[ Noh-Varr shows up a few minutes later, looking exceptionally casual in jeans and a t-shirt, all clothing Ryan probably remembers from Selena. In one arm he's carrying a portable record player, with a handful of LPs in the other. Ryan may recognize Nina Simone (of course), the Beastie Boys and Sigur Rós--plus his favorite Top Hits from the 80s, which Ryan has already had the pleasure of dancing to. ]
We can try a little of everything, then. I don't mind switching it up a little.
[Ryan flashes him a small grin as he pushes himself up off the edge of his bunk. Casual isn't always his own preference, but the button-down shirt is without a vest this time (you're welcome, Noh-Varr) and he's got his hair tugged out of its usual bun, leaving it in messy waves. Small steps toward looking less like a career dork.
Normally, he'd be more hesitant. Right now, though, they're all dealing with an unknown killer, he's facing what sounds like completely unpleasant training, and he's been more than a little eager for company; instead of just beckoning Noh over to sit, Ryan comes to him first, arms sliding around his waist.]
[ He smiles a bit at the comment, because it feels good to smile, and lets Ryan come over, dropping the record player harmlessly on the nearest open bunk. Ryan is taller than he is, and so Noh-Varr finds himself tucking his chin into the angle of the other man's shoulder. Ryan has that peculiar scent of old cloth, paper and ink, which is slowly fading under the overwhelming clinical scent of the ship. Soon, they're all going to start smelling alike, so he tries to encapsulate this little part of his friend that still clings to his skin and hair.
As soon as the records join the record player, he slides his free hands up Ryan's arms to wrap around his shoulders, pulling the human down a bit. It's not lost on him just how much Ryan probably needed this, and he invites leaning. ]
Have you managed to sleep much, with the clicking?
[He's easy to tug down, as used as he is to that slightly stooped posture to try to hide his height-- and he finds a way to fit against the body close to his own just as easily. Ryan practically melts into place, clearly used to accommodating, with a pleased little murmur.]
...haven't noticed it much, honestly. I lived in a haunted house, I'm used to things making weird noises at night.
[The humor in his tone might fall a bit flat, but he's trying, here.]
And there are a lot of new recruits. Still getting used to them being around the hub, it's more of a distraction than the noise.
[There are a couple others he can feel at this range, but only barely, with how most are out. It's nice to have a familiar presence here instead of strange ones in the background.]
[ Noh-Varr exhales an aborted laugh, the pads of his fingers tracing alien symbols on Ryan's back. Being touched and warmed feels good, and yet a part of him feels guilty for taking so much 'off' time today. A few hours with Warriorhead, a nap with Garrus, and now this.
Selflessness, he supposes, won't bring Isabelle back. ]
Must be exhausting.
[ He figures they'll be white noise eventually, but the thought makes him sympathetic. He's not entirely pleased to have to let go, but he does pull away, if only to put on some music for them. ]
Do you mind if I ask you something?
[ His tone is unusually hesitant. He picks up the Nina Simone record and sets it on the machine. There's an initial scratch as he brings the needle down, then the dulcet tones of Nina's voice fill the room, volume kept tastefully low so as not to impede conversation.
Suspecting that Ryan won't, in fact, mind, Noh-Varr hops straight ahead to his question. ]
If Isabelle were--if either of them had been...disturbed, in death. Would you know?
[ He isn't sure how to phrase it. The world of ghosts and spirits is, for the most part, unknown to him. He figures she hadn't gone peacefully, but he'd like to at least know she wasn't caught in the veil. ]
[Ryan lets him pull away only reluctantly, fingertips hooking into the fabric of his shirt just long enough to make it clear that he's thinking about not letting go. He takes a seat on his bunk again, waiting for Noh-Varr to join him-- and for a moment there's just silence in response to that question. He hadn't known his friend knew either of them-- hadn't asked.]
I would know. There haven't been any signs of their spirits around, and- I asked Mothership if I could see their bodies, to make sure they weren't near those instead. They've passed on, I promise. First thing I made sure of after I'd looked at the scene.
[ He nods, mutely, his emotions under tight rein. Kree aren't meant to feel strongly; they're not just a warrior race but a soldier race, and part of their training is making sure that emotional distress won't compromise performance.
Still. When he speaks, his voice is soft, his back still turned to Ryan. ]
Isabelle was the first person I met on Ajna, right after the drop. She put a gun to my head; forty-eight hours later I learned we were rooming together. [ He huffs, amused at the memory, then turns to join Ryan on the bed. His expression is a strange mixture of fondness and wire-taut aggression. ] She didn't deserve this death.
