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| Dissolved Girl; 5/24 - late night-(Little Kitty, Nezhno) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Feb 12 2015, 06:43 PM (339 Views) | |
| Kitty Pryde | Feb 12 2015, 06:43 PM Post #1 |
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Unphased
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[Cont'd from Lessons Learned] Figure out what makes you happy. Find somebody that's a real friend. That you like being around, even when you're in a crappy head place. It was actually good advice, Kitty Pryde decided. As she'd kinda walked around for a little while (a really little while, since it hadn't taken long to figure out that wasn't the greatest idea she'd ever had), she'd thought about that, worked it around in her head in a few different ways . Finished off the other three beers? Had it been three? Four? Two? The brunette gave her head a shake (alright, bad idea), then decided she couldn't remember for sure and it probably didn't matter. There had been beer, now it was late - at least she was fairly sure it was late, it felt late - and she was...tired, she guessed, but not that tired. Not tired enough to really want to go back to her room. Her room and Bobby's room. Where Bobby would be again by now, probably, and where it'd just end up in yet another fight she didn't want to have. Because, yet again, she hadn't been right there when he needed her. Hadn't managed to get it right for the umpteenth time and...ugh. Yeah, she was annoying herself again and she really just didn't want to have to deal with Bobby and his issues and her failures or whatever again tonight. If that made her a horrible person and an even more horrible girlfriend, then so be it. Kitty was pretty sure she'd be even more horrible if she went back and said all the things to Bobby tonight that she had to say and that she wanted to say and that she needed to say. There hadn't been enough beer to make her forget that, or enough to stop her from feeling a stab of guilt for considering the idea of just going and getting it over with anyway, horrible or not. So, she could've just stayed up on the main deck. It was a little chilly up there, but not that bad. She'd managed nights that were a lot worse, but she was tired of sitting and staring at the stars. And, well, like she'd told Jessica Cage, wife of Luke Cage, she did think she actually had one friend here that fit the criteria and that she wouldn't end up feeling like she was just dumping things on when they already had more than enough to deal with. Someone she stood a chance of actually being able to talk to. Or maybe just hang out with and who'd get it. That decision made, more or less, the brunette managed enough concentration to phase herself down through the helicarrier decks. Not as steadily or with as much finesse and control as she'd have liked, but in one piece and still stopping herself on the floor she wanted on the first try. Maybe with more of a sudden, jolting stop than she'd have liked when she went solid again, but not that bad. Man, okay, all that sudden movement wasn't a great idea, but Kitty gave it a second, bracing her hand against the hall wall, and the urge to redecorate the hall carpet with half-digested beer passed. Then she blinked, trying to clear the fuzz from her vision, wondered if she'd forgot to put in her contacts, then decided that didn't matter either. She knew where she was and where she was going. Mostly she thought knew those things. Maybe not as much as she'd though, since getting down the hall in a straight line wasn't as easy as it should've been, but she got to the door she wanted. Or she'd thought it had been the door she wanted, except...where'd all these shelves come from? Wait, okay, no. Supply closet. Wrong door. It took her a second to get back out of the supply closet, but that was just because it was dark in there. Made it back into the hall, though, and went down a couple more doors and tried that one instead. Better, she decided, as she phased through the door and there was an actual room. Encountered the unexpected corner of a chair as she moved forward, but she phased through that, too, before she could smash into and make too much noise. Stopped to maybe let her eyes adjust a little to the darker room, but that didn't seem to be helping much. Definitely forgot her contacts. Everything wasn't just dark, it was blurry and dark. Should've brought her glasses, but she could still navigate. Especially if she was phased until she got where she was going. Which wasn't far, just a few steps over toward what she identified as the bed. She stopped beside that to make sure she could identify the person in it. Dark skin, silver tattoos catching what little bit of light was managing to get into the room on one lean muscled shoulder. Definitely Nezh and Kitty smiled. Felt maybe a little bad about wandering in when he was asleep, but not enough to keep her from sitting down on the edge of the bed. At least that had been the plan. It didn't quite work out in practice the way it had in theory. What actually happened was she overestimated, or underestimated, or something like that and ended up more sprawled across where his lap was, or would be if he wasn't lying down, than beside him. Oops. Close enough, she decided, after a half-second's frown, and Kitty shrugged it off, smiling at him instead and greeting him with a whispered, "Hi. It's late," as she tried to more or less sit herself up again. And smiled some more, gave up on that and sort of half turned herself around instead, got her legs tangled up in the covers and ended up sort of in a more or less face to face kind of position that she hadn't quite been expecting. Not that it was a bad or anything. Actually, it was pretty nice, which she also hadn't been exactly expecting (or at least admitting that she'd been expecting), so yeah. This would work. |
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| Gentle | Feb 12 2015, 11:36 PM Post #2 |
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Who doesn't like Black Russians?
