anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue pt 2

"No. We can get a sense of it, if our meal for the evening has had a great deal to drink. But it wouldn't be quite the same."

And he offers the glass, tipping it in York's direction briefly. Go on. Try it and see for yourself. No better way to feel out all the new nuances of their condition.

York accepts it without further question, taking a light sip. Every little oaken, smokey detail he'd been able to vaguely grasp as a human? Magnified tenfold now that everything was that much sharper. Another one of those roughly indecent moans twists out of him as he licks his lips, offering it back.

"That's good whiskey, goddamn."

"When you taste every detail, you become a little more selective. I did say it was the taste," he reminds him, mouth curling even further upwards.

The glass is retrieved, with a brief brush of his fingers in the process.

"I would suggest investing in good coffee."

"Noted. I'm gonna have to get good at making it. spend enough time on the front and any coffee becomes good coffee." But this? This is...a little closer to luxury than he'd ever thought to get. And here he is with someone that's got good reason to stick around and is stupidly attractive-

Stupidly smart. Right. Smart, not. Attractive. Not looking at his lips while he smiles at all, nope. Back to the puzzles.

There's little point in denying the obvious when they've already had an encounter together, tonight. Obviously there's some attraction there. But if York's turning a blind eye to the matter, he won't press.

Instead, he finds his seat once more, there to drink and observe as York goes about solving his puzzles.

He works until yet again he clears the whole program in record time, delta compiling data for future puzzles. A more complex series of holographic shapes flares up long enough to give him pause before he begins flicking through them, humming under his breath. "So...we hunt, we work, what do you do for fun?"

"For fun," he repeats, looking slightly skeptical of the idea. Of course he knows what fun is, what it is to find enjoyment in leisure activities. It's just not often a thing he seeks out. At most, he looks for ways not to be bored.

"Reading. Pool, when there is a facility available nearby. Target practice."

There's no telling with his tone if he's joking or not.

"...target practice is fun?" He didn't get that when north said it, sure as shit won't when Locus says it. "Pool I'm alright at, reading...depends on what you got. I'm more a social hobby kinda guy but I guess that's out of the question now, huh?"

"As far as anything long-term might go. You're more than able to go socialize if you feel like it, so long as you're appropriately cautious about it. We don't need to wear out our welcome here sooner than necessary."

But York's been hiding for long enough now he knows how to stay under the radar when need be. He's not terribly concerned.

"And yes. Target practice is enjoyable enough. Furthering one's skill is always gratifying. You enjoy your puzzles, do you not?"

"They're designed to scratch that addictive grinding itch in my brain, so yes." There aren't anymore programmed little rewards anymore cuz he took them out, just completing them is enough for him now. Still. "I guess I can see it."

A little.

Maybe.

"Wanna try pool tomorrow night?"

It's just a very simple puzzle, Taylor. Bullet goes into target.

Those pale eyes narrow in consideration at his request. "I suppose there's no harm in it. There are pool halls around the city. If you find one to your liking, we could go."

There's a pause.

"It will be interesting to see if your new prowess conflicts with your renewed vision." Not having that eye all those years and then suddenly having it? Hard to say where his skill level would rest.

"You're giving me too much credit, I was shit at pool before I lost the eye too. It's all physics variables and angles." Shit for snipers or math people that don't work in solid constrains of code with known variables and variations. Still, it'll be fun.

"Who knows, though. Maybe I'll be more than decent." And he can bum around, sip on a good whiskey, and just. Be around people for a little bit.

"You will likely be better than you were."

That has to be some consolation. Even if Locus is likely to beat him into the dirt. Figuratively speaking.

"...how does it feel? Being in their midst."

"I can't give you an objective opinion. I've kinda been on my own since I left the project so right now I'm just...relieved." To be able to spend time around them and not be afraid. To have this affirmation of life and living, even if he isn't anymore.

"Comforting? Comfortable."

"...you are a part of them still in a way I never was," he muses quietly. His expression isn't precisely wistful, but it could be close. Even when he was human, he'd never been a particularly social creature.

That did not mean he did not value the company he had, of course. But moving through them always felt like moving through hostile territory.

"I like people." It's hard to say why, they're puzzling and contrary and unpredictable but...fascinating. fun. Locus is...

Quiet, but he knows how to handle quiet. "You're not half bad either."

"You say that now." His eyebrow lifts once more. But it seems more in jest than anything, dry as his humor might be.

"People will be there. You're still tied to them, just in a different way. You'll see them, know them, as no one else does. There must be some good in that."

"Because of the blood thing?" He did notice something a little more in what he tasted, something like locus' but not as all consuming.

Good. He's noticed. Locus gives a faint incline of his chin. "Yes. Over time, certain qualities can be discerned. You'll learn what nuances in the blood mean, and be able to assess the state of your prey simply by the sound of their heartbeat. For now, I imagine it's a different experience altogether."

He leans back slightly, downing the last of his glass and setting it aside.

"What do you get from me?" When they're feeding off each other in a way that totally isn't kinda sexy. When his heart still beat, if slowly.

Shaping that scent, that taste, into words? Would take a far more skilled craftsman of words than Locus. But the considers this long and hard, eyes flickering briefly over York from head to toe.

"Something akin to a spark. Warm. Bright. Shimmering. Constantly moving."

"Light and effervescent." A beat. "I'm vampire champagne?"

It's- kind of a fun thought, one he snorts softly even as he thinks it. Still that's- well it's safer to focus on than the full body once over from those damn intense green eyes.

"Mm. Not as bitter. If we're comparing to food...I'd say something more like a sun-warmed orange. Though that doesn't encompass it entirely."

Time to turn the tables, see what he'd actually picked up tonight. Besides Locus.

"The girl. What did she taste like to you?"

"Sunshine and cherry lemonade." He doesn't bat an eye, or think twice about the words that spring to mind. "Just. Warm, light, comfortable. A little sweet, a little bubbly."

Things that make him think of his adolescence and necking under the bleachers, of safer, simpler times.

Good. He'd noticed the details. Sometimes it's as simple as the emotion of the person they're feeding from. Emotion translated to taste? Often takes the form of familiar tastes, ones they associate with that emotion. Sunshine and cherry lemonade means the girl tasted sweet, innocent, warm. Likely of good intentions, and good health.

"And my blood?" Here's the trickier part of the quiz.

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