[When he's come to the bed, Ryan doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around him again, holding more than hugging this time. The look on his face is one he just has the immediate urge to soothe the aggression from, and if Noh lets him that hold will be close enough to have him tucked right up against Ryan's body, chin resting lightly on his shorter companion's head. (He'll be quick to ease off if it's unwelcome.)]
It's... it's never anything you can stop, if it's meant to happen, but- nobody deserves that. Just don't forget her, Noh.
[ Ryan can feel him stiffen at the words 'it's never anything you can stop', but Noh-Varr makes no move to extricate himself. He doesn't want to argue, right now. He doesn't have the energy. ]
I won't. I'll avenger her. We'll find whatever killed her and obliterate it.
[ Slowly he relaxes again, his fingers reaching right beneath the hem of Ryan's shirt to knead the dip of his hipbone. ]
[That almost makes him let go, flickers of worry going through his head (what did I say, is he mad), but he lets out a breath when he feels Noh-Varr relax, feels his hands on him. Ryan's fingers thread into his hair to comb gently through it, in an affectionate, repetitive little gesture.]
I never doubted that. I'm just sorry there's not more I can do.
[ He normally doesn't go for being pet, but it's something Garrus seems to find pleasant to do, and so he doesn't object when Ryan's fingers start threading through his hair. ]
She's my second dead rovermate, you know. Annie went first. Never made it off Ajna.
[ It still hurts, knowing he hadn't known until they'd been on the Neheda for a week. Her bed had stayed empty, he'd guessed, but he hates having what's his taken away. His rovermates, for the longest time, were the closest thing he had to a crew here. ]
[He deals with death all the time and yet sometimes, he's just not sure what to say. Sure, it's easy with strangers, people he doesn't feel particularly attached to-- but beyond that, it starts to feel like offering sympathy is just unnecessary platitudes. It's not enough, it's what they could get from anyone.
His hand slips back down after a moment, fingers trailing over Noh's neck and down his spine, finally settling at the small of his back. Ryan is generally restless at best, and this isn't too different.]
It's not gonna happen again. [Not the firm assertion it might be from someone else. Coming from Ryan, it's a quiet promise.] And I'll keep an extra eye out for them, if you want. I mean- I try to, for everybody, but-- fuck, you know what I mean.
We'll prevent it. This crew is my crew, and I'll protect it. [ A beat. ] Hibari and Vriska...they're so young, Ryan. And I know I'm not--I'm not old, myself, but they're still small.
[ The Kree don't have a concept of 'childhood', really. Since they're created rather than born, and emerge from their pods already (mostly) functional, they're expected to act as small adults. But he recognizes potential when he sees it, and would despise seeing it snuffed out. He cares, even more than he'd like. ]
[He falters there, searching for the right words.]
It's easy to think you're older than you are. I wouldn't have guessed you were younger than me, and honestly it still feels a little weird to think about. Cultural differences, I guess.
[Hibari and Vriska. Names he sort of recognizes, but that he isn't familiar with; he's making a mental note to change that, to pick up their signatures if he can and make good on what he'd offered.]
The Kree don't really have children, just cadets. If you're old enough to move, you're old enough to fight. If you're old enough to think, you're old enough learn. Sciences, engineering, motor skills. We drill in them as soon as we're out of the pods.
[ He shrugs. His thumbs keep tracing foreign patterns into Ryan's side, lazily. ] If I'd never left Hala, I never would have thought it wasn't the only way to do things. The freedom humans give their children is astounding. Isn't there a danger of poor or uneven socialization?
[...he can't help it, he laughs-- silently, shoulders shaking as he leans against Noh-Varr, holding on to him a bit more tightly.]
Is there a danger of poor socialization, he asks the guy who lived with a bunch of ghosts.
[Breathe. He can't just leave it at that. Ryan inhales, exhales slowly, and manages to still himself.]
There-- there is, yeah. I mean- I haven't had a lot of human contact in my life, not before I got here. They thought that what I can do was just hallucinations, something wrong, my parents homeschooled me because I couldn't just play normal in public. They were trying to protect me, in a way, but... there are so many ways to just sort of-- get separated from the whole, you know? My case was more on the extreme end, but a lot of people just don't quite fit in. They don't connect in the way most humans do with each other.
[Ryan's silent for a moment there, relaxing a little further before he continues, quiet.]
You start wondering if you ever really can, sometimes. Like I said, not really a normal case, but- shit, I'm not even sure I consider myself human anymore. I call myself human, I'm pretty sure I'm thoroughly biologically human, but I keep catching myself saying they instead of we when I talk about them. Human relations are just... chaotic, at best.
