Don't misunderstand me. [ coolly, she speaks, the warmth of the bath not lost on her. sensation is a curious thing— her body is slick with water and that, too, has a certain feeling to it. warm, comforting, alien... she does this purely for pleasure. she is not like him, she does not do it for any other reason. ] I'm well aware of that. Two people entwined in a sexual relationship need not beat around the bush. They're already aware of the intricacies of each other's bodies.
[ she reaches out to touch him. the tips of her fingers grace his chest. her palm flattens against his chest.
it's gentle, and hot in a different way. her skin lacks human warmth, but the machine is hot with electricity all the same. there is a melancholic swell to her face, a sweet looking sort of sadness that you could write poems about. ]
We are aware of each other's bodily intricacies in a different way... Roland.
[ he has a heartbeat. nude as she is, she processes his humanity more than the nudity. ]
...However. [ she cannot deny it much longer. a smirk curls it's way across her lips. ] Seeing you slosh around childishly has it's benefits.
... [ in this quietude, he lets her speak -- lets her set her palm to his chest. the heart it's caged beats beneath the synthetic skin of her hand. he can hear it in his ears through the deafening silence of his own mind.
sometimes, he wonders if she understands that magnitude of her words; angela is no idiot, for as naive as she may be. but he likes to think that she doesn't know -- that she doesn't mean it that way. it's easier. makes it ruminate in his mind for a minute less.
but it doesn't change the truth. it never will. and even if that truth will forever remain unspoken, he has made his own peace with it. roland's eyes flutter shut. ] If you wanted to see me make an ass of myself in the nude, you should've told me. I would've posed for you-- [ one eye squints open, the corner of his mouth slanting downwards. ] That was a joke, by the way, I'm not doing that...
[ when his arm suddenly raises, it sends a rift through the water, splashing against his skin as it travels across the bath. carefully, the palm of his hand meets the crevice between her breasts and sits there -- feeling for a mechanical heartbeat, the hum and whirr of a machine.
what is within does not beat, but he feels it all the same. ]
Does it surprise you? It shouldn't. [ it could be an unkind quip, but he should know her. when her hand falls from his bare chest to disappear beneath the surface of the water, it comes with a sigh. there isn't a hint of grief in her monotonous tone, though perhaps it would be more than understanding if there was. ]
I won't bog you down with the details of it all, but you are familiar with the story by now. [ her creation was a scientific benchmark born of grief. she's the corpse crawled out of the coffin, the undead born again. ]
It would be uncommon for an employer and employee to touch like this. Perhaps you should pose.
[ there is an angle of curiosity there. what does roland look like when he's bathing? surely this isn't all of it. ]
It’s more that I’ve never felt skin this soft before. [ a cursory tilt of the head. his eyes are kind when he speaks. ] It’s not like we were well stocked on moisturizer in the City.
[ he pulls his hand away, allowing it to flow back into the water. roland’s back slides against the tiling again. ]
It’s nice. Like petting a reaaaaal fuzzy cat. [ and without much further ado, his fingers pull at one of the rags draped on the ledge before scrubbing it against his cheek. ] Yeah right. You owe me a raise first. And besides, I thought we were past that stage of our relationship, Ang.
[ are you running away from something? is what he means to ask. ]
[ her response is quick. unsurprising, really, with how agonizingly long something as an average as a conversation can seem to her. ]
We lacked in such resources ourselves.
[ it's an unnatural softness. she knows. she is unnatural; inhuman. ]
If we weren't before, we would be now. Still, it would disperse the energy you have created in the room today. [ he's doing the posing she wants, anyway. with great interest, she watches him, then copies him. under the rag, her skin feels like jelly. ]
[ a snort. ] So this was your plan to solidify our friendship? And here I was, thinking that getting my ass kicked by the Head did that.
[ it’s said light heartedly. from the corner of his eye, he notes the mimicry, how she follows his lead like a young hatchling. the rag sweeps behind his neck and ears before he vigorously wipes across his arms. ]
Not feeling it? [ he tosses a bar of soap in her direction. ] Try this.
[ she responds in kind, a playful smirk lightening her expression. ] That? Such an act came with the job description. [ she catches the soap.
