“Excellent,” the lich declared in satisfaction. “There is a room three doors down on the left that you may take as your own. It has an ante-chamber for your Jaeger. My apologies for the decor, Lady Heterodyne. Clank hounds, while making an excellent crew and guard, are the not the best of housekeepers. I will be here when you have finalized your plans.” Ludd sniffed through his rotted nose cavity. “Not that I can physically be much of anywhere else at the moment.”
Jötz kept his expression bland even as his own mind raced. There had been no missing the look of confusion upon Ivy’s face when she had turned to the Jaeger, however much she might have tried to mask it when addressing the pirate captain. He followed her out, snatching up the firearm on the way and holstering it neatly with a barely concealed look of dislike at Ludd. There was no point in further hostilities. That did not mean he had to like the current situation or their adversary any better. Enemies acting nice usually meant more trouble later on down the line.
Escorting Ivy to their assigned quarters, he made sure the door was firmly shut and locked behind him before continuing. The suite had been luxurious once. A large canopied bed was tucked against the one side, it sheets moth-eaten and dusty, but dry. The other side contained an elegant writing desk with matching bookcase besides it, and then a doorway what looked like some sort of bathing chamber. Like much of the rest of the barge’s rooms, the wooden floor was somewhat warped from generations of moisture, and the golden flocked wallpaper was peeling in long strips. The smell of mildew was strong.
“Not bad,” Jötz annoucned blandly as he looked about judiciously. “Hy’s been in worse. A few pillows, a few t’row rugs, maybes ve gets an iron maiden fur da corner? Be right at home!”
“Zo. Vhat ist next? Chou gonna build a death ray, melt his bones like so much puddink?” Without looking at Ivy, Jötz set his pack and several other bits of gear onto the bed. Despite the age, the mattress did not sag with the weight of it all, and Jötz trusted to take his weight as he sat and started to reload his pistol with the few rounds left. “Chou did some gut bluffink back der, chou know dat? Only vhat vas dat bit at da end? Chou looked like someone valked over chou grave!”
Looking up then, his monster’s eyes took in the sight of a small picture frame upon the desk. Frowning, he gestured to it. “Und how come he’s got a painting oft chou over der? S’not a gut likeness. Chou ist prettier dan dat! Not as pretty ast me, but vhat chou gonna do?”
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STATUS: No longer here. youtube.com/watch?v=RLBo1HJK.. 9 yrs ago- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
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He had started to drift off moment after Kijani ran off in search of the old horse blanket. It was getting harder and harder for Victor to stay awake, and the effort of keeping his eyes open was simply too much without some sort of stimulus. The former soldier couldn’t recall any time in his life where he had been so exhausted. With his back against the wall and the heap of burlap sacks over his body, Victor’s head started to loll forward sleepily. How simple it would be just to sleep… just for a few minutes… That couldn’t hurt, could it?
The sound of Kijani’s voice jerked him awake again, his head snapping up to then wobble unsteadily upon his neck. It took several blinks before he could start to focus on the young woman. The itchy blanket being wrapped about him brought a little more warmth to his ice cold limbs, but it was not enough to fully rouse him once more. Kijani was saying something, that much was clear! But what?
“Story?” Victor finally mumbled. The memory of her reading to him on the hill came floating back to him through the haze of the hypothermia, and he suddenly found himself longing for the sound of her voice. Kijani’s voice was nearly as beautiful as she was. The sweet sounds of her voice were sure to keep him awake; Victor nodded and gasped out, “Y-yes. Story, pl-please? About you. Something.., warm… and nice… in the sun…
Lifting his head to meet her gaze, some remaining spark of rational thought saw her shiver and sneeze beneath the her own collection of burlap sacks. That was not good. Not good at all! He was her host, and he should be seeing to her safety and comfort! Instead, she was freezing as well. Perhaps not as much as he was at the moment, he wryly thought to himself, as she hadn’t been the one to keep pushing herself even after they reached the safety of the mill. But regardless, they both needed warmth. The mill had nothing in which they could build a fire, either.
With a trembling hand, he pulled back one corner of the blanket for her. “G-get under first. There’s enough sacks b-b’tween us… Safe enough…” Victor gave a weak chuckle. “You’re more… more a threat to me… than me to you!”
The sound of Kijani’s voice jerked him awake again, his head snapping up to then wobble unsteadily upon his neck. It took several blinks before he could start to focus on the young woman. The itchy blanket being wrapped about him brought a little more warmth to his ice cold limbs, but it was not enough to fully rouse him once more. Kijani was saying something, that much was clear! But what?
