anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue pt 2

"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.

"Midnight and thunderstorms." A beat. Wait, what? Again he just...doesn't think about it (while intensely thinking about it and trying to avoid anything overtly sexual. It's not working) and lets the words (filtered with the help of delta) slip right through. "Heavy. Intense? Like a that dark chocolate with chilis in it. Except it's one of those super burning ones, that hurt a little? But in a good way."

Made him all kindsa hot and sweaty (if he could sweat) anyway. God. This is better than 'moonlight and orgasms' that was immediately on the back of his tongue.

Interesting. What was he not saying?

"Hm. Perhaps we're a good compliment for each other, then." Darkness and brightness. Heaviness and light. Bitter sharp against sweet and sparking. Blood tells all, in the end. They couldn't be more different, despite the things they did in fact hold in common.

Time would tell if that was a good thing. Regardless, he was almost smirking at York now.

Things he did not expect: That smirk. Also Delta apparently being able to reach out in the neural lace and focus enough to share his fluster and attraction over the bond he shares with Locus-

Along with his own digital mint wash of cool smugness at someone finally getting York to fluster. It doesn't happen often.

"That's pretty fortunate, huh? What are the odds?"

"It depends. The circumstances for turning someone can be unpredictable in scope."

Oh he feels it, thank you Delta. How strange it is, too. Being able to do that is something he tries for often. He doesn't have to. But feeling York's fluttering attraction across their bond is pleasant, and reassuring in a sense.

"It is, however, fortunate. At least I believe it to be."

"I'm glad it worked out for us, at least. Not just because I get to live and live as a kickass vampire." The tradeoff of social life and sunlight for living harder, better, faster, stronger is one he's willing to make. Hell he'd taken it just for the chance to keep living and the promise someone he'd always be around.

That he's connected to.

And attracted to.

Yeah this isn't gonna get awkward at all. "Always been more lucky than good, me."

"That's an extraordinary amount of luck, then."

Sounding vaguely amused, Locus leaves his chair again, this time to start peeling out of his club clothes once again. He intends to get comfortable before sunrise. York is free to pursue what he likes until dawn.

"So you're saying I'm pretty damn good? Aw." Right. Changing should be a thing- as. Soon as he remembers where his 'not club' shit is and he stops oogling the hell out of Sam's back.

Because god and damn.

Shirt. Right. Focus, York, focus. He peels out of his shirt and roots around in the bags they'd grabbed earlier in the evening till he finds a soft cotton shirt and some drawstring pants. It's no grifball T but he'd given that up a long time ago.

Once comfortable pants have been achieved for all, Locus waits a moment to draw on a shirt, moving instead to pick up a brush for a few cursory tugs through his hair. Best to do it now, before tying it up and out of the way for a day's sleep.

"Everything fits and is to your liking?" There's a brief glance over his shoulder.

That does get his attention- he'd been with people that had long hair enough to know that tending to it can be a pain but- a few tugs isn't gonna be enough.

And he'd liked touching it before.

"Um- yeah. It's all perfect." A beat. "Can I-"

He extends a hand to Locus, wiggling his fingers. "I can help, with your hair."

His hand pauses mid-pass, his brow furrowing for a brief moment of contemplation, before he draws the brush free and turns to hand it back to him. "If you like."

He's quickly learning that when Taylor asks him for something, it's somewhat difficult to find a reason to tell him 'no'.

"Thanks." Like he's being allowed more than just helping Locus out with a chore- and he is. It is and it isn't wanting to be useful. It is and it isn't wanting to serve-

He wants to touch and this is an acceptable(ish) way to get that need fulfilled.

Careful as anything he drags his fingers through Locus' hair, segmenting it before starting at the tip and working his way to the roots. He's never had long hair himself but a few of his girlfriends would let him do this for them and it's always...it's settling, in a weird way.

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