When she had met Erik, it had been in a time of need, Trace reflected. She had met him when she was fresh out of Capsule, having escaped in a fit of frenzy and blood that she barely remembered. She only remembered all of the blood on her afterwards. It wasn't one week after her escape when she met Erik. He'd been a charming young boy, freckles and sideswept brown hair, muscular but lean, and she had been so vulnerable, so desperate for some sense of sanity and normalcy after her year spent in Capsule that she had fallen into his open arms, and hard.
It wasn't fair to Erik. For her to be off... doing things with other people while she was here. It just wasn't fair to him. Part of her, though, reasoned that no matter where she was, he'd want her to be happy. He'd always tried to make her happy. She had once had a heart attack, after they'd been married for a few months, and he stayed with her in the hospital for weeks, working from his laptop and going home only to shower and grab food. Some part of her told her that if Howl would make her happy, Erik would be okay with it, at least until they got off the island and she came home to him.
And, for some inexplicable reason that she didn't understand, she enjoyed Howl's presence. He was a little off, a little weird, a little bit of a loner, but he was friendly, and understanding. He didn't judge, and he didn't take offense when she'd get angry. She liked that. She didn't necessarily like getting angry or offended... In fact, the primary basic of her childhood religion was against violence.
She listened to Howl's story with open ears, and her heart ached in her chest. She couldn't tell whether it was from his story or her illness.
Her dark eyes were glued to him as he gave his small explanation. It wasn't a lot, but she understood it completely. One of her hands reached out and laid on his shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry."
-
Truth be told, Ziva wasn't all that surprised when Reach began mumbling incessantly about the same things she always mumbled about. This was not the first time Reach had done so. And although the fair-haired English girl never verbally assigned a name to the mysterious "she", Ziva was not particularly dumb. Once, she had walked into the infirmary on hours she normally didn't work, after her hormones had overwhelmed her, and she had found the dark-skinned second-in-command, Wire, standing beside the desk and speaking the chore list in a clipped tone as Reach wrote it.
The tension had been suffocating and deafening and blinding all at once. She was a little inexperienced with certain things, perhaps, but Ziva certainly wasn't dumb. She hadn't ever directly talked to Wire, but she remembered the girl getting her and Diego rooms on the first night they were there, and then got another building open for them that next day.
Ziva hadn't actually said anything to Reach when she would mumble like this, but today, for some reason, it was just about driving her insane. "I doubt it's too late to tell her," she pointed out, not looking at Reach, but being loud enough to definitely be heard as she lifted a heavy crate of something out of the closet and placed it beside one of the piles.
In her pocket, Scabbers poked his head out. He wriggled himself out of her pants pocket and deftly climbed up her shirt so he was sitting on her shoulder and looking out at the piles. Probably looking for some mischief to get into, Ziva thought to herself. "I really don't know a whole lot about love, but I do know what it's like to be in love." She turned her head, craning her neck, so that she could place a kiss upon her familiar's side. "Unrequited, of course," she added hastily once it occurred to her that she may have implied something she didn't want to imply.
She picked Scabbers up and stroked him with her thumb, but he suddenly became intrigued by something, and crawled out of her hand and onto the crate she had just placed. He scampered along it before hopping off and heading into the closet. Ziva frowned and watched him as he disappeared inside the mess, and after a few moments, reappeared while dragging something that looked about the same size at him.
Ziva cocked her head to the side as she watched him approach. The thing had two parts, one looking almost like some sort of elongated stick with a smooth surface on one side. From the other side, a cord extended, attached to a set of earbuds. It took her a minute, but Ziva eventually realized what it was, and her heartbeat quickened.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
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Posted: 4/18/2019 at 6:56 PM
Post #442
Opening up to Trace should not be as easy as it was, but Howl was not going to question it. Yes, one of the rules he had learned as a kid on the streets was that you took care of yourself and never let anyone know your business. It was easy to talk to her, because he knew that regardless of how different their previous lives may have been, she understood him on a deep level. He hadn't had such a person in his life since...well, Chap.
What am I? Chopped liver? Mmm...liver... Quiet, you ridiculous canine!
