heavyhitter | IC CONTACT (futuro & prisma)

Yeah, at least I always got that going for me.

[ Her grin is back again as she snuggles down into the blanket. She's got Sigma and hot chocolate — moments like these, it's easy to think that things could be worse. The grin sharpens a little as she adds on: ]

And besides, the lipstick's totally unsmearable, you know that.

[ hint! ]

Is that a suggestion or a challenge?

[ Consider the hint acknowledged. He leans in to put a kiss to those unsmearable lips, delicate so close to her unset face at first, though quickly abandoning all pretense of caution. It's just! So nice to be allowed again! ]

[ But when he draws away this time, there's definitely a smudge along the side of his nose transferred from the side of her own. He can feel it like an oil slick this is awful. ]

Y'know, maybe if you finish your drink first, then your face'll be dry...

[ God it's good to be able to kiss him like she wants to again. Obviously she'd understood the crucial importance of restraint while infecting him was a concern — but she'd missed it more than she even thought was possible. Her eyes take a few seconds longer than usual to flutter back open as he pulls away... just in time for her to snort at concealer a few shades too dark on his nose. ]

Or maybe if you could hold your fucking horses.

[ That's a joke; neither of them can hold their horses, ever, and she's come to accept this. She reaches a hand to wipe away the smear for him, then lapses into a sip of hot chocolate. ]

[ Conversely, his eyes screw shut as she reaches up to rub the smudge of concealer off his nose. ]

Ramir, if I hold any more horses this week I'll be a stable at the Kentucky Derby.

[ His brow is furrowed, almost pained. She knows just as well as he does how incorrigible the pair of them are, especially when they're all cooped up away from each other for too long. He ducks in again, though just for enough of a peck to maybe catch the taste of cheap chocolate in the wake of her sip before burying his face into her shoulder instead. ]

I love you...

[ It's happened again: a weird reference she doesn't get. Kentucky is a state, right? One of the boring ones, maybe? Whatever. Way more distracting is his head on her shoulder. She turns to lean her cheek against it, her smile dimming a little. ]

I love you too. [ She lifts a hand to stroke the hair opposite of her headrest, and presses a kiss into what she can reach. ] And honestly, I got no fucking idea what I'd do right now without you.

[ And not just for the actual, quantifiable need for physical contact, either. It's entirely possible she wouldn't even have been able to handle the potential of her inexorably encroaching loss of self alone. ]

[ Well, she should know what a stable is, that's the important part of this reference anyway. Point is: too many horses. ]

[ He lets a sigh escape, lets his eyes fall shut as she strokes his hair. ]

Well it's not like that's your problem now, is it? I'm right here. [ As if that needs any reassurance, he gives her shoulder a good squeeze. ] And we're gonna figure this out... It's gonna get way shitty before it gets any better, but we're gonna get there.

[ All of them. And no matter how bad it gets (no matter how bad she gets), he's gonna be right here. ]

[ It's times like these — although, to be fair, this is a pretty extreme one of these times — that Ramir reaffirms for herself that Sigma could decide against coming home with her, but she wouldn't take it. It would just be a cue to try harder, be more convincing. This is not a guy she wants to let go of, not ever. ]

Thanks, Sigma.

[ Her low voice is a little lower, husky as it brushes close to tears. She's not going to let those happen this time, though. She doesn't want to do that to him. So she kisses his head again, drops her arm around his shoulders to squeeze him into a hug, and takes a breath to push past the thick feeling in her throat. ]

I think they're making pretty good progress, anyway. The nerds, I mean. In like two weeks I bet you anything they'll have something scienced up for us, and then my biggest problem's gonna be that I put on like 15 pounds with all the eating.

[ And likewise, it's times like these that reaffirm that he could decide against coming home with her. That is, in fact, a physical action he could take. Those are words he could say... And that's about as far as it gets. Truth be told, it had barely been an option from the start. Maybe he hadn't been anticipating seeing Phi again after all this time to sting so bad, but she's a tough girl. Akane's a terrifying genius. And in some less considerably fucked universe, he's already back there fixing it. So really, there's no contest here. But that's not the issue on the table right now. ]

[ The raw note in her voice doesn't go unnoticed, but he'll stay quiet, let her hug it out until she speaks again. Then he'll finally pick his head up off her shoulder so she can get a good grin. ]

More of you to love, [ said sing-song as he drops his arm from shoulder to waist and smush her even closer. ] But c'mon, unless they put us in an office block, it's gonna melt right off next mission. Remember Zeta-12?

