026 [audio]

[farfairersoul]

Has anyone else happened to notice anything...odd?

[Footsteps; Razer is walking. They stop abruptly after a moment.]

That isn't right at all.

Perhaps--ah...

[Long silence.]

Precursors, how in hell is it even possible to get lost on this level? It's--

It's supposed to be--

[Another pause. There's the sound of a gloved hand slapping the

Comments

[Locked to Razer // Unhackable]

[psychoticracer]

What did you do?

[Unlocked]

[farfairersoul]

Nothing you haven't done before, C--

[Strangled cutoff noise agh that sounds waaaaay too affectionate to be saying over a public channel. There's a loooong silence, just breathing and muttering.]

I seem to be lost.

[Locked to Erol // 90% Unhackable]

[farfairersoul]

Also, I seem to be having some trouble locking things. Apologies.

[Yay for mental disorientation to go with all the rest.]

[Locked to Razer // Unhackable]

[psychoticracer]

.... I see.

Stay put. I'll conduct a sweep.

[After all the time, he knows precisely the most efficient way to do it.]

[Locked to Erol // 90% Unhackable]

[farfairersoul]

Understood.

[And...because the walls seem to be breathing, Razer decides it's probably best to just have a seat in the corner of the hall, close his eyes, and pretend he doesn't hear anything strange. Focus on his breathing]

Not going anywhere.

Never going anywhere.

[...That was weird.]

[Would u liek 2 play a log?]

[psychoticracer]

[Were it nearly anyone else, Erol would thoroughly enjoy the advantage of his own unimpaired senses - he is, after all, a natural opportunist. But Precursors have mercy upon anyone who thinks his counterpart is fair game, because the Commander won't.

He's been busy over the past month, and he balances the fruit of his most labor-intensive efforts over his shoulder - a bar salvaged from the weight-lifting equipment of the gym, blades welded to the end to form a mean-spirited polearm. No, he didn't actually find welding equipment, but it's rather impressive the things you can do with the everyday household items given enough creativity and research.

And there's Razer. Erol glances around to make certain they're unobserved... at least by anything he can detect. If Major Kusanagi's doing her naked-invisibility trick he wouldn't be able to tell, but Erol doubts she cares enough at the moment to go to the effort.]

I take it this is related to that little excursion?

[He offers Razer a hand up, a gesture that would be

[like you have to ASK]

[farfairersoul]

[Razer flinches at first, because Erol's voice does NOT sound right, all static and white noise, but opening his eyes proves that the Commander looks like he should. At least for now. The sigh of relief he gives at that is far too obvious, and his expression turns a little perturbed at that.

Still, he takes Erol's hand--although he doesn't need it--and hefts himself up.]

I don't recall anyone mentioning maddening punishment when you went to the lower decks.

[One ear twitches slightly and he turns, eyes wide like there's something at his back, but only sees an empty stretch of hallway. The shadows might be a little darker than they should, and seem to shiver a little, but nothing dangerous.]

I feel like I'm going mad.

[X3]

[psychoticracer]

No, he took the elevators offline and gave the food an unpleasant smell. It seems he's rather more irritated this time around.

Back to your room, or were you headed elsewhere?

[Erol's easily deduced both from Razer's original post and from other chatter that his counterpart's sense of direction has been tampered with. Damn, he wants a piece of Redd's hide... just as well, though, that one of them stayed out of this operation. He's had his body messed with quite enough, having the Captain delve into his mind would be thoroughly unnerving.]

[♥]

[farfairersoul]

[He opens his mouth to reply, ignoring the underlying static in Erol's voice as he turns back toward him, then pauses. Blinks.]

I don't remember.

[Where WAS he headed before he got lost? Up a deck or down or--hell with it. He hasn't let go of Erol's hand, and he doesn't intend to; he's quite certain he would manage to forget where he's going or how to get there without Erol literally leading him through it, humiliating as it is to admit.]

My room would probably be best. Not very easy to get lost in there. I hope.

[He heaves a sigh.]

I've been arguing Ashelin's ear off and I insulted Blitz, by the way. Three or four times. He's probably going to kill me and she is definitely going to try.

