eyemind | event } ya gotta be a dolphin

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event } ya gotta be a dolphin

WHO: All the little fishies!
WHAT: An underwater adventure
WHERE: Kupra City, or you can stay on Navi if ya want
WHEN: Dec. 20-Jan. 2 16
WARNINGS: Use ‘em in your threads if needed! And if you end up taking an extended dip in the big drink, please report it on the death page.

[Hello, passengers! Hope you're all ready for an announcement, 'cause Navi's voice is getting beamed into your head right about ... now.]

Attention, passengers.
We'll be landing soon on the planet Umora, at Kupra City.
We'll be docked for two weeks, local time.
Please stand by for atmospheric entry.

[Is it just your imagination, or does Navi sound more tired than normal? Either way, it's now time to BUCKLE IN, CHAPS. It's not a particularly rough landing, just your standard amount of turbulence, though it may seem a little jarring to those who aren't used to space travel.

Upon docking underwater and disembarking, passengers will find a bank counter just past the terminal, where your new windfall of Navigems can be exchanged for credits (the universal currency).

Have fun! And do try not to drown … ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In the last six months, never mind the last two years Alex Reagan has had some exceptionally surreal moments. There was Strand’s hiding in his office and Gloria Cohen and her trying to make Alex say demon names. There was everything around Maddie Franks and Simon Reese bilocating into her bedroom. There was Strand’s not sleeping and her own and the Empress and Cheryl’s tape and Bobby Maimes and Coralee being alive and both Alex herself and Strand being kidnapped and yet somehow—somehow—this left all of them squarely in the dust.

For a moment Alex can’t help but to idly wonder if this is some new form of showing up naked to class nightmare but from the way Alex not-so-subtly presses the thumb on her left hand into webbing between her thumb and forefinger on her right (an age old test for her to check and see if she’s awake or asleep in her nightmares because it wouldn’t hurt if she was asleep) and it causes her to wince there’s no way to think that she’s asleep. If she’s not asleep then this is really happening and oh my god.

Alex skips any polite shade of pink and flushes immediately into a shade of bright crimson as she mutters “oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” For someone who normally has an excellent vocabulary and is rarely at a loss for words, the fact that those three are the only ones that she can say for a moment is a truly terrible sign.

When the broken record of Alex’s thought process finally tricks its way out of the grove of that she can’t help but to ask because what is a filter between her brain and her mouth on the best of days? “Really, Richard?! You think that a thirty-one year old woman who grew up in the age of the internet and who only dates older partners doesn’t know what daddy issues are?! Of course I do!”

And then because why only want to mostly crawl under the table when you can want to crawl into a black hole and drag the universe inside after you, Alex can’t help but to ask: “wait does that mean that you like being called ‘daddy?!’”

Wait does this mean that you like being called daddy-

How to respond to this. His first impulse is to run because that is his response to discomfort and shame but he is also an adult and she is younger than he is. He can discuss this. When he was studying for his psychology degree he heard worse.

Inhaling, he moves to pour himself another drink and his hand is unsteadier than it was. The alcohol is clearly working.

"...Since you asked." He inhaled, the burbon is at that pleasant phase where it's warm and you can taste it instead of the burning that comes with alcohol, "I..."

Damn.

"How much detail do you want me to get into...?"

Alex’s response is immediate when he asks her the question. Even as her cheeks refuse to lighten up in away from the blush she’d already had on her face, Alex can’t help but to ask, “what do you want to tell me, Richard. You want to ask me something to make it easier then go ahead.”

Richard stares at her agape.

He can think of several things to ask - where she likes to be touched, what she wants him to tell her, where she likes to be kissed, what she-

Swallowing, he presses his lips together and moves to grab the bottle to drink it, pouring and sloshing some over the side beforeh e grabs it.

"I am not nearly drunk enough to violate the reporter subject privilege."

Well fuck. If Alex was wise, she would simply send him off to bed to pass out and sleep this off rather than to keep engaging in what seems to be more and more of a game of tmi chicken. But he had started this by choosing the field of battle, and he'd started it with Daddy issues and Alex had started it by bringing up their flirting in the first place.

But now, here they were and quite toasted and Alex knows that. She should probably let Richard Strand get away with that rather sensible thing, but Alex never does the sensible thing, and when she's drunk, she always does the stupidest thing. Case in point, Alex just says: "I don't think that's a thing with us anymore. I mean, not where we are anyway. We're on a space ship and have no idea where so. If you want to say something or ask whatever you should."

Edited 2021-01-10 08:10 (UTC)

"...What is your erogenous zone besides outside of your vagina-" Nope. Nope. He licks his lips, frowning, "We need more alcohol. I need a drink. I need something strong do you know what-whiskey. Can we get whiskey?"

His eyes slide to her chest and he looks away, "...Jesus. Alex Reagan I am old enough to be your father. Charlie is older than you are you..."

Fuck. He downs the burbon in his glass, "...You can't possibly want me."