[ When Ryan explains, he can't help a pang of...recognition? Sympathy? Either way, he knows that struggle--being separated from the whole and being uncertain of how to get back, or even if you truly want it. ]
Human relations is an oxymoron: your species seems more intent on killing each other than finding ways to cohabitate. [ He breaths out. He loves humans, but they're slow to change. They've been tearing each other down for thousands of years. ]
The Kree believe in unity. A single culture for the whole. The same education, the same rules, the same standard for everyone. It solves a lot of problems. [ He reaches up, brushing Ryan's hair away from his face. ] For what it's worth--I think you're an excellent example of your species. And I'm glad to have met you.
[That-- is a thoroughly unexpected compliment, one that leaves him feeling warm and with a smile on his face that he'd feel was embarrassing if he could see it.]
--glad to have met you too, you know.
[And he's still entirely too full of that pleased feeling, there's nothing to do with it but let it out, and so Ryan tilts his head down to kiss him. Not too intently, not too long; just enough for it to be a warm and affectionate thing.]
...but I know what you mean. About other humans. Why d'you think I focus on helping the dead, and people who aren't part of my species?
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I'd like that, if you're not busy. :)
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Are you in your room, or in the hub space they've set up?
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Heading back to my room. The hub's a great idea and all, but it's not great if you want a little privacy.
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Just us, then? I can't promise I'll be excellent company.
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Unless you'd rather it not be? I just thought getting away from things a little would be good.
FROM: farrow.ryan@cdc.org
And you know I'm not going to complain about your company regardless, right?
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You're the only person on this ship who understands the true genius behind Songs from the Big Chair, Ryan. I'll never mind your company.
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
Just wait a moment. They haven't transferred you to another room, have they?
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28. Same people, mostly, different number.
FROM: farrow.ryan@cdc.org
I'll leave the door open for you. :)
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I brought a selection this time.
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[Ryan flashes him a small grin as he pushes himself up off the edge of his bunk. Casual isn't always his own preference, but the button-down shirt is without a vest this time (you're welcome, Noh-Varr) and he's got his hair tugged out of its usual bun, leaving it in messy waves. Small steps toward looking less like a career dork.
Normally, he'd be more hesitant. Right now, though, they're all dealing with an unknown killer, he's facing what sounds like completely unpleasant training, and he's been more than a little eager for company; instead of just beckoning Noh over to sit, Ryan comes to him first, arms sliding around his waist.]
...thanks for coming.
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As soon as the records join the record player, he slides his free hands up Ryan's arms to wrap around his shoulders, pulling the human down a bit. It's not lost on him just how much Ryan probably needed this, and he invites leaning. ]
Have you managed to sleep much, with the clicking?
[ Because he hasn't. ]
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...haven't noticed it much, honestly. I lived in a haunted house, I'm used to things making weird noises at night.
[The humor in his tone might fall a bit flat, but he's trying, here.]
And there are a lot of new recruits. Still getting used to them being around the hub, it's more of a distraction than the noise.
[There are a couple others he can feel at this range, but only barely, with how most are out. It's nice to have a familiar presence here instead of strange ones in the background.]
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Selflessness, he supposes, won't bring Isabelle back. ]
Must be exhausting.
[ He figures they'll be white noise eventually, but the thought makes him sympathetic. He's not entirely pleased to have to let go, but he does pull away, if only to put on some music for them. ]
Do you mind if I ask you something?
[ His tone is unusually hesitant. He picks up the Nina Simone record and sets it on the machine. There's an initial scratch as he brings the needle down, then the dulcet tones of Nina's voice fill the room, volume kept tastefully low so as not to impede conversation.
Suspecting that Ryan won't, in fact, mind, Noh-Varr hops straight ahead to his question. ]
If Isabelle were--if either of them had been...disturbed, in death. Would you know?
[ He isn't sure how to phrase it. The world of ghosts and spirits is, for the most part, unknown to him. He figures she hadn't gone peacefully, but he'd like to at least know she wasn't caught in the veil. ]
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I would know. There haven't been any signs of their spirits around, and- I asked Mothership if I could see their bodies, to make sure they weren't near those instead. They've passed on, I promise. First thing I made sure of after I'd looked at the scene.
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Still. When he speaks, his voice is soft, his back still turned to Ryan. ]
Isabelle was the first person I met on Ajna, right after the drop. She put a gun to my head; forty-eight hours later I learned we were rooming together. [ He huffs, amused at the memory, then turns to join Ryan on the bed. His expression is a strange mixture of fondness and wire-taut aggression. ] She didn't deserve this death.