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[Continued from It was not Death, for I stood up, I suspect. Possibly subject to change.] He’d been dreaming. That wasn’t so unusual. The more surprising part - at least after everything that had happened that day, and the way he’d felt when he’d finally stumbled into his bed at the end of it - was that against all the odds, it had been a good dream. She’d been there. Wearing the skirt she’d been wearing the first day she’d ever spoken to him - the Wakandan one, patterned cotton that moved every time she did - but she was in his arms, close enough that if it hadn’t been a dream, he could have smelled the scents of her hair, and… …something moved, landing on his stomach. Nezhno stirred groggily from the depths of the dream, eyelids lifting open to a room that was only slightly lighter than with his eyes closed. Still just enough light though to make out that the weight on his body was a person when he stretched one arm, trying to prop himself up on an elbow, though. A female person. He could see that much. What… another dream? But he’d liked the last one. He hadn’t wanted it to end. …was it… who on earth would be doing this? Foggy and still more than half asleep, he tried to think through the options that could have been likely. Mel? Mel was… back. No, she had other people with her tonight, she didn’t need to find him if she needed someone to be there with her. If Gloria had needed him for something, she wouldn’t have bothered with this - she would already have dragged him out of bed and onto the floor. Veil would have had five sentences spoken already… The slight weight of the girl moved against him. “Hi. It's late,” she whispered, with a smile in her voice. Her voice. Oh gods… it was her. It was Kitty Pryde. He was still dreaming. Nezhno knew it, then knew it with even more certainty, when she slipped around on the tangle of bedsheets, rearranging herself so that she was there, lying alongside him. It was just light enough in the dim of the room to see her looking at him. Smiling. Still a dream, it couldn’t be anything but a dream, if it was Kitty Pryde… but it was a good dream. And since it was a dream, and no one but he would ever know about it, he didn’t have to stop himself from thinking. “It’s you,” he said, and he smiled, twisting his body so that he was really facing her, and reached with one hand toward her, finger tips brushing down the top of her shoulder just to see if she was really solid before he slid it down lower. To her waist, pulling her closer to him as he rolled onto his back, thinking to lift her so she was on top of him. Just a dream. But it was a nice one. |
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| Kitty Pryde | Feb 13 2015, 10:01 PM Post #3 |
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Unphased
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Late. It was late and..she shouldn't be here? There was half a suspicion in the back of her mind somewhere, fuzzy and indistinct like her eyesight without her glasses or her contacts (how the heck had she managed to lose her contacts?), that she shouldn't. It didn't make sense, though. This is where Jessica Cage, and the Logan...kind of, had told her she should go. What she'd told her she should do. It had been good advice. The slender brunette remembered that, the same as she remembered where she didn't want to be and why, whether that was where she should be or not. So Kitty ignored that particular confusing, conflicting, fuzzy thought. Brushed it away from her mind as she shifted around and tangled herself up in the covers and managed to still not be sitting up when she was done. She'd at least managed beside, though. Not entirely on purpose but it was okay. It was actually better than okay. That was unexpected, or that's what she tried to tell herself. It wasn't really. Unexpected. “It’s you,” Nezh's voice said and Kitty could see his smile as he turned to face her, close and warm. "Mmm-hmm," she confirmed, still smiling as his fingers traced along her shoulder and her lashes drifted downward. "It's me." It was her. And it was him and that seemed...exactly like it should be right now. Not because everything in her head was a mess, but because with Nezh it felt like a lot less of a mess somehow. Or maybe like it mattered less. Maybe that's what Luke Cage's wife had meant. His hand moved lower, settling at her waist and she lifted one arm, wrapped it over his shoulder. Then he was on his back and she was stretched out over him. Close. Really close. That was okay, too, she decided without having to actually think about it for once. Good. Easy. Reminding her what it felt like, suddenly. For that, this, to be easy. The way it used to be easy. And hadn't been for...a long time. Head resting on his shoulder, Kitty shifted. Just a little. Bent one leg over his. Found a comfortable place where she fit against him as her fingers lightly and slowly traced the pattern of the silver vibranium tattoos along the side of his neck to his jaw. "These are really beautiful," she commented quietly, eyes moving from following the path her fingers were taking to settle on his face. So was he. Why couldn't she have- It was a thought she didn't finish. Instead, she didn't think anything. Just shifted up slightly more and kissed him, fingers curling lightly over the side of his neck. Lips pressing lightly, tentatively, against his, then not as lightly. Nezh, he was something that made her happy, too. |
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| Gentle | Feb 18 2015, 10:24 PM Post #4 |
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Who doesn't like Black Russians?