If Howl were being completely honest with himself, he knew full well why he felt like he could let down his barriers around Trace, and why he couldn't stop thinking about the kiss they had shared. He knew what his feelings for her were, he accepted them, but the path forward was unclear. The fact was that Trace had a husband back in the outside world, a man that was presumably waiting for her to return, but they had no clear way off of this island. Did that mean that they weren't allowed to take what little happiness they could get?
"Thanks," he said, glancing down at her hand upon his shoulder, noting the warmth that seemed to radiate from that spot, "It was a very long time ago. I...I was able to get away eventually." That was...a fraction of the truth and nothing more. He could feel himself wanting to tell her everything...but perhaps not quite yet.
There was no shame when Howl spoke of his past, but it was a dark and dangerous tunnel to travel down. Some details still caused him to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, breaths coming rapid and shallow. On those nights, at least here on the island, all he could do was roll over, bury his hands and face deep into Chap's fur and ride out the storm of emotion.
"Alright, my turn," he said suddenly, smiling brightly and glancing up at her with a smile as soft as a cloud, "So, what happened to your, um..." He reached up and fiddled with his own ear a bit so she'd hopefully get the message.
-----
Love was complicated. This was a truth that Reach had long since discovered. Before the island, before she had retreated into her own little bubble of solitude, there had been Ronald. He had been a charming young man, a soldier in the war that had called upon her to take up the mantle of medic. When he had come into her care he'd been just another face, another patient that she dared not get close to. He had wormed his way into her heart, however, had fought for that privilege just as he'd fought for his country. She had loved him with all of her heart....
And then it had all come crashing down in a fiery inferno of death and chaos. One single moment, one single mistake and Reach's life had been turned upside down.
"Unrequited, hm?" she replied to Physic, her voice barely above a murmur as she pushed herself away from her desk and massaged the bridge of her nose before standing up, "I'd say to keep your teenaged opinion to yourself, but teenagers never listen anyway." She walked around her desk and sat lightly on the edge, watching Physic with a playful glint in her eye that she hoped the young girl would see to know she was teasing.
The hard pill to swallow was knowing that Physic was right. Even as Reach sat there in this office, watching her young friend sort through piles of miscellaneous junk, she knew that if she went to Wire right now and confessed everything that there was a good chance the dark-skinned woman would understand and everything would work out. So what was holding her back? It was fear...mind numbing, bone chilling fear, because what if it all went wrong? What if it just ended up like Ronald all over again? What if she wasn't meant to love or be happy because of what she was? These thoughts, these fears...they kept her back.
"You want some help?" she asked Physic, suddenly feeling the need to be doing something, but then she caught sight of the girl's rat familiar (seriously, of all the animals why did Physic need to have a rat?), and she changed her mind, "Actually, I think we're out of tea. I'll go stock up and make a pot." With a small smile, she exited the building, careful to stay as far away from little Scabbers as she could get.
Creativity
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Posted: 4/18/2019 at 7:54 PM
Post #443
It didn't take a genius to figure out that Trace had felt a good share of pain in her life - more than her fair share, Erik would always say. He was so funny; he always fretted over every little thing. That had been a tad bit annoying, she'd admit, but she loved him all the same, and she knew that he only fretted over a love for her. She found it interesting that, of everything, Howl would ask about her ear. Then again, she supposed it was certainly the most visible of her scars.
She remembered the day very clearly. Hamar Masriq. She'd been hired by the Iranian government, privately of course, to seek him out in Italy and return him to Iran, where they could deal with him accordingly. She was well-known in the top secret and very "hush-hush" societies. Mostly among the countries who didn't have anything, morally, against hiring an Australian assassin.
Masriq had been one of the more challenging foes she had taken down, and it was worse, still, that she had to do so while keeping him alive, as per the requests of the Iranian government. Self-consciously, she reached up and touched her mangled mess of a left ear - she was surprised she hadn't completely lost hearing in it. Only partial, which is why she wore a hearing aid in that ear, so that it could be as strong as her right. Otherwise, it'd have been immensely annoying.
