[ Warriorhead's movement is not particularly quick, but it's so unexpected that he finds no time to pull back before that hand clamps around his neck.
It doesn't hurt, Warriorhead is not poised to attack, but his heart rate still rises, hands reflexively closing around the offending arm. When he'd met Warriorhead in his rover, weeks ago, the thought had occured to him that he'd be a smear as soon as Warriorhead considered it a good idea, and now there are several outcomes to this exchange running through Noh-Varr's mind, none of them pleasant. But seconds pass and the sword doesn't drop, and just as his instructor isn't applying pressure, neither is Noh-Varr. The quick surge of panic eases as quickly as it came into a hyper-aware state. Warriorhead is arriving on the tail end of several difficult conversations he's had today, with people in various states of emotional upset, and equally varied capacity for dealing with it. And that question, while casual, forces him to think on all of them. 'Many noticed your loss', he said--Noh-Varr has noticed. Around his left temple are the yellowed remains of that morning's bruises, courtesy of Annie. That they have stayed this long means Noh-Varr wanted to keep them, maybe as a reminder to himself. He doesn't quite make the connection between Warrior's comment and the imposition, but he understands the important message: his instructor is displeased.
All the reasons that had led to that choice seem fleeting now. Just a few days ago he'd told Warriorhead that rationality and feelings went poorly together. Vriska is a cause of protectiveness in him: she reminds him of himself. And he'd let her bear the weight of his death, set her up to fail, and she had. For what? He'd hurt the closest friends he'd made here. Failed his team. For what he can see now was his own ego, fueled by emotion. He hasn't really learned anything since Oubliette, and that, above the rest, frustrates him.
Moments pass in silence before he is put down, gently. There will be no marks at his jaw in a manner of minutes, as he diverts nanites to the area. ]
Yes.
[ His voice is rough from being suspended, but loud enough, and unwavering. He's uncertain what response his answer will get him, but is willing to meet it. ]
You should try not to do things you will regret later.
[ The moments that had connected them (Warriorhead's fingers to Noh-Varr's throat, Noh-Varr's hand to Warriorhead's arm) were unquestionably illuminating. The spike of his heartbeat and the hitch of his lungs did not pass unnoticed, nor did the stillness that had clung to his recruit's form. Warriorhead would not call it submission, and he would not call it fear. Self-preservation, perhaps. He will need to speak to Mothership and tell her that her lesson was further reaching than anticipated. ]
Death is easy. Anyone can die. [ It should be noted that despite releasing his charge, Warriorhead does nothing to adjust their proximity. It is too close to be anything but familiar. Perhaps not close enough to be considered truly intimate. He considers both assessments to be a matter of perspective. ] The challenge is to live.
But I did not come here tonight to lecture or instruct.
[ The challenge is to live. Noh-Varr remembers thinking to himself about survival, when Vriska had asked him. What difference does it make to survive when the self is gone? He wants to live. He wonders if Warriorhead meant the distinction, or not.
Mutely, he nods. He doesn't move away from Warriorhead, but his state of alertness is slow to fade. ]
I understand. Why did you come? [ His tone, now that he's regained his composure, is curious, not accusatory. He'd ask if there's anything he can do for Warriorhead, but he's not in a volunteering mood. ]
For you. [ He has no doubt that Noh-Varr has faced far more emphatic pleas and criticisms this evening, and further, this is not a position he possesses significant experience in. Chastizing another was always an act act that had always been beneath him. Fallen to those who would trouble themselves with attempting to control that which refuses to be controlled. As this is the case, Warriorhead appears to readily disregard the heavy implications of their earlier conversation.
That which is done is done.
Instead, he lifts his hand between them. It is the same that had clasped the fragile column of his recruit's throat moments earlier, and is upturned between them- as some sort of visual offering perhaps. ]
And to place your impulses into my sensory network.
[ Noh-Varr considers being picked up by the throat enough of a chastisement for one day. He looks at Warriorhead's outstretched hand, not without wariness. ]
My impulses? How, and for what purpose?
