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[not_your_weapon]

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Skills Carkeys - Jan 2018

[not_your_weapon]

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[stormandwind]

Tris is never less than organized, but before Laura comes, she makes sure to have the smithy well-lit, all the colors of glass laid out across a workbench to choose from. She has a pile of papers, blank and with existing designs, depending on whether her student would rather invent something or skip that part of the process. And back in the dining room, a plate of cookies on the table, because that's become habit.

She'll open the door quickly when Laura knocks, setting aside the book she was reading. A glass dragon lands on Tris's shoulder and peers eagerly at the newcomer. "Hello, Laura. Come in."

Gym Spam!

[justice_is]

The gym is empty, this time of night - which is why it's perfect for the two of them to spar. Matt honestly looks forward to these nights, when he and Laura let the pretenses fall and maybe they're both still holding back, but it's far, far better than letting loose on a punching bag. It's far, far better - for him - than punching a construct in the Enclosure. Those might hit back, but it's still not the same as tracking a flesh-and-blood person across the mat from him, listening for those tics in breathing and heart rate, the creak of the vinyl as weight shifts and a body lunges.

Tonight was... intense. He can't pretend there hasn't been a whole lot of frustration under his skin, and maybe Laura feels the same way, because somehow, there'd been some unspoken shift, and somehow, the blows had gotten harder, faster, heavier. And now the both of them are panting at opposite ends of the sparring area, with the sharp copper tang of blood in the air, several shallow cuts stinging his skin and maybe a couple of bruised ribs twinging every time he gulps in a breath of air, lets it out in a sound that's part a laugh, part a sigh. "I think we maybe need a break," he says, rubbing at a bloody nose with the back of his wrist. "Just a minute or two."

Or maybe a few more. She sounds like she could do with the same, on the other end of the room.

Re: Gym Spam!

[not_your_weapon]

Laura has a habit of holding back when she's training.

It's not exclusive to Matt; if anything, she pulls far fewer punches with him than she might with most of the other barge residents, and it's less because he can take it and more because he's got a higher chance of knowing what's coming.

Tonight, though. Tonight it had been far easier to think less and just act, easier to follow her intuition instead of reason, to listen and move according to what she felt instead of what she knew. She'd followed Matt's lead, in a way, because he doesn't follow the same logic as other fighters, and it had been ... freeing. It's only when he speaks that she blinks out of her daze, panting, and sees the damage she's inflicted like she's looking at it for the very first time. Like she hadn't noticed while they were sparring.

She hadn't noticed.

Laura takes stock of herself; it's hard to determine all of the injuries she might have sustained in the fight, but she's certain that Matt actually gave as good as he got. She can feel a shoulder still working itself back into place, broken bones knitting themselves together under already-fading bruises. There's still blood on her skin, on the surface above wounds that have since healed, and sweat soaked into clothes that are worn in places where blows must have landed hard.

"We can stop," she offers. "That was ..." But she can't find the right word, and trails off into a sigh. "I'll get us some water. Don't move."

She moves slowly, not wanting to disturb the way her body's healing itself, but it's not long before she returns with two water bottles, one of which she hands to him, and the first aid kit. "Are you..." she starts. It's a dumb question. He's not alright, but he will be. "How are you?" she tries, instead, hoping for more information out of an open ended question.

Re: Gym Spam!

[justice_is]

"Not complaining," is his initial, genial answer, when she comes back with the water and the first aid kit - both of which he does accept with a quiet, "Thanks."

And then, "Sit down, before something heals wrong." He can hear things knitting together, and it's a fascinating sound, but it's happening fast enough that he doesn't want to risk her making it worse by standing when she should be sitting.

His first answer, though, was honestly a pretty good way to put things - not complaining, at least, but that just means he's more frustrated than if he could complain, and have something come of it. He takes a swig of the water, and then a deep breath - as deep as he can, anyway, with ribs that creak in a way that he's realizing might mean they're cracked, not just bruised - and takes a moment to figure out what he wants to say next by opening the kit and pulling out some gauze, so he can clean up the cuts of his own that are still bleeding, though not before handing some over to Laura. There's still blood on her, even if everything has either closed up or is in the process of doing so.

