even better is that even though it’s dark out we can totally see! You’re like a flashlight!” Sparrow whipped around to look at him. “Or a ghost!”
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Emrys took in an over exaggerated breath threw his nose. "Best smelling shit I ever smelled then" and no, he couldn't actually smell her at this distance. He'd have to be well into her personal space for that.
"Absolutely," he agreed about the tailor - he actually had one, and of course, he wasn't going to fire her anytime soon. She created works of art for him to wear, really, and the way she adjusted the cut of his dress uniforms... nothing ever felt or looked so good as the clothes she made for him.
"Pity, about the shopping," he said, "I could imagine you'd look stunning all dolled up." He was going to say more, however; stopped himself when Sparrow shared something real, something intimate and personal. He forgot, sometimes, how easily he gained people's trust - even if she shut herself down quickly. His expression shifted to something earnest and kind. The 'but I don't give a fuck', clearly changed the subject though, so he did as well, adding something light-hearted and teasing. "But I do recycle. I would never just... throw things," or people, "away."
When she... told him they were going for a walk, Emrys nodded and then tossed back the rest of his half full glass of whisky. Make that two to her... who knew how many. "Of course," he said in a teasing gesture of chivalry, "whatever the lady wishes," and offered her his arm when he rose to his feet.
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’Whatever the lady wishes’
Sparrow wanted to gag at the very thought of being considered a ‘lady’. As they stood, she couldn’t help but side-eye him with a look that made it clear she was judging him all over again. To add insult to injury he offered his arm as if she needed escorting across the harmless bar. All of it made her stomach churn the same way it did after several hours of zero gravity training. Or it could have been the alcohol finally settling into her system now that she was standing….
Either way, Sparrow knew she didn’t like it and was going to put a stop to it right there.
The judgment faded as a smartass smirk spread across Sparrow’s lips. This was something she had done several times before and Emrys was about to learn just a little bit more about Pilot Echo Sparrow Anderson. It started with the feeling of her hair standing on end just like when socks are rubbed on the carpet for too long. It built and waited within her for that perfect moment of release beneath the invisible barrier of her skin. The anticipation of his reaction was almost too much as she slowly went to wrap her arm around his. Of course, it was all just an act to get the point across that she was neither a lady nor needed escorting in any shape or form. She was a Hellion dammit.
At the moment of contact Sparrow exhaled as the static electricity traveled from her skin to his. It wasn’t enough to permanently harm him but more than Sparrow would have given a civvie for touching her. The thought of hurting him didn’t really cross her mind, or the thought of sending a shock into a Pilot Noble. Sparrow simply wanted to get her point across. No touch.
Pulling her arm back to her own side Sparrow continued on walking, laughing as she made her way to the door.
“Come on fancy pants”
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Well, frankly, Emrys hadn't touched her, she had touched him... he had merely offered her a nicety. The jolt caused a viable spark on his whole suit, and he yanked his arm back, reflexively widening his stance, turning so he half faced her still moving, and loosened as if preparing for a more definitive physical assault - which of course, he knew wasn't actually going to come. By the time he'd taken a second step after the little shock, Emrys looked like nothing in the world had happened at all. He did not offer her his arm again though, and made a mental note not to offer such niceties as those in the future.
Emrys even managed to crack a rather convincing smile.
"Did you have a direction or destination in mind?" he asked, keeping step with Sparrow, but minding the couple inches of distance between them. "Even if you don't," he added, "the weather is rather nice tonight... I'm not against a little aimless wondering."
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With the jolt, Sparrow half expected a more explosive response. At this point, she couldn’t quite figure out why Emrys was still wanting to walk with her. From the moment he had sat down at her table she had been a far cry from polite. On a normal night, these types of exchanges usually ended with the other guy scooting away. Yet, Emrys stayed and Sparrow did not know whether to be impressed or afraid. Was he staying because he was secretly a serial killer?
’ I’d like to see him try.” Her own private challenge to have anyone try and do something like that to her.
“Uh… aimless wondering sounds fine. It’s been a while and I tend to get into trouble if I go looking for something.” The trouble she was referring to being the onslaught of PR nightmares she had created for the Hellions in the past. It wasn’t like she went looking for a way to get into trouble. Most of the time the trouble found her and Sparrow simply handled it in her own special way. In her mind being cordial and respectable to someone who was clearly bothering her was just not possible.
