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when did this place become like home? [closed]
They'd gotten back. In the end, that's all it felt like. A group of thirty had gone to a planet, have things gone poorly since being greeted, then found themselves lied to, exploded, and abducted in the same twenty-four hours. Then they'd set up a confrontation that'd taken days to reach fruition, broken into teams to achieve mission objectives that were, at heart, still not entirely the mission, and ended up in a fight involving clones of themselves, clones of people on Galilee, and the clones who ran everything under the guise of not having been clones at any point at all.
Here she'd thought Orochimaru had come up with a convoluted way of attaining immortality.
Still, they were back, she didn't have any official duty to file anything, she ached and hurt like hell, and after the shower she'd just taken (she'd discovered far more bruises, nicks, cuts, and really taken a look at the big burn on her upper thigh) she was ready for some selective downtime before reporting back in for duty at Medical Bay proper. She figured she needed to look at the Active Crew registry, too, after hearing mention of a recent pod release.
It just felt like effort she wanted to postpone spending for a good half hour nap or something, to take the edge off the uncertainty of walking into open combat with this group of misfits in the future. They'd survived, but they'd been lucky. No one'd been unscathed, and they weren't even facing the Ohm. Four days on one world, and this is how they'd come out?
Walking gingerly into her room, towel wrapped around her, she contemplated reviewing the files Kanner had left on the datapad she'd found in her medical kit. Different from any of the ones they had on ship, but there none-the-less. Actually...
Sakura looked over to the medkit itself, part of what she'd dragged back without paying attention once everyone had been sorted out to where they needed to be. It reminded her to do the responsible thing and finish dressing her wounds, if part of her grumbled and knew that the only reason she wasn't doing this in Medical Bay was a stubborn wish to be disassociated from the alien (familiar, she couldn't lie anymore) environment for a little while longer. "I hate breaking new boots in."
Yes. Focus on the simple realities. "The blisters you get are so annoying." She moved toward her bed after closing the door firmly behind her.
Here she'd thought Orochimaru had come up with a convoluted way of attaining immortality.
Still, they were back, she didn't have any official duty to file anything, she ached and hurt like hell, and after the shower she'd just taken (she'd discovered far more bruises, nicks, cuts, and really taken a look at the big burn on her upper thigh) she was ready for some selective downtime before reporting back in for duty at Medical Bay proper. She figured she needed to look at the Active Crew registry, too, after hearing mention of a recent pod release.
It just felt like effort she wanted to postpone spending for a good half hour nap or something, to take the edge off the uncertainty of walking into open combat with this group of misfits in the future. They'd survived, but they'd been lucky. No one'd been unscathed, and they weren't even facing the Ohm. Four days on one world, and this is how they'd come out?
Walking gingerly into her room, towel wrapped around her, she contemplated reviewing the files Kanner had left on the datapad she'd found in her medical kit. Different from any of the ones they had on ship, but there none-the-less. Actually...
Sakura looked over to the medkit itself, part of what she'd dragged back without paying attention once everyone had been sorted out to where they needed to be. It reminded her to do the responsible thing and finish dressing her wounds, if part of her grumbled and knew that the only reason she wasn't doing this in Medical Bay was a stubborn wish to be disassociated from the alien (familiar, she couldn't lie anymore) environment for a little while longer. "I hate breaking new boots in."
Yes. Focus on the simple realities. "The blisters you get are so annoying." She moved toward her bed after closing the door firmly behind her.
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"Or are you masochistic? Is that it? Do you just want to make yourself suffer?"
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She was to an extent, if she wasn't aware of it. Yet she was finding herself in a relative catch twenty-two, if the term didn't exist on her world. (The concept certainly did.) Prove his point in not doing anything, or capitulate to the smart choice but be capitulating.
She was just so tired of capitulating. What about being stupid?
Frowning, she looked away. "I'm not."
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Now he was pointing a finger at her, an echo of her earlier gesture. "If you're really not masochistic? Prove it."
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Still, he had a point. Mostly. Okay, she'd acknowledged he had a point, and she should probably listen. How do you feel about being an idiot yourself these days?
Without a word, looking away again, she brought one hand to rest over the gauze bandages. After a few seconds, the familiar green glow of her healing chakra manifested. Point to Marco, but like hell was she going to say anything about it.
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He considered gloating, but then decided it against it. Besides, his smirk was evidence enough of his victory. And at least now he knew she was alright, if still ruminating over that mission. Marco knew what that was like. In fact...now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure he knew of something that would definitely get her mind off of things.
"So," he said casually. "Want to hear what I did while you were away?"
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No strings attached?
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She made herself smile, if it wasn't as forced as she'd expected it to be. "Trusting you to fly straight and true."
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"What makes you think I have rope, anyway?" She pushed off the bed, moving back to the dresser. The funny thing in having anything meant to hold clothes she didn't have was the tendency that something fell into of collecting everything she did have, or found during the course of her movement around the city. So much of it was still unexplored, if she thought about it.