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“Mmm-hmm,” she said - no, she smiled - at him, “It’s me.” It was her. And those were her fingers, Kitty Pryde’s fingers, drifting like points of soft spring sunshine across his skin. Touching her wasn’t even a choice. It was a dream, but it was one Nezhno had dreamed before, more than he ever should, and it was all too easy to fall into it one more time, running his own hand down from her shoulder to her waist and drawing her on top of him. Not something he’d let himself even think about doing when he was awake, but then, he wasn’t, was he? Kitty Pryde was in his bed, and she was moving with him, pressing her slender form against his body as she moved with him. Almost as though she’d already known what he’d be doing, with an arm at his shoulder, and her head settling against the other. She was warm. Softer than he’d ever dared imagine, in spite of her slimness. Even in a dream, he wanted to make the moment stretch out into something that would last into forever, but his hand had other ideas. It was already moving, tracing the curve of her waist. Trying to burn to its memory exactly what it might feel like to touch her, while her leg bent, pressing slightly against his. Her fingers were still moving over his skin, each touch too immediate and real to be anything but a dream. It didn’t hurt at all. His pulse might be racing, but not because of hurt. In fact, it felt like the opposite, even when one fingertip followed one of the lines of a tattoo all the way up neck. “These are really beautiful," she commented quietly, as Nezhno slowly opened his eyes again and tilted his chin so that he could look at her. “You’re beautiful,” he told her, the way he’d like to have been able to tell her when he was awake. Seriously, but simply, because he couldn’t imagine saying anything more true than that. She’d always been the most beautiful girl in the world, ever since he’d first seen her picture. That had been long before he’d ever somehow become lucky enough to see her smiling in his direction, and it only felt more true now. Especially now. Especially- -she moved again, shifting in and up to him, and she put her lips to his, and she kissed him. As soft as her drifting fingers had been, at least to start, but that didn’t seem to make any difference to his senses. It was electric - his own lips had begun to part even before he’d registered more than that, and his thumb pressed a little more securely on her hipbone, while he moved his other hand upward, brushing upward along the line of her spine. She kissed him harder. So did Nezhno, shifting his head a little to the side, to make it easier to take his time, savoring every last second this dream would give him of the feel of her lips and her body. Shifting his hand to bring his palm flat against her hip,along the curve of her thigh. The slight swells of her breasts pressing against his bare chest through whatever it was that she was wearing (it didn’t matter at all what it was), and the warm, gentle touch of her hand on his neck. The most beautiful girl in the world, kissing him. He never wanted to wake up again. |
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| Kitty Pryde | Feb 20 2015, 04:51 PM Post #5 |
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Unphased
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Beautiful. The tattoos - intricate, silvery patterns flowing over smooth, dark skin - they were beautiful. So was Nezh. She'd tried not to notice that, Kitty admitted as she traced the swirling, winding patterns with her fingertip. It hadn't worked. She couldn't help but notice, like she was noticing now. “You’re beautiful,” his voice told her and she lifted her eyes again. Up to his face. The words hanging in the air like something she could touch. Like something soft and warm that melted into her skin and settled in her chest. Moving up, just a little more, she kissed him. A light, tentative press of her lips to his. Expecting... What? Something...something that didn't happen and she relaxed. All of her relaxed. There was only her and Nezh. The light pressure of his hand against her hip. The length of his body under hers. The trail his other hand was drawing up the middle of her back. Her lips moving apart against his. Less tentative. Deeper. But slow, like she could get lost in just that. She could get lost in just that, she thought. Kissing him, as her hand slipped to the back of his neck and he turned his head. Kitty tilted her head a little more, decided she liked that. Let herself sink down into it because she could, and she wanted to, and it was so easy. A little breathless, but in a nice way. A good way. A way that made her want to be closer instead of pulling away. So she moved again a little, bending her leg more. Or trying to as his palm moved over her hip, her thigh. It didn't work very well and she realized foggily that she was tangled in the covers again. Or still. The blanket catching on her shoes. Why was she even still wearing those? Only thinking of kissing him, the way his body pressed against hers - long and lean and warm - it took a second, and not really any thought at all, to get the shoes out of the way. Something she did every day, with something or other. Usually nothing else went along for the ride, but this time she guessed her jeans had, too. Huh. Mentally shrugging it away, she let it drift right back out of her head again almost as fast. She didn't care and she just wanted to keep kissing Nezh. Just keep kissing him, that's all she wanted right now, as her fingers stroked over the back of his neck. Out again along one shoulder as she rearranged herself again. Tentatively with that, too. Just a little. An experiment that made her feel like there were sparks dancing on her skin, moving through her stomach and her chest. Nezh, kissing her, his hands on her skin and nothing but...wanting that. Really wanting that. |
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| Gentle | Feb 24 2015, 09:02 PM Post #6 |
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Who doesn't like Black Russians?