...in truth, however, there's something of a curse to processing time like this. everything slows down even further as she watches herself fumble the catch. it slips between her fingers, shoots into the air. angela catches the bar again, frustration peeking out of her expression as her lips turn downward and her brows furrow. it's a strange thing. again, it slips from her grip, but this time it goes rocketing up overhead and onto the floor, where it skids towards the closed door.
[ just shut your brain off, roland. he pushes himself up out of the water by the elbows, sliding back onto the floor. as if he were a sopping, wet dog, he trudges towards the soap and picks it up in what is the most agonizing half crouch humanity has ever witnessed.
and then he splashes back into the bath — and firmly slaps the bar of soap into the palm of angela’s hand. ]
[ she stares at the bar of soap in her hands. while the moon was very full tonight, this is all she can focus on. somehow, the image of roland's asshole is of less importance to her right now.
In times of duress, stress, or exertion. [ she knows.
angela moves forward. shamelessly, she chest rises out of the water jut slightly to give way to the sight of her breasts. water runs down her body in long streaks, and steam rises from the bath. ]
I'll do it.
[ she tries to take the rag from him. yes, the one he's using. ]
Or when you're in a steaming bath that traps heat. [ she's being dramatic.
that is, until she rises without an ounce of reluctance -- roland's eyes dart to the side quickly, and he swallows down a cough, feeling the heat swelling in his face. his attention is pulled back to her in her attempt to wrench the rag out of his hands; he lets himself lose that fight easily. still isn't looking at her. ]
[ with the rag in hand, she begins to rub at his skin.
it's quite simple and too gentle for anything, as if she's still measuring out her own strength. a thoughtful expression follows the streal of suds left behind each stroke, and angela only looks upon his chest. ]
I can perspire, however, it is not the same as what you experience. [ a beat. ] In other words, I do not smell as you do.
[ he stiffens and flinches at her touch; it’s an involuntary response. his eyes are trained on the water, away from her. ]
Sorry. It’s been… a long time.
[ preparing himself with an exhale, roland’s shoulders relax and melt into her hands. it’s an embarrassing realization, really: he’s touch starved, no better than a dog searching for a trough. he can only barely meet her gaze at surface level, but he skirts a glance at her, as if signifying that he’s still engaged. ]
Angela. [ his eyes harden as he speaks. ] You don’t have to. I can take care of myself.
[ selfishly, she's doing this for herself. doesn't she always, though? ]
File them correctly if you have complaints. As for me, I am collecting information. [ then, blithely: ]
You have a wound here from being shot at. [ she continues. ] A healed scar on the back of your upper thigh. Someone tried to incapacitate you from behind. Is that it?
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croftmanor2022-06-11 10:53 pm
no subject
[ she reaches out to touch him. the tips of her fingers grace his chest. her palm flattens against his chest.
it's gentle, and hot in a different way. her skin lacks human warmth, but the machine is hot with electricity all the same. there is a melancholic swell to her face, a sweet looking sort of sadness that you could write poems about. ]
We are aware of each other's bodily intricacies in a different way... Roland.
[ he has a heartbeat. nude as she is, she processes his humanity more than the nudity. ]
...However. [ she cannot deny it much longer. a smirk curls it's way across her lips. ] Seeing you slosh around childishly has it's benefits.
no subject
sometimes, he wonders if she understands that magnitude of her words; angela is no idiot, for as naive as she may be. but he likes to think that she doesn't know -- that she doesn't mean it that way. it's easier. makes it ruminate in his mind for a minute less.
but it doesn't change the truth. it never will. and even if that truth will forever remain unspoken, he has made his own peace with it. roland's eyes flutter shut. ] If you wanted to see me make an ass of myself in the nude, you should've told me. I would've posed for you-- [ one eye squints open, the corner of his mouth slanting downwards. ] That was a joke, by the way, I'm not doing that...
[ when his arm suddenly raises, it sends a rift through the water, splashing against his skin as it travels across the bath. carefully, the palm of his hand meets the crevice between her breasts and sits there -- feeling for a mechanical heartbeat, the hum and whirr of a machine.
what is within does not beat, but he feels it all the same. ]
...Didn't realize your skin was this soft.
no subject
I won't bog you down with the details of it all, but you are familiar with the story by now. [ her creation was a scientific benchmark born of grief. she's the corpse crawled out of the coffin, the undead born again. ]
It would be uncommon for an employer and employee to touch like this. Perhaps you should pose.
