(no subject)

[worm-dancer.livejournal.com]

Being from (Ar)Rakis, Sheeana's first thoughts on the dark dreams that had been afflicting her fellow crewmates had more to do with hurricanes and sandstorms than clouds. The metaphor was the same though.

That was her thought as she sat in the lotus position in front of Arha's door (she would not leave her if she had another such dream, but would not tempt herself into sleep by joining her either). Sandstorms. She missed them so, the beating, suffocating, gritty howl of them. Real weather, to rasp at the skin, to shape both person and landscape. Sand or rock crunching underfoot, screaming winds, danger that could be understood and grasped by human hands. I am a desert creature. I need the environment I was born for.

She longed for them as for the touch of a lover.

Comments

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

Motoko's fingers closed around Sheeana's wrist in reply. It was an easy grab with her arm hovering over the Major's palm like that. The cyborg's skin was warm, textured just right, but her grip, though gentle, was pure steel.

Like a threat.

This feeling, this moment was familiar. Intimate, private, but still...anyone could walk along and see them. The woman in the bedroom could wake. Close tension of the moment, the distance between them and casual, necessary touch. Aside from that which was required for combat, Motoko had not touched another human being for more than four months. It was tantalizing, the tripwire gaze and the will-they won't-they. She felt her cyberbrain slip over, dipping into her adrenaline and curbed it gently, with no little amusement. It had been a long time.

[worm-dancer.livejournal.com]

Sheeana was shameless, an attention seeker in fact. This was her way of protesting her confinement. She'd done it on Chapterhouse before. Tales of her behavior with men spiced the food, acolytes giggling over their stews.

Even as she felt those fingers close over her wrist she regarded Motoko with a smile upon which mischevious, dirty suggestions seemed to play unspoken.

[standaloneshell.livejournal.com]

It was enough, she could feel Sheeana's pulse, the smile, the microexpressions flashing honestly across the girl's face. Arousal, fresh and strong. The Major used the leverage of her grip to pull Sheeana towards her, leaning at the same moment into the girl to mask the shifting weight as she drew her legs up under her.

Warm breath, so close and yet...

Motoko pulled away, coyly, just before the touch and moved off down the hall. Never let it be said she gave anything easily, and wasn't leaving the girl wanting at least half the fun?