“Story?” Victor finally mumbled. The memory of her reading to him on the hill came floating back to him through the haze of the hypothermia, and he suddenly found himself longing for the sound of her voice. Kijani’s voice was nearly as beautiful as she was. The sweet sounds of her voice were sure to keep him awake; Victor nodded and gasped out, “Y-yes. Story, pl-please? About you. Something.., warm… and nice… in the sun…
Lifting his head to meet her gaze, some remaining spark of rational thought saw her shiver and sneeze beneath the her own collection of burlap sacks. That was not good. Not good at all! He was her host, and he should be seeing to her safety and comfort! Instead, she was freezing as well. Perhaps not as much as he was at the moment, he wryly thought to himself, as she hadn’t been the one to keep pushing herself even after they reached the safety of the mill. But regardless, they both needed warmth. The mill had nothing in which they could build a fire, either.
With a trembling hand, he pulled back one corner of the blanket for her. “G-get under first. There’s enough sacks b-b’tween us… Safe enough…” Victor gave a weak chuckle. “You’re more… more a threat to me… than me to you!”
Lillian - you have me blushing, you know that, right?
Kuro - HotD is comedy gold! You just don't get less realistic physics than that!! As I said, fan service only. FLCL is far closer to my actual tastes.
Kuro - HotD is comedy gold! You just don't get less realistic physics than that!! As I said, fan service only. FLCL is far closer to my actual tastes.
Yeah, the indefinite hiatus on HotD sucks. It will probably join the ranks of such works as RG Veda, Dominion Tank Police, and My Dead Girlfriend. I don't know which is worse though: when manga/anime is left hanging without resolution, or having people like Matsumoto who wouldn't know continuity if it came up and bit them on the tuches. I mean, seriously! How many versions of Harlock has he created???
Oh, yes! It's far from my favorite, though. I'm a bit more old school: Macross and Southern Cross and the like (thanks to Robotech), Space Pirate Captain Harlock, Starblazers... Things like that. More recent favorites would be Genshiken, FLCL, and (for fan service) High School of the Dead.
For a moment, I thought that read "Black Butler"... and I was wondering how one could get filthy from reading manga. Then I got to wondering whether or not it was dojinshi. At which point, I decided that I didn't want to know.
Just a head's up! I hope to be getting caught up on everything tomorrow, so I should have a reply for you soon!
Just a head's up! I hope to be getting caught up on everything tomorrow, so I should have a reply for you soon!
His smile didn't falter, but the light in Jack's eyes showed his joy at Penny's consent. The same hand that had removed the curl from her face now caressed her cheek lightly, enjoying the softness of its round curves before he closed his eyes and leaned in close. Penny's face would feel the short bristles of his close cropped beard and mustache as inched closer to her slightly parted lips. His other hand found its way to the back of Penny's one hip to hold her close. Jack did not mash his body against her like some oversexed teenager, but he was close enough that she could smell the faint scent of WD-40, sawdust, and pumice orange soap that clung to his skin and for her to feel the warmth of his body so close to her own.
For all that his lips were somewhat chapped, the kiss was gentle and light. More importantly, there was an honesty to it, as though Jack could do nothing that was not sincerely in word and action! Somewhere along the line, his hand had slipped from her cheek down to her other hip as though to steady them both. The Newfoundlander savored the returned kiss as a gift she was giving to him. For several moments, there was nothing but the delightful presence and fragrance of Penny Raffin in his arms, and it was everything he had hoped it might be since the first time he saw her.
It wasn't love. Not by a long shot. But it was a start, and that was enough for Jack Pumphrey.
When they finally broke the kiss, it was with a certain rueful reluctance on his part. Resting his forehead against hers, he found himself ever so glad that they were of a similar height; he might have a few inches on her, but that was far better than a foot or more! He'd hate to think of how a crick in his neck from craning down to kiss her might have impacted that first kiss!
Eyes still closed, Jack sighed in contentment. He bestowed another kiss upon her forehead, a fleeting warmth only before resting his brow against hers once more.
"Best kind," he whispered to her with a light grin, "Oh, yes, b'y!"
