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the outer gate
"Open up, and let them in."
The Moira is no more.
With the damage done to the ship due to the timeslip, all that remains is a burning wreckage and parts to be taken—if the crew can find anything in the pieces. Recovery and headcounts are the main objective for the first several hours of being planetside, and once things have settled just enough, Captain Ira calls for a meeting and addresses those who are able in person to explain the situation. He draws a rough map of the area and explains where he believes they are - according to the terrain - and where they must go. For anyone who’s listening, he describes things like an “Outer Gate”, an “Inner Gate” and “gate sectors”. Believing this to be the best course of action, all crew are asked to explore and gather what they think they’ll need to make the long journey towards the central point of the Hub. Because the MIDs are no longer working due to the lack of a network, the Captains distribute a newer tech called the TAB. It serves the same functions as the MID but is lighter, slimmer, and has the ability to stick to any surface.
WELCOME TO THE MIDWAY HUB
Now that the smoke from the crash has cleared, and injured crew have been tended to, the Captains get everyone ready for departure by explaining what they know of the Hub. Almost stone-like, the creators built a domed workspace in the largest solid space on the planet they could find. Gates are the only way inside, and anyone who catches a glimpse of the compound will see that parts of the dome are cracked. Yet, everything still appears to be relatively intact. The Midway Hub’s terrain is very rocky and difficult to walk on at times. Below the surface is a honeycomb of intermittently dense and brittle stone that makes travel difficult due to the unpredictable nature of what lies beneath the crew’s feet. Those who can develop the tech from what’s left of the debris might be able to create something to determine which route is the safest. Ships and small crafts can be used to fly, but landing is a problem—rocks jut up in sharp peaks and the clearer spots can't handle their weight. Vegetation is sparse, consisting of twisted dark gray thistles that have sprung up from cracks in the rock and burn when in direct contact with skin, and what could be considered small animals here can be seen scurrying away the closer crew get to them.
☄ WEEK ONE
Crew are asked to hook cryo beds together and to use any appropriate vehicles that can be made or fashioned to fit the terrain to carry injured crew on the journey to the center of the Hub. Supplies are gathered, and the Captains, as well as any crew who want to, give the Moira a proper sendoff, heads bowed as they say goodbye to what’s been their home. Traveling starts out slowly, a line of a hundred-plus crew members making their way slowly forward. Stops are frequent, but camping for rest only occurs at night. Crew are assigned watch shifts, fires are built, injured tended to, and those who are able are asked to explore nearby caves and hunt for food.
Something akin to deer, though striped and only to be found in pairs, can be stumbled across at night. Throngs of dark purple mammels begin to follow the Moirans on their trip as well. They are friendly, curious, and eat the thistle. Meet the intelligent, watchful predators that aren’t easily scared away and follow the crew from a distance as if waiting to pounce. The thistle can be eaten, but only if cooked first, and those who sample the chewy plant raw will experience a burning sensation in their throat that doesn’t go away until the cooked version is consumed. During the first week, water can’t be found.
Anyone who does hunt, gather, or explore should make sure to that their TABS are on and it’s suggested that nobody goes alone.
Nearing the end of the first week, an Ingress can be spotted close by that crew can explore. If anyone dares to go inside, they will find the texture of the ground and surrounding walls to be rather soft. If inspected closely, crew will discover that what they originally thought to be rock is actually a living organism that’s fed off the energy of the Ingress it’s attached itself to. It’s not harmful and squishy to the touch. If pressed hard enough, it secretes a turquoise liquid with the consistency of water that might make a good substitute for that very thing. ☄ WEEK TWO
When crew finally pass through the sector gates, a strange sensation encompasses them, and a depowering of sorts goes into effect. The creators put in security measures meant to put all visitors on equal footing as well as to protect themselves from harm. All crew will essentially have the strength and abilities of the average human. An unforeseen issue, this causes Captain Thán to slip into a coma as he is no longer able to continue to recover at a steady pace, and with the loss of the former Captain’s abilities, crew can no longer be brought back if they die. For the first time, all Moirans are subject to permanent death.