[ He's obviously not inherently suspicious of the outstretched hand, because after a beat his uniform melts away from his fingers to form a neat sleeve at his wrist. He doesn't touch right away, cautious. His eyes slide between Warriorhead's hand, and his helmet, where his 'eyes' would be. Force of habit. ]
Your... [ The words trail off, a momentary consideration. So much can be lost in translation. He would not, ordinarily, trouble himself with accuracy- but Noh-Varr has demonstrated a consistent desire to not only learn, but to understand.
That his companion's gaze takes him in does not escape his attention, and Warriorhead does not bristle beneath the attention. He is no stranger to finding himself surveyed. Recruits are curious, some more than others, and their attention lands readily on that which is different. Unique from themselves. Perhaps Noh-Varr is attempting to identify potential threats, or collect clues to this shift in their interactions. It is not in his nature to presume, so he doesn't. ]
Life signs. I will know if they are ended, or under duress in the future.
[ He reflects on those words, the specific choice of them--that Warriorhead is going to be essentially operating an MRI scan via touch. The implication is, of course-- ]
Something like...this latest Blue mission. You would be made aware.
[ And presumably become capable of interfering, if he deemed it necessary. Noh-Varr is hesitant. That seems invasive. Between this and Ryan, that'll be two people who are aware of him at all times. ]
Is this significant to you? To the development of bonds.
I dislike surprises. [ It is as matter of fact as all else he has offered, and perhaps in the correct light, just as telling. Ordinarily Warriorhead would leave the explanation at that, but the situation itself bears consideration. Noh-Varr is not quite his illustrious self this evening, no doubt owed to what he expects was a number of emotionally charged conversations coupled with his memory of the act itself.
Or perhaps, Warriorhead himself has offended him. It is a thought-provoking possibility. ]
Would you prefer that I remain uninvolved in the future?
[ His yearning for independance wars with the request. He knows he's meant to accept it--the words don't exactly say that Warriorhead was upset, or at least displeased, by the news of his death, but they don't need to. Isha told him that Warriorhead hadn't been briefed. Warriorhead...cares about him, in his own, skewed way. Just because it wasn't in the same emotional way he had Garrus or Hinata didn't mean Noh-Varr had not caused harm. ]
No, I--[ it's rare that Noh-Varr stumbles over his words. He usually speaks with clarity of intention. But now he's torn between explaining, and not. He chooses. ] Your involvement is not the issue. I do not like feeling that I am being tracked. [ He uses the word 'track' in its hunting sense: he's spent a large part of the last few years being chased, followed, tagged and numbered. His every movement monitored. He doesn't want that here. ]
The term requires no small amount of rifling through his understanding of the english language- the connotations of the term as much as the definition. Warriorhead stands in silence for a long moment, apparently contemplative, and makes no effort to explain his silence. For the amount of conversation that as passed between them thus far, he considers it unnecessary.
He expects that Noh-Varr understands these things. Perhaps the same way that Noh-Varr might be sure that his stutter has not gone unnoticed.
Delicacy, then.
The CDC tracks all of them, and the crew of the Neheda maintains a modicum of awareness of its recruits- so to be tracked is to be alive. But such practices are tolerated, not enjoyed. Warriorhead regards Noh-Varr in this moment and wonders at his experiences thus far. At who, and what, has hunted him. And then without a word, he lifts one gloved hand towards his head.
It is difficult to say which fracture it is that splinters the air, because they occur at nearly the same time. Two narrow spears shoot through the tip of his glove and puncture through his helmet, as if both were made of paper. It is a matter of seconds before his hand lowers, and the holes in his helmet are twins to those at the base of his skull- just behind his ear. ]
[ The silence stretches as Warriorhead considers his words. He's used to language being a point of contention between them, sometimes even wonders how wide the gap between their understanding is. While he'd 'slept', a record player mysteriously found its way to him. Then Isha had presented him with cookies, and cocoa, and strange owl-shaped footie pyjamas. What does Noh-Varr know about owls? That they're silent hunters...with a very small brain. Today he'd been lifted by his throat, though whether or not he'd been meant to interpret that as a punishment or threat, he still isn't sure.