"A scuffle in a factory," she responded, glancing at Howl before looking out at the peaceful compound again. "A good ol' cobber," she added, and then laughed a bit at the sarcasm. "The factory was old, but it worked. He was smart, too, and I was new, and still a bit of a drongo. He blinded me with some Manchester, and held my head against running blades."
She could still hear the whirring, loud and dominant, right next to her head. She was only nineteen at the time. "But that was a long time ago. "Do ya remember your parents at all?"
-
In truth, Ziva didn't really pay any attention to Reach after seeing what Scabbers had dragged out for her. She did care for the girl as a friend, but she hadn't really reached (haha) out to anyone since coming to the compound, besides maybe Flora. And, thinking about it, she was probably in a better spot with Flora than she was with Diego. That was... saddening. Highly disheartening, in fact. It made her chest ache, but she knew that her emotions were too far in wack for her to repair it.
She was vaguely aware of Reach leaving, but her heart was pounding too hard at the vision of Scabbers approaching with what she recognized as a doppler. Of course, she had never personally known a pregnant woman before - besides the occasional one in a foster home, but she was never close enough to any to really know a ton of firsthand or secondhand knowledge.
However, she had been training in medicine, and medicine was a vast, encompassing field. She did know a thing or two about the basics of pregnancy, even if she hadn't ever known a pregnant woman well enough to have experienced anything secondhand.
Scabbers stopped right before her, still dragging the doppler, and lifted his head to look at her. He cocked his head slightly, as if prompting her to take it. With a small sigh, Ziva leaned down and retrieved the darn thing, glancing around to make sure no one was around. For good measure, she locked the door to the infirmary, thanking her God that it locked from the inside, and then moved over to the examination table in the middle of the room. She hopped up onto it, feeling a mixture of dread and worry and excitement.
She lifted her shirt up over her head, glancing down at her stomach, which, of course, was not showing anything at all. But even if it didn't show anything at all, that didn't mean that the parasite wasn't still there. It didn't mean she wasn't stuck in this situation that would surely mean the end of her life - social, academic, and otherwise.
Plugging her ears with the pods, she held the machine end and pressed the 'on' button. Leaning back and propping herself up with one hand, she placed the flat end on her lower abdomen. She took another deep breath and moved it around a little, closing her eyes. She didn't know if she was hoping she'd find it, or dreading. She didn't know what she'd do if she found it, what it would mean. To actually hear the parasite that would be the absolute end of her... What would it mean?
The moment she found it, all thoughts fell out of her mind. She inhaled sharply, eyes closing a bit tighter as she heard the very gentle, very fast thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump of her baby's heartbeat. Her own heart sped up, beating twice as fast. There was something she was carrying, and it was alive. The heartbeat was faint, but it was there. Damn it... There was no changing it. There was no turning away, or turning back. She was having a baby.
Edited By Creativity on 4/18/2019 at 7:55 PM.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
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Posts: 2,041
Posted: 4/18/2019 at 10:40 PM
Post #444
After what Howl had learned about Trace in quarantine, he couldn't say he found her story surprising. He did find it saddening, heartbreaking, because her life had been so full of pain and hardships. It was probably ironic for him to be so torn up over someone's life being hard considering he had grown up homeless on the streets of Greece, but there it was. He wanted to rewrite history, to give her the life she deserved instead of the one she'd been given.
But then...pain and hardships build character, and if she had never been through any of that would she still even be Trace? Howl supposed not...
"Wow," he said, a lame response but his voice was full of respect for what she'd been through and the scars she bore as a result, "Now see how am I supposed to top a story like that?" He grinned, his soft but contagious grin.
For the few moments of silence that passed between them, Howl felt like things were so close to perfect that it was hard for him to remind himself how terrible the place they were being held at was. The sun was shining, but as always as long as you could find a nice shady tree being outside all day was pleasant. He had Chap on one side and Trace on his other and it was almost lunchtime which meant food. It felt like nothing could make this any better...but he should have known that meant there were plenty of things that could make it worse. When he heard Trace's question his whole body tensed and not in a good way.
