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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"You'll get the hang of it quickly," he said with a confidence that was mostly unfounded but he nonetheless believed wholeheartedly.

"And I'd like that," he said with an unusually sincere smile. He hadn't picked up on the 'being coy' thing (sorry!), but the request meant plenty even taken as a straightforward offer.

"Excellent!"

She stuck out her hand out to signal that she required his assistance to stand. She didn't need the help at all, but she was interested in the pressure of his grip and just how his hands felt. Despite being fast friends, they really had...well, no physical contact. Time to remedy that...just a tiny bit.

Would she laugh to know that they hadn't in part because he was just a little shy about it? After all, she felt everyone's mind as a matter of course, whether she wanted to or not. Allowing her the sanctity of her own body was compensation.

Still, she almost didn't get her wish -- but by lucky chance, or perhaps cunning pretense on his part, he had just taken off one gauntlet to clean some sauce out of a joint. A lady's request came first, though, so he tucked it into his belt and offered her a hand.

As it happened, his grip was quite firm, and tugging her up was fairly effortless. His hands were rough, but not as much as one might expect; he'd been wearing armor so long that the calluses from gripping a weapon had slowly faded.

Actually, she probably would have. 'Shy' was certainly not a word she associated with the elf standing before her. Witty, confident and loquacious would be more accurate.

Mindfuck hopped to her feet and gave him a nod of thanks, still holding onto his extended hand. At any other time the lengthy hold might have been considered awkward, but she couldn't feel that way considering she'd been the one to initiate it.

She smoothed her thumb over the back of his hand and across his knuckles. Just as she assumed, they were the hands of someone who engaged in physical work far often than not. Much different than her own, but it was a sensation she enjoyed nonetheless.

More of Maridian was a front than even he suspected. Then again, anyone who'd gone through what he had without picking up some psychological oddities was probably one of those oddities to begin with.

"You know, I'm so used to wearing gauntlets or at least gloves that I sometimes forget my hands aren't perpetually inkstained any more," he said, thoughtfully. "Also, this will sound stupid, but you have graceful fingers."

Which is more of a compliment if she considers that he's speaking from elven standards -- elves having fingers that are more slender and graceful than a comparative human.

"Stupid in what way?" She questioned, rising her visored face to look at the man before her. "In the way that a simple Human has managed to garner so many compliments?"

It was a joke and, not that she doubted his intentions with the compliments (it would have been fairly obvious if that were the case) but she'd seen the elven women in his memories. They were the epitome of beauty and grace in any culture she could have thought of, and generally in the sense of the word.

If Emp were here in her stead, she already knew the girl's self-esteem would have reached a critical mass of negativity, ready to collapse on itself. Oh, how she loved being level-headed about such things.

"Truth be told, all my technological know-how deserves the credit," she said, wriggling her fingers. "Nothing but keystrokes to fix any and all problems (except the ones that really count)."

"In that it's a weird thing to say, of course. Graceful fingers! Not my best line, however true it might be." But his self-deprecation is all good-natured, to judge by this grin.

"And let's be fair, for someone who spends all day far from people, allegedly doing nothing but working on machines, you're in pretty fine shape."

"Ah, well to be completely honest (in which I have no choice but to), I can really thank all my time on the D10 for that. The severe weight limit that they imposed on the budget-minded (cheap) escape Lotus portal on the space station meant that I couldn't gain much weight and still use it."

"So watching your meals and boring exercise? Man, you did get the short end of the stick up there."

He liked keeping his weight the old-fashioned way: near-constant life-or-death combat.

"Of course! As insipid as it is, I'm not cut out for the punch and smash method that most capes use to keep in shape (and to solve every problem, ever)."

She tapped her temple with a slender finger. "But it's fine, my mind is far more attractive than my body, anyways."

"Somehow, despite your body being pretty impressive, I noticed that," he said. And he meant it, too! She was fun and good company, which in the long run mattered a lot more than a perfect figure or a va-va-voom twist of the hips.

"Ah, you've been keeping an eye out for that, too? That's fairly flattering, Mr. Do-good."

She released his hand, just now realizing that she'd been holding onto it far longer than she'd been meaning to. It registered as just a teeny bit awkward in her mind.

He hadn't felt awkward about it. It seemed... right. Or at least nice!

"You may not have noticed, but I've been talking to you, not just staring at your body like it's a two-hander the size of Stormwind dropped by the final foe of a massive dungeon."

She laughed and shook her head slightly. "Did I imply that you were? That's not what I meant at all (really!). It would have been silly for me to do so since 'bodies' and 'the many positions thereof' seem to be the last thing on your (very active) mind."

Mindf**k ran a slender hand through her hair, an apologetic smile quickly spreading on her face. "So you'll forgive me if my ah, 'phrasing' made it seem like you belonged in Major Horndog's sex bandit crew."

"...Say that again and they might start moving up the list," he said, grinning lightly. "But no worries. I know where my gender tends to focus, and let's just say that I know most of them are more interested in the part of the steeple that holds the church bells."

He paused, then snickered. "Oh, there's a terrible joke about an 'organ' in that metaphor, isn't there?"

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Getting out of the 'house'. [Open]

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