[ You know... The good parts of Zeta-12... Not much to sift through... ]

Oh my god, no. I specifically try not to remember Zeta-12.

[ A nice whine as she's pulled against him, and it's just like business as usual again. Easy to forget that there isn't some virus running through her blood that not even her system can combat. She pulls a face to add a little more credence to the picture. ]

Like — god, they were so whiny. I hope Vito grew up less shitty than he started out, or he's out of the will.

[ It's a fair point, though. They do get pretty good workouts with ALASTAIR, don't they? ]

[ He winces physically. Few good parts just make the bad parts all that more memorable. Dumbass. ]

No no no, not the screamy little things... [ Don't even joke about them. He's sorry. ] I meant what a couple months of hiking did for our asses.

[ If the cup's mostly empty, he's gonna snag it from her and set it aside on the tiny nightstand before looping his second hand around her waist and rolling her onto her side for better snuggling-up-behind. They're sprawled weird and sideways across the bed, but whatever, it's even better than side-hugging. Even more normal. ]

[ Oh, yeah, she'll take that. The cup (almost finished) is a very acceptable loss if it means a comfortable sprawl with Sigma's arms around her. She wriggles to find the exact most comfortable arrangement, then, satisfied, folds her arms over his.

(And it's sort of weird how, even now, the proximity is a physical comfort. Irritations she'd kept at the back of her mind without acknowledging alleviate, clearing up a mood she hadn't even noticed was bordering on stormy.) ]

Oh, yeah, true. Your ass looked great. I mean — don't worry, it always does. But especially then. [ Which reminds her of the last part of that mission... which, honestly, went pretty far toward making the rest of it bearable, in retrospect. Which in turn reminds her of her next thought, which is another perfect distraction from the situation at hand: ] Hey, what do you wanna do when we get back to Oska?

[ Once she's settled, he'll settle the rest of the way around her, letting his grin rest against the nape of her neck and eventually work its way into a kiss. ]

Ditto, [ breathed into her hair with the warm laziness curling up beside her always instills. He doesn't have to be fighting off the zombie munchies to appreciate the comfort. The question does shoo away the danger of sleepiness though, and he hums thoughtfully for a second. Falls quiet for another. ]

I donno, this's... been a little close to home, maybe we could do something really nuts when we get back. Like learn to ride a weird horse or go fight some fake dragons or just... y'know, binge a bunch of sci-fi movies that aren't all on VHS.

[ Sci-fi sounds pretty great right about now, honestly. ]

[Well, that's fair enough, knock yourself out.

That amount of getting friendly gets a little more of a reaction, a cant of the head back down at her and a momentary pause where he weighs the pros and cons of just tugging her over into his lap and speeding this creeping over along. (Sorry, Sigma.) Hell, the clinging is doing a hell of a lot more good than the food at this point. He settles for shifting to set her haul by his feet so he can hook an arm over the chair behind her instead and commit to the general slump.

Her voice is tight with real anger—which is not common, and not lost on him. And not at all unreasonable, given the circumstances. (And now that he's thinking a little more clearly, he can't help but do the unkind math on the worst case scenario for someone like Ramir. Superpowered, bulletproof, and sick. It's not like she's got a kryptonite as far as he can tell.)

It leaves a sharp and sour taste in his mouth, a sharp spike of dread in his blood. If nothing else, it's motivating.]

You could take it up with HR, but I don't think they're gonna hear it.

[This whole mess hasn't done wonders for his opinion on ALASTAIR's approach to chucking field agents into the wild willy nilly. And it wasn't very high to begin with.]

Working theory right now seems to be that it's more of an extraterrestrial problem than a local one. Wish I could tell you I had it all worked out already, but I guess I'm a little out of practice.

[Or, y'know, a little distracted. But directing that anger toward something sure would be nice right about now.]

[ She almost could have forgotten, with everything going on, how close this is to what Sigma had seen of his own world. It gives her a guilty little twinge. She's been pretty wrapped up in her own thing, which, while probably understandable, fails to account for the really, really shitty irony Sigma will get to enjoy if his girlfriend dies of an epidemic. ]

Let's do flying horses. [ It's a little abrupt, but she's desperate to get away from the idea. ] They've gotta have them, right? What're they called — pegasomething?