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This was what he’d wanted. It was something he’d tried very hard not to think about. Not just this week, though it had been even more necessary to try not to think about it this week, since Kitty Pryde had appeared back from the dead and (against all probability, or expectation, or anything Nezhno might have imagined except wild hope) slid into his life and neatly as she phased through walls and doors; from nothing to real and solid in the center of everything in the metaphorical blink of an eye. But Kitty Pryde, or at rather the idea of Kitty Pryde, the beautiful smiling girl who’d seemed to have the most interesting life in the world, but still managed to appear like she was a normal person… she’d always been that. What he wanted, whether he tried to pretend it wasn’t there or not. She was… Kitty Pryde. And in this dream, she was warm and real, and she was pressed against him. Kissing him, with soft lips and a sweet, dancing pressure. He was kissing her, and he could touch her, and she moved against him - or possibly against the sheets - and suddenly it wasn’t her jeans, but warm skin at her hip that his hand was touching. Warm, soft skin, impossible not to touch. Suddenly, she didn’t have pants, but that was easy to accept in a dream, not to mention unimportant beside the way she felt right now. She was touching him. Kissing him. Making what had to be an insane proportion of all the blood in his body pool somewhere around the level of his waist, because of her lips, and her body, and the hand at his neck. She felt- she tasted… …of something that was an awful lot like beer. It was maybe a small thing, in the vast scheme of things, except that it was a big thing. That had never been any part of the way he’d dreamed of Kitty Pryde. For a few seconds, Nezhno’s body kept kissing her, touching her, ignoring the slow-stirring messages about holding up and waiting that were starting to come from his brain. Defying them, maybe, and shifting his palm down her naked thigh, drawing her closer. But it wasn’t enough - those seconds built up, and the increasingly insistent messages from his mind weren’t going away. He stopped, gently pulling away, and trying to move his head back till he could see her properly. “This isn’t a dream, is it?” he asked, quietly, pretty sure he already knew the answer. And wishing, even though it went against everything he’d ever imagined wanting, that he was wrong about what he suspected. |
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| Kitty Pryde | Feb 26 2015, 10:00 PM Post #7 |
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Unphased
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Better. That felt better, even if it hadn't been on purpose and she couldn't quite figure out how her jeans had got involved in getting rid of her shoes. That didn't usually happen, but nothing else seemed to be missing and, well, she wasn't exactly sure she'd have minded if it had been. Actually, part of her liked that idea. Liked it a lot and... No, more than just part of her, Kitty realized, as warm, gentle fingers drifted over her skin. All of her liked that idea and, for once, there wasn't that...thing that she called 'normal' now that made something in her stomach clench and tense - a little queasy, a little strained - that always, always... Happened. Something...uneasy. A feeling that wasn't there now but that had been for so long that it being not there almost felt strange. But in a good way. A way that meant she could breathe and a way that was warm and filled with what felt like tiny sparks that took the spot where that other feeling used to be. Easy. Still easy and good and...and it was Nezh and...yeah, she'd thought about this. Even when she knew she shouldn't. Kissing him, being close to him. Touching him, the way she was now, hand running lightly over his bare shoulder, down to his chest. Slowly, still a little tentatively, but sliding against him, pressing in closer. A little flutter of something in her stomach that was anything but uneasy. Nothing even close to uncomfortable. Then...he pulled back? It took her head a couple of seconds to catch up. Things still felt fuzzy and her thoughts felt a little thick, like they were made of cotton and somebody'd stuffed them into her head that way. Blinking, she opened her eyes and peered down at him. Or squinted at him. Really needed to figure out where she'd lost her contacts. “This isn’t a dream, is it?” he asked and she blinked again, tried to get that to make sense and completely failed, then moved from blinking to a confused frown. "Huh?" she said dumbly. "I...don't think so?" Kitty guessed, even if she wasn't entirely sure now that she actually stopped to think about it. Uggh. Her head really was full've cotton. She should know the answer to this. She did know the answer to this. She'd been in the bar lounge thing, and then she'd gone up to the main deck for a while, to finish her beer, and then she'd...gone into a closet or something. Then, she'd come in here. So, no, pretty sure this wasn't a dream. Why did Nezh think- "Wait, you...thought this was a dream?" she asked, managing a little clarity. Which she kinda wished she didn't have about the time she got it. Oh god. Nezh...Nezh had thought he was dreaming? Oh. Oh...crap. Eyes going wider than they had been as that sank in, her stomach started churning around for a whole other reason all together. |
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| Gentle | Mar 5 2015, 09:51 PM Post #8 |
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Who doesn't like Black Russians?
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It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Well, that wasn’t really right - it wasn’t supposed to be like anything, because he’d always known it wasn’t ever going to happen. But he’d… well, he had dreamt about it even so, and in that dream, if Kitty Pryde had come to his bed, she wouldn’t be so drunk that she still tasted of beer. But she did. And so - reluctantly, resisting the thoughts that tried to point this fact out to him - Nezhno had to admit that this couldn’t be a dream. He pulled back, in spite of the urge to keep kissing her, trying to get to a place where he could see her face. Maybe that was a mistake though. Once he could see her, blinking owlishly, with her hair tousled around her face like that, it was even harder not to just tell his thoughts to go away. She was so beautiful… …but she also looked confused, like she was only half-aware of what was happening, and that was the last thing he’d want for her. With her. So Nezhno didn’t let himself forget, instead making himself ask that question out loud. It wasn’t a dream, was it? There was more blinking. And a frown - a genuinely puzzled one, that made her look nothing like the brilliant person he’d been working with in the lab these last days. “Huh?” she said dumbly. "I...don't think so?" Gods. She was - she really was drunk, wasn’t she? How… or maybe why… had that happened? Nezhno wanted to ask, but his hands still hadn’t quite got the