During this week of travel, broken ingress machines and parts will be found scattered among the rocks, and new crew will come through. Unfortunately, these Ingresses aren’t in good shape, and anyone coming through will be in varying states of distress—some physical and some mental. New individuals will either have suffered an age slip, growing older or younger than their original body, some form of body transformation (perhaps that shiny thing they were wearing is now part of them somehow), or an extreme weakness they had never been subjected to before arriving on the Midway Hub. The new people will be offered to join their group, once found, and seasoned crew will be asked to explain to them where they are going and what they know.
The rest of the week will be a mix of greeting the new arrivals and continuing to travel to the center of the Hub. The closer they get, the less frequently they’ll see animals, and more caves will begin to pop up. ☄ WEEK THREE
Entering the third week of travel, settlements and houses begin to crop up and are prime areas for exploration and general supplies. Those who go inside may find items that have been left behind and evidence showing that those of varying species and cultures lived in the homes. Some appeared to have been scientists while others were explorers, but all living quarters are deserted. Crew who are less lucky in their search might come away with no fresh supplies, and others might walk into traps or safeguards left behind by previous tenants; these come in many forms, from mild paralysis to temporary unconsciousness. As there are more residences, there are also more caves. The entrances vary in size, and light sources will be needed to explore. Once inside, crew can find purple underwater streams, which can be consumed, and glowing surfaces. When crew drink the water, it temporarily restores powers, a few minutes tops, and then, extreme lethargy settles in for a couple of hours.
Further into the cave systems, crew will come across these lovely creatures that are attracted to sound and track through scent. They are highly dangerous and attack simply to feed. Killing them, though, is surprisingly simple as they are just as vulnerable and weak as everyone else. They are vicious in demeanor but only as strong as an average human.
The closer to the Inner Gate crew get, the less homes, wildlife, and more caves there will be. ☄ WEEK FOUR
The Captains, aware that the crew is exhausted, stop and make camp for the first few days. Someone mentions that it’s the holidays where they’re from, and the Captains do their best to throw a party. Set up at the base of a cave, tents are built and fires roar. Soft music is played in the form of guitar, thank you Ira, and Cúrre brings out some legumes that taste like cherries when roasted. There isn’t much in the way of decorations, but crew are encouraged to dig through their pac-discs and contribute to the festivities.
After a brief respite, crew learn that the entrances to Gate A and Gate B are inside one of the caves but any signs or markings have long since worn away or been destroyed. Groups are split, TABS are synced, and crew explore carefully until an entrance is found. Crew discover Gate A first, and all crew are contacted to gather there. The Captains will remain at the cave entrance until all crew are accounted for, and then, they’ll enter through the gate together.
( ooc; For questions, go here. Please comment to activity check to receive new ranks (if applicable)! )
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thisavrou_log2016-12-02 06:54 pm
no subject
The good doctor continues her ministrations on taut muscle, hands sinking down to the planes of his shoulderblades to knead in here, as well, then back up to swirl over his shoulder joints, taking her sweet time until a glance at her wrist indicates it's time for another layer. The glue is drawn back out of her pocket and the second application goes on while she supports his head with her free hand, this one spreading out from the wound to form a solid base and limit tearing or tugging before she's capping the pen off once more to tuck away. Her touch eases right back in where she'd left off, palms settling at the joints and slender fingers seeking out muscle definition, pressing into him with care. The groan she works out of him gets a curl of her lips buried in his hair, and yes, this is far better than her last chance at massaging him. He wasn't in such agonizing pain this time around and she wasn't jabbing needles into his joints, marveling at how his skin could have deteriorated in only two days, how he could have aged so drastically that the pains hit all at once and he'd been miserable.
They've grown closer since then, as well. Learned more about one another, felt out their space and how much they could give or take in multiple aspects. But more importantly, they made a great team, didn't they? They'd made it here after all, even after parting ways aboard the Moira. She covers as much ground over his shoulders as she can, giving his muscles a break from her kneading as her palms slip back up his neck and her thumbs brush along his hairline.
She nearly thinks he won't answer, and it's a stutter of surprise in her actions when he speaks up again, assuming he'd fall silent. Hasn't he already begun to open up to her? Angela's tried to prove herself worthy thus far. ]
And if I told you I'd guard it with me life, keep the cards close to my chest? —I believe is how the phrase went.
no subject
Angela doesn't fill the exact same role, and Snake's reluctant to even try and label it at this point, but she does a lot to make him feel less like another Snake and more like someone with an actual name. Not that he's told her that name, not sure how to even offer that up unless she asks. Maybe someday.