"Honestly, that felt good," he finally says, smiling a little, mouth still a bit bloody, but it's mostly from his nose, and nothing more serious.

[stormandwind]

Laura, how are you holding up? Is there anything I can do for you?

[Because Tris knows how she felt after she murdered Alan. She knows how she felt all those months as a liability because of her deal with Bill. Laura feels responsibility very strongly, and losing control must be incredibly hard on her.]

[not_your_weapon]

I'm fine.

[No, she's not. She considers leaving it at that, but ... ]

Would you be able to pack up several meals from the dining hall for me? You can leave them outside my door.

[stormandwind]

I'll tell you what. Let me know a couple of things you really like, and I'll make you several meals and deliver them to the inside of your cabin.

I can bring Zeph with me. He doubles as a containment bubble, and if you lose control he can wrap himself around one or the other of us.

text; backdated to after her attack on Matt

[tucky]

hey

are you ok

Re: text; backdated to after her attack on Matt

[not_your_weapon]

I will be.

text; backdated to after her attack on Matt

[tucky]

ok

do you need anything

text; two days after her murder

[ukan]

I hear you're on your feet.

Re: text; two days after her murder

[not_your_weapon]

I am.

Do you plan to do it again?

text; two days after her murder

[ukan]

I don't want to but I don't know yet.

Are you planning any sort of punishment?

[mothmansplaining]

The uncomfortable knot in Ford's stomach that's been there since Laura asked him to help search the ship has only been growing, and it has nothing to do with the headache-inducing bizarre architecture the ship has taken on. Sure, it'd be enough to give anyone vertigo, but Ford's long past telling himself that's what it is.

He hands the PANDA scanner over to Laura.

"See for yourself," says Ford. The display shows an outline of the Barge, with small beams of light shooting out of dozens of tiny pinpricks in every direction. "It's hard to model what's really happening on a two-dimensional screen, but something from inside the Barge is poking holes through the hull into other dimensions."

[not_your_weapon]

Laura looks down at the scanner, brows drawn slightly together. "I think this would be hard to model even with a three-dimensional scan," she muses, "but it does explain the changes to the architecture. If there's a spot where the barriers between realities are already thin ... No, that's not right. It's punctured, not worn down." She frowns a little deeper as she looks closer, then back up to Ford. "You're saying this is deliberate. Or at least that it seems that way."

There's an unspoken right? tacked on, in the way her eyebrow raises, if not the tone of her voice.

[mothmansplaining]

"Unless there's a naturally occurring phenomenon you know of that punctures holes at a steady rate into a different universe every time," Ford says, without much hope that there is.

wibbly time??? a few weeks after BillCalypse? or maybe it is after port

[takestime]

[Eventually, finally, following through on his promise to Porthos, Kahl knocks on Laura's door.]

Re: wibbly time??? a few weeks after BillCalypse? or maybe it is after port

[not_your_weapon]

[Laura isn't expecting anyone, so she's on her guard even before she can make out who's on the other side. She opens the door and stands squarely in the doorway, with no intention of letting him in.] Can I help you?

[video]

[neverjoinyou]

Laura. You got a minute? It's... about Ford.

Re: [video]

[not_your_weapon]

I do. Is he okay?

post Hats-flood, action

[mothmansplaining]

[Once everything is back to normal, Ford's waiting in the dining hall at their usual table, a plate of eggs and toast and greenhouse-vegetables sitting untouched in front of him. He's sipping a cup of coffee quietly, apparently lost in thought.]

Re: post Hats-flood, action

[not_your_weapon]

[Laura takes a seat with him, and she's just as quiet for a moment, not necessarily waiting for Ford to say something so much as trying to piece together what she wants to say. Finally, after a few thoughtful bites:] I'm sorry.

[video]

[mothmansplaining]

[Ford's been trying to think of people on his access filter who might have left the cookies. Neither one of them is very likely, but he talks to the slightly less unlikely one first.]

You didn't leave these here, did you?

[The feed is pointed at a plate of cookies on the desk in Ford's cabin.]

I'm trying to figure out where they came from. Never trust food that just appears, especially when it's convenient! I'm not hungry enough to take the risk.

Re: [video]

[not_your_weapon]

I did not.

[A pause.]

Have you asked Tris? [She's always baking something for someone. Right?]