Okay so they were in fact going for this. Before she manages to come up with an answer for him, Alex opens one of the drawers of her dresser and takes out a very large bottle of tequila. The seal around the cork hadn’t even been broken so Alex has no way of knowing that it’s way stronger than normal tequila when she sets it on the table and pours a heavy amount into the glasses. Giving him one, Alex takes her own and sits on the top of the table before she speaks.

“Yeah, you are old enough to be my father. And yeah I know Charlie is older than I am too. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t find you attractive you know. Cause I do and have done so even when you’d had a unabomber beard and wore unbuttoned flannel over a t-shirt. This attraction didn’t go anywhere even when you were being a giant dick. So. It’s probably sticking around.”

Taking a sip of the tequila, Alex chokes a little bit before she says; “my neck, by the way. Behind my ears.”

"A beard?" He rubbed at his chin, "And a unabomber flannel." His head swims, "Do I look good with a beard and a unabomber flannel? I had a beard years...years ago when I was in school..."

He licks his lips and belches, "Pass the tequila." He swallows, "I want to get hammered because you are ...I..." boldly he reaches forward before he drops his hands to the ground, "No. No I am a gentleman because even if you are soft and you feel good to hold no. No-"

He tries to stagger to his feet before slumping down, staring at her from the floor, "Can't hold my liquor as much as I...As much as I want to."

"You are very soft and when you hugged me I..." Damn.

“I always think you look good, but you looked vastly better with your suits. I was really glad when you shaved and started wearing them again.” Alex is drunk and there’s no denying it. Not in the slightest. But Richard is on the floor and there’s no way that she could lift him up even if she was sober so instead Alex just walks (well, half walks and half stumbles) to her bed. Grabbing the blanket and pillows, she comes back and drops one pillow and the blanket on top of him before she lays down boneless on the floor with a little giggle.

“I think you wanted to kiss me then, you know. I think you still do.”

Was there ever a moment this cute with Coralee?

Was there ever something like this? No it was passive. They sat beside each other and read occasionally with her leaning on his shoulder. Nothing like this. Nothing like something that felt like it was from the moves.

His hands hover.

"...You're interviewing me. I don't want to ruin you." He pulls off his glasses and rolls over on his back, "...It's just an infatuation. It'll pass."

She's better than this.

For a moment, there was just perfect peace between them, and it would have been so easy for Alex to just to drift off to sleep. But then again, like so many other moments before it, Richard Strand had to open his big damn mouth and put his foot inside of it. Sitting up so quickly that Alex can feel her head spin, she just stares at him entirely aghast, her mouth wide open as she just whispers "what?" like the calm before the storm.

"Seriously, Richard? Wow." Scoffing quickly, Alex just shakes her head. "'Ruin me?'" Yes, she actually makes the finger quotes. "'Just an infatuation?' You fucking condescending asshole. If there's one thing that you should know about it's that I'm the one who makes my own choices, and I know my own fucking mind. You can go fuck yourself." Alex moves to wobbly stand on her feet. "Keep my floor, I'll go find somewhere else to pass out." And then, because Alex Reagan can occasionally be just as much of an asshole as Richard Strand can, she adds: "I'm sure Jon won't mind if I crash in his cabin." On the floor, not that Alex is going to add that.

Richard stirs at that, "...Sims? The one talking about the Vast or whatever? He seems nice."

But there's an edge to his voice. It felt so nice to have her beside him.

"I thought you had better taste than someone babbling about ridiculously strange...who the hell knows." He waves a hand and slumps on her floor, "We didn't finish our game but go."

He snorts, tequila on his breath as he makes a grab for the liquor, "Chicken."

“Excuse me?” Alex is fucking infuriated by him calling her a chicken. That’s one thing that no one would have ever called her before because if there was one thing that she’s not is any kind of coward, not like the man who is on her floor with the rest of her booze.

Stomping over to try and wrench the bottle from his hand. “I’m not you, Richard. I’m not the one who runs away every time you fucking don’t get your way or your feelings get hurt or whatever. I’m not the one that who runs. That’s all you. Your drunk ass may still be laying on the floor but we both know that you’re the one running and you’re so desperate to make it my fault. Then you can just be superior with how right you are about people and never actually admit to yourself that the one common factor here is you.”

"Because people ran from me!"

He tugs it back before letting it go, shouting it out, "My wife, my daughter, and now you! Everyone I care about always leaves and I'm tired and it's just easier to go."

Real emotion cracks through his voice, "But go. Because I'm not Jon Sims who apparently is perfect!"

He curls over and moves to swig straight from the bottle, "Run. Fucking run. I don't need you I don't need anybody you're the last damn good thing I have met and I..." Ugh.

He just curls over.

"No! No. You don't get to turn this into me needing to fucking comfort you! You can't have it both ways, Richard. I'm either the 'last damn good thing you met' or I'm being 'ruined' by you and you're an 'infatuation that'll pass.' I have spent the last two years being jerked around by you, and just when I think that maybe, just maybe we'll finally be on the same and even playing field you pull this."

Alex isn't normally an angry crier, but her eyes are filled with tears at this moment, thanks to the last two years of not sleeping and of Richard Strand playing hot and cold with her in turn just like he's doing now.