Snake remains still as the second layer is applied, figuring that it gets him that much closer to this all being over with. Angela's doing her best to make this an enjoyable experience, but Snake still isn't that comfortable in the role of patient. That being said, she's doing some good work on him, particularly at the areas around his shoulder blades where he carries so much tension. She could probably spend an entire hour working on his shoulders and back, but that's not something he would ever expect from her or anyone else. His stress relief mainly comes in the way of exercise, though Angela knows that too.
It's not like he'd meant to startle her, though Snake finds her words easy enough to respond to in turn. ] Not sure your life needs to come into it, but... in that case, I guess I'd have to say you're right. [ His voice is more subdued than usual due to the massage, and there's really no question that he's conceding on this one. You win this time, Zeigler. ]
no subject
Angela does at least know he has a name; she's known Ahab by his name for so long that seeing his handle on the MIDs had actually surprised her— but the pieces fell together easily enough when she saw Venom Snake on the list of crewmates with his picture beside it. She knew of his connection to Miller, and of Miller's connection to Snake from their conversations held months back. That meant that quite in the reverse, Solid Snake had a real name buried somewhere as well. They were just call signs, much as she's known as Mercy, though she'll admit it strange she hasn't learned his name yet— different roles and different clearances, she supposes. She won't pry tonight.
Snake proves yet again to be an excellent charge as she works on him, giving his trust to her as readily as his body as she adds that second later and goes back to work with the quirk of her lips. She's allowed to be a little pleased with herself for working him over the way she has, no? Every rise and fall of his shoulders presses into her hands and he feels a little more malleable, posture easing by sliver fractions as the occasional sound slips from him with a particularly deep press of fingertips to muscle, honing in on knots and tenser bunches of muscle fiber to soothe back down. She's just as certain she could dote on him for well over an hour and he'd still need work in a few days, likely taking the better part of two weeks to really work him loose— perhaps she'll come back to it later.
Some other night they've settled and have time to spare, when they've had more rest and the night has yet to beckon them off to their air mattresses. It wasn't as though he could hop on a treadmill or take to weights as easily out here, and there's a particular flavor of stress outside of a controlled environment like a gym. Sure, they'd get the same exercise if not moreso, but it wasn't the same. ]
I promise I'm excellent at keeping secrets, and I'm always interested in learning more about you. If ever you feel the urge to share, that is. I'd be honored if I could listen. Shall I work a little lower?
[ Since she seems to have found the sweet spot; she won't shift her attentions if he's enjoying her hands where they are at his shoulderblades. He sounds like she's done a fair job thus far, voice not quite as gruff as the exhaustion settles in, tone softening as he speaks. This second layer will dry a little quicker, and the third atop that— but she has a few minutes before the next (and final) layer. She'll make it count.
(It's not a contest, Snake!! Geez.)
( ♥ ) ]
no subject
Granted, it had helped when he'd found his own cause to fight for rather than being ordered around by people with ulterior motives to satisfy.
Of course Snake couldn't be his real name, but it is a title he could hide behind, the same way that he ducks into cover when he's sneaking into a facility. What was it he told Meryl? On the battlefield, no one has a name. It becomes unimportant when your life is something that can so easily slip between your fingers.
Snake is becoming a little more malleable as Angela continues her work, like a string pulled tight which has finally come loose, allowed to relax and practically melt into her touch. It's taking a lot of his willpower to not lean the majority of his weight against her, and at this point it's looking like he'll be passing out as soon as they're done here, to finally get some decent rest. Regular massages would probably do him a world of good, and yet a routine like that is definitely something he'd have to find a way to repay.
It's become a frequent question that flits through his mind. Angela does so much for him, but what he can ever do for her? Well, apparently the answer to that question is that he can tell her more about himself. Snake has never understood why people would be so curious about him to begin with, but in this case he has to admit it's only fair. ]
Guess it depends on what you want to know. [ Another choked-down noise escapes out of him when she adds pressure to one of his problem areas, exhaling roughly before he nods. ] I'm not gonna say no. [ To her moving down his back, that is.
