[closed] a noble profession

[polyphonos]

CHARACTERS: Aoba, Prince, Cathaway
WHERE: Medical Bay
WHEN: Day 0:10
SUMMARY: Cathaway and Prince do some investigation into Aoba's condition.
WARNINGS: Violence, mental trauma, other stuff probably. DmmD is a walking warning ok.

[The Station's medical bay is an almost perfectly circular room. It also appears at first glance to be totally empty. However, by the time Aoba arrives, Cathaway and Prince have opened a number of the built in compartments - unfolding an examination table, retrieving a series of tools and various monitoring machines so that it almost resembles a medical facility instead of something merely alien.

Cathaway has perched herself on a tall stool beside the examination table and is busying herself with the preparation of some minor equipment. She's-- not quiet, actually. Rather, Cathaway's humming absently under her breath as she loads a liquid filled cartridge into a small plastic device shaped vaugely like a gun with a capped needle instead of a barrel.

From the feel of her half of the room - bright sunshine, a warm breath of air, something sweet on the tongue -, she's in a good mood.]

Comments

[vocalis]

[ He's lowered, feet allowed to touch the floor. Though he does not want the Prince to let him go and end this, it is a relief, and his mind radiates nothing but twisted, awkwardly sappy attraction and admiration for the one with a hand still firmly wrapped around his neck. Sly Blue has a much higher tolerance for pain than his alternate - perhaps Cathaway will see it in the image of his mind. Still, the physical body can only handle so much, and Sly's vision speckles the same as before.

He says nothing as Cathaway waves her rods around his head. Honestly, he wishes she'd leave them. Dragged out this way, he's hanging onto consciousness by a thread, yet still his mind is wandering. Thoughts of desire involving the Prince are open and throbbing right along with the pain he's had inflicted on him, shameless in nature. ]

[polyphonos]

[It's viciously honest, isn't it? Every piece of those thoughts threading free of him, a bitter and throbbing heat pulsing under the shape of the Prince's hand. They lay heavy on the tongue, a persistent unbowed pressure--

She snaps the metal rods together with a click and takes a full step backward with a sway of fabric, a delicate chime of fine metals.]

That's enough.

[regalled]

[He is unfazed, at least on the surface, by the stranger's illicit thoughts, the shameless open pages of his mind. In this aspect, at least. Still, he would be far from the first to attempt to shake Prince with lascivious desires. There was a time when it would have affected him, when he was much younger, an inexperienced and sheltered child. But he has been the guardian of this place for some time, and it is far from the first time he has been assaulted with such thoughts, even maliciously. And so, even with the pain like an echo, seeping in like poison his expression manages only the faintest signs of distaste. He cannot muster disgust, not with his hand curled tight around Aoba's delicate neck.

He is focused instead on Cathaway. Waiting for her word. He doesn't need to hear it, but there is something steadying in the sound of her voice. He did not need permission to narrow that connection, to withdraw back into his own mind, but he took it as one, anyway, drawing his hand away at the same time. Locking shutters into place. He takes a breath.]

You may go.

[It is directed, very clearly, to this other. It is not quite a threat, but he knows what Prince is capable of.]

[vocalis]

[ Once freed, Sly Blue stumbles forward and lands on his knees before the Prince. His thoughts momentarily cease as he breathes in heaving gulps of air, coughing up spit tinged pink with blood across the pristine white floor.

He's still gasping as he leans back up to look at Cathaway, then Prince. His eyes linger, enjoying the view as he cracks half a grin. ]

As you wish...

[ Like a light switching off, the yellow in his eyes fade to their usual hazel. His body slumps forward but he catches himself, blinking and panting and looking around confused.

Aoba doesn't remember falling to the floor. ]

I... I blacked out...

[polyphonos]

[The shift in him reminds her of a series of locks - a door closes, water rises behind it a and whatever the yellow eyes creature is pushed slowly higher until it reaches some kind of spillway. Airlocks. Breach doors. All those twisting, low thoughts shuttered abruptly as something-- shifts.

Cathaway places the metal rods back on the small tray. She makes no immediate move to help Aoba from the floor and instead snaps her databank from some interior pocket of her wrap, unfolding it for review.]

Not quite, but we understand the sentiment. Would you like some water?

[To the Prince and only to him radiates a pulsing warmth, a nonverbal flash of sterile gratitude underwritten by the texture of a question - would he prefer to leave?]

[regalled]

[Yes, he would.

It's not an answer to her question, though, no returning thought pressed into her mind like a flower between pages of parchment. It is just his thought. An honest desire. He has no wish to stay here looking down at the boy and far less of one to reach down his hand and lend assistance. He does not want to face the possibility that it will be rejected, and even less doesn't he want to face the possibility it may not be.

He was fine. It was a duty easily enough performed, and I'd his jaw was tense and his nerves thin, then that was simply- it simply was.]

If you will excuse me.

[It's a unique form of cowardice, unsteady, too hasty. He will regret it later, when the rest of his regrets run dry. For now he merely bows slightly and turns away from them, towards the only visible exit.]