"Not really," he said truthfully, pushing himself so he was sitting straight up, arms wrapped lazily around his knees, "All of my early memories are of Duke, you know, the gang leader." He paused...but he almost couldn't help but continue. "Sometimes...sometimes when I dream I dream of them. I can't see them but I know they're there and I'm looking for them. I'm in a house, moving from room to room calling for them. I finally get to the kitchen and they're both standing there with their backs turned. I always wake up right before I see their faces." Without realizing, he had reached his hand out as he spoke so that it was now held out in mid-air, as though he could actually stretch out his arm and grab hold of those elusive images.
Creativity
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Posted: 4/19/2019 at 1:21 AM
Post #445
When Trace considered her own childhood, she didn't think of it as the worst possible one she could have had. At least she had gotten to know her parents, even if her recollection of her mother was very limited. She couldn't have imagined what it was like to grow up without them, and without her brother. To be all alone in an unforgiving world, the entirety of your life... She tightened her grip on Howl's shoulder just a little bit. She wasn't always the most understanding person, but Howl was... different. He didn't try to force her to understand.
She watched his hand as he extended it, as if reaching for some sort of phantom that wasn't there. Trace knew the feeling well. The dream he spoke of, she knew the type. Her first few months on the island had been rough. She didn't understand why Mantis couldn't just leave her well enough alone. Why they had to take her away from Erik.
With time, she had adjusted, figured out how to continue without him as her supporting stone again, and reminding herself every day that she'd get to see him again some time. Once she escaped, like she had done every other hellhole Mantis had tried to place her in. They called her a dog, or a mutt, but she fancied herself more of a... Well. Wolf. Her eyes glanced in the direction of Howl's familiar, Chap.
Uncageable. Uncapturable. She'd escape.
Her own mutt, Kutta, was lounging a couple feet behind them, smart enough not to get in Trace's way or, really, eyesight. Filthy bloodhound...
"I could find them for you," Trace told him suddenly, looking him in the eyes. "If you wanted me to. I mean, it's easier when I have a possession of the person I'm trying to find, but I could do it by blood," she explained, her gaze drifting off before she trained them on his face again. "If you wanted me to."
-
To live with a hand constantly around one's throat. To survive in captivity, to wonder what it was like to be free, to thrive rather than to merely survive. It wasn't his fault. He always told himself that none of it was his fault, because it wasn't. All he had to do, if he wanted to be free, was to go day by day and fill out his duties, those to the compound and those to its awful scientists and doctors.
Identify was outside again, helping to clean up one of the individual sections which the compound was divided into. This was a chore that he'd had for years. Back when this sector of the compound had started up, there hadn't really been a chore list, but once a leader took over, after about a year, and he started putting things together, he had assigned the name, the meaningless name - Identify - to this sector. Now, over the years, Identify had seen others be assigned to help out, get moved, responsibilities changed. But he had always been kept on it, even after Kicker died, even after Tox took control, even after Tox let that control lapse and the newer woman, Wire, took charge of the chore list.
The routine was refreshing, calming. He blended into the crowd so that he could be so easily overlooked.
There was a woman, out with him today. Identify was very good with names, and simply from passing by, he knew her name to be Echo. Not that he had ever really spoken to her, or anyone in this compound. And that was very well. He didn't need to speak to them. Speaking was wasting precious air.
As Identify placed another piece of trash - an empty carton of milk - into his own trash bag, he became so acutely aware, all of a sudden, of a rather peculiar-looking rock, just lying on the sidewalk. Abandoning the trash bag, he bent over to pick up the rock. It was shaped just like a six-sided star, and was flat and smooth to the touch. It was almost as if it had been crafted specially.
He was overwhelmed with the urge to show it to someone, so that they could also delight in this small wonder that he had found. The only person around was Echo, and while they had cleaned this sector together for over a year now, he doubted she could pick him out a lineup. Still, he approached her with the fascinated vigor of a child, the rock cradled in his hands. He didn't touch her, or greet her, or introduce himself. He just spoke one word.
"Star."