whole of the message to stop from his brain, and by the time he’d finished losing a battle with himself to try to make the one that was resting at her hip stop touching her warm, bare skin, the moment to ask her had come and gone and she was speaking again. “Wait, you...thought this was a dream?" she asked. Sounding surer in her speech, but that turned out not to be very comforting either, because she also didn’t sound happy to hear that. Nezhno shifted a little on his back, feeling the mattress through his shoulderblades like they were maybe trying to dig through it. Maybe- no, but he had to be honest. How else could he be? “Well… yes,” he said, slowly, trying to watch Kitty’s face in the dim half-light, “Because you’re here. With me.” What else could he have thought? She had a boyfriend. More importantly, she was Kitty Pryde; she wouldn’t be here, with him. As a dream, it had made sense. Or at least it hadn’t mattered that it didn’t, and wouldn’t, so now… it was very confusing. “Umm…” Nezhno started again, but didn’t get further than that before realizing he had no idea at all what to say. Confused. And not comfortable, whatever his hands might still be trying to tell him, because he didn’t understand, and she was almost certainly very drunk, and… maybe not looking very well, either? “…are you okay?” he asked, brow creasing slightly as he looked up at her. |
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| Kitty Pryde | Mar 6 2015, 08:15 PM Post #9 |
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Unphased
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A dream? What-? Why would he think this was a dream? Was this a dream? God. Okay. She...uggh. Thinking. Hard. There was a necessary, but probably really stupid, pause that had to happen for the space of a few seconds while Kitty frowned and tried to sort that out. Hopefully into something that made sense, but her brain wasn't working at the speed it normally did and all the brunete could do at first was blink at Nehzno and try to remember how she'd got from the lounge somebody (maybe the Avengers? that kind of sounded right) had converted into a bar in the last few days to here. In Nezhno's room. Where she'd come after the closet and she'd gone to the closet (??) from the hall and to there from the main deck and... Okay, no. No she didn't think this was a dream. In fact, the warm palm pressed against her skin near her hip was definitely not something she was dreaming, or he was dreaming. Neither was the long, solid body under hers, and she'd have liked - really, really liked - to go back to thinking about that now. And back on kissing him again instead of trying to think through the skull full of cotton somebody'd shoved into her head (maybe the Logan) when she wasn't looking. She just wanted to kiss him. And not think, because she didn't need to for once and... God. Wait. Wait. He thought this was a dream? Nezh...thought this was a dream? The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach wasn't just the way that realization finally settled clearly into her head. It was way too real as her eyes went wide and her insides churned ominously. Crap. Oh crap. Nezh shifted and that didn't help. Not her stomach and not the sudden temptation to tell him it was a dream and see if he'd believe it. Too bad she couldn't quite convince herself to give it a try, and phasing and running was out, too. She couldn't bring herself to do that, either. “Well… yes,” he said, slowly, looking up at her in the mostly dark room as some part of her head tried to point out that she should probably move. It didn't get very far with that. “Because you’re here. With me.” "I-" she started to...explain? Maybe? Yeah. Okay, she could see how (mostly) that might be confusing. He hadn't spent the last...however long that had been listening to her overshare her life over too much beer. Maybe...maybe if she stopped and managed to actually think she could figure out what to tell him. That she was here because this was the place she wanted to be, with him, without sounding completely ridiculous. Then her stomach lurched again and she clamped her mouth closed before she could even come close to figuring out how to do that. “Umm…” Nezhno started again definitely confused. It didn't require a fully functional brain to see that and, god, he'd thought it was all a dream and she'd just- “…are you okay?” he asked and...no. No she definitely wasn't okay. Not in any way okay, because this wasn't...she didn't...god, he had to think she was nuts. Some crazy girl who'd phased into his room in the middle of the night, drunk, and...and stupid. God, she was so stupid. "I'm-" Kitty managed to push out, teeth pulling at her lower lip as she looked down at him. "God, Nezh, I'm really sorry," she managed, shaking her head, and that - moving, breathing, thinking, whatever - was a huge mistake that she figured out a little bit too late. Her stomach did another slow, sick turn as her eyes widened before it went into full on rebellion. She moved then. Fast and rolling off him and then the edge of the bed. Hitting her feet at a run and making a dash for the bathroom, had clamped over her mouth. Phasing through walls and furniture and anything else in her way. Hitting her knees on the cool tile in front of the toilet, she still barely made it before what felt like way too much of the beer she'd drank made a reappearance. Maybe all of it and maybe some she'd had last year (or whenever the hell it was in her terminally messed up timeline) at Christmas, too, for good measure. God. She was an idiot. A stupid, sick, idiot. |
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| Gentle | Mar 10 2015, 11:34 PM Post #10 |
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Who doesn't like Black Russians?