Just wreck him, Angela. It's fine. ]
no subject
It may be unimportant to him what name he went by, but what about when all was said and done? What if he fell one day to enemy fire and never made it back to his friends? What would she remember him by, if not the name on his gravestone? It's only that much more important to those left behind to have every scrap they could get to walk forward with, clutched in their hands line so many threads until it's enough to make something out of; a blanket to pull tight about your shoulders when you miss their embrace, a sweater to wear out on the town and know they used to fill the seat beside you at your favorite bar, socks to accompany long walks in the middle of the night that used to echo with the steps of another. This isn't the battlefield, and he does have a name.
That he's softening further to steady hands leaves her smiling to herself, propping him up no matter how much weight he decided to lean back into her hands— it would work the heels of her hands deeper into the muscle, leave her fingertips pressing too hard until she adjusts how she supports him, but he's welcome to, and she can take it even incrementally. With his relaxation also comes his exhaustion, as palpable as moisture in a fog bank shrouding them, the low rumble of his breath the only thing indicating he even remains awake as his lashes flutter at his cheeks. It's endlessly rewarding to have a man like Snake's trust in her hands, feeling him melt into an attentive touch as he tries to fight the weight settling back against her. (Which is to say it's decided, then, that she'll be pestering him in a few days to follow up on his 'wound care' and trick him into another, then another beyond that. The human body is much like clay and shouldn't be allowed to harden or dry out, lest it become unusable. She can already feel those fine cracks in the surface and she seeks to see him malleable once more; Angie can't imagine he'll say no the moment she lays her hands on him again and begins to knead, but stranger things have happened.)
He's drifting, but her touch stills and strokes back up to tap her fingertip about the edges of the wound gently, ensuring the glue's set up and dried. When she's satisfied she'll add that final layer, nails catching a few stray strands of his hair to comb back out of the way before she's capping the glue and pocketing it for good. It's a quick enough process, really, if not for the dry time. She'll just be slipping right back down to continue her massage when she draws that choked little groan out of him, murmuring a soft apology before gentling her approach. She'll see that particular knot soothed before moving down, and hums thoughtfully when he... almost offers. ]
Hmmm, let's see then. I already know your favorite color, and that you lived in New York, and then Alaska where you mushed huskies; about your friend Otacon, with a bit more about where you came from. That you've been here for a year— [ Her listing is an idle thing, checking off the larger aspects of what they've discussed as if vetting possibilities. ] —I don't think I've heard much about the Moira's travels before I arrived, or the sort of food you like.
[ Angela works at that particular spot beside one of his shoulderblades where she'd drawn that sound from him until satisfied, moving her touch down to knead out from his spine, following the grain of muscle beneath. She can't bend too far with his head resting back on her shoulder, but she can still reach a little further down. He'll have to make the choice here in a handful of minutes whether he wants to go to sleep or lean forward to let her finish first, elbows at his knees. ]
And maybe one day I'll get your name out of you.
no subject
Still, there are people who would mourn him if he were gone, more than Snake himself realizes.
The exhaustion definitely hit him in one sudden wave, but that's always how it goes. You push and push and push and never stop, and then the moment you decide to sit down for a moment of rest, that's when your body catches up with you and you realize how bone-deep the fatigue really goes. The massage is only adding fuel to the fire—they may be stranded on a planet that was meant to be their only hope and hasn't delivered on that promise, but at least he'll sleep well this first night. (And no, it would be impossible for him to refuse more massages in the coming days. He might even try to return the favor, though he's not sure his hands are meant for it.)
The final layer of wound glue comes and Snake barely reacts to it, any reservations he may have had at the beginning of this procedure all but faded away. That should be the last of it and then he'll be released by the doctor, not that he has any intention of straying far.
It's her voice that keeps him awake as her hands journey down his back, picking apart each problem area methodically. Angela lays out all the tidbits of information he's granted to her over these months, and it's really not much, but with the way she talks about it he almost sounds like a normal person. ] Alaska, then New York, actually. [ He murmurs the brief correction.
As Angela's hands reach a point where she can barely reach given how they're positioned, Snake does in fact lean forward to give her better access. If they've come this far, there doesn't seem any reason to leave the job half-done. Once he's got his elbows settled at his thighs, Snake considers her implied questions. ] Not too picky about food. I didn't usually get much choice in what I was served when I was younger. [ Another groan falls from his mouth as Angela's hands find and then smooth out every angry spot in his back. ] The first planet we went to after I got here was called Emiri. They were obsessed with matchmaking people, but the whole thing was really just a cover for experimentation. [ He's not giving her all the finer details, but that's because he's not really awake for it, and thinking too hard on it will get him riled up all over again.