Britters
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The Eggstraordinaire
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Posted: 4/19/2019 at 5:53 PM
Post #446
Growing up as an orphan was understandably tough, but really Howl considered himself one of the lucky ones. He was naturally lean and surefooted, making him an excellent choice for thieving work. The gang master who had picked him up treated him well enough as long as he didn't disobey the rules, and the scars on his back were evidence that he hadn't always been able to do that. More than once his punishment had come as a result of his attempts to protect to younger ones from being struck.
There were demons that existed in the dark tunnel of Howl's past, which is why he usually focused only on the present. Anytime he ventured down that abysmal hole he knew he ran the risk of getting lost, but so far he'd managed to stay out of the clutches of his worst memories. He had nothing to fear today though...because of Trace. Her hand, with its comforting pressure on his shoulder, was like an anchor in the storm. He felt himself pulling himself back together, until the tempest in his heart and mind had quieted. It was with profound relief that he was able to take a final deep breath and feel calm inside again.
It wasn't really that thinking about his parents was so unpleasant to Howl, but he had learned a long time ago that all it did was made him think about how different things might have been if they hadn't abandoned him. He could have had a real family, a mom to tuck him in at night and make him lunch, a dad to read him stories and teach him how to fish. Maybe he could have even had siblings, a brother or sister...or both. So many scenarios and probabilities swirled in his mind, enough to drive a man crazy...
Better not to think about his parents at all, Howl had decided. Better for him, better for everyone. Besides...he didn't even know if they were alive, and if they were...
"They abandoned me," he said, his silvery eyes hardening for the briefest of moments as he met Trace's gaze, "If they're alive then they made their choice a long time ago. I wouldn't recognize them and they wouldn't recognize me, and besides I don't really need them..." He reached out his left hand to stroke Chap's soft fur, and without thinking he reached up with his other hand and laid it over Trace's on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
-----
Another day of picking up trash until her back ached was coming to a close, and Echo could not have been happier. She certainly hadn't been a stranger to hard work before being brought to the island, but after that accident during a survey of an underwater cave system when she was twenty six years old, her back had been prone to pain. Complaints were not something she believed in, since if you had a complaint that just meant that you weren't trying hard enough to adapt to the situation, so she did whatever job was assigned to her and she did it with a positive attitude.
Everything that had happened in Echo's life up until her time here at the compound had been one giant battle. When she was a teenager she'd gotten pregnant, but lost the baby at birth. This lit a fire within her to take her life down a more successful path, and that was just what she'd done. She had thrown herself into her school studies, forsaking everything else, including her social life. She got into an excellent school and came out with her Masters degree in geology. She was paid big bucks to collect mineral samples from all over the world and present the results to her employers. She'd had it all...
Okay, so Echo could admit that the life she had made for herself was a lonely one. She was in her thirties now, but she'd never spent anytime worrying about dating while she built her career. It just hadn't seemed important to her at the time. Since being abducted and brought to this island compound, she had started to think of all the things she hadn't been able to do with her life that were now impossible. She knew it was pointless to dwell on such depressing thoughts, but what else did she have time for besides thinking?
When Identify approached her, Echo's initially response was to tense her muscles and regard him warily. They had been working together on trash duty in this section for over a year, but they never spoke to each other. She only knew his name because she'd asked Tox when she was first assigned to this job, and so she didn't know what kind of person he was. However, as soon as she saw the rock he held out, and the fascination in his eyes, she softened almost immediately.
"No, not a star, that sort of coloration doesn't occur in rocks originating in space," she told him, tilting her head and smiling ever so slightly, "It looked like a quartzitic rock with a high feldspar content thats been fractured and eroded into a shape that reminds you of a star. You know, feldspar actually makes up most of the Earth's crust?" Yeah, she wasn't much of a conversationalist at the best of times, but rocks...rocks she could talk about forever.
Creativity
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Posted: 4/19/2019 at 6:17 PM
Post #447
At one point, Trace's life had had some sort of order. Some sort of endgoal, something to drive her and keep her going. Now, all she had was the desire to live. The desire to get back to her husband and work for the rest of the money she needed to get her heart condition fixed and gone forever. She had no greater purpose now, no actual use. Her Ability had always been a fun little toy. When she was a child, she would show it off in the travelling show her parents had, while her brother would show off his mimicry.