But more than that, Alex is fucking furious because it's working. Because she wants to comfort him and make everything better, as much as she can. She wants to chase the hurt from his voice and assure him that she won't leave but honestly she can't do that. "Fuck." Alex just says the word softly, and shakes her head as she rapidly blinks to try and stop the tears from coming.

Oh god.

He has never been able to live with making women cry. Any woman. Coralee, Charlie, his coworkers, and now Alex.

Staring at her, he blinks, forcing the fog and the fatigue hits him as he inhales.

"...Please don't cry." He straightens, "Please. Please don't cry. I meant what I said about you being a good thing but I'm - my wife is still fresh in my mind and you said things that make me sound like some kind of monster with a ...an operative wife and you played that and I was scared."

"Please don't cry. I'm sorry I made you cry." He swoons as he moves to step toward her, "...I didn't mean to."

"I don't think you're a monster. I think you can be an asshole at times but I've never thought you were a monster." Alex just sighs and she moves to sit back down on the floor, and she reaches up to grab his hand in order to pull him down with her. "Sit down before you fall, Richard." God, that could like... mean so many different things when it comes to the two of them, couldn't it? Hell, it definitely had in the past. It feels like it still is now.

Dragging her knees up to her chin, Alex just presses it against the bone there before she lifts up the bottle of tequila and takes a long sip of it, closing her eyes and feeling quite glad for the burn. It almost feels like it could absolve them both of their sins.

"I'm sorry about Coralee. I really and truly am. I had no idea when I started looking that this is what I would find. That this is what she would show up and tell you. I know it sounds like something out of like a spy movie or something. I definitely didn't..." Want him to be hurt like that. "I never wanted that for you, Richard."

He may regret this tomorrow. He may regret his emotions but driven by all of it he turns to her and his eyes are wet.

"I wouldn't believe you but you have her voice on the recorder. That's it that's her voice. And she left me

“I know. She was trying to protect you I think. Both you and Charlie. Even I could see that she still loves you, you know.” That part hurts to admit because Alex can see how much Richard loves her too, and she always could. It wasn’t like he’d ever really tried to hide it.

She was just the idiot who ended up with feelings for him anyway.

Her fingers reach out and she wipes some of the tears from his cheek carefully and gently. “Don’t worry, I found her once, yeah? I can find her again.” Even of Strand had said that he wasn’t going to pin any hopes on it.

He moves to grab tequila, tugging on her, "I don't know if I want to find her after she hurt me but that doesn't mean it's not painful. Feels like nobody wants me except for you."

He moves an arm around her shoulders, "...It's been awhile since that's happened. Having anybody want me where is the tequila." He studies her, bleary and red eyed, "You gotta learn how to break news better."

Wait is strand’s arm around her? Is that what’s going on at the moment. It seems like it anyway. Of course she could do without feeling like he just likes her because he feels like she’s the only one who does. While it’s on the tip of Alex’s tongue to mention the fan mail he’s received at the studio she doesn’t.

One fight (or however many this was now) per night is plenty.

“Sorry. It’s not like they give primers in how to tell someone that their missing and presumed wife is actually alive and a secret agent.”

Dizziness rocks him and he clings to her shoulder like a man lost at sea.

"It just seems like a lot. I mean to put on someone's shoulders. I wouldn't do that to anyone. My life's..." another belch and he looks away, "Sorry. My life is weird. It's strange and it's hard to imagine other people dealing with it. And you want to. You haven't kicked me out I'd expect that."

Ugh.

"...I haven't drunk this much in a long time. C'mon get drunk with me."

"I mean, I've been living your life in a way for two years. It's not like I can kick myself out of it, you know? Besides, it's not your fault." Alex just picks up the bottle and takes a sip of it, already feeling more than a little bit drunk. But she doesn't want to fight with him anymore, and drinking is a fairly good way of doing it. "You tried to kick me out though, more than a few times." Alex just laughs softly, because she can't help it.

"I mean, you disappeared on me three different times now, and there's six months where you just ignored every single time I tried to get in touch with you. You were basically living in your office."

She missed him. You ignored me every time I tried to get in touch with you. It's so disconcerting. The last person who cared remotely this much was-

Coralee.

Who apparently was alive.

He wiped a hand over his face, "...You know-"

Fuck.

"...Come here. I can at least...give you a hug. Maybe. You look like you need a hug and I am really, really drunk."

For a moment, what Richard said really doesn't compute. She'd never even thought about hugging him before, not even the night Coralee had come back. She'd always thought of Strand as someone who shunned touch in every form, so hearing him say it, asking for one actually makes Alex wonder if he'd said something entirely different from what he'd really said. But he said it not once but twice, and maybe it was just a side effect of him being really really drunk.

Besides, it's not like Alex has ever refused to give someone a hug when they needed it.

More than that, she needs one too. This is a lot even if like he's got this much harder than she does. Easiness isn't something that Alex had ever expected when it came to Richard Strand, and she's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. So, while it's slow to give Richard time to pull away from her if he decided that was what he wanted, Alex does wrap her arms around him and gives him a tight hug.

event } ya gotta be a dolphin

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