trans_9 | Getting out of the 'house'. [Open]

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Getting out of the 'house'. [Open]

Now that the crisis concerning the clock and the children were over, she couldn't be more thankful. The gurgling roar that filled her mind had died down to a more manageable but similarly annoying simmer that continued to give her plenty of reason to be eternally displeased. Still, if she planned to be anything more than a lethargic shut-in, it would require her to brave the 'babbleroar'.

Mulling over her choices for some time, she eventually decided on Hydroponics and made her way there. With the minimal amount of time she'd actually spent on Earth after joining with the Superhomeys, most of her encounters with the natural world were only conjured up from the depths of her memories.

She began walking through the wide expanse of shrubs, trees and other vegetation, intent on both relaxing and rebuilding her mental imaging of how forests and jungles were actually supposed to appear.

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She ran hand through flaxen locks as the voice knocked her out of her own thoughts. Admittedly, she should have realized earlier when things became easier for her to sort out in her mind.

"Oh, no need for something nice (though it's appreciated). I would think purposely injuring yourself so that I could enjoy just a teeny break would be more than enough, don't you?"

"Never enough for a pretty lady," he winked as he teased her, much like she already knew he liked.

"And it's not a problem, if I could take all of the babberoar unto myself so you could at least go out and about without being in pain, I would. Everyone deserves to go where they please and enjoy it."

Ah, you selfless types," she said with a laugh. "I think you have enough problems in your own mind to deal with before trying to take on a planetary-portion of a headache inducing mess. It just means I'll have to find a way to cope beyond being (completely) enochlophobic about it all."

She paused. "Oh, what is it the (over)optimistic say? 'Grin and bear it.'"

"What? Me? Problems in my mind? Naw, I think you might be thinking of someone else!" he said with a sly grin.

"We can grin and bear it together then, I don' mind none of course." He spun a can in mid air, seemingly a soft drink. It twirled, spun and orbited around her for a bit before hovering in front of her.

"Go on, it's a nice treat. Still have a few cases worth from my trip down planet side."

She plucked the can of soda out of the air and turned it towards herself to look at the label.

"The last time I drank alien cola...well, let's not talk about that (my poor, afflicted stomach). But I do sort of miss the empty calories, overabundance of sugar and syrupy taste that comes with processed drinks." A pause. "Why the heck not? It's not like I have to actually watch my weight, now (no lotus portal with strict mass limits).

Splicer chuckled and smiled at her, "Well I haven't died yet, so I'm sure it's safe. I really missed the taste so I downed the first case in the planet itself. It was really nice, a simple comfort and all that."

Another smile, in her direction as he eyed her over his shades. "I highly doubt you would ever have a figure problem."

"Down, boy," she joked, taking a swig of the liquid. She made a face and simply shrugged her shoulder. "I'll know how good it is from the (inevitable) cavities I get. Besides, I didn't say I had a figure problem. I only needed to maintain myself under a certain weight (60 kg)."

"Ah I see," he said, gesturing her closer as he popped the cap of another he was holding. "Wana taste?" a smile on his face.

A flaxen eyebrow raised a notch. "I've never seen so many people (as in two) in one place who were so perfectly fine (as opposed to being absolutely repulsed) with me piggybacking their sensorium."

An audible laugh escaped her and she shook her head. "Go ahead, then. Throw one back and I'll (psychically) 'get a taste'."

He did so, smiling at her. "Why wouldn't I be okay with a pretty lady as yourself hijack my mind? It'd be different if say you were a Zergling or a Baneling." he joked with a light laugh.

"No, I suppose there wouldn't be a (semblance) of a problem with that," she replied. "Would it have been okay if I were a monster of a woman? (physically speaking)" she asked, amused.

"No, long as you were trying to get your mandibles on either side of my neck for a 'kiss'" he joked, having had way too many close calls with the insane variety of zerg in his universe.

"Mandibles? (ouch!) Just what type of women do you usually converse with?

"It wasn't really conversing as much as it was her pinning me to the ground and trying to lop my head off after I set a plasma charge on their nest. Bitch wasn't too pleased to be honest."

"It isn't really my cup of tea to kill stuff that can't fight back, but an order's an order and not following an order as a Spectre is signing your death sentence." he said with a shrug.

"Logically speaking, an insane enemy is an insane enemy so why not? It's seen as completely acceptable behavior in a situation where it's some sort of, ah...alien lifeform? Abhorrent when it involves creatures that look surprisingly similar to us, suprahuman or not. The (irrational) nature of war, I suppose."

"Yeah, that's true. I don't really care what they look like or who they are. Not like me to judge anyways. But when it comes to game time, work's work and I keep it separate from my life."

She crossed her arms, a smile on her lips and her head tilted to the side slightly. "So you going to down that drink so I can relive the best sugar-riffic portions of my childhood?"

"Haha! Yeah, sorry, got caught up in the chat and all that." He grinned, and motioned a toast to her with a smile before downing the awesomely tasting soft drink with great pleasure.

She smiled and immediately took the chance to tap into his sensorium, going straight for the sense of taste. "Ah...(refreshing!) Indulging in a flavor like this is actually pretty good! Ignoring the heavy molasses (all I can think is that some roach-like aliens concocted this drink)."

He laughed, almost spitting his drink with the hearty chuckle. "It wouldn't be that surprising of an image actually, considering all the insectoid races I've read about while browsing the media library on board."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, and you know you can do so whenever you wish."

"I'd swear, I have more people (willingly) letting me borrow their senses than I can remember. But thank you. Much appreciated."

A flaxen eyebrow furrowed in mock-worry. "Still, if the drink is made by insectoid races, I really don't want to know what the ingredients are (some type of bodily fluid, probably)."

"More than likely, some body parts for substance, liquids for flavor, and all that." He smiled and took another sip.

"Tho if it bothers you that I'm so willing, I can step it down yeah? Don't want you thinking I'm 'more' of a creeper." He laughed.

She handed the half-empty can back to him and made a face. "If I had an appetite it would surely be lost in all of that soft drink-making honesty (yuck!)."

Mindfuck patted the much taller man on the shoulder, a wry grin on her lips. "You're a telepath, Agent. Of course you're creepy, it's what we mind-readers are known for. (Obviously) it doesn't bother me as I'm a bit of a 'creeper' myself, I'm afraid!"

"Haha, creeper buddies yeah?" He laughed with a wink, giving her a thumbs up.

"It's cool, I got used to it by hanging out with 'normal' people and being a known psiker."

"Oh yes. Immediately walk into a room and suddenly everyone clears out, unnerved by our innate ability to find the best gossip. But...you have me (just a tad) curious. What's a 'psiker'?"

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