[psychoticracer]

[Fortunately Erol wouldn't dream of making a point out of Razer needing to be led. He knows damn well that if Razer's not letting go of his hand it's for an extremely good reason, one he won't question.]

I wouldn't be worried about her - she has Krimzon training, but she's young and Mar knows if she's bothered to practice while she's been spreading her legs for everything between Underground scum to Brink rejects.

[And she is, after all, just a woman. She's good but Erol doesn't believe for a second that she's THAT good.]

But if he lays a hand on you...

[Does that sentence really need to be finished? Erol's perspective shifts suddenly, drastically - Blitz needs them. THEY don't need HIM. Erol would just as rather stay within a familiar chain of command but... if it comes to a choice between Razer and Blitz, there is no choice. G.T. had better treat his lieutenants wisely because they most certainly outnumber him, and they're all he's got.]

[farfairersoul]

I know you'd defend me or avenge me or whatever, it isn't as though our feelings for each other aren't obvious, but he has every right to retaliate after what I--

[He tightens his grip on Erol's hand a little automatically, taking a half-step to one side when the wall closest to him starts to balloon inward with a sharp, almost hydraulic sound, plaster straining and flaking and CRACKING and then the air reeks of electricity and rot and--

And then he blinks and it's back to normal. He's still staring, though, eyes a little wide and breathing a little labored.]

Dear Mar.

[He swallows, closes his eyes and lets go of Erol's hand enough to rake both of his own back through his hair. Breathe, man, breathe.]

[psychoticracer]

[Erol, of course, sees none of this, but he's familiar enough with Redd's twisted sense of humor to figure that whatever Razer's experiencing is unpleasant to say the least. As for Mizo's "right to retaliate..."

He steps close, close enough to feel the other's body heat, and reaches up to tug his jaw downwards and murmur low against Razer's skin. Each word comes carefully and deliberately enunciated through his odd upper-class accent.]

I don't care.

["Right" be damned. If Mizo touches Razer there will be hell to pay. It's practically a law of nature, and Erol's golden eyes burn with fervent certainty. This is just how things are.]

[farfairersoul]

[And in an instant Razer relaxes. There are still noises, still static and wheezing and the sharp tang of blood in the air, someone else's heartbeat pounding in his ears--but he relaxes nonetheless.]

One in the long list of reasons that I love you.

[It comes out so easily he doesn't think much of it.]

[psychoticracer]

[For half a second - a long time by Erol's high-caffeine standards - his brain stalls out, frozen like a lightning mole under zoomer highbeams.

It's not the word. Not really. Christine used it, that didn't faze Erol (irritated him, perhaps). It was just a word, one he didn't even believe in - and if it existed, it wasn't for people like him.

No, what threw him for a loop was the fact that it felt as natural and right as the fact that Erol would have blood for blood on anything or anyone that hurt Razer. The Commander wasn't a self-analytical person; he felt something and ran with it. He didn't second-guess; he went on instinct, throwing himself into full-bodied action at the drop of a hat, a tendency that made both his strength and his weakness.

He just wasn't equipped to slot this into his arsenal. Or rather, it was already there, and he didn't know when it had happened or what he was supposed to do with it.

The same way you adapt to any change in battlefield conditions, of course. Shift your grip and keep going.]

Hm.

[

[farfairersoul]

[Razer goes along, realizing only after a step or two just what exactly it is he said.]

...Mar, that sounded unnatural.

Not the meaning, of course, that much has been obvious for quite a while, but that isn't the kind of word I use. It sounds unnatural. Made for a different kind of person than you or I, different reasoning, different actions to show it--

[Frustrated growl.]

And I can't stop talking. It just keeps happening without me even thinking about it. Not that I don't like the sound of my own voice but Makers this is infuriating.

[psychoticracer]

["I didn't think it was unnatural."

That's what Erol would have said if his own "internal filter" was dismantled. But it wasn't, thank goodness. Instead he just glances back, a smirk caught somewhere between flirtatious and conspiratorial flitting across his features.]

Here I thought you were verbose under normal circumstances. Does this call for something more engaging to occupy that mouth?