[ there is an angle of curiosity there. what does roland look like when he's bathing? surely this isn't all of it. ]
no subject
[ he pulls his hand away, allowing it to flow back into the water. roland’s back slides against the tiling again. ]
It’s nice. Like petting a reaaaaal fuzzy cat. [ and without much further ado, his fingers pull at one of the rags draped on the ledge before scrubbing it against his cheek. ] Yeah right. You owe me a raise first. And besides, I thought we were past that stage of our relationship, Ang.
[ are you running away from something? is what he means to ask. ]
no subject
We lacked in such resources ourselves.
[ it's an unnatural softness. she knows. she is unnatural; inhuman. ]
If we weren't before, we would be now. Still, it would disperse the energy you have created in the room today. [ he's doing the posing she wants, anyway. with great interest, she watches him, then copies him. under the rag, her skin feels like jelly. ]
Strange...
no subject
[ it’s said light heartedly. from the corner of his eye, he notes the mimicry, how she follows his lead like a young hatchling. the rag sweeps behind his neck and ears before he vigorously wipes across his arms. ]
Not feeling it? [ he tosses a bar of soap in her direction. ] Try this.
no subject
...in truth, however, there's something of a curse to processing time like this. everything slows down even further as she watches herself fumble the catch. it slips between her fingers, shoots into the air. angela catches the bar again, frustration peeking out of her expression as her lips turn downward and her brows furrow. it's a strange thing. again, it slips from her grip, but this time it goes rocketing up overhead and onto the floor, where it skids towards the closed door.
she stares. ]
Go get it.
[ she already saw his ass. who cares. ]
no subject
Why me?
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[ just shut your brain off, roland. he pushes himself up out of the water by the elbows, sliding back onto the floor. as if he were a sopping, wet dog, he trudges towards the soap and picks it up in what is the most agonizing half crouch humanity has ever witnessed.
and then he splashes back into the bath — and firmly slaps the bar of soap into the palm of angela’s hand. ]
Here. Just rub it somewhere. Anywhere.
no subject
actually, what angela is thinking is: ]
We don't have towels?
[ or did he forget he could use one? ]
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Certainly, I've learned a lot. There was a great deal of data to collect, as I hoped.
no subject
[ back to washing it is. this time, he is scrubbing intently beneath his underarms. ]
The thing about humans is that they sweat… a lot.
no subject
angela moves forward. shamelessly, she chest rises out of the water jut slightly to give way to the sight of her breasts. water runs down her body in long streaks, and steam rises from the bath. ]
I'll do it.
[ she tries to take the rag from him. yes, the one he's using. ]
no subject
that is, until she rises without an ounce of reluctance -- roland's eyes dart to the side quickly, and he swallows down a cough, feeling the heat swelling in his face. his attention is pulled back to her in her attempt to wrench the rag out of his hands; he lets himself lose that fight easily. still isn't looking at her. ]
...Do what? What'd you need the rag for?
no subject
it's quite simple and too gentle for anything, as if she's still measuring out her own strength. a thoughtful expression follows the streal of suds left behind each stroke, and angela only looks upon his chest. ]
I can perspire, however, it is not the same as what you experience. [ a beat. ] In other words, I do not smell as you do.
no subject
Sorry. It’s been… a long time.
[ preparing himself with an exhale, roland’s shoulders relax and melt into her hands. it’s an embarrassing realization, really: he’s touch starved, no better than a dog searching for a trough. he can only barely meet her gaze at surface level, but he skirts a glance at her, as if signifying that he’s still engaged. ]
Angela. [ his eyes harden as he speaks. ] You don’t have to. I can take care of myself.
no subject
[ selfishly, she's doing this for herself. doesn't she always, though? ]
File them correctly if you have complaints. As for me, I am collecting information. [ then, blithely: ]
You have a wound here from being shot at. [ she continues. ] A healed scar on the back of your upper thigh. Someone tried to incapacitate you from behind. Is that it?