Warriorhead breaks the silence by moving--
Noh-Varr stifles a gasp. One hand jumps forward to stop the puncture, but Warriorhead is tremendously fast. For a moment his brain is alight with what can only be described as worry. He finds himself relaxing only after the vocal confirmation tells him Warriorhead is still well. Exhaling, he prevents himself from becoming annoyed. The display had a purpose, he tells himself. ]
[ If this display has hurt him in some way, if it leaves discomfort in its wake, Warriorhead provides no sign. He returns to his state of unnatural stillness, mere inches from his recruit. ]
You didn't want me to be so aware of you. I'm complying.
[ He needs to parse this, to make sense of it. He could ask, of course, and he would probably get an answer, but then he wouldn't be living up to himself. The first option is that Warriorhead's 'head', or at least what Noh-Varr sees of it, is a redundant organ, and punching through it would be a bit like Noh-Varr punching through his hand: painful, but easily ignored. Option two is that the armor does not, in fact, contain Warriorhead's body. He has no reason to believe this is true besides what he's just witnessed, and so he files it away. The third is that Warriorhead's skill and power is so unfettered that he can overcome self-inflicted brain damage without a second thought. Looking likely. ]
Did you just cause damage to your own neural functionality? For me?
[ To the tone of: 'please don't do that again'. He's obviously a bit baffled, still. Warriorhead has become 'less aware'. How? ]
[ At his hand, in the place where his glove has been punctured, the skin beneath has already shifted- abandoned soft and mutable textures for the rigid and unyielding skeleton that has so often covered his face. Warriorhead has noticed this with the same abject awareness that one might notice that the tails of their winter scarf have moved.
His attention instead is for the curious change to Noh-Varr's voice. This is not a pitch that he is familiar with. It is- perhaps concerned. Or troubled. Disapproving. For a creature accustomed to dealing in the absence of such inflection, the nuances continue to be a mystery. ]
Yes.
[ It is a simple answer. For anyone else perhaps, Warriorhead would have left it at that. ] But I have already healed. I can easily overlook you now, if you like.
[ His eyes narrow, and though Warrior can't see it, he can probably sense the remains of wariness that stick to Noh-Varr's brain. Warriorhead is doing that talking-without-saying thing he's so fond of, and Noh-Varr knows he's going to have to be more specific in asking for clarification. But first: ]
Thank you. I would like.
[ It's a strange gap between what he expects and what Warriorhead gives him. He's only just getting a taste for what his instructor is capable of, and things that seem utterly impossible to him are apparently mundane. What had Warriorhead told him? 'I prefer to make the unattainable attainable'? ]
Is this...permanent? How exactly have you become able to 'overlook' me?
[ Perhaps echoing his uncertainty, his uniform warps and plays over the tips of his fingers, alternately exposing and then covering the bare skin. ]
[ The alternating state of his fingers appears to be of particular interest to Warriorhead, at least, so far as the particular angle of his helmet might lead one to believe. It is in his nature to presume that behavior is not accidental, but he does not postulate on the cause aloud. ]
It will last until I take your sample again.
[ This particular answer seems to be the greatest concern, and as such it is the one he most readily provides. It is the second query that creates the lapse of silence. Warriorhead is not accustomed to explaining himself. ]
I shattered the neural bay responsible for recognizing your unique signature. It is... [ His head tilts faintly. How should he compare this? ] unlearning the constellations. All stars appear the same.
[ He's never had his life signs compared to stars before. The image is striking. Doubtlessly the intent, but it carves a smile out of his face nonetheless. Noh-Varr thinks on the use of the word 'sample'. Take it again, Warriorhead said. Through touch. He considers when Warriorhead would have touched him--ah. ]
I see. After our date.
[ His hand moves up to the space just over his heart. His uniform doesn't shift in response, this time. He doesn't quite frown, but it makes him thoughtful. That had been a 'sample'. Warriorhead had neglected to mention that at the time.