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Yes… he’d thought it was a dream. How could he really have thought otherwise? Things like this didn’t happen to him. In point of fact, as a rather pedantic voice in Nezhno’s slightly reeling brain noted, something like this had happened to him before. Which… was true. Mostly. But that had been T’dori, who was- had been- a lot of things, but wasn’t Kitty Pryde. Kitty Pryde was… well, she wouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be here, not in a sense of ought or anything like that, but just in a sense of it being something that was simply beyond all probability of things that could happen in the world. Trying to inarticulately tell her that didn’t really seem to help anyone though. “I-“ she started, looking troubled, and maybe uncertain (it was hard to tell in the not-quite light the room afforded). Then she shut her mouth tightly, as if… Nezhno tried to follow that thought out, but couldn’t quite make it. As if she’d realized she didn’t know why she’d possibly be here either, drunk or otherwise? As if she’d nearly said something that she knew she (or he) would regret if she did? As if… …oh. Um. She… maybe didn’t look very good now. In the sense that she didn’t look like she was feeling very good. And. Um. Was she okay? It was probably a stupid question, for… well, a lot of reasons. But he’d asked it anyway, then felt awkward and, yes, stupid, watching her face change even further toward ‘definitely not okay’ after he had. ”I’m-“ she started again, gnawing on her lip as she looked at him. Then, “God, Nezh, I'm really sorry,” with a shake of her head, and that surprised Gentle so much that he’d only barely started to blink away the confusion and begin shaking his own head when he saw her eyes widen. Just after that, she darted away, from a warm, solid weight on his… lap- to a ghost girl slipping through the bed and the sheets and the rest of the room in the space of heartbeats. A lot of heartbeats. That should probably be pointed out, because Nezhno’s heart was definitely pounding quite a lot as he pushed himself up just quickly enough to see Kitty disappearing through the half-open bathroom door. She… …ohhh. Pulling the sheets off as quickly as he could - which wasn’t as quickly as he would have liked - Nezhno half-climbed, half-rolled out of the bed himself, and was on his feet and a step or so the way across the room when he heard the sounds of retching and a slightly unbelievable amount of sloshing liquid. Presumably whatever it was that she’d drunk- oh dear. He sped up, hesitating only very momentarily at the door to the bathroom. But he could just see Kitty there, on her knees in front of the toilet, and that was enough to kill any last wavering maybes that Nezhno might have had. He stepped in quickly, trying to do his best not to do anything that would startle her, then knelt down beside her, one hand going to rest lightly on her shoulder to let her know she was there. She was bent over, and that… that probably couldn’t be good, the way her hair was threatening to fall forward by her face, could it? “Hey…” Nezhno said, awkward and stupid as it sounded in his ears, and “Um…”, as he lifted his other hand to her neck, trying to gather that hair back for her as gently as he could, to keep it out of the way in case she needed to vomit again. “Hey,” he repeated softly. Soothingly, hopefully. “It’s okay.” It would be, anyway. Even if it probably didn’t feel like it right now, because there probably wasn’t any circumstance in any universe where being on your knees staring at a porcelain toilet bowl could feel like anything was okay. Still, it… yeah. Okay. |
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| Kitty Pryde | Mar 11 2015, 04:17 PM Post #11 |
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Unphased
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God. Great. This was just great. Her stomach gave another heave and Kitty was pretty sure that now she was accessing some other dimension to throw up beer from there. Because she was positive there was no way that much beer could have existed in that one six pack. No, five pack, because Logan had stole one and that somehow made this all even worse and...god, not thinking about that, either. Or what her Logan would be saying if he was here right now. To see what a mess she'd managed to make of pretty much everything. So, sure. Why not add some extra 'drunk and stupid' to that, too? The answer to that was...crap, this. This kind of stupid. Phasing into Nezh's room, drunk (but not drunk enough to not actually care, now) and...god. He'd thought he was dreaming and she was a complete and total idiot. Possibly a stalker. A drunk, stalker, idiot. And then she'd left him blinking and confused to run off and get sick in his bathroom. He was right there, wasn't he? She couldn't even manage to be drunk enough, or sick enough, not to notice that, could she? No, she heard him coming across the room, even now, knew he'd stopped at the door. Kept her head down - not completely out of necessity but at least partly that - not looking at him, and hoped...hoped he'd just turn around. Really gave some serious thought to phasing through the floor this time, but didn't so much wanna find out what happened when you combined phasing with this. And she wasn't fifteen this time. No one had to tell her that would just be one more stupid thing to add to the list. Her stomach rolled again but she ignored it by force of will, clutching the edge of the toilet with one hand. Of course Nezh didn't turn around. Kitty couldn't figure out if that was good or bad as he came closer instead. Knelt down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder as her face went bright red and she gave some serious thought to the possibility of drowning herself in the toilet bowl. “Hey…” Nezhno said, awkwardly, but that wasn't exactly a surprise. She couldn't manage to look at him, or answer him, so instead she lifted the hand not hanging onto the toile to keep her from falling over and fumbled until she found the handle to flush the toilet. “Um…”, and he was...what was he doing? Pulling her hair back, out of the way, she realized, and that made more than her face burn and she closed her eyes tight for a second. That made the room spin a little again for some reason but she didn't care. “Hey,” he repeated softly, instead of telling her what a complete idiot she was, like he probably should've. But Nezh, he was too nice for that. Somehow, that made her feel almost worse. Guilty and embarrassed and...uggh. “It’s okay.” Finally convincing her head to turn, even if she couldn't quite meet his eyes, Kitty felt her face heat up all over again. "I'm an idiot," she told him, voice a little hoarse, in case he hadn't figured that out for himself for some reason. Like shock at being woke up in the middle of the night by a random girl in his bed that he wasn't expecting. "A complete and total idiot and I-" And that was as far as she got before she had to whip her head around and let her stomach help her brain (her still fuzzy but unfortunately still way too coherent brain) tell her again just how much of a complete idiot she was. God. Had she ever been this stupidly embarrassed in her life? |
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| Gentle | Mar 17 2015, 09:27 PM Post #12 |
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Who doesn't like Black Russians?