The generated air was indeed nice for the night. Especially how clear it made the sky look above the dome. It wasn’t often when the weather in the wastes cooperated with the synchronized and generated weather within Adstreia. The clarity was almost calming to her otherwise constantly combative mindset. Sparrow was visually relaxed as she walked, looking up and taking in the view. Pixie picked up on Sparrow’s now calm mind and also relaxed with his walk.
“Have you ever been outside the dome? Like… out in the wastes between the cities without the security of the rail or ships?”
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Emrys nodded amiably and allowed Sparrow to guide them without actually falling in step behind her. He could sense her confusion ans curiosity about him, but didn't press. He also sensed the way she relaxed, and he decided that, she looked a lot more attractive with all the lines of tension let loose from her body.
"Well... not outside... like exposed to the environment, but in a protective suit, once." He gave a rueful smile and shrugged, "My job as an Interplanetary Diplomat," read that as spy,"requires I sometimes tend to and make reality the eccentric tastes and curiosities of foreign and domestic... ah... higher ups." Meaning any number of people who outranked him in the grand scheme of things be they military or politicians. He glanced up at the stars, and realizing how rarely he'd actually been able to see them threw the dome, found himself staring a moment at the serenity of the view, before he cut his gaze back to Sparrow.
"It's not so very interesting out there... the air, of course, is prone to clouds of noxious gasses, and basically everything's dead out there."
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“So you schmooze a bunch of other fancy pants people with fancy food and fancy entertainment. That sounds horrible.” Truly, people pleasing was never Sparrow’s strongest suit. So thinking of doing it for a living sounded god-awful to her.
Noxious gasses, everything dead or quickly becoming dead, not interesting. Yep, a pretty accurate description of the hellscape that Sparrow had survived in for an entire week with a broken helmet and shorted chip. If she hadn’t been an electro and unable to rewire and charge her Com for a brief encrypted message she probably would have died out there. Talking about it was something her therapist suggested to get over the trauma the entire incident had caused. Talking about it also meant Sparrow had to have a conversation with others about a very vulnerable time in her life.
“I’ve been out there.”
Pixie whimpered as he picked up on Sparrow’s change in emotional state. He had been trained for this should another PTSD attack be looming.
“You described it perfectly. It’s completely uninhabitable and too dangerous.” Averting her gaze to Pixie she continued. “I was testing out a new Pilot Assist program in one of our jets out in the wastes. Mine malfunctioned and caused a total system failure.” Sparrow could hear the alarms from the jet in the back of her mind. “I was forced to bail on the aircraft and crashed alone out there. My helmet was cracked, and my gear fried. I had to emit a field to brace my landing and so it shorted out everything, including my chip.”
“I survived for 7 days before Grisham found me. I had crashed so far from the jet they weren’t able to locate me at first. They were 7 days of hell so you are right.” Sparrow finally turned to Emrys. “Nothing interesting out there.”
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Emrys sensed the change in Sparrow as quickly as Pixy had. Well... he passively picked up on the emotions of everyone within a range that could be described as being in eye-shot of him (even threw buildings and other obstacles that prevented him from actually seeing them). So there was no surprise there, however; he also happened to very keenly understand emotions - and emotional damage, which seemed to be the case here. Emrys didn't interrupt, sensing importance in the moment - sharing a personal trauma, with (he realized) he amounted to nearly a perfect stranger was rare... but he also was aware of how easily people connected to him and came to trust him - he banked on that, in fact. It wad vital to his job, but he also longed to be able to connect to others in that way in return. He realized he was personally flawed in that. What he couldn't have himself though, he deigned to give to her at the moment though. He gave her undivided, and very rarely, nonjudgmental attention.
"It's incredible your survived," he said when she'd seemed to finish, stating the obvious, but also reflecting back at her that she was indeed lucky, and his tone suggested a touch of gratefulness that she had, indeed, survived. "I can't immagine how difficult it was for you out there." Well he could, but not having been in the circumstance, he couldn't immagine how she had actually felt then. They were the open-ended kinds of statements that encouraged people to elaborate or not, as they saw fit... and then he left comfortable silence, with no pressure for her to give more in their wake.