The thought was largely unrelated, if it occurred to her that at greater height, you could get a great sense of scope.
Part of her was glad for the distraction, since one thought caused another, keeping her from dwelling on the slow digestion of the last few days, and what had happened to everyone during them. The pod pop, the Tapestry that she didn't understand, and so many other things. Stupid arguments over healing her damn leg or not.
She pulled open the lower drawer, frowning as she looked at her rather interesting stock. (Sparse, too.) "This should work," she said, pulling out some kind of rope. Different material than anything they had at her home, but lighter, too. Strong, durable, and entirely bought on XaXing.
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"Hey, as long as it's enough that you don't fall off," he said. "Usually, falling is bad. Falling is very bad. Unless you also happen to have some kind of secret ninja parachute technique."
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Opening the door, she stepped out into the hall. She wondered if anyone else was home at the moment, not remembering who was or wasn't in when she'd gotten here. That tiredness was still around, but she forced it away out of sheer willpower. Time for it to catch up later.
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"She's about fifteen feet long," Marco said as he followed her out of the house. "She's actually meant to be larger, but Stacy does something to keep her smaller. Whatever it is, it works on my morph too."
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She was back to doing mental math as she began knotting the rope, thinking up some basic supporting harness for herself. The means and ways of attaching it to Marco she was waiting on, wanting an actual visual for herself. "Nose to tailtip? Aah, I'll see in a moment." Sizes around there would be better designing something around the neck, if that was really going to rub (and run a choking hazard) depending on Celena's physiology.
Another nice, humid day in the City. Sakura glanced up at the sky and its generated cloud cover, making a mental note at the approximate time of day regardless of what it didn't mean for timekeeping.
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About a minute later, Marco had turned into a fifteen foot long dragon. Yup, he hadn't been kidding about this, Sakura.
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Blinking and taking a step back, Sakura surveyed his new morph after completion. Celena was a dragon very different than the concepts Sakura knew back home, much more similar to Analog in that she had wings obviously meant for flying. While this was more sensible than the wingless dragons of home-legend, it was still odd to come back around to.
Thankfully, Marco was smaller than Analog, and also (hilariously) less irritating. Even when he tried to be irritating, in a not-at-all helpful manner.
"Right," she said after a long moment, expression smoothing out from the contemplative wonder she'd been feeling before to one of speculation. "I can totally figure this out." Knotted portion over her shoulder for now, Sakura approached with the other end of her rope in hand, mostly to get a sense of how much she had to play with.
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It was probably a good thing he didn't know about her comparing him to Analog. He wouldn't know whether to feel complimented or insulted at the assertion that he was apparently less irritating than that overgrown cog.
<Just tie it on somewhere and get on, Barbie,> he said, amused, as he crouched down so that she'd be able to get up. <It's not like I'm going to be pulling barrel rolls.>
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"Can I get that in writing?"
She looked funny, honestly, in her rope-knot harness, leaning forward to run a hand contemplatively over Marco's (Celena's) scales. Going with the general direction was smooth. Going against was rougher, and she'd probably feel that.
Thinking back to her bracelet form plantsuit up in her room, she sighed inwardly before climbing on. "Ready when you are." She was adapting to holding onto him with her own energy, which might have been an interesting play with how energy manifested on the body of Celena's species... if Marco had been Celena. As it was, he'd likely feel her own adjustments on something more than a surface level.
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He wasn't exactly unfamiliar to what Sakura's chakra stuff felt like (he still remembered that one time when she kept poking him with it that one time when he was in mole morph after she'd destroyed the Great Wall of China), but it did feel a little different while in dragon morph. Probably because of the whole energy manipulation thing Celena had going on - maybe if he'd had more experience with the morph he'd be able to tell more about what it meant, but right now all he could tell was that it was different.
Rising up on his haunches, he extended his wings, getting ready to take off. <Good, because we're going!> he said, before launching into the air.
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Very wise.
His launch into the air provoked her into throwing her arms around his neck, yelping in surprise. Expecting him to move was a different thing from the actual feeling once he was moving. Tucking her face into shoulder, scales rubbing awkwardly as he fought to gain altitude, Sakura closed her eyes.
She was pretty sure they'd just left her stomach twenty feet below them. It'd catch up any minute now!
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With enough altitude now, he leveled out, just gliding along lazily. Now if only Sakura were to actually open her eyes, she'd be able to see the whole city below them.
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Much more awake now than she'd been earlier, Sakura let go of her death grip on Marco's neck, sitting up a little. Adapting her chakra the whole time was actually a good way of focusing, making sure she didn't injure him by using too much force to hold to him. That one thrill, paired with the adrenaline thrill that hit her system as she registered how high up they were, had her smiling.
It was a little wild, like this entire situation.
"Oh." More of a breath out than a statement, Sakura slowly moved into more of a sitting position. "Oh."
All her nice and effective thoughts about taking advantage of this opportunity for recon had temporarily flown out the window. This was... "Amazing."
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