However, there had been no actual use for her Ability until she was sixteen. It was right after her father had died, and she had grown even more distant and moody. She had left her brother and lived in shoddy apartments, working low jobs, signing slips and enrollment papers and such under the guise of a guardian who did not actually exist.
One day, in class, she had found one of her classmates, Rosalie, sobbing. The word was running rampant in a rumor, and it didn't take long before it had gotten to Trace. Rosalie's younger sister, Emilie, had gone missing. She didn't know what made her do it, what made her care more for this little girl she had never met rather than her brother, but what she did know was that she'd do it again in a heartbeat, even if finding the little girl was connected to her being taken by Mantis.
She watched Howl's hand as it covered hers, and then shifted so she was facing him more. He was so strong... Without her parents, she'd've been lost as a child. He deserved to be happy. In fact, she should be allowed to be happy, too.. In spite of all of the pain and hardships she had endured, she had a right to be happy. Erik would understand...
Without letting herself think about it any further, or convince herself that it was certainly a bad idea, Trace leaned forward, pressing her lips tenderly against Howl's.
-
If there was one thing, really, that Identify firmly believed in, it was balance. Everything had balance, and balance was necessary for survival. One could receive the happiest news of their life, but without any sort of bad news, it just simply wouldn't be reality. Reality would be warped in such a way that the person, confronted with only the happiness and not knowing any sort of negative emotion, would become so overwhelmed by that happiness that he or she would not know how to live with any more of it, and would consequently lose his or her mind, possibly resulting in an unnatural death.
No, balance was definitely necessary for survival. Identify understood that. Not everyone did, he knew, and he was often willing to help them see when they would show their need for correction. After all, he didn't like doing bad or malicious things, even if he had to do them so often for the sake of his own sanity. He helped more than he hurt, he thought. Or, at least, he would, if he ever escaped Mantis' hold, if he was ever free.
He was surprised when Echo fell into some big tirade about the rock that he had been meaning to show her out of some childish desire to share his little joys, something he hadn't had the chance to exercise in youth, but he wasn't altogether irritated by her ranting. In fact, it was quite delightful, and he found himself with his gaze glued to her face, taking in the way that her mouth moved in perfect symmetry.
People didn't often talk to him. They didn't know him, or realize his presence. Identify knew that. The fact that this woman was so compelled to explain things to him was somewhat amazing, and he knew he wouldn't say anything to stop her or slow her down. At her question, he merely gave a small shake of his head, a small grin pulling at the corners of his lips and the rock, forgotten, in his hand.
There was a small click! in both of his ears, and Identify was reminded briefly of those who did talk to him now. A faint buzzing, quiet enough to only be hear by him, obstructed his hearing. Mantis had, at first, tried to only put it in one ear, but he had completely panicked at the lack of balance, lost all control. He tried to ignore the fact that someone was now actively listening to everything he heard and instead kept his focus on Echo, silently urging her to continue speaking.
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
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Posted: 4/20/2019 at 5:17 AM
Post #448
With every second of her life devoted to studying and working, Echo had never been much of a social person. She had dealt with her fair share of pig-headed, chauvinistic men both at university and in her chosen career field. Some were businessmen who hired her, others were her colleagues, but she had learned that the right balance of fake charm and sarcasm could get you a long way. It had gotten her quite far in her life and career, that was for sure.
Still, it wasn't as though most people Echo spoke with had any real interest in what she had to say...which is exactly what made Identify's level of honest attention so refreshing.
"Quartz is a common igneous rock," she told him, taking his subtle encouragement as a sign he wanted her to continue, "But the composition of this sample along with the tropical climate and foliage here suggests that this area had or has an active volcano." She took the opportunity to set her trash collection equipment on the ground and reached up to tuck some of her wild, honey colored hair which had come loose from the kerchief she wore.