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Kitty didn’t look around, and on top of that, her face was really pretty red now, the color showing up strongly against her pale skin after Nezhno had waved his hand over the panel next to the door. He paused there, but only for a moment, after seeing how she looked, and adding that to where she was and the sound of retching he’d just heard. She had to be pretty unwell. She was pretty unwell, in fact, and he couldn’t just stand there and leave her to try to cope with that all alone. That thought in mind, the Wakandan hurried over, crouching down beside her, and did what he could to try to help her. It wasn’t as much as he would have liked - one hand on her shoulder, another to gather her hair back and hold it away from her face, and some words that probably weren’t going to be any help at all, but were the only ones he could come up with. Monosyllables, mostly. And telling her that it was okay. Or maybe that it would be. She did kind of look around then, her cheeks flushed pink in the fluorescent light. Not quite at him, but enough to know that she wasn’t too sick to move, or too horrified by him to completely ignore him, or anything like that. “I’m an idiot," she told him, which was the last thing from true, but maybe - from where she was kneeling, at least - didn’t feel that way. She didn’t sound very good, but then after what she’d very obviously just been doing over the toilet bowl, that was probably only what ought to be expected. “A complete and total idiot and I-“ - got caught out in the middle of that, twisting her head away, back toward the bowl, heaving more of whatever was in her stomach up. Nezhno tried not to look too closely at that - mostly for her sake, because he had a feeling that no one wanted to be observed while they were vomiting, even with concern - and focused on making sure he’d got all of her hair well out of the way of getting in the road of that. “I don’t think so,” he said quietly, once the worst of it seemed to be over. Hopefully that did sound truthful, because it really was the truth. “I mean, I guess you might have had a lot to drink,” he did add, because he had picked up on that, “and probably that might not be the smartest thing ever.” But people did that - a lot of people did that sometimes, and if Kitty Pryde was one of them, that didn’t mean she had to feel like she’d sounded like she was feeling about it. “But you’re the last thing in the world from an idiot,” Nezhno told her, with complete honesty, kind of squeezing her shoulder very lightly to try to reinforce that. “Really.” She was brilliant, and brave, and kind and funny, and a lot of other good things, not one of which was an idiot. Maybe she’d drunk more than she should have, or… …oh gods. Or maybe it was worse than that. “You did get the Healers to check that hit on your head, right?” the Wakandan asked a moment later, voice edging up a notch or two in concern. Paranoid concern, maybe, but… nausea could be a symptom of things that weren’t good, couldn’t it? And she had sounded really determined that she could put that visit off, the last time he’d seen her. |
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| Kitty Pryde | Mar 18 2015, 07:27 PM Post #13 |
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Unphased
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The light came on and that...uggh. No cover, now. Just her. Right here. In all her complete stupid and her red face and this whole mess. In probably technicolor with no shadow or anything to hide behind. Except the hair that was hang down over her face, but then there wasn't even that, because Nezh was pulling it back out of the way, hand on her shoulder. Being nice, because he was nice, when he should probably be yelling at her about what an idiot she was. For... Yeah, god, basically assaulting him in his room. While he was asleep. And she was drunk. And stupid. Had she mentioned stupid yet? And definitely drunk, she reiterated as she tried to keep her stomach in line. But not drunk enough to keep her face from glowing in the dark because she was too drunk to care and now she couldn't even manage to look at Nezh properly when she turned her head toward him to tell him exactly how much of an idiot she was. A complete and total idiot and- God. There she went again, stomach in full revolt and blearily considering the fact that she apparently hadn't learned anything since she was fifteen years old. Nothing and, god, even Ororo would yell at her for this. Even Peter would yell at her for this. Nezh barely knew her and she didn't want to just totally trash even being his friend over stupid, drunken...stupid (it was a good word right now, and an easy one to come up with, okay??) and... “I don’t think so,” he said quietly, when she was done with that round of retching up stuff she couldn't have possibly have drank tonight and that seemed to be coming from some other dimension right now to join the barf-fest. “I mean, I guess you might have had a lot to drink,” and she let out a surprised something that was kinda between a choked laugh and a snort and that nearly had her stomach going into mutiny again, “and probably that might not be the smartest thing ever.” Yeah, no kidding. 'It seemed like a good idea at the time' didn't really cut it right now and...he didn't need the oversharing details of why, too. “But you’re the last thing in the world from an idiot,” Nezhno told her, with complete honesty, kind of squeezing her shoulder very lightly to try to reinforce that and making her close her eyes tight against that sudden burning behind them again in the process. “Really.” He was really, really nice and she knew that already but he really was. Nezh was just a nice, kind person and maybe that shouldn't have made her feel extra bad about this crap. Or maybe it actually should. Either way, it did, but dammit she was not gonna turn into weepy, drunk Kitty in the middle of his bathroom floor and make it even worse. Which you kinda wouldn't think was possible, but she was pretty sure she could manage anyway if she wasn't careful. "Well, I feel like an idiot," she countered, sounding muffled and hoarse to her own ears. Uggh. God. So much like an idiot. “You did get the Healers to check that hit on your head, right?” Nezh asked, as she was fighting another probably losing battle with her stomach. Huh? Her what? Her head? Oh! Oh! From the Morgue and the Zombies and okay. Yeah. Her head. "Uh..." she started, caught between thinking and the great stomach battle and the room still wanting to tilt a little when she moved her head. "Yeah," Kitty managed, started to nod, decided that was a horrible idea right now, then just slowly turned her head a little toward him again. Still not really looking him in the face. "Yeah. I went up and talked to Healer. It was a...uh...mild concussion. He fixed it. It's fine now." Maybe Nezh really did think she was an idiot and was just too nice to agree with her. Too bad Healer hadn't been able to fix the case of idiot she still obviously had. It would've saved them both from...this. |
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| Gentle | Mar 26 2015, 10:50 PM Post #14 |
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Who doesn't like Black Russians?