So in the absence of the information he'd gathered through that touch, Warriorhead had now lost the capacity to 'recognize' him, the Kree's particular signatures of energy and impulse becoming as anonymous as anyone else's. Interesting. He could fail to offer his impulses again, armed with this knowledge. Honestly, the idea would have been appealing a few months ago, but right now--it chafes with his desire to be seen and acknowledged. especially by this person. Still, this independance is valuable. He'll treasure it. In exchange: ]
I have been detained, before. [ First Midas, intending to add him to his collection, and then by SHIELD, later SWORD, placing him in the Cube. ] I escaped each time, but was rapidly hunted down. [ He crushed both of his keepers, and that feeling of triumph wells up in him now when he speaks of those memories. ] As a result, I dislike feeling tracked. [ A beat. ] That said--the evil I know is always better than the one I don't.
[ Meaning, he'd rather live being tracked, knowing Warriorhead is the one doing it, than live being watched by unknown forces. The CDC watches him, but it is ignorable in the same way Osborn's security cameras are. He isn't looking for trouble, he keeps his mind to himself. The CDC has bigger fish to fry. Warriorhead is a known quantity. Having him over Noh-Varr's shoulder, so to speak, could prove useful, in its way. Still, he vacillates. He needs time to think. ]
[ Is is a curious position that they share, so far as Warriorhead is concerned. It is his nature to allow matters to go unsaid and unelaborated upon. There is, he has found, a degree of risk associated with details. He has a preference for remaining vague and unformed, a state that is contrary to all that his species has held in esteem. Perhaps he is simply out of practice. Perhaps this adjustment was not one he had intended to make again.
The point is moot.
Warriorhead clarifies when he is not required to do so. In the grand scheme of things, it can only be called a choice. Much like the choice that brings Noh-Varr to share notes of his personal history. This too is not a requirement, but instead, a slow construction of expectations for their arrangement.
The recruit speaks of possibilities. He explains his stance and creates a small allowance for Warriorhead to be a theoretical exception- without quite bridging that gap. He is hesitating. Warriorhead will gain nothing by forcing such an exchange, and he finds the thought distasteful. ]
I will not take from you again unless you ask of me first.
[ The words read as a statement of fact might, and to the Instructor, it is precisely that. Warriorhead will wait for his request not because he is noble, but because he wishes to be desired. ]
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It doesn't hurt, Warriorhead is not poised to attack, but his heart rate still rises, hands reflexively closing around the offending arm. When he'd met Warriorhead in his rover, weeks ago, the thought had occured to him that he'd be a smear as soon as Warriorhead considered it a good idea, and now there are several outcomes to this exchange running through Noh-Varr's mind, none of them pleasant. But seconds pass and the sword doesn't drop, and just as his instructor isn't applying pressure, neither is Noh-Varr. The quick surge of panic eases as quickly as it came into a hyper-aware state. Warriorhead is arriving on the tail end of several difficult conversations he's had today, with people in various states of emotional upset, and equally varied capacity for dealing with it. And that question, while casual, forces him to think on all of them. 'Many noticed your loss', he said--Noh-Varr has noticed. Around his left temple are the yellowed remains of that morning's bruises, courtesy of Annie. That they have stayed this long means Noh-Varr wanted to keep them, maybe as a reminder to himself. He doesn't quite make the connection between Warrior's comment and the imposition, but he understands the important message: his instructor is displeased.
All the reasons that had led to that choice seem fleeting now. Just a few days ago he'd told Warriorhead that rationality and feelings went poorly together. Vriska is a cause of protectiveness in him: she reminds him of himself. And he'd let her bear the weight of his death, set her up to fail, and she had. For what? He'd hurt the closest friends he'd made here. Failed his team. For what he can see now was his own ego, fueled by emotion. He hasn't really learned anything since Oubliette, and that, above the rest, frustrates him.
Moments pass in silence before he is put down, gently. There will be no marks at his jaw in a manner of minutes, as he diverts nanites to the area. ]
Yes.
[ His voice is rough from being suspended, but loud enough, and unwavering. He's uncertain what response his answer will get him, but is willing to meet it. ]
no subject
[ The moments that had connected them (Warriorhead's fingers to Noh-Varr's throat, Noh-Varr's hand to Warriorhead's arm) were unquestionably illuminating. The spike of his heartbeat and the hitch of his lungs did not pass unnoticed, nor did the stillness that had clung to his recruit's form. Warriorhead would not call it submission, and he would not call it fear. Self-preservation, perhaps. He will need to speak to Mothership and tell her that her lesson was further reaching than anticipated. ]
Death is easy. Anyone can die. [ It should be noted that despite releasing his charge, Warriorhead does nothing to adjust their proximity. It is too close to be anything but familiar. Perhaps not close enough to be considered truly intimate. He considers both assessments to be a matter of perspective. ] The challenge is to live.