A pause, and he glances over his shoulder at Angela's face, her brow slightly creased in concentration. It's just a name, and she wants to know it. Snake had told Meryl after they'd spent less than twenty-four hours in each other's company. It's not like he'll be giving something away, to just tell her.
His voice is quiet, but clear. ] It's David. [ Just like that. ]
no subject
He relaxes further and further to her ministrations, her attempts to help him unwind as much as possible after he'd fought so hard for her and others. Ensured everyone he could reach arrived safely to the escape pods, and then to have been further searching the wreckage? He's earned it tenfold. Anything she could possibly do to help him rest, to see him unwind further and further until she's pushed him to his last waking second before carting him off to get some rest, she would press. Snake goes out of his way in her eyes on the regular and he doesn't ask for anything in return; perhaps he's making up for something, but regardless, he's trying to make a difference. That is something to be acknowledged and appreciated. (And she'd be glad to hear it. ♥ Any chance to dote will be a welcome one!)
It won't take but a couple of minutes for this last layer to dry, and she keeps him company until she can allow him to lean forward once more, the swipe of her fingers indicating when the glue has set and her nails are in his hair to retrieve her pin, ruffling it back into place. The information she has isn't a lot, no, but it's a fair start— his profession and when he came from, where he came from, what he was striving for. His friend and the way he spoke of him is good enough insight to their dynamic, as well as the sort of people Snake surrounded himself with. She knows what he does here, and that he's good with dogs, that she's seen him near every day and kept up with him. It's enough. It's plenty.
His correction gets a smile from her, offered almost under his breath and tone relaxed beyond measure, and she murmurs her apology to his hair at much the same volume, amused, before a few more moments pass and he's shifting up and away from her to brace himself forward. A silent request to continue, allowing her to continue working his back. She kneels down behind him to continue, heels of her hands smoothing out from his spine and thumbs following to hone in on those tense spots, gently easing them loose.
Honestly, she's surprised he even speaks up again. She expects him to fall asleep at any moment, but he answers her questions as they come, however ponderously with his exhaustion. ]
You've not developed a taste for anything in particular? We may have to work on that. [ A particularly tenacious application of fingertips-to-loosening knot and he groans for her, a rich little rasp of relief that leaves her pressing her forehead to his spine, indulging in the sound as she smooths over his skin, through the layers of clothing even. Next time she'll have to do this properly again, skin to skin. He's likely going to be tender from this. ] Matchmaking? And did you find true love?
[ All right, she is teasing a little, but she can't resist. When she feels him twist to look back over his shoulder, she'll straighten and lean to the side for easier access, head tipping with that idle little smile of hers. A soft "hmm?" slips out in question, and then just like that.
Angela's smile widens, warms, and she's very clearly happy. ]
David. I'm glad; David suits you.
[ She had to give it a taste, all right? Her voice is pitched his as quiet, near-reverent in how she speaks his name, letting it roll over her tongue. It's only made intimate because he's kept it hidden away, but she's glad she knows, now. ]
I assume you'd prefer I continue to call you Snake, in most situations?
[ Yet she's nearly down to the small of his back, having soothed him from spine to his sides as she worked down; he can almost slip off to sleep. Quieter still than their utterance of his name is the way she nearly breathes a soft thank you— for sharing with her. ]
no subject
While it might be true that Snake is the sort of person who goes the extra mile, from his perspective he's just doing what he can, what he has the training to do. If he's got this skill set, the least he can do is put it to some use when the shit hits the fan. And really, Angela's been working just as hard as him. She's been pushing herself too, and also deserves a massage and a chance to unwind and get some rest. Maybe Snake can make that his condition for being so compliant thus far.
There's no need for Angela to apologize for getting that one detail wrong and Snake waves her off, attention more focused on the work she's doing on his back. As her hands move lower, closer to the sensitive areas around his kidneys, his shoulders go a little tense, but it's not in a bad way. He's enjoying this, maybe more than he should. At one point in his life he might have had some comment to make here, some attempt at flirtation, but he's too tired to even think of one right now. ]
I mean, you can't really beat fresh-caught fish... [ Angela leans her head up against Snake's back for a moment. It's almost like she's enjoying this as much as he is; maybe offering other people relief really makes her that happy. ] And no, no true love. The guy I got paired with disappeared a long time ago, before you showed up. [ No need to be jealous, Angie!!