[ He's been teetering on the fence since the mission had really started to fall apart. In the beginning, it had been easy to keep cycling through every zombie movie imaginable and focus on that, but the way things kept creeping in closer and more personal... It's too real. It's high time to fly a horse. ]

Pegasus! If they have those stupid unicorns, they've gotta have some pegasuses... Pegasi? ... You even know how to ride a normal horse? 'Cause I sure don't.

[ That's gonna make things interesting. His head twitches in a halfhearted sort of effort to glance over at the door, at the sound of a thud from out in the hall toward the entryway. Probably Fugo being home now. It's a little hard to get into the place these days, and the guy hasn't been terribly fond of the idea. ]

That reminds me, do they have Disney movies in the future?

[ Ramir doesn't miss that thump, and it strikes her as a little unusual. Giorno's still on that mission, she's pretty sure, and Fugo is a pretty deliberate guy. He doesn't go stumbling around. She's quiet for a few seconds, distracted, before she finally shakes her head. He probably just shut the door too loud. ]

No, but I rode some in —

[ Another thump, louder, and now she's frowning. Maybe he's having trouble with something out there. She sighs and drags herself to the edge of the bed to stand up. ]

Fugo's breaking shit out there. Let's put him in timeout in the kitchen so he can still make dinner for us.

[ God, she doesn't care what the cause is. She doesn't care what the cause is and she doesn't even care if this whole world gets infected and tears itself apart — she just wants Audentes making it out whole and in one piece. The selfish thought has a frown on her face, which eases only slightly when she drops her head to rest against Jason's chest. ]

It's called PR in ALASTAIR. [ HR, that is. As nice as bitching is, it doesn't fix much. And she definitely can't help in the speculation department, she's leaving that up to brighter minds. ] For personnel resources. Don't be so fucking speciesist, Jason.

[ See, she can still do jokes. Kind of. ]

[He throws her game attempt at humor a tepid bone that's more scoff than laugh. She'll feel it through his chest more than she can hear it.]

Duly noted.

[He's at least mostly aware that this is a venting visit and not a conspiratorial one, so he lets the change of subject stand. But he can't not think about it. As far as coping mechanisms go, Jason's always been prone to leaning on aggressive productivity. Having run into nothing but dead ends at the moment, then getting confirmation on Ramir's own status, he's wound up tight and turning things over compulsively in his head. Looking for the things he's missed that could lead them to a crack in the case. Even if the horrible hunger has dulled on the edges, it makes it a lot easier to feel the things it had been overshadowing. Exhaustion, frustration. Anger that has nothing to do with the virus and everything to do with how out of his control this is getting.]

D'you think they'll hold zombie sensitivity seminars? Cannibal cookout nights? Or hey, if we're all just gonna go native, I guess that's a few less bodies for Lloyd to worry about shipping home. Maybe they'll just cut their losses.

[ Alright, fine. Two loud thumps is enough for suspicion to kick in; if quiet Fugo isn't somehow blind drunk and bumping around like it sounds, he could probably use some help. With a low, incoherent grumble of assent, Sigma rolls to the opposite edge and hops up with a bit more energy, moving to the door with a bit more initiative. If he's the one that still feels alright, he can be the one to dish out the real what-fors. ]

Hey, Fugo, you alright out here buddy? You need a hand or—

[ Only a couple steps out into the hall make it painfully obvious that the front door is hanging wide open, and the thought of maybe he's got something heavy is quashed about a half second later by a distinctly un-Fugo-shaped figure lurching back out from the kitchen where it seems to have just ducked into. ]

[ And another half second of stand-off passes before the figure lets out a snarl and darts toward the intruder upon his intrusion. ]

Hey— Hey! [ Now that he's sick too, there's significantly less thought put into lunging forward; now Sigma's just tackling the sunken-eyed burglar and wrenching him into the best headlock he can muster. ] The fuck, dude, get out!

[ Who knows how many more of them had crept in between those thumps. Not this guy. ]

Yeah, they would. Cut their losses, I mean. [ And she can't even be mad about it. She would. ] If we fuck this up and everyone gets infected, why would they bother pulling us out when we'd be a risk back in Oska? Maybe they'd come back and see if we're still alive in a couple years, if they got a cure by then. Maybe.

