[ Warriorhead doesn't knock. He's accustomed to being expected, and by extension, to being catered to. Some part of this has adjusted in his time with the CDC, and yet-
He stands outside the bunk regardless, waiting to be ushered in, and occupies himself by replying verbally into the space. ]
[ Dagger is all too used to being in service, too, having been a worker drone back home. And the habits of one such drone still sticks, what with it being coded into his very person; serving others is easier than leading.
And then he got promoted, and it's been a weird ride ever since.
He lets Warriorhead in with little ceremony, gives him a reasonable berth to move in before shutting the rover door behind them. ]
[ It is a considerable difference- the transition between the common quarters of their rover to the narrow, quieter confines of a bunk. There is less for him to take note of here- the fluctuation of sound, light, temperature, electricity.
It is only Dagger and himself. His head cants, helmet catching the light. ]
When they're covered, and they don't burn? It's like. . .
[ Well, he doesn't have the word for it. The problem with Keluuvi language, is that it's about the omissions, not the inclusions. And there's no complete word for what he's lacking here. It's like imagining a whole picture that he hasn't seen, then trying to describe the parts that he doesn't know is missing.
So instead, Dagger unlatches his thermal jacket, and unhooks the metal contraption across his right shoulder. There are still hairline fractures over his core, but it's been healed over. With his own gloves still on, he taps Warriorhead on one knee. ]
Almost whole. I don't think we have a word for it.
[ Helictite has never expressed much interest in worlds beyond their own. At least, this had been the decision of it's governing body. If others wished to share a connection with the Rejehejet'e, then the burden of establishing contact would lie with them. As a result, diplomacy was not considered essential curriculum. What reason was there to teach their successors how to navigate the language and customs of others?
While Warriorhead had rejected these values, he had not benefited from the lessons he might have learned. His service in the CDC has been his teacher, and it has been an interesting time.
Here and now, he understands that there is a sense that Dagger is unable to convey. Warriorhead does not consider this a failure on his part so much as he finds intrigue in the novelty. The treasuring of something that has no linguistic equivalent. Warriorhead's attention falls to the cracks across Dagger's core. He considers touching it simply because he can. ]
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Really?
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Yes.
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Is it the subjugation, the contact, or something else?
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It's the thrill that comes from those two things and the fact we could mutually end each other at any given time.
It's good.
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Good to know.
FROM: warriorhead@cdc.org
What do you do after that?
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After what part? The thrill?
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Yes.
FROM: warriorhead@cdc.org
What do you do after attraction is established?
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Ideally - we merge.
But I wouldn't want to kill you.
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Don't flatter yourself.
FROM: warriorhead@cdc.org
What's merging like?
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I'm not.
Merging is - I become you, you become me, and we become something else.
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Like. Skin melting?
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Like joining on a cellular level. Every part of you becomes every part of them.
Those who survive it become twice as powerful and whole.
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Have you done it before?
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I've gotten close before, but no. I'm all me.
You?
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Others have expressed interest. But no. Not yet.
Are you near the rover?
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I am. You need a bed?
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Let me in yours.
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My bed, your bed. Come over.
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Take your helmet off.
I'll be there in a minute.
action?
Keep your hands warm.
action.
He stands outside the bunk regardless, waiting to be ushered in, and occupies himself by replying verbally into the space. ]
You're pretty worried about my hands.
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And then he got promoted, and it's been a weird ride ever since.
He lets Warriorhead in with little ceremony, gives him a reasonable berth to move in before shutting the rover door behind them. ]
I like your hands.
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It is only Dagger and himself.
His head cants, helmet catching the light. ]
Why?
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[ Well, he doesn't have the word for it. The problem with Keluuvi language, is that it's about the omissions, not the inclusions. And there's no complete word for what he's lacking here. It's like imagining a whole picture that he hasn't seen, then trying to describe the parts that he doesn't know is missing.
So instead, Dagger unlatches his thermal jacket, and unhooks the metal contraption across his right shoulder. There are still hairline fractures over his core, but it's been healed over. With his own gloves still on, he taps Warriorhead on one knee. ]
Almost whole. I don't think we have a word for it.
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While Warriorhead had rejected these values, he had not benefited from the lessons he might have learned. His service in the CDC has been his teacher, and it has been an interesting time.
Here and now, he understands that there is a sense that Dagger is unable to convey. Warriorhead does not consider this a failure on his part so much as he finds intrigue in the novelty. The treasuring of something that has no linguistic equivalent. Warriorhead's attention falls to the cracks across Dagger's core. He considers touching it simply because he can. ]
Covered by armor? [ He asks instead. ]
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