There was an oddness to speaking to Identify, but it didn't make Echo feel uncomfortable. She knew nothing about him besides his name, which wasn't even really his name, but then again she didn't know that much about anyone else here at the compound besides the usual information you absorb over the course of four years. With him there as nothing, just that he was quiet, he never caused trouble, and he was easy enough to work alongside. She found that she enjoyed how quietly invested he seemed to be in what she was saying, but she did pause long enough to wonder...
"You don't talk much do you?" she asked casually, eyeing him with dark brown eyes, a soft smile on her lips, "Can you talk?" She felt her cheeks grow warm when she realized that might have been a slightly inappropriate question, so she quickly tried to cover her blunder. "You know, I have some other really nice rock and mineral pieces I've collected while I've been here if you were ever interested in seeing them." He seemed nice enough, and harmless. Besides, she was definitely enjoying the interaction.
-----
Today was a good day. Normally, Diego wouldn't make the distinction between such a regular day and any other, but life hadn't been exactly easy lately. It wasn't just the fact that he and his best friend had been abducted and imprisoned at this compound. It wasn't even the fact that his hands ached dully from spending the last several hours peeling potatoes. Living with the fact that his own stupidity had potentially ruined the only thing he truly cherished in life: his friendship with Ziva. That and that alone had made the last almost month and a half a living hell.
However, today...today was a good day.
"How long could it possibly take to cook potatoes?" he griped good-naturedly, for he truly felt too good right now to be genuinely irritated by anything, "I'm starving." He absently massaged one of his hands with the other as he glanced across the table.
The fact that Ziva was sitting across from him while they both waited for the call for dinner was enough cause or celebration, since lately it was just as common for her to take her meals in the infirmary ("to keep up with my work" she said). The fact that she was smiling today, positively glowing with happiness really, was the real miracle. She had been so forlorn, so reclusive in recent weeks, that Diego had really started to despair he had damaged their relationship beyond repair. The thought of this had saddened him more than he could ever remember feeling in his life, even at his grandparents funeral as a younger teen.
"Hey, Z," he said, his grey eyes glinting with mischief, "You've got something on your shirt?" It was a lame joke, but they had always laughed together about the fact that no matter how hard she tried, Ziva simply couldn't not look, and when she inevitably did this time, he took the opportunity to toss a napkin he had wadded up into a tight ball at her face.
Edited By Britters on 4/21/2019 at 12:51 AM.
Creativity
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Joined: 3/4/2013
Threads: 255
Posts: 5,902
Posted: 4/22/2019 at 10:50 PM
Post #449
Even though Identify was very much invested in what Echo was saying - not for the content, which was interesting, of course, but not exactly his passion (not that he'd really know what his passion was if he was asked), but for the fact that she was simply speaking to him, without any expectations, without ordering him or commanding him or controlling him, just speaking - it seemed that his familiar was not so invested in the geological garble.
Vapaus snorted irritably and rolled over, her fawn-spotted fur gathering leaves and twigs. Identify didn't spare her a glance, though. It had been...unexpected, when he was brought to the island, and the next day awoke with a small pig dozing on his floor. No other part of Mantis had had such a thing, and when he asked, he was only answered with a casual 'It's part of the island. Don't worry about it, freak.' He did like his familiar, but he thought she perhaps had a bit more sass than he would have preferred. She also tended to stick out, being so much furrier and differently-colored than your standard pig.
At Echo's questions, Identify felt his heart's speed pick up just a little. He wasn't used to being addressed without a command following, addressed with a simple, harmless question, no more than he was used to being spoken to. He shook his head at her first question, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth. No, he didn't speak. Speaking was dangerous. Speaking resulted in being beaten with a bookend, and being burned with the butt of a cigarette. Speaking resulted in getting kidnapped, in getting strapped to a table and pierced with knives and dissected by wicked, sick people.
To her second question, he was about to nod, but then figured that after all of the speaking she had done for him, she deserved at least a verbal confirmation to the question. "Yes," he responded, his voice raspy and hoarse. He never used it. Perhaps once a week, when he really needed to.
Then, she did something that further surprised him. She surpassed the simple conversation. She reached out. No one had ever reached out to him so innocently before. He nodded fully this time, and then braved through another word. "Yes."