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Therapy had helped a lot with Sparrow’s trauma. Small steps from when the incident had happened to now made her panic attacks to almost completely stop. She had found that talking about it really did help a lot even if she was the type of person to not open up about her personal life. Life would have been easier if she could have kept going on acting like it didn’t phase her. However, doing that in the beginning only made things worse. Opening up about her experience in the wastes was what she needed to get past the entire thing.
“You sound like my therapist.” His response was almost a mirror to how her therapist had first reacted to her story.
“Stop trying to please me like you do with your other fancy pants friends.” Sparrow had reverted to her normal self by then. It was time to call him on his actions from the minute he sat at her table back at the bar. “What’s your game plan here Emrys?”
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Emrys cracked an only slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry," he shrugged, clearly not actually sorry, "I'm an empath." He tapped his temple briefly with his right pointer finger, "it comes to me naturally." He was also trained in all kinds of psychology, though he was not a therapist, the better to manipulate people with. It wasn't what he was trying to do here though.
Then he smirked, when she called him fancy pants again. "Oh, is that what you though? I was trying to please you?" That smirk turned into a wide, teasing grin. "Is it working?"
"Well," he said, "despite what I believe to be an actual attempt to make yourself unattractive most of the time, I've always found you attractive... and I was hoping to take you home to my bed --- assuming of course, you wouldn't electrocute me if I did." If she wanted blunt and on the nose, he could give her that.
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From the start of their conversations, Sparrow did not know whether to be humiliated or humbled by Emry’s responses. It was almost like every exchange was a calculated way of completely cutting past the hostility Sparrow was laying out. The fact that he was an empath only furthering Sparrow’s concern that he was twisting things in his favor.
The admittance of always finding her flattering was another statement that left Sparrow confused. Was he telling her that because he wanted her to believe it was true? Was saying that he wanted to take her home another way of him twisting this entire conversation?
There was a pause as Sparrow squinted trying to muster the correct combination of words for a dignified response. This was truly a rare occasion that she found herself speechless and unable to come back just as fast with a quick wit cut down. When it did finally hit her, she couldn’t help but mirror the teasing grin he had been flashing at her.
“Some guys like that.” Her brow was raised as she crossed her arms. “Regardless, why didn’t you just say so from the beginning? I really only have one condition for these kinds of arrangements.” Sparrow paused again to build some form of suspense.
“Do you have ice cream? Preferably the kind with little chocolate swirls and nuts in it?” Pixie started wagging his tail at the mention of ice cream. Lately, he and his mom had been eating a lot of it.
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Emrys frowned softly. He was used to that reaction. People always wondered how genuine he was when the found out he was an impath. “I wasn’t,” e said gently, “manipulating your feelings. I wouldn’t, not with a fellow pilot.” That was mostly true. He WOULD in the line of duty, but not here, now, or like this.
“Ice cream?” His eyebrows rose comically, “It’s been ages sense I’ve had ice cream. Sense before I was a candidate.” There was clearly a story there, he might let her pry it from him later. For now... “I don’t have any, but let me call is a car to take us to the nearest store. I’ll get you whatever you like.” He looked at Pixie thoughtfully. “And whatever sort Pixie likes as well.”
Emrys pulled out his phone and in the space of a few minutes they had, well not a cab, they were usually gross, but there was a car and driver to take them shopping. He opened the door for her, and then assuming she’d let pixie in beside her got in on the other side.
-
Before she could protest to a car Emry’s had already called one in. She wasn’t surprised to see that it was something more extravagant than a cab. It almost bothered her that he wanted to pay for the ice cream too, but she figured free ice cream wasn’t something worth protesting. What bothered her more was that he didn’t have any ice cream to begin with. What kind of person doesn’t always keep ice cream on standby?
When the car arrived, Sparrow called for Pixie to hop in after her. Surely enough he obliged and sat in the seat with his nose already making marks on the window. Sparrow reached over and cracked the window enough for him to stick his head out, one of his favorite things to do when in a moving piece of machinery. The car itself reminded her of when her adopted parents would escort her around.