That reaction to hearing his real name hits Snake square in the chest. She wants to know him, she wants that so much, but eventually she'll peel back enough layers and get to all the ugly parts, and then what? Well, he may as well enjoy this while it lasts. That might be selfish of him, but maybe he'll end up proven wrong, and she'll accept him all the same. She hasn't faltered in that so far.
He nods at her thanks, and at the question. The code name is still preferable around people he doesn't trust, one layer of armor that he doesn't shed just for anyone. Even so, his name sounds nice coming out of Angela's mouth. Still half-turned to face her (which might make it a little harder to find those last tense spots in his back), he can't help but indulge his curiosity, canting his head in question. ] Why do you think it suits me?
[ David and Goliath jokes aside. ]
no subject
The second he'd so much as offer, she may laugh. Not maliciously so; that wasn't in her. But surprised, delighted, and who would she be to turn him down? A weak protest and she couldn't argue beyond, and the whole time she'll think about what a good man he is and wonder how he can't see it. The truth is Angela copes better; she may work hard and she wouldn't deny it, but she knows how to take care of herself, as well. How to unwind at the end of the day and set aside the ill feelings, for the most part, and move forward.
Hopefully she can impart some of that on Snake. If not physically soothing, the way she is now, then by teaching him her methods, heels of her hands kneading solid muscle as gently as possible, working deeper. Moreso once she's clearing his ribcage, the tender places close to his organs, where a well-placed blow could do real damage. He tenses reflexively but she's careful. Starting easy and working into it, especially here. So long as he's still enjoying it and she isn't infringing too far, she'll draw it out as long as she can. He mentions fresh-caught fish and she smiles with her brow to his spine, pushing lower. ]
That's right, Alaska must have had a lot. Was it salmon? [ There should be no question she's enjoying this, enjoying him. ] But that's a shame, I'm sorry to hear that. Unless I could take that as a sign that I have a chance.
[ "Before you showed up" could go either way, really. But there's a smile in her tone, at least until it's warming further to his name. If there was an expression one made that could be the equivalent of a stagger, it flashes across his face. Then he almost looks guilty. For what?
She works down, thumbs dipping into the dimples at the base of his spine, slender fingers brushing along his sides. She'll incline her head to acknowledge his preference with a little hum, understanding at least to some degree what it meant. This indulgence of his, allowing his name on her lips. He twists away from the easy reach of her hands but she was nearly finished anyway, settling into stroking lightly, the drag of her nails up along his spine, giving herself a break just as much as his tired muscles worked rough. ]
Hm? Oh, I don't know. It's nothing too flashy. Gentle and unobtrusive, like an old friend. Nothing as image-provoking as Angela. Does that sound strange?
[ To essentially say he has a plain name, but to be so endeared. Yet it's something he can shape himself, not something that shapes him. It's pleasant in all the right ways, and unique. She doesn't know a single David until now. She'll give him a little nudge to straighten back out, and then: ]
How does that feel? Anywhere else I can ply before I try to bundle you off for some sleep?
no subject
She takes care with those more sensitive areas at his back, working at the muscle without pushing too hard or making him uncomfortable enough that he gets the urge to twist away. They're almost done anyhow, and he'd like the final bit of relief of her finishing the job. He's definitely going to sleep like a baby after this. ]
Mainly salmon. Halibut too. [ More alarming than any questions about fishing is Angela's sly little comment about "having a chance" with him. It's the most direct way she's shown interest so far, which means he has no idea how to respond to it. Yes, she has a chance, much as he might hesitate to admit it.
Thankfully, the conversation keeps moving as she answers the question about his name. He lets out a low sigh when her fingers slide up his sides and spine, feeling uncharacteristically warm and content after the thorough massage.
Her assessment does make sense to him, or at least Snake seems satisfied with it. He shakes his head, mouth curving a little at her comment about her own name. Image-provoking is definitely one way to put it, but "Angela" seems to suit her too. That had been the case even before he'd seen her winged armor set.