[ That could be an overly pessimistic view... but she's not inclined to count on any kind of favorable outcome from anyone not directly in her group, the way she's decided Audentes is. Her hands clench once, then forcibly release and settle down again. ]

But we got some talented nerds around here that aren't gonna let it get that far.

[ Ramir doesn't take much notice of anything unusual — until Sigma's first hey. There's a tone in it that immediately alerts her, makes her forget that whatever it is out there probably isn't actually much of a threat to her.

She's pissed as soon as she skids into the hallway and sees it's not a what, it's a who. And yeah, she can tell right away that he's infected, but goddamn. In her own (rented) house? Who gave this guy the right? Her anger flares hot and fast, and the thought that she shouldn't be this pissed gets quickly muffled. ]

Just pin him, I'll get him from there.

[ She'll deal with the door — or anyone else that might have crept in — in a moment. Currently all she can focus on is this guy, and it's gonna be a struggle to just gently chuck him out. ]

[ The guy isn't much put next to Sigma, but he's definitely lost all sense of restraint to the virus. As soon as Ramir barges up, he shuffles obediently, dragging the struggling man back toward the wall and slamming him less than delicately against it. ]

Yeah, here... [ Shifting his grip, he lets the arm unhook from around the guy's throat to wedge against the back of his neck instead, letting his weight do the pinning. ] All yours.

[ Intruder secured, he chances a glance at Ramir up beside him. There's a definite glint in her eye that hadn't been there a minute ago, brow creased, lips so close to pulling into a full on snarl. All that cuddling down the drain in a snap... ]

Just... remember to go easy, alright? [ It's irritated as hell at the circumstances, sure, but it still manages to come out a touch careful and soft. He's just a sick person... He can't help it as much as she still can, right? ]

[ Ramir advances steadily, and her pace falters only slightly at Sigma's reminder. That's right. She's got to keep that in mind — this is just a guy, in his right mind he wouldn't want to be here any more than she wants him here. She pauses just long enough to nod and brush a hand against Sigma's back: a little suggestion of a hug, a brief contact. It's okay. She's got this.

She wrestles the guy's hands pretty easily together and clamps a hand around his wrists. As soon as Sigma lets up she'll shift in to take his place, her free hand grabbing the hair at the back of the guy's head to jerk him around and back toward the door. See? It's pretty peaceable. She can totally do this.

Ramir enforces their march very sternly back down the hall, toward the open front door. And when movement lurches from the dining room, it isn't until after she's passed it. The fact that this isn't their only unwelcome guest escapes her entirely. ]

[ The small reassurance is all he needs, that she's still all there enough for such gentle gestures. Her movements to grab the man are firmer, but necessarily so, and Sigma pulls back easily once she's got him secured. He doesn't pull back far, still hovering close as she makes her way back toward the door, just in case, but close enough to likewise miss that movement from the dining room until it's pounding up the hall and catapulting itself onto his back. ]

What the sh- [ Stumbling forward and roughly, helplessly shouldering Ramir and her charge, he tips and struggles on his feet, to correct his balance as much as to get this thing the fuck off. But though the sudden surprise weight is lighter and the limbs thinner on this one, the bony fingers dig like incessant, furious talons into his clothes. There's barely a second allotted for a proper startled curse, and then a blunt, crushing, white hot pain gouges into the crook of his neck. ]

[ It forces out a scream, half-winded half-choked as he staggers and squirms in an effort to remain upright, hands blindly scrabbling at the infected tearing teeth-first into his flesh. ]

[Since this has tipped back into serious discussion territory, he cuts the contrary crap and watches her fists clench and unclench. (If she decided right here that she wanted to take a bite out of him, she's be inches away from snapping his neck with one of those. Caving his chest in without breaking a sweat. He hadn't thought of her that way, much, save for once, when she'd pinged back from the future and looked at him like he was a wild dog. Even then, that was limited in scope, narrow in focus. When do you start coming up with contingencies?)

Maybe the worst part of this is the increasingly likely possibility that he's going to need to rely on the aforementioned "talented nerds" to fix it if he runs the clock out on his own sanity too soon. Audentes are her people, maybe, even if ALASTAIR isn't. She has faith in the crew at large that he doesn't.]

And if it does anyway?

[Get that far.]

IC CONTACT (futuro & prisma)

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