[StarRail PSL]

[themightybosstone]

[The world was one of a constant, strange, cyclical war.

When the night fell on the highest moon of the furthest month, a Howling Storm took the planet, cut its cities off from each other and the visitors from their homes, When the Storm's first whining, hot wind struck, the imposing gates of the iridescent metal of this world would close, folding up and over, in a wall only Qlipoth could love.

The thud of bodies, the scrape of claws, mandibles and fangs added to the cacophony that the setting of the red sun provoked. It ebbed in the morning, but never enough to be safe. Never enough for the walls to come down.

In defiance, however, in these little hubs of survival, the nightlife was something quite impressive. Loud music played, lights blared, the night market was a roar of throats - the call of sellers and the flirtation of buyers.

All to carry on like a shield wasn't holding back the certain death of nearly everyone in the spaceport.

But you're here, waiting for the tired relief of morning. For the spaceport to open back up in a week.

It should have already ended. It SHOULD have been open yesterday.

But the Storm is longer than it's ever been here...]

Comments

[themightybosstone]

I aint borisin.

[He grumbles, but grabs the antiseptic.]

[vitainmorte]

You're not all Foxian, either. Stop complaining.

[ Just takes it from him to do it herself; quick and efficient. And with no coddling. ]

[themightybosstone]

That doesn't- OW! [ This doesn't mean he doesn't whine about it. He isn't STOPPING her, but he is ears pinned back and making SOUNDS about it. ]

[vitainmorte]

[ She gets it wrapped by up quickly, and steps back, frowning at him. ]

[themightybosstone]

Better?

[ He's absolutely pretending that was no big deal now.

His tail is completely fluffed out though as he reaches around her to refill his glass. ]

[vitainmorte]

It can't have hurt more than being stabbed.

[themightybosstone]

It's REALLY easy to miss getting stabbed!

[vitainmorte]

Well, dying of infection isn't any more pleasant. Stop relying on your natural healing so much.

[themightybosstone]

[He gives a big hwuff of a sigh, tail drooping.] This usually aint a problem...

[vitainmorte]

Well now it is. Don't count on it not being one in the future too.

[ ... Huffs herself, but starts cleaning up the supplies to put away. ]

[themightybosstone]

...

[He looks down at the - actually pretty decent patch job then back up at her.]

Aint it... yer job t'be killin' folks like me?

[vitainmorte]

We've already made a deal and I owe you for saving my life during the attack.

[ She looks away a bit, unwilling to meet his eyes. ]

... If I need to kill you later, then-- it is what it is.

[themightybosstone]

[His fingers rasp where they scratch his chin as he considers it and... stops considering it.]

Well, that's a later problem, if we're all good til then.

[He reaches out a hand to offer to shake on it.] I'll take you right to my Pa's doorstep if you wanna go with me. Only thing is? I get last hit.

[vitainmorte]

[ She stares at his hand for a moment before carefully placing hers in it. His hand is so big... and this idiot thought he could have sex with her??? how would that WORK ]

... It's not something I can guarantee, but I can try.

[themightybosstone]

[ CLEARLY MYSTERIES OF THE UNIVERSE. Also an absolute willingness to go down- ]

Good enough for me.

[vitainmorte]

[ She stares at his face for a moment-- flusters, and draws her hand back. not without extending a little telepathy though just to see where his thoughts are, but she goes back to her seat and contemplates pouring herself another glass. ]

Good.

[themightybosstone]

[ It's a soft bittersweet without anything as formed as thoughts. A little contentment, a little hope, a little ache in the chest, a little appreciation of how she looks with a blush, and a little bit of focus on the memory of a hand touching his - simple and harmless contact. ]

Mind a top up here?

[vitainmorte]

[ ... Oh, that's nice? And unexpected. She's frozen in that feeling for a moment, trying to parse that strange longing-- has she ever longed for touch, before?-- before she makes a noise of acknowledgement and brings the bottle over to pour him another full glass. ]

[themightybosstone]

[ There's a little carbonated fizz of curiosity at her long pause, but just assumes she's deciding whether to give him more alcohol or not.

And you know? Fair enough.

He takes a much more reserved sip. But damn this is good shit. ]

Thankya kindly. Here's to a good partnership and the fall of the borisin Pack.

[vitainmorte]

... And you as well.

[ She supposed she hadn't been expecting him to actually feel that way so-- the alignment of that particular goal warms her a bit, and she raises her glass before sitting herself back into the pilot seat.

She's quiet from there, unless he speaks to her, just nursing the rest of her brandy and staring out through the glass, listening to the dull and distant skittering of the Swarm beyond the shields. ]

[themightybosstone]

[ For a while, that's just it. A comfortable silence between them, broken by a sip or a swirl of the glass.

It's as the last of the amber liquid is pulled, he gets up and stretches. He scoops up the discarded shirt and jacket (both sleeveless), and takes the glass to the kitchen without a word. ]

Night Val. [ He says with a bone cracking yawn, and heads back to the little palace of TWO BEDS!!! he'd made. ]

Lets hope they open up that wall tomorrow. Maybe even a little earlier. I'm feeling a fight.

[vitainmorte]

[ She's basically drunk herself to sleep at this point, having finished her last glass some time before Sett pulls the last drink of it himself; she hasn't moved much at all since she sat down, slowly slouched down into her shoulders.

She does straighten some, when he speaks, and turns to watch him as he picks up to go with bleary eyes, but still she remains. ]

... Good night, Sett.

[ But she stays, and just huddles up in her coat and into her seat to just sleep where she is. ]

[themightybosstone]

[ Have you considered attempting to murder him again?

You might this morning.

He's a morning person.

And not hung over in the slightest.

And has the stealth of a rhino in a tambourine dress. ]

HEY VAL, CAN I USE THE EGG POWDER?

[ Is hollered from the kitchen. ]

[vitainmorte]

[ she jolts awake at the first hint of noise, groaning. But. Slowly (and very sorely) unfolds herself from the chair. ]

... Go ahead.

[themightybosstone]

SWEET! THANKS!

[ He sings as he cooks.

Frankly, it's not bad. The clattering around is worse. ]