[ OPEN ] Hot Springs Episode!

[shri]

CHARACTERS: EVERYONE
WHERE: The Second Flight
WHEN: DAY :022
SUMMARY: The Sauna!
WARNINGS: Nekkid times.

[ A few hours after the murder, she hasn't blown the ship up, and here they are. Another knock knock on everyone's brain: ]

( For those of you that are interested - I have secured us a place at the Sauna. Free for us to be use without interruption from outsiders.

You are to be clean before you come in. )

[ Maybe you're here because she bullied you, maybe you want to soak - maybe you're the poor bastard that is standing guard at the door. Either way, welcome to the Suana, have fun. Or don't. ]

Comments

[stilettoes]

[ elliot’s head in his lap isn’t something he anticipated whatsoever, full of a dozy warmth and trust that makes peter give a visible pause between the two of them—one that tastes like blood in the air, like electricity, like somewhere dark meant to be a place to rest, but in reality is just a place to wait and fester. the last time he had someone’s head in his lap, there was a sense of exhaustion about it. this is far less dire (in one way). he swallows and lets a hand rest on his hair softly, thumbing the base of where his hair fades to a cut that looks as thought it will need some maintaining at some point. it’s another idle thought that’s runs as though the first hadn’t tainted it with its taste.

his fingers curl through dark, thick hair absent-mindedly. ]

He said he had only your best interests in mind.

[ which makes the animal thing in peter curl it’s lips back just a bit. there’s something in the symbiote that doesn’t like the claims fed to it. it wraps around the connection with a soft heartbeat of a touch, squeezes a little the way you might grip a hand gently in the dark. ]

Is that true? Does he keep you safe at least? Whoever he is?

[ a thought betrays a fraction of gentle hadrian, a brief cut of steel, something in him tightening: i could keep you safe.

he pushes away the loaded spring trap, voice tender, but edging on clipped at the end. a declaration. ]

I don’t like him.

[raw]

Elliot gives a soft little rasp of a laugh, his eyes closing against the affectionate and soothing scritch of fingers across his scalp. Despite Mr Robot, this suddenly feels like it was a good idea, the kind of sweet contentment he has so rarely experienced in his life.

"You don't like him." The irony there is obvious. Elliot doesn't really like him either, but what does Elliot like about himself. But he does have to concede that Mr Robot can be particularly unlikeable. Mostly because he doesn't seem to give a shit about anything.

Krista had postulated that a split personality originated from some kind of self-defense mechanism, though Elliot straight up never told her enough about himself for her to postulate what he might need protection from, beyond his own anxiety. But Mr Robot doesn't keep him safe. Mr Robot drags them both into trouble, time and time again.

"Listen," he manages. "Don't worry about it, okay? He's basically powerless, except for talking shit." Slightly less powerless if other people can see him, but maybe it's just Hadrian.