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[When he's come to the bed, Ryan doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around him again, holding more than hugging this time. The look on his face is one he just has the immediate urge to soothe the aggression from, and if Noh lets him that hold will be close enough to have him tucked right up against Ryan's body, chin resting lightly on his shorter companion's head. (He'll be quick to ease off if it's unwelcome.)]
It's... it's never anything you can stop, if it's meant to happen, but- nobody deserves that. Just don't forget her, Noh.
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I won't. I'll avenger her. We'll find whatever killed her and obliterate it.
[ Slowly he relaxes again, his fingers reaching right beneath the hem of Ryan's shirt to knead the dip of his hipbone. ]
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I never doubted that. I'm just sorry there's not more I can do.
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[ He normally doesn't go for being pet, but it's something Garrus seems to find pleasant to do, and so he doesn't object when Ryan's fingers start threading through his hair. ]
She's my second dead rovermate, you know. Annie went first. Never made it off Ajna.
[ It still hurts, knowing he hadn't known until they'd been on the Neheda for a week. Her bed had stayed empty, he'd guessed, but he hates having what's his taken away. His rovermates, for the longest time, were the closest thing he had to a crew here. ]
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His hand slips back down after a moment, fingers trailing over Noh's neck and down his spine, finally settling at the small of his back. Ryan is generally restless at best, and this isn't too different.]
It's not gonna happen again. [Not the firm assertion it might be from someone else. Coming from Ryan, it's a quiet promise.] And I'll keep an extra eye out for them, if you want. I mean- I try to, for everybody, but-- fuck, you know what I mean.
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We'll prevent it. This crew is my crew, and I'll protect it. [ A beat. ] Hibari and Vriska...they're so young, Ryan. And I know I'm not--I'm not old, myself, but they're still small.
[ The Kree don't have a concept of 'childhood', really. Since they're created rather than born, and emerge from their pods already (mostly) functional, they're expected to act as small adults. But he recognizes potential when he sees it, and would despise seeing it snuffed out. He cares, even more than he'd like. ]
Still, thank you. I appreciate the sentiment.
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[He falters there, searching for the right words.]
It's easy to think you're older than you are. I wouldn't have guessed you were younger than me, and honestly it still feels a little weird to think about. Cultural differences, I guess.
[Hibari and Vriska. Names he sort of recognizes, but that he isn't familiar with; he's making a mental note to change that, to pick up their signatures if he can and make good on what he'd offered.]
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The Kree don't really have children, just cadets. If you're old enough to move, you're old enough to fight. If you're old enough to think, you're old enough learn. Sciences, engineering, motor skills. We drill in them as soon as we're out of the pods.
[ He shrugs. His thumbs keep tracing foreign patterns into Ryan's side, lazily. ] If I'd never left Hala, I never would have thought it wasn't the only way to do things. The freedom humans give their children is astounding. Isn't there a danger of poor or uneven socialization?
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Is there a danger of poor socialization, he asks the guy who lived with a bunch of ghosts.
[Breathe. He can't just leave it at that. Ryan inhales, exhales slowly, and manages to still himself.]
There-- there is, yeah. I mean- I haven't had a lot of human contact in my life, not before I got here. They thought that what I can do was just hallucinations, something wrong, my parents homeschooled me because I couldn't just play normal in public. They were trying to protect me, in a way, but... there are so many ways to just sort of-- get separated from the whole, you know? My case was more on the extreme end, but a lot of people just don't quite fit in. They don't connect in the way most humans do with each other.
[Ryan's silent for a moment there, relaxing a little further before he continues, quiet.]
You start wondering if you ever really can, sometimes. Like I said, not really a normal case, but- shit, I'm not even sure I consider myself human anymore. I call myself human, I'm pretty sure I'm thoroughly biologically human, but I keep catching myself saying they instead of we when I talk about them. Human relations are just... chaotic, at best.
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Human relations is an oxymoron: your species seems more intent on killing each other than finding ways to cohabitate. [ He breaths out. He loves humans, but they're slow to change. They've been tearing each other down for thousands of years. ]
The Kree believe in unity. A single culture for the whole. The same education, the same rules, the same standard for everyone. It solves a lot of problems. [ He reaches up, brushing Ryan's hair away from his face. ] For what it's worth--I think you're an excellent example of your species. And I'm glad to have met you.
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--glad to have met you too, you know.
[And he's still entirely too full of that pleased feeling, there's nothing to do with it but let it out, and so Ryan tilts his head down to kiss him. Not too intently, not too long; just enough for it to be a warm and affectionate thing.]
...but I know what you mean. About other humans. Why d'you think I focus on helping the dead, and people who aren't part of my species?
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wtf I know I wrote a response to this yesterday
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