For all that his lips were somewhat chapped, the kiss was gentle and light. More importantly, there was an honesty to it, as though Jack could do nothing that was not sincerely in word and action! Somewhere along the line, his hand had slipped from her cheek down to her other hip as though to steady them both. The Newfoundlander savored the returned kiss as a gift she was giving to him. For several moments, there was nothing but the delightful presence and fragrance of Penny Raffin in his arms, and it was everything he had hoped it might be since the first time he saw her.
It wasn't love. Not by a long shot. But it was a start, and that was enough for Jack Pumphrey.
When they finally broke the kiss, it was with a certain rueful reluctance on his part. Resting his forehead against hers, he found himself ever so glad that they were of a similar height; he might have a few inches on her, but that was far better than a foot or more! He'd hate to think of how a crick in his neck from craning down to kiss her might have impacted that first kiss!
Eyes still closed, Jack sighed in contentment. He bestowed another kiss upon her forehead, a fleeting warmth only before resting his brow against hers once more.
"Best kind," he whispered to her with a light grin, "Oh, yes, b'y!"
Hob gritted his teeth through the examination. True, it was less invasive and impersonal than all his previous pre- and post- watch medical checks had been, and the person was trying to talk to him like a normal person. The three young women crowding over Devika's shoulders to watch the whole thing as he laid there in his boxers, however, was far more an uncomfortable a sensation. These were not tech that he was familiar with. Not that the pit crew who undressed him and wired him up like some sort of mannequin were any better, more just on the opposite end of the spectrum as far as these things went. He could only wonder whether or not Yuriko and Charlie were getting the same treatment at the moment. Not to mention what the other Watch would think when they came out of their tubes.
As the three ladies began to attach the pads and settle his head into the brackets connecting the machinery to the discs upon his temple, Hob glanced at the rubber air mask. He tried very hard not to think about the feel of their hands as they readied him. What was worse: the touch of people he didn't like or that he didn't know? "They told me that the mouthpieces were designed not to break off," he grumbled testily, "That the templates for their creation were based off of athletic mouthguards and dental bits used for electro-shock patients. Did they lie about that, too? I'm not surprised."
The gaze of the NI-tech then flickered to Devika, his expression flat and curious at the same time. "The restraints aren't for my safety, you do know that? They're to protect the gear inside the NI-Tube. If I start to convulse and flail around in there, my arms and legs are toast either way. I may not be replaceable, but as far as they're concerned the equipment isn't either. They know I don't need my arms and legs to do my job. Just a working brain and central nervous system."
"Do what you like," he finally muttered. "It doesn't matter. It takes 30-90 seconds to active an emergency log out, plenty of time for me to break my arms whether I'm strapped down or not. Just make sure that bracket is tight about my temple though. I disconnect prematurely, and it's bye-bye to my temporal lobes."
Hob closed his eyes and braced himself. Paradise was only a few minutes away now. There was work to be done, yes, but his imagination and visualization of the tasks made it less work and more fun. Once in the system, he would be free for awhile to be himself. At least until they yanked him out and back into the cold reality of his slavery.
"Let's just get this over with. Fucking four hour watches."
As the three ladies began to attach the pads and settle his head into the brackets connecting the machinery to the discs upon his temple, Hob glanced at the rubber air mask. He tried very hard not to think about the feel of their hands as they readied him. What was worse: the touch of people he didn't like or that he didn't know? "They told me that the mouthpieces were designed not to break off," he grumbled testily, "That the templates for their creation were based off of athletic mouthguards and dental bits used for electro-shock patients. Did they lie about that, too? I'm not surprised."
The gaze of the NI-tech then flickered to Devika, his expression flat and curious at the same time. "The restraints aren't for my safety, you do know that? They're to protect the gear inside the NI-Tube. If I start to convulse and flail around in there, my arms and legs are toast either way. I may not be replaceable, but as far as they're concerned the equipment isn't either. They know I don't need my arms and legs to do my job. Just a working brain and central nervous system."
"Do what you like," he finally muttered. "It doesn't matter. It takes 30-90 seconds to active an emergency log out, plenty of time for me to break my arms whether I'm strapped down or not. Just make sure that bracket is tight about my temple though. I disconnect prematurely, and it's bye-bye to my temporal lobes."
Hob closed his eyes and braced himself. Paradise was only a few minutes away now. There was work to be done, yes, but his imagination and visualization of the tasks made it less work and more fun. Once in the system, he would be free for awhile to be himself. At least until they yanked him out and back into the cold reality of his slavery.
"Let's just get this over with. Fucking four hour watches."
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