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No, she… Kitty Pryde wasn’t an idiot. She was the furthest thing from an idiot that he knew, in fact. That he’d ever known. Maybe- maybe she felt like that right now, like she’d just said, but… he really didn’t think so. She might have had a lot to drink. And she… might have got confused and done - tried to do - things he was sure he knew she’d never have even considered doing while sober, but those he wasn’t even going to mention right now. She might have had a lot to drink, yes. But she wasn’t an idiot. At all. Ever. Really. He tried to tell her that, but not very well, apparently, because she kind of dodged that, squeezing her eyes closed and not looking at him at all. “Well, I feel like an idiot," she countered/ “I think that probably comes along with vomiting,” Nezhno offered. Because that was how he’d always felt when it happened (not with alcohol, of course, but… just generally), and now that he came to think of it, it might have explained a lot about how people were when they were vomiting. Or wanting to vomit. That seemed rational… maybe. Only he would have thought that Kitty might have seen that for herself, and… …oh gods. She’d been hit on the head though. Earlier this evening. And she’d been so determined that she didn’t have to get the Healers to see her, and arguing (in looks, if not quite in words) with the Maker, over that. What if it wasn’t actually beer? What if… she had gotten the Healers to check her head after that hit, hadn’t she? “Uh…” she started, which wasn’t really very heartening, even as far as partial monosyllabic answers went. Especially not when accompanied by a slightly blank look, though that did clear quickly enough that Nezhno stopped at least part of his worry for her. ”Yeah,” Kitty managed, and even got what might have been part way through a nod before stopping dead and maybe thinking better of that motion. Okay… that was… not good. But better than it might have been, right? “Yeah. I went up and talked to Healer. It was a...uh...mild concussion. He fixed it. It's fine now.” Of course, she’d been saying it was fine back in the Morgue, too. He remembered that pretty clearly, because he hadn’t really liked it (or known what to do about it) then, either. But despite the words being nearly exactly the same as they had been then, Nezhno did think he believed her now. She must have gone. Plus he couldn’t imagine the Maker letting her miss that, so… yes. She must have. “Okay,” he said, hopefully with some reassurance, nodding semi-thoughtfully to himself.“So it’s… probably just vomiting.” Which was probably quite an uninspiring thing to hear now, under the circumstances. Gods, why couldn’t he have been someone who knew how to say the right words that might help people feel better? He wasn’t though, as he probably proved with the next thought that came out of his mouth because he actually couldn’t think of anything else to say. “It wouldn’t really work as a survival tool if it made you feel good about yourself, right?” Vomiting, that was. If it didn’t make you feel like… well, a ‘complete idiot’, to use Kitty’s own phrase… how would there be any impetus to learn to avoid the things that had caused it? |
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| Kitty Pryde | Mar 27 2015, 11:00 PM Post #15 |
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Unphased
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Okay maybe she wasn't, in a strictly technical sense, an idiot. It didn't keep her from feeling like one. One that still sorta halfway wanted to phase through the floor, make a run for it, and try to pretend none of this ever happened. “I think that probably comes along with vomiting,” Nezhno offered and, yep, just another part of the idiocy. The stupid, drunken idiocy. Kitty made a face down at the toilet bowl and immediately decided that was a horrible idea, too. And, oh god, he really did think she was an idiot, didn't he? Nezh was just too nice to say it, but he had to if he thought she'd completely skipped out on having her head looked at. Of course, a little more brain activity and a little less fighting with her stomach to keep it from embarrassing her even more (if that was even possible now) would've maybe helped her at least give some kind of at least semi-articulate answer. One without all the 'Uh'-ing and pausing to try to think and sounding like she had no clue what he was talking about and hoping she wasn't gonna throw up on him while she was busy not being able to look him in the face. She really might drown herself in the toilet then. Jessica Cage had said something about that, too, hadn't she? Not drowning in the toilet, but something about being able to find someone they wouldn't mind not being able to look at the next morning or...something? Uggh, why couldn't she remember ? Not that it mattered, because she wasn't sure she'd be able to look Nezh in the face ever again after-after- God. Idiot. Such an idiot. Could she even say that enough? No, no she couldn't and she'd probably completely ruined...well, everything. No matter how nice and really sweet Nezh was. Maybe it would've been easier if she hadn't had it looked at. Then she'd at least have had something to blame this on other than too much beer and life overshare with people who were basically strangers and complete stupidity. And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be in Nezhno's bathroom, puking her guts out after invading his room and doing things Ororo and T'Challa would probably strangle her for. No such luck, though, because she'd gone to the Infirmary and she'd talked to Healer and he'd taken care of the mild concussion she'd had. It was fine now. Too bad nothing else seemed to be. “Okay,” he said, with a nod and something that sounded like...relief? Reassurance? She wasn't sure, so she just kept staring mostly at the floor and one of his shoulders as she nodded and tried to will her stomach to stop doing that slow rolling thing that didn't seem like it could possibly be a good sign. “So it’s… probably just vomiting.” "Yeah, probably," she agreed, trying to make that sound mostly normal but not really knowing what else to say. She should get out of here and go...well, she didn't know where, but where he wouldn't have to keep dealing with her. "Actually, it's probably those...five? I think it was five - extra large beers that I had." Or was it six? No, the Logan stole one didn't he? “It wouldn’t really work as a survival tool if it made you feel good about yourself, right?” Nezhno said next and her brows knit together a little. He...probably had a point, actually. Kitty thought about that, probably longer than she'd have usually needed to. Great. Biology was telling her she was an idiot, too. It was consensus. Awesome. She could feel her face heating up again, or maybe she was too hot. She felt too warm and her stomach was still rolling around dangerously and her head felt like it wasn't quite hers (or maybe it just felt like she didn't want it to be), but she managed the ghost of a wry smile all the same. Even if she still couldn't look him in the face. "Probably not," she conceded, with a lift of her shoulders. "It's definitely working." She felt about as far from good about herself as she could manage. There was a tightness in her throat and chest that she swallowed down, or tried to. "Not exactly the greatest time for a surprise first hand demonstration of biological survival mechanisms, either." And now he was stuck in here, in the middle of the night, with her, because he was too nice to make her deal with it on her own. Not exactly the memory she wanted popping into Nezh head when he thought of her. Though after this, he'd probably rather not think of her at all and god knew she couldn't blame him. |
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3:32 AM Jul 11