[ Miorine doesn't like hotel rooms— maybe it's because she's never had much of a real home; they're too big, too cold despite all the pointlessly luxurious amenities. She's had enough cold to last a lifetime. Resorts and suites were never anything special, just simply another miserable constant in her life.
She's said very little since they'd left the event, too tired from schmoozing and posing and pretending every investor and journalist wasn't looking at her (and them, their company and brainchild) with paternal contempt.
Without a word she reaches up, grasping Suletta's shoulder between her fingers— standing on one limb like a flamingo as she undoes her shoe. Silently, she switches between feet and when that's done she leaves her shoes where they are (dead center in the middle of the room) and strips out of her clothes (no thank you's for Suletta's patience as a fixture).
Thousands of dollars sit on the floor in the form of satin and silk. Miorine faces away from her and tilts her head to the side, holding her hair up with one hand. ]
Take it off.
[ She is of course, talking about the jewelry she's still wearing— dangling diamond earrings and a delicate pendant draped across her neck.
There's a slow creeping flush scaling up her chest and into her hair, it'd been hidden by dim light and then explained away by stage lights. But now, Miorine acknowledges it for what it is. ]
[Suletta is uncomfortable. But then, she usually is. In or out of fancy clothes, she’s still most at home tucked in Aerial’s cockpit or cleaning the armor plates of her chassis until it shined. Making idle conversation, talking about her worries and hearing the comforting thrum of Aerial’s voice in the back of her head. Aerial isn’t here though, far away and safe in a hangar, and it would be a little while before she and Miorine returned. Instead she’d spent the evening fielding questions as best she could, trying not to stammer, and remembering to keep her head held high. She’d been too nervous to do much but drink water and stay tucked close to Miorine, who always seemed to be so confident and in control. But Miorine had gotten quieter when the party began to wind down and they were finally freed from it. This in itself wasn’t unusual — Miorine tended to be quiet most of the time, especially when she had a lot on her mind, and often gets a look on her face that makes Suletta think of the way atmospheric storms used to form on Mercury, all dark churning clouds. Lost in thought.
As a result of all of this, Suletta had gotten quiet too, her awkward and well-meaning attempts at small talk fading into nervous mumbling, then nothing at all the closer they got to their room. She visibly relaxes when they arrive, her shoulders falling into a familiar and comfortable slouch. The hotel is nice, nicer than most places she’d been, and she always gets distracted looking at the way everything shines — the shining gold of the bathroom faucets and the sleek lines of the furniture, how soft the bedding was.
Miorine’s hand on her shoulder makes her jump. She squeaks, straightens up immediately as if in expectation of chastisement, and then goes very still, not wanting her to topple over. She is already kneeling to pick up the discarded clothing when Miorine issues her command.]
Eh? Oh, um, sure. [Dutifully, she turns her attention to the clasp holding Miorine’s necklace together. The metal is warm from hours on her skin, and closer now she can smell her perfume. Her gaze becomes distant and a little distracted before Miorine’s voice snaps her back to reality. She freezes mid-necklace removal, certain all of a sudden that her thoughts had been read and that something (she was not sure what) terrible was going to happen, but then the words and their meaning catch up to her.]
M-M-m, [A moment to compose herself, and then, scandalized:] Miorine!
[As far as scolding goes, it’s hilariously tame.] You shouldn’t — [she realizes midway telling Miorine that she shouldn’t do anything was a useless gesture, and instead,] I’ll-I’ll get you water! You should drink water!
[She immediately abandons the task given to her to go search for the aforementioned water.]
[ She is so desensitized to Suletta's incessant fretting that she can hardly be bothered to respond or be bothered by it, especially in her inebriated state. Mostly, she's just vaguely annoyed (but that's more like her resting state, and not anything remarkable).
Miorine sighs, and then crawls into bed gracelessly. Between her general inclination to behave like a bridge troll when alone (or around Suletta) and the liquor, she can hardly be assed to care how the nicely made bed or pressed linens crumple under her knees and elbows. ]
Jeez, you're so loud and annoying. I just wanna' sleep, okay?
[ She falls like a starfish right into the middle of the bed, diamonds the size of berries sticking to her skin and jingling against one another. ]
I won't get a hangover, if that's what you're worried about.
Water, water, water, water… [Fixated on her task, Suletta mumbles the word to herself as she searches for a glass, and so Miorine’s griping barely registers. She approaches with a glass and a bottle of water from the mini fridge, still fully dressed and with a furrowed brow.
Surely Miorine knew best if she’d get a hangover, but…] B-b-but… you could be dehydrated. [She takes a breath. Calm, slow down, she thinks.] You should drink water. [She says finally, without stammering. Her tone is gentle, but resolute: she would not be swayed in this.] And… I have to finish taking off your jewelry. And you have to get ready for bed properly, or…or you’ll be cranky in the morning!
[There, she thinks, a little proud of herself. She reaches out to cautiously touch Miorine’s wrist.] Please?
[ Miorine sits up with the sudden force of a jack-in-the-box, finally wound up enough to spring forward. She opens her mouth, ready to tell Suletta that she's going to be cranky no matter what.
But then, whether out of guilt for taking this out on her or embarrassment that Suletta is technically right she freezes mid syllable. Miorine sighs tersely and reaches around her side to unhook the clasp of her bra. It falls away easily, leaving behind welts on her skin from a long night. ]
Fine.
[ Miorine takes the the bottle, not the glass, and chugs it furiously. Lines of water spill from the corners of her mouth and run down her neck, though she seems unbothered by the mess she's made.
When she's done she crushes the bottle between her hands. ]
I need you to shower with me. I don't want to slip— the last thing we need is a tabloid article about me getting concussed.
[ She stares off at something in the distance, and then she throws the bottle across the room.
[ With every second that passes Miorine forgets how any of this started.
That makes it much easier - she is patiently bold.
Miorine's kisses are still soft, just pecks scattered around Suletta's mouth and face. They're still sitting apart and all physical contact hinges on them extending their necks toward one another. It's a little painful for her- having to crane up to Suletta's face, but she knows that Suletta must be coaxed and given room to take a step backwards.
The room is just on the brink of beginning to grow dim- it's warm and she's slowly losing Suletta's outline to the dark. Later, Miorine will remember they were supposed to be studying and she'll be embarrassed about how cliche that is.
A kiss against the curve of Suletta's jaw is the furthest Miorine has gone,]
[Suletta will remember later, the moments that lead to this: the brief brushing of a hand there, or Miorine's voice when she'd leaned over her shoulder to point out a correction, how it had reverberated over the shell of her ear and made her distracted. For now, though, Miorine kisses her so gently, like she's something precious. This is the part that Suletta focuses on, at first. She has her eyes half-opening — remembering her first lesson about this, but torn between wanting to observe and gain the experience, and the feeling she gets when she closes her eyes, the darkness closing over her. It left only the feeling of Miorine's mouth on her skin. The sound of her breathing, the barely-there rustle of her clothing. Each of these things filled her with a warmth that was slow-building and almost syrupy, keeping her captured in it.
She is sitting very still, her breathing slowing by the minute. Her hands are on her knees, and she tilts her head down when Miorine cranes upward to meet her. The room is cast in twilight colors — she sees blue and purple and the moon-silver of Miorine's hair through her half-closed eyes.
When Miorine kisses the line of her jaw, a little noise escapes her, a quick intake of breath. Both of