h2no | IC contact 2.0

I do. I have so many questions.

[her comment makes him snort a short laugh, though. it makes him grimace after, but not for long.]

Yeah? Knock me out then, coward.

That would be police brutality. [ Deadpan: ] Knock your own damn self out.

[ Though that little grimace didn't pass her notice. She finally lets go of his hand, sitting up again so that she isn't leaning any weight on him. Quieter, and a bit more seriously: ]

Does it still hurt bad?

Do I look like I can? [he says, making a noise much like a hurmpf.] Yeah. It's gonna for a while. Not all of us are blessed with incredible healin'. Figures I got a power that don't work on myself when it counts, though. Only managed to heal myself once.

[he holds a hand up, that pastel rainbow aura he feels like he stole from a pokémon that knows the move heal pulse floating around it. usually it leaks towards people that need it in the vicinity, but it doesn't affect archie and andy is immortal. so it just floats there, aesthetic and fucking useless.]

Felt like shit then, too. Ugh.

[ She frowns a little at that phrasing — blessed with healing, he says, and she might be inclined to argue under different circumstances — but it only lasts a moment or two before the tiredness settles back in. It's not the kind of day where she has the energy to be ornery properly. ]

Maybe you shouldn't go around getting shot then.

[ A little berating, but not with any real bite. She watches that floating light as it hovers there, lovely and utterly unhelpful. ]

[he hadn't meant it seriously, anyway. what kind of idiot would want andy's curse? other than poe, of course.]

It was a sword, that time. From a fake Roman soldier.

[he reaches out and... pokes her nose with his finger, just as the light fades out.] 2017 was a wild time.

[ She opens her mouth to say something, probably about how getting stabbed by a sword is actually a little worse than being shot by a bullet — but then he's reaching out and fucking... Booping her nose. Like she's a little girl or something. And she's so surprised by it that the words die in her mouth when she recoils, her nose wrinkling up as she leans back. ]

Did you just...?

[ Andy squints at him, lifting her hand to lightly touch her own nose, as if the experience was so surreal she isn't one hundred percent sure it just happened. ]

[archie definitely does not realise it's as big of a thing as she's reacting, so he just looks confused.]

What?

[ She makes a face at him.

Then reaches out and smushes his nose in return, pressing it like a button with her palm. ]

Ahndromanche!

[his voice is a little distorted from his snoot being squished. he does not move back. he is just silently astounded.]

Edited 2019-09-11 16:39 (UTC)

[ She squints.

Then pushes a little harder, flattening his nose even more.

She's not sorry. She's a monster. ]

[archie just lets himself be pushed back into his pillow with a pathetic little nasally whine.]

[ She doesn't relent — not for another good two, three seconds. Her eyes are still narrowed. She's leaning into it a bit, scrutinizing him as she does like she's trying to discern if he's learned his lesson about daring to boop her.

Then, abruptly, she releases him

and leans the rest of the way

to press an amicable little kiss to the tip of his smushed nose.

Mildly: ]

If you ever scare me like this again, I'm going to fucking kill you.

[he is laying back there with the biggest pout.]

It would probably be preferable to the permanent damage this shit is gonna do to me...

[ Her hand is tender, in its way, as she lingers, smoothing hair back from his brow — a contrast to the unrepentant dryness of her voice, the slight habitual bite to her words: ]

Not likely. You know how many ways I've mastered of killing a man slowly?

[he grumbles under it, like he's so put upon, but reaches up with both hands to take hers. no reason other than to just hold it-- press the pads of his thumbs to her palm.]

Let me guess. Ten with each finger?

[ She doesn't fight it. Just lets him take her hand and hold it. Nobody has to know. ]

Something like that.

[ With her other hand, she flicks him lightly between the eyebrows, as if to demonstrate her deadly skill. ]

Edited 2019-09-15 03:58 (UTC)

That's motivation to get out of here, you know. Get out and put more trainin' dummies together so you can really show off with Pussydestroyer for me. Forget beer cans.

[something he'd wanted to do with her for a while, but-- shit keeps coming up.]

[ Ah.

She feels a funny, unexpected little spark of warmth. Maybe he's fucking teasing her, but it means more than she might want it to, the idea that she might be, in any small part, a reason for him to get better. ]

Yeah? Is that what you think I've been honing my skill for, all these centuries? [ With a mild, almost gentle wryness: ] So I can amuse you when you finally get your crippled ass up out of bed?

[jokes on the bastard andromache: she definitely is.]

...Tryin' to think of any other reason and I'm comin' up blank, here. Might be the drugs.

[ It might be faintly amused when she answers: ]

Alright. Fine. Do it for Pussydestroyer then. I'll wave her around a little, if you want. [ Wry as ever: ] You're so charmed by the ax thing, it makes me feel half-bad I've never shown you what I can do with a bow.

[ Spoilers: She's pro as fuck. ]

Mmm.

[he tugs her hand forward, flattening it out against his own and pressing her palm to his own cheek under his hand. he leans on it, eyes fluttering closed.

thoughtfully:] I can make you one of those as well, if you give me a couple months.

Not better than I can.

[ She doesn't resist, letting him pull her hand towards him to use as a pillow. No complaints — she just subtly shifts her weight a little, moving closer to that it's a bit more comfortable. ]

I'll make one. It'll be done by the time you're well enough to watch me shoot with it.

Watch me, [is all he says, letting his eyes flutter closed as he leans against her hand.] having a finite amount of time really kicks your ass into gear.

Helps not having a hole in your gut, though.

[ Her voice has gotten quiet though. He should rest. She should let him. If she doesn't move much, maybe he'll drift off in a minute. She won't even mind — what's the worst that could happen? Her hand goes numb? Falls off? Hell, it'll grow right back.

The things she endures for love. ]

(no subject)

h2no - 2019-09-23 14:59 (UTC) - Expand