-
Compared to how the last five or so weeks had been, especially the absolute misery of the last few days, Ziva definitely had to say that today was a pretty good day. Her body had been so out of wack, so out of touch, over the past few weeks, that she considered it a miracle she had made it this far without spontaneously combusting, or something of the sort. Nowadays, it felt like she was a ticking time bomb that glitched horribly, and could only hope and pray that it didn't explode or vomit everywhere.
But today... Today, the paras-... baby... wasn't really screwing with her all that much. To top it off, she had slept pretty well in her nap - she had taken to napping at least once a day now, because losing a couple hours of the day was definitely better than being fatigued and insanely cranky throughout.
She had been expecting for the pregnancy to throw off her diet, but she had been unprepared, still, for when the nausea kicked in full bore. She had suffered from a bit of it before, but the past few days, it had become unbearable. There were days she could hardly even eat because she felt so sick. She had to wait for it to subside a bit in order for her to force a few bites of something down her throat, and then valiantly and miserably fight the flare that those few bites would cause.
She didn't want to look, when Diego did that stupid prank he used to always do. And yet, the small twinge of anxiety that there actually might be something on her shirt eventually won over, and she glanced down at her shirt, finding that, as always, there was nothing there. And then the napkin hit her in the face.
Her gaze flicked back up to Diego, and she couldn't help the grin on her face. "You jerk," she complained, but it was all in good fun. She stood up, crossing her arms over her chest and hunching her shoulders, forcing the smile to leave her. She feigned the same moody mess she had been the past five weeks.
And yet, she wasn't gonna let him get away with that same old trick. Still acting like she wasn't in as good of a mood, she crossed behind Diego, and, unable to keep it up any longer when she actually felt so unusually elated. Once behind him, she pounced, reaching over him with both arms and furiously tickling his sides, her head right next to his, ending up on his right shoulder.
"You're not getting away so easily, tonto."
Britters
Level 72
The Eggstraordinaire
Joined: 8/25/2014
Threads: 167
Posts: 2,041
Posted: 4/23/2019 at 1:58 AM
Post #450
If there were a way to live in this moment forever, Diego figured that would be alright with him. It was like the graduation party had never happened, like they weren't prisoners on and island compound in the middle of nowhere. Then there was the inevitable confusion in his mind because the more he thought about it...he couldn't bring himself to regret anything that had happened. He felt like he was never going to get out of this vicious cycle, but if that was his punishment for what he'd let her go through, then he would accept it.
As long as there could still be days like today...as long as Diego was still able to see her smile.
"I can't help it if you're an easy mark," he told her, grinning back at her, faltering only a little when she seemed to stand up and sulk, "Ziva...?" He watched her, his grey eyes growing more wary by the second, and it saddened him as she made her way behind him.
There would never have been a need to be wary before...they always knew exactly what the other was thinking and feeling. Now, though...
When Ziva first laid her hands on him, Diego's mind was still so wrapped up in lamenting his friendship that he almost couldn't process what was happening. Of course, Ziva knew that just like she couldn't help but look at her shirt during his joke, he couldn't possibly resist being tickled. It was a weakness of his, and he quickly started laughing hysterically, his body jerking around of its own accord. Her head right on his shoulder, her breath on his ear, was having an effect on him that it had never had before, but the tickling...the forsaken tickling was preventing him from thinking properly.
"You're forgetting something, Z," he managed to say, practically wheezing through his laughter, "I've got great defense." He hadn't used his ability in weeks, but it was like riding a bike.
Though he was barely able to concentrate, Diego managed to create a metal shield over enough skin that the effect of her tickling let up enough for him to twist around, grab her, and send them both tumbling lightly to the ground. They landed next to each other on their backs and he couldn't help but just laugh loud and long as he pushed himself up on his elbow and looked over at Ziva, at her smile...and for a single moment all he could think about was how beautiful she looked. He just wanted to cherish this moment...
So he bent his head down and kissed her.
Edited By Britters on 4/23/2019 at 1:59 AM.
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