But I did not come here tonight to lecture or instruct.
no subject
Mutely, he nods. He doesn't move away from Warriorhead, but his state of alertness is slow to fade. ]
I understand. Why did you come? [ His tone, now that he's regained his composure, is curious, not accusatory. He'd ask if there's anything he can do for Warriorhead, but he's not in a volunteering mood. ]
no subject
That which is done is done.
Instead, he lifts his hand between them. It is the same that had clasped the fragile column of his recruit's throat moments earlier, and is upturned between them- as some sort of visual offering perhaps. ]
And to place your impulses into my sensory network.
no subject
My impulses? How, and for what purpose?
[ He's obviously not inherently suspicious of the outstretched hand, because after a beat his uniform melts away from his fingers to form a neat sleeve at his wrist. He doesn't touch right away, cautious. His eyes slide between Warriorhead's hand, and his helmet, where his 'eyes' would be. Force of habit. ]
no subject
That his companion's gaze takes him in does not escape his attention, and Warriorhead does not bristle beneath the attention. He is no stranger to finding himself surveyed. Recruits are curious, some more than others, and their attention lands readily on that which is different. Unique from themselves. Perhaps Noh-Varr is attempting to identify potential threats, or collect clues to this shift in their interactions. It is not in his nature to presume, so he doesn't. ]
Life signs. I will know if they are ended, or under duress in the future.
no subject
Something like...this latest Blue mission. You would be made aware.
[ And presumably become capable of interfering, if he deemed it necessary. Noh-Varr is hesitant. That seems invasive. Between this and Ryan, that'll be two people who are aware of him at all times. ]
Is this significant to you? To the development of bonds.
no subject
Or perhaps, Warriorhead himself has offended him.
It is a thought-provoking possibility. ]
Would you prefer that I remain uninvolved in the future?
no subject
No, I--[ it's rare that Noh-Varr stumbles over his words. He usually speaks with clarity of intention. But now he's torn between explaining, and not. He chooses. ] Your involvement is not the issue. I do not like feeling that I am being tracked. [ He uses the word 'track' in its hunting sense: he's spent a large part of the last few years being chased, followed, tagged and numbered. His every movement monitored. He doesn't want that here. ]
no subject
The term requires no small amount of rifling through his understanding of the english language- the connotations of the term as much as the definition. Warriorhead stands in silence for a long moment, apparently contemplative, and makes no effort to explain his silence. For the amount of conversation that as passed between them thus far, he considers it unnecessary.
He expects that Noh-Varr understands these things.
Perhaps the same way that Noh-Varr might be sure that his stutter has not gone unnoticed.
Delicacy, then.
The CDC tracks all of them, and the crew of the Neheda maintains a modicum of awareness of its recruits- so to be tracked is to be alive. But such practices are tolerated, not enjoyed. Warriorhead regards Noh-Varr in this moment and wonders at his experiences thus far. At who, and what, has hunted him. And then without a word, he lifts one gloved hand towards his head.
It is difficult to say which fracture it is that splinters the air, because they occur at nearly the same time. Two narrow spears shoot through the tip of his glove and puncture through his helmet, as if both were made of paper. It is a matter of seconds before his hand lowers, and the holes in his helmet are twins to those at the base of his skull- just behind his ear. ]
Okay.
no subject
Warriorhead breaks the silence by moving--
Noh-Varr stifles a gasp. One hand jumps forward to stop the puncture, but Warriorhead is tremendously fast. For a moment his brain is alight with what can only be described as worry. He finds himself relaxing only after the vocal confirmation tells him Warriorhead is still well. Exhaling, he prevents himself from becoming annoyed. The display had a purpose, he tells himself. ]
Why did you do that?
no subject
[ If this display has hurt him in some way, if it leaves discomfort in its wake, Warriorhead provides no sign. He returns to his state of unnatural stillness, mere inches from his recruit. ]
You didn't want me to be so aware of you. I'm complying.
no subject
Did you just cause damage to your own neural functionality? For me?