When she nudges him, he turns back into place, allowing her access to his back for the final push. ] You've done a pretty great job already, think you got everything. This is some pretty five-star service, Dr. Zeigler. I'll have to write you a good review. [ The more joking tone seems necessary after he told her something so private, but he's definitely ready to go collapse somewhere for a few hours, unwound and at ease in such a rare way. ]
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Wh... someone to tell a doctor to slow down...?? What sort of American nonsense...All she can do on that front is her best, really. Take care of herself and understand her limits, know where to draw the line. If she goes down, she's no good to anyone. She's morbidly aware of the fact. Adrien had realized her demeanor early on as an asset and who would be there to take care of those who were so stubborn they often wouldn't accept help? That's been her lot thus far.Somehow she had been the one to worm her way into so many people's lives. Even David, here, who she's entertained thoughts deeper than friendship to pursue, had given into her early on. Who would keep an eye on him and keep him from running himself into the ground? If he were to tell her to turn in and get rest, she would listen. It's trust, to a degree, that he would only bring it up if it were truly dire and she was somehow neglecting herself— not just some offhand remark. He would mean it if he'd said it, and she would heed him. It's as simple as that.
David doesn't so much as flinch away from her touch and she could nearly revel in that bit of trust, working him carefully and feeling the muscle he's worked on all these years, maintained even in his idle time here. He's done well for himself and she's glad, immeasurably, for as hard as he seemed to be on himself in all other aspects. Even if he doesn't take care of himself as he should be. ]
Mmm, that does sound delicious. Now I want fish.
[ And it gives way to a soft laugh and a little shake of the head as she works the base of his spine, just above his hips. Where would they even find any fish here? Goodness. What an inopportune craving.
Yet they skate away from the topic and straight over the little hint she drops, seeing him pleased with her answer as a textured sigh slips out of him, her touch easing up from the dig of her fingertips and the weight behind her hands kneading muscle to pliable clay, shaping him back into something a little more human, neck to hips, as deep as she dares lest she leave him aching later. They wouldn't have long to recuperate before moving on, that much was true.
His teasing, however, has her laughing outright— a little sudden with her surprise, but still quiet as her nails give way to the gentle push of her palms, hands splaying as she traces up either side of his spine and fans out, curling slender fingers to draw her nails back down. A gentle enough touch to ease him back out of the massage, leaving him comfortable. ]
Right then, your feedback keeps me in business— but I think you should hold off until after the bed and breakfast experience. [ She'll play along, plenty willing to go along with the joke to lighten the tone once more. They have had quit the discussion, haven't they. ] You should get some rest, dear. My tent's already set up, if I can tempt you...?
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If she does ever show signs, though, he'll be there with a careful warning.
Snake has always managed to take care of himself well enough. He's never relied on someone else, a parent or a caretaker, beyond the bare minimum needed when he was growing up and going through training. To have someone like Angela, who's so actively interested in his well-being, is definitely a change for him. But not one that he can complain about, not when it feels as nice as this, her hands easing the tension out of him expertly. ]
Think you're probably out of luck there. [ Unless they manage to find some kind of wildlife on this planet, but it doesn't look too promising so far. The last time Snake had any fish was when they crash-landed the first time, which is months ago now. Granted, Angela's stew had been plenty delicious.
Her nails draw up and down his back, a final touch before she releases him from her care. Snake stretches his arms upward, groaning as the cool looseness in his muscles provides him with some much-needed relief. ] Fine, I'll give you my full review in the morning. [ He pushes himself up to his feet then, just a little wobbly after that massage, but he finds his balance soon enough.
Turning toward the tent, Snake nods. ] I'll catch a few hours. [ That will turn out to be a lie; his body definitely needs more rest than that. And he looks over his shoulder to her once more, meeting her gaze. ] Thanks, Angela.
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I'm inclined to agree, yes. I've not seen a single sign of water bodies around, let alone an ocean.
[ Angela watches (and listens to) him stretch, the easy groan slipping out of him with the renewed limberness along his back twisting something in her that... really, is far from unpleasant. She's glad to have helped, to see him relieved. Then he acquiesces to her offer and moves to stand, a little wobbly which will find her touch steadying beneath his elbow, seeing him steady before the gentlest of shoves off toward her tent and a smile. ]
I'll anxiously await it, and there's no rush. Get all the rest you need. [ Then, smile widening: ] Sleep well, David.