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 … ]

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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.

One thing to say, another thing to do. Tomorrow he may deny this but when she wraps her arms around him he gently, ever so gently, moves an arm around her shoulder and clings there for just a moment, a single moment.

His grip tightens. It could be an eternity or a minute. This woman has been dragged into the tangled mess of his life - no - she tore her way in. But he's not some kind of monster. He is capable of comforting. Just ask Coralee-

The hand pulls away slowly.

"...Let go of me now please." His voice is tight, "...I think I should find some water. Or some food so I don't wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow."

Immediately, Alex lets him go, and she just steps back entirely out of his space as she looks around. "I'll go grab something from the fridge. There's water here I grabbed before. Just chill out as long as you want, okay?" Because Alex is planning on taking a while while he does it, and before she leaves her room, she grabs the bottle of advil that she'd had in her bag when she'd been taken and leaves it for him.

Something tells her that the worst traits of Richard Strand's personality are entirely on display when he's hungover, and that's before everything with Coralee and all of the stuff around him hugging her and you know that whole thing about being abducted to a space ship where he's got someone else inside his head too.

Lying back with a groan he tugs any blanket, anything warm around him. Happily lost in his head for a good few moments he blinks. Alex has always been a good person - he's not stupid - but she apparently cares. There are memories in her head of how he reacted and suddenly Coralee is in their lives? They are close enough that she'd feel comfortable hugging him? And he'd hugged her - but only because he felt bad.

After a moment he sat up - struggling with his suit coat like a cat caught in a blanket. It's all too much, all too constricting, take the jacket off, the tie off, the shirt off, it's all too much.

Alex comes back in with some bread (because of course she's not going to cook, especially when she's drunk and exhausted) and some cheese and of course a coffee because she's not planning on sleeping any time soon. Not wanting to bother Jon, or anyone else considering the hour, Alex returns to her room and sees Richard fighting like a cat to take off his clothing.

Setting down her coffee and the plate, Alex just sighs before she goes over and lightly touches his shoulder, her voice soft. "Hey. It's okay. I've got you. You're safe."

Making a strangled noise he stops wrestling, "My arms have stopped working."

He doesn't flop back, instead trying to pull himself into a sitting position, "I've ended up in space with nothing but the clothes on my back. My childhood self would be furious."

Settling for tugging off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt he just sort of curls over trying to get his head on straight.

"...You got me drunk Ms. Reagan."

“Nope, Dr. Strand, you wanted to get drunk and you got yourself drunk. You can blame me for a lot of things but you can’t blame me for that.” Not that Alex wasn’t drunk because she most certainly is. No, instead it’s that he was the one who wanted to drink more and more and definitely had.

Grabbing the bread and stuffing some cheese in it, Alex just hands it to him along with the bottle of water that she filled for him earlier. “Here. Eat this and it’ll help. At least a little bit anyway. Maybe you won’t be such a bear of being hungover tomorrow if you do.”

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