"Cursing and drinking," Libby teases, approvingly, and it's like being slippery and ridiculous in the medbay again for that second, this place where James could be just some guy from back on the islands. Pele-touched. Some people still said that about red hair, and she thinks it kind of fits, actually. The fire is good when it's back.
But then she's processing compliment and bargaining at the same time, side by side, and twisting her fingers into her own hair as she goes to the fridge to just get the whole damn carton of juice. It's one of those days. She doesn't feel like getting utterly obliterated anymore, though, just...level. Just stupid enough to function when otherwise her brain is going to keep whirring like monstrous machinery, those brilliant drives of hers always too fast. She could make this a bargain. Loki would, and that's who she wants to learn from, right? But he's asking like a favour, and--she'll just tell herself they're even and let it go.
"I won't tell anybody about her, don't worry 'bout it." Drinking like this brings out that strange accent of her she's modulated since coming aboard. Except it's not the drinking alone. It's just feeling like she can wear this skin that fits so much better than the one she's trying to weave out of silver lies. "And, um--"
She looks at them and shivers a laugh: "Yeah. Not just your sister that didn't get back to her rooms, lately. This one--this is Nikolai." The reaper. "This is Syg." Spikes.
"It's for...it's stupid." She bites her lip and looks away, filling his cup back up unprompted. She makes his drink stronger than hers, this time, and then glances back up almost shyly. As much as she knows what shy even is. "I figure--so they've got that stupid fucking list everybody is always freaking out over. But Nikolai and Syg don't...have that. So I'm--I'm gonna keep them like this. So even if, you know, we get another Strela--at least my skin remembers they were here. Which serious sounds stupider when I say it."
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But then she's processing compliment and bargaining at the same time, side by side, and twisting her fingers into her own hair as she goes to the fridge to just get the whole damn carton of juice. It's one of those days. She doesn't feel like getting utterly obliterated anymore, though, just...level. Just stupid enough to function when otherwise her brain is going to keep whirring like monstrous machinery, those brilliant drives of hers always too fast. She could make this a bargain. Loki would, and that's who she wants to learn from, right? But he's asking like a favour, and--she'll just tell herself they're even and let it go.
"I won't tell anybody about her, don't worry 'bout it." Drinking like this brings out that strange accent of her she's modulated since coming aboard. Except it's not the drinking alone. It's just feeling like she can wear this skin that fits so much better than the one she's trying to weave out of silver lies. "And, um--"
She looks at them and shivers a laugh: "Yeah. Not just your sister that didn't get back to her rooms, lately. This one--this is Nikolai." The reaper. "This is Syg." Spikes.
"It's for...it's stupid." She bites her lip and looks away, filling his cup back up unprompted. She makes his drink stronger than hers, this time, and then glances back up almost shyly. As much as she knows what shy even is. "I figure--so they've got that stupid fucking list everybody is always freaking out over. But Nikolai and Syg don't...have that. So I'm--I'm gonna keep them like this. So even if, you know, we get another Strela--at least my skin remembers they were here. Which serious sounds stupider when I say it."