[ To the tone of: 'please don't do that again'. He's obviously a bit baffled, still. Warriorhead has become 'less aware'. How? ]
no subject
His attention instead is for the curious change to Noh-Varr's voice. This is not a pitch that he is familiar with. It is- perhaps concerned. Or troubled. Disapproving. For a creature accustomed to dealing in the absence of such inflection, the nuances continue to be a mystery. ]
Yes.
[ It is a simple answer. For anyone else perhaps, Warriorhead would have left it at that. ] But I have already healed. I can easily overlook you now, if you like.
no subject
Thank you. I would like.
[ It's a strange gap between what he expects and what Warriorhead gives him. He's only just getting a taste for what his instructor is capable of, and things that seem utterly impossible to him are apparently mundane. What had Warriorhead told him? 'I prefer to make the unattainable attainable'? ]
Is this...permanent? How exactly have you become able to 'overlook' me?
[ Perhaps echoing his uncertainty, his uniform warps and plays over the tips of his fingers, alternately exposing and then covering the bare skin. ]
no subject
It will last until I take your sample again.
[ This particular answer seems to be the greatest concern, and as such it is the one he most readily provides. It is the second query that creates the lapse of silence. Warriorhead is not accustomed to explaining himself. ]
I shattered the neural bay responsible for recognizing your unique signature. It is... [ His head tilts faintly. How should he compare this? ] unlearning the constellations. All stars appear the same.
no subject
I see. After our date.
[ His hand moves up to the space just over his heart. His uniform doesn't shift in response, this time. He doesn't quite frown, but it makes him thoughtful. That had been a 'sample'. Warriorhead had neglected to mention that at the time.
So in the absence of the information he'd gathered through that touch, Warriorhead had now lost the capacity to 'recognize' him, the Kree's particular signatures of energy and impulse becoming as anonymous as anyone else's. Interesting. He could fail to offer his impulses again, armed with this knowledge. Honestly, the idea would have been appealing a few months ago, but right now--it chafes with his desire to be seen and acknowledged. especially by this person. Still, this independance is valuable. He'll treasure it. In exchange: ]
I have been detained, before. [ First Midas, intending to add him to his collection, and then by SHIELD, later SWORD, placing him in the Cube. ] I escaped each time, but was rapidly hunted down. [ He crushed both of his keepers, and that feeling of triumph wells up in him now when he speaks of those memories. ] As a result, I dislike feeling tracked. [ A beat. ] That said--the evil I know is always better than the one I don't.
[ Meaning, he'd rather live being tracked, knowing Warriorhead is the one doing it, than live being watched by unknown forces. The CDC watches him, but it is ignorable in the same way Osborn's security cameras are. He isn't looking for trouble, he keeps his mind to himself. The CDC has bigger fish to fry. Warriorhead is a known quantity. Having him over Noh-Varr's shoulder, so to speak, could prove useful, in its way. Still, he vacillates. He needs time to think. ]
no subject
[ Is is a curious position that they share, so far as Warriorhead is concerned. It is his nature to allow matters to go unsaid and unelaborated upon. There is, he has found, a degree of risk associated with details. He has a preference for remaining vague and unformed, a state that is contrary to all that his species has held in esteem. Perhaps he is simply out of practice. Perhaps this adjustment was not one he had intended to make again.
The point is moot.
Warriorhead clarifies when he is not required to do so. In the grand scheme of things, it can only be called a choice. Much like the choice that brings Noh-Varr to share notes of his personal history. This too is not a requirement, but instead, a slow construction of expectations for their arrangement.
The recruit speaks of possibilities. He explains his stance and creates a small allowance for Warriorhead to be a theoretical exception- without quite bridging that gap. He is hesitating. Warriorhead will gain nothing by forcing such an exchange, and he finds the thought distasteful. ]
I will not take from you again unless you ask of me first.
[ The words read as a statement of fact might, and to the Instructor, it is precisely that. Warriorhead will wait for his request not because he is noble, but because he wishes to be desired. ]