She didn’t like it.
“I vote we walk from the store. I don’t like cars and drivers and all this fancy pants bullshit.” At least she was honest and not the type to let things build up that bothered her. “Also, what kind of psychopath doesn’t enjoy ice cream from time to time!?” She had shifted in the car to face him. “You are not a candidate anymore. You have freedoms, you can do whatever you want ‘within reason’.”
-
Emrys gave a mock pout. "You don't like anything fancy... not even my fancy pants?" Well, he really hoped that she didn't hate everything fancy... he was pretty fancy just to look at him, and there was all kinds of fancy all over his apartment.
Emrys almost flinched, and it showed in his expression for the blink of an eye. "Not for decades now," he concurred, about him not being a Candidate anymore. "But I..." He paused, for the very first time sense approaching her this evening, looking a touch awkward and insecure... vulnerable even. "It was my thirteenth birthday, the last time I had ice cream... It reminds me of my mom," he said, and the care free, easy going, loving even, child who had died in the ATC, the person he couldn't reach or touch anymore. "I don't talk to her much anymore."
-
“Fancy is my definition of over the top and not really needed I guess. I mean you do need your pants but why do you need dress pants like those out and about on a night like tonight.”
When his expression changed Sparrow was thrown off again. Was this another tactic or was he genuinely bothered by having ice cream at home? Once he explained Sparrow couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. It was true that the ATC was brutal. She remembered seeing other candidates disappear into a shell of who they once were while in the program. Sadly, based on what little he had said it seemed Emry’s was one of those candidates.
“Well then maybe you should pick up your Com and give her a call because going that long without ice cream should be against the law.” It was an attempt to lighten his mood a little. Even if he was a ‘fancy pants’ that she barely knew, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for him. “But please for the love of Aedolis don’t picture your mom while I am eating ice cream after we have banged.” That was something Sparrow knew she would never be able to live down.
-
"Well," he said, tilting his head to the side, as if considering, "that depends on what you're trying to do. Consider my job, and the sorts of circles I walk in, and the relationships I'm required to maintain - fancy is what those people expect and respect. If I don't measure up to their standards, then I can't expect them to ever let me into their circles." It was the games of the high cast. He had been born into them, and he played them well. It helped his ulterior motives with the politicians quite a bit also.
Emrys smiled, doubtful. Even if he did call her, what the fuck would he say? She still tried, a few times a year, with less and less frequency over the past two decades, to reach out to him - to reconnect. He hadn't been able though, he had tried, but he failed every time.
"Oh," he said, grinning, and looking her over pointedly, for the first time loosing his polish, and looking at her like any hot-blooded man would an attractive woman, "I don't think that will be an issue." He leaned toward her, so he could breath in her sent threw his nose - yes, she did smell like lavender soap, and he hesitated slightly - considering if she'd electrocute him for a fraction of a second before he closed the distance between them with a kiss.
-
The kiss had caught her off guard but was still welcomed. Sparrow didn’t have it in her to shock him after learning what little she just had about him. She even leaned into him and brought a hand up to his shoulder to deepen the exchange. If things kept escalating, they may never even make it to his place.
Despite the heated exchange Sparrow couldn’t fill the empty space she wasn’t even aware existed until a few months ago. Perhaps that was why she had jumped into such a deep kiss so quickly, to see if Emry’s had what the few others recently hadn’t. At this point, she knew that the emptiness would never be replaced.
At the break of the kiss, Sparrow sat back, biting her bottom lip as her perspective of the clean and gleaming Pilot Noble Broin began to change. She knew she would never love another again, but that did not change the desire she had for Emrys at that moment. She didn’t need love to do what they were about to, and Sparrow was perfectly fine with that.
“Ice cream”, she reminded him as she sat back in the seat again, still biting her lip. “We had a deal”.
-
As Sparrow leaned into Emrys and deepened the kiss, he slid across the seat a little closer to her. His fingers slid up the back of her neck into her hair. Suddenly, he thought that his three peace suit had WAY too many layers. The kiss broke too soon. He wanted more, but she was talking. I’ve cream. He kicked his lips, then smirked. She tasted like whiskey. “Don’t worry,” he teased, “I’m a man of my word. You’ll have your ice cream - whatever kind you want and anything to go with it.”
A few long minutes ticked away before the car came to a stop.
Emrys wasn’t looking for love either, far from it. He was looking to fill the void inside of him though, eve if only for a little while.
Emrys scabbed his chip, paying for their ride. “Don’t wait for us,” he said, “ the lady wants to walk from here.” He looked at Sparrow. “My place isn’t far from here anyway.”
Inside the store, Emrys pushes a cart along as the walked toward the frozen foods.
-
There that word was again.
’Lady’
A descriptive term that Sparrow felt just wasn’t meant to ever describe her in any way. If not for the heated kiss, she may have shocked the hell out of him again just for saying it. The disdain for it put a sour taste in her mouth and it showed.
“Please stop calling me that.” It didn’t matter if it was a simple pleasantry or a way for him to show he had manners. She hated it, plain and simple.
Sparrow and Pixie walked ahead of Emrys and his shopping cart. How much ice cream did he think she planned on getting any way? Once at the line of freezers Sparrow brought a finger to her chin as she mulled over the selection. She knew she had originally wanted a chocolate swirls and nuts blend but now she wasn’t quite so sure. Naturally, her attention was mainly on the generic branded ice cream selection. It never made much sense to her as to why someone would pay more credits for practically the same damn thing.
Eventually, she set her sights on a container of red velvet cake ice cream. She had seen it before and planned on trying it in the comfort of her own apartment at some point that week. Now was as good a time as any so she popped open the door and grabbed it.
“Ice cream acquired fancy pants.”
Rather than placing it in the cart, Sparrow carried the container, still perusing the store looking for one more item. Walking horizontal to the isles Sparrow read the descriptors above them clearly with a mission in mind. It didn’t even cross her mind to look and see if Emrys was still pushing the empty cart behind her as she quickly ducked into the aisle she was looking for. Again, she began scanning shelves, but this time knew exactly what she wanted.
“Aha!” Sparrow reached out and pulled a soap set from the shelf. “You wanted to know what I really smelled like? Well, here it is.” In her hands was a set of Lavender scented bath products with one of her official Hellion’s photos and a statement on the front of the packaging. She remembered the photo was also on the cover of Aedolis Health and Fitness a while back. “Feel free to rub it all over your body….”
No harm in some shameless promoting.
-
“Alright,” he said easily, it was really just an automatic form of a nicety he paid people like referring to people by rank, or saying please and than you. “Sparrow,” he tried her name out of his lips. He was still following her down the aisle with the cart, and one of them struck a chord in him. Cherry vanilla, an old fashioned classic, exactly the sort his mother would have chosen, but he wasn’t even thinking about that at the moment. He dropped it into the cart.
Emrys smirked when she handed him the lavender bathing products. It was rather advertised toward women, he thought. “I don’t know if lavender is my scent,” still he took it from her and put it in the cart, “I’m more of a cinnamon spice kind of guy.” And if she did bury her nose against his skins he’d find a very light scent of cinnamon, clover, and vanilla that came from his rather expensive bath soap.
“Did you want any,” he made a motion with his hand toward another aisle, “toppings or anything to go with that?”
-
Cinnamon spice, how typical. Sparrow had found that most men preferred to smell like food. Perhaps it was because people loved food so much? She looked down at the tub of ice cream wrapped in her arms and pondered what a red velvet body scent would be like. Yep, most definitely why.
“I’m good with what I’ve got.” Sparrow patted her hand against the side of the tub with a pressed smile. “Don’t need anything extra fancy to make this taste good. Or at least I hope considering I’ve never tried it. Have been wanting to for a while though.” Her eyes flicked down to the cherry vanilla ice cream in the cart. Was that the kind he ate before being a candidate? More questions about her acquaintance to pile on for later.
She drummed her fingers over her tub of ice cream before stepping off towards the registers. Standing there and staring while wondering about his ice cream tendencies would’ve just made things more awkward. Pixie’s nails against the cold and hard floor could be heard in stride behind her. When at the register Sparrow picked up a stick of jerky and threw it on the belt next to her ice cream.
“For Pixie…”
-
Once all their tings were scanned Emrys paid for them before Sparrow could object, weather or not she intended to object. He picked up the bag - they had send got much and then headed out of the store with Sparrow and Pixie. This time, he was leading the way, though he kept beside her not in front of her.
“My apartment is just this way,” he gestured in the direction, “and around the corner,” about half a city block away. His apartment was in what could only be called a swanky looking modern building. There was even a door man at the entrance, who recognizing Emrys, tipped his hat to them, said “good evening Mr. Boin,” and held the door open for them. They took an elevator to the fourth floor and his door opened to a swipe of his chip and a code punched into a key pad. Inside the apartment was elegant, polished steel, clean line, and shiny wooden surfaces. The door opened into a living room furnished with a small sofa and plush chairs centered around a fireplace. The kitchen and a hallway was visible from there.
-
Pixie and Sparrow walked while sharing the jerky stick purchased from the store. Every few moments Sparrow would rip off a small piece and offer it to the mammoth of a dog followed by doing the same for herself. With each small treat, Pixie licked his snout in earnest as he awaited more. Unfortunately for Pixie, the stick was not infinite and before long it had run out.
Once at Emrys’s building Sparrow couldn’t help but dart her eyes from sight to sight as she took in the extravagance of where he lived. Inside of his apartment, it was no different as she took a few steps in and let out a long-surprised whistle.
“So, this is how the fancy pants population lives?” It was a rhetorical question as she rolled her fingers over the tops of his shiny countertops. “To each their own I guess…”
Sparrow could never see herself living in a place like this. Even if she ever did make Noble status she wouldn’t want to live in a place as nice as his. To her, it was all a materialistic cover. His shiny countertops, plush chairs, even the fireplace were just objects in an otherwise blank space. The place was nicely decorated but there was no… character.
Acting as if she had been there a thousand times before Sparrow managed to find the freezer in the polished kitchen and quickly deposited her ice cream inside.
“Do you have a spare bedroom?” Her eyes locked with Pixie who immediately let out a light whimper. “If we don’t separate him, he WILL try and eat you.” The large black dog perked up when Sparrow smiled at him. “He is just very protective…”
-
Emrys chuckled. “Well yes, I suppose it is,” he said in response. He didn’t mention that this little apartment was his second home. His real home was a much more spacious apartment where his family lived at the capital. That was a pace he could entertain. It might as well have been a mansion comaired to this place. This was, well this was just for him.
Emrys frowned softly. “I’ve turned it into an office, it’s a secure room. Sorry, I can’t even let you in there. There is a bathroom down the hall though.” He moved to the kitchen and stowed the ice cream in the freezer, then moved closer to Sparrow, sliding a hand across the back of her hips until his arm was around her. “It’s this way,” he said guiding her with a light press of his hand, “I don’t want to be eaten.”
As they walked down the hall, they passed a room with a security door. The room had been led lined, tough Sparrow wouldn’t know that, she would be able to see there was a chip scanner and key pad lock on it. The next door was normal, and he opened it to reveal a spacious bathroom, which whole spotless, appeared highly unused. “Will this work.”
-
Biting her lip Sparrow walked with Emrys to the bathroom. His hand pressed against her caused a slight tingle as she anticipated what the night would hold for them. She was so focused on his touch that she had almost forgotten why they were walking to the bathroom, to begin with. Well, that was until she felt Pixie paw at her leg.
“Oh… um yeah. It’s plenty big enough.” Sparrow then motioned for Pixie to go in. She took a moment to get him comfortable before leaving him alone in a strange room. Every time she felt guilty leaving him like this. Thankfully, Pixie was happy wherever he was so long as Sparrow wasn’t that far away.
After the door clicked shut Sparrow turned her attention back to Emrys.
-
Emrys let Sparrow get Pixie settled and once the door shut, and she was near again, he slid his hands along her sides and drew nearer still, so he could press a heated kiss to her lips and savor the taste of her lips. There was another door on the other side of the hall. His bedroom. It was a destination that was currently only a vague goal in his mind. He had way too many damned layers of formal bullshit on.
Unwilling to break the kiss just yet, one of his hands slid to the small of Sparrow’s back as the other came up to try and loosen the noose around his neck.
-
It would be a lie to say that Emrys lips did not have a very distinctive sweet taste. As each second passed Sparrow savored his distinctive flavor. That combined with his hand running up the small of her back she pressed herself closer to him craving more.
While Emrys battled his tie Sparrow grasped at the hem of her tank top and feverishly pulled it up, breaking their kiss for a moment to completely pull it over her head. Beneath it Sparrow wore a simple black sports bra, yet another article of her clothing with a Hellions logo on it. The racerback bra partially covered the flock of small birds flying up her shoulder while her lowcut jeans gave a glimpse of the large dragon tattoo on her left hip. Beyond the tattoos were many small scars. Her skin was far from flawless before her fateful crash and even more less so afterwards.
With the tank top now discarded in Emrys’s hallway, Sparrow pressed against him again. Her fingers traced up the sides of his jaw and into his hair as he carried out his own battle against layers of clothing. She couldn’t help but let out a lighthearted laugh into his lips as she thought of how much he was probably regretting his many layers now.
-
Emrys caught his breath as Sparrow lost her tank top, but his tie finally let go of him and he let it fall to the ground. His jacket quickly following. He hummed with pleasure, enjoying the feel of her fingers in his short hair. He always had liked the feeling of a lovers fingers in his hair. The warmth and soft curve of Soarrow’s breasts pressed against him was wickedly distracting, and he fumbled with the buttons of his vest. One of his hands abandoned the task to slide past the strap of her bra and tease at the flesh beneath.
A frustrated sound escaped Emrys, before the buttons finally came loose. He didn’t bother taking off the vest, instead, his now free hand slid over Sparrow’s hip, fingertips lighting on the dragon tattoo, before sliding lower to to grab a handful of her rear as he pressed her back to the wall and captured her lips in another kiss.
-
The wall pressed harder against her back mixed with Emrys hand on her breast forced a gasp from Sparrow. With his hand gripping at the flesh of her bottom, Sparrow entertained his kiss a little longer before trailing her lips along his jaw and downward on his neck. It was amazing how at the beginning of the evening Sparrow had just planned on going out, getting wasted, and then going home to sleep. There was never the plan of a hookup, especially with Pilot Noble Emrys Broin. There was also no way Sparrow could have imagined ever being in his apartment, much less pressed against his wall in the compromising position she was in now.
Funny how life worked out sometimes.
Freeing her hands from his beautiful hair Sparrow trailed her hands down his sides and then pulled them in towards hers to begin unzipping her jeans. Her fingers fumbled on the small piece of metal, her mind in a forced haze by the urgency to remove anything that could be considered a barrier on her skin. Managing to finally get the zipper undone she moved onto the button next, again fumbling with an otherwise simple mechanism. Once free she left it open as she turned her focus back on Emrys neck. Funny how his skin could look even better the closer she was to it. Even funnier how all she could smell was a unique combination of cinnamon and spice that caused something deep within her to crave him even more.
” Yep, totally why,” Sparrow’s thought process going back to the grocery store from earlier that night.
-
When Sparrow gasped, Emrys grinned against her.
He hadn’t gone out with the intention of hooking up either. He HAD made his way toward Sparrow back at the bar with that intention though. He couldn’t have guessed she would have been there when he’d first walked in the door though.
As her lips payed along his neck, Emrys made a soft sound of pleasure. He tilted his head to give her better access. Sparrow’s fumbling fingers at the fly of his pants caused enough contact that it pulled a low moan out of him. Once his pants were undone and hanging loosely off his hips, he pressed his hips forward against her. His body seeking more points of contact.
“Mmm...” The feel of her lips and tongue playing along his neck was delicious. The traced the shell of her ear with his tongue, as his hand slid free from her bra only to slide under it and tug it upward to free her from it, even though he was loath to pull her lips away from him.
-
Again, their exchange broke as Sparrow lifted her arms over her head for the bra to come up and off. Once free Sparrow pressed the back of her scalp against the wall as Emrys played with her ear. Were they even going to make it to a bed at this point? She thought for sure they wouldn’t even make it out of the car earlier yet they somehow managed to get from there, to the store, and then his apartment.
“Emrys…” His name almost too painful to get out as every single inch of Sparrow’s body was screaming at her for interrupting their moment. Sparrow even had to clear her throat as she continued. She gently pushed him back before she reached down while kicking her legs back one at a time to remove her shoes. “This is hardly fair. You have way more layers than I do.” She then gestured at her breasts, teasingly running her fingers across them while biting at her lip. “So why don’t you show me to your bedroom and maybe then you can catch up.”
-
Emrys resisted just a little when Sparrow pushed him back. His gaze followed the path of her hands, before flicking up to meet her eyes again. He turned half way, gesturing to the lone door on the other side of the hall way, before catching her by the wrist and pulling her toward him as he made for the door.
“I never like to play fair,” he teased as they crossed the threshold. She was right though he had way too much clothes on still. He couldn’t kick off his shoes they were glossy leather numbers and laced too tightly. So he sat on the bed and patted a spot beside him as he leaned over to untie one of his shoes. He removed them quickly, then started on the buttons of his shirt.
Emrys’ room was much like the rest of the apartment, spacious, elegant, and spotless. All gleaming polished surfaces, and no personal effects. This was a place he worked from, not lived in.
-
At this point, Sparrow shouldn’t have been surprised by the state of his bedroom. Maybe it was a good thing they were at his place instead of hers because by now she had deduced that her place would probably just make him gag. There wasn’t trash so much as just clothes everywhere in her bedroom. Sparrow never much liked laundry or the aspect of putting away clothes and her bedroom reflected that. A Cleaning service had always been an option to her as a Pilot but that also required letting strangers touch her things, an idea she was not at all fond of.
When he sat down and started untying his shiny shoes Sparrow couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head. It was becoming more evident at just how ‘clean and polished’ of a person he was. However, when he patted at the space next to him on the bed, she lifted a brow. Did he just want her to sit there while he untied his perfectly polished shoes?
Sparrow had other plans.
With Emrys distracted by his laces, Sparrow reached down and slowly slid her jeans and underwear down and stepped out of them. The dragon tattoo on her left thigh was then fully visible. On her right calf was a large and noticeable scar that stretched clear up above and behind her knee. Lastly, Sparrow pulled out her hairband allowing locks of dark auburn to glide over her shoulders.
It was only then that Sparrow took a seat next to Emrys on the bed.
-
Emrys was distracted by Watching Sparrow and it took him a few tries before the button he was working on came free. His eyes raked across her body, stopping to admire the peace of art in her thigh, and not pausing to focus on the scar. Scars on Pilots were common. Emrys has his share, some from training, others from field work. His job wasn’t all parties and glamor.
Finally the last button let go and he slid off his shit and best together before flinging them onto the floor. Before they’d hit the ground, Emrys had turned and leaned toward Sparrow. His hands explored the curves of her body as he nibbles on one of her ear lobes. One of his hands went down to his waste and he struggled a moment to be free at last from his fancy pants.
-
Just like the hallway, it didn’t take long for things to heat up again. Sparrow was already back to craving the sweet smell coming from Emrys’s skin as he nibbled on her ear. It sent wave after wave of chills as Sparrow entangled her fingers in his hair again. Her other hand followed Emrys’s downward as she attempted to aid him in the removal of his pestering fancy pants. The moment they were off she traced her fingers up from his waist to his collarbone in a slow and strategic pattern.
With each layer of clothing removed the need for closeness intensified. Sparrow pressed for a kiss again while her other hand continued to make small patterns on his chest, lightly grazing the surface of his skin.
-
Finally free of his pants, his shorts came off with ease. There were no scars on Emrys which could match the one on her calf, but he did have a few littered across his body, evidence of having been stabbed or cut, or of old surgical sights where bones had been reset and temporarily pinned so they could heal properly.
There was no thought of that now though, only that, at last, he could focus all of his attention on Sparrow. Her light touch and smoldering kiss were not enough. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her up further on the bed with hi so they were actually laying in it instead of half sitting on and leaning against it. His hands explored her body with a hunger to learn all the paces he could touch to make her gasp or moan or arch into his touch.
When he finally had to break the kiss to gasp for air, his lips didn’t return to hers after, instead he kissed and licked his way down her neck and across her collarbone, following a path down toward her breasts where he lavished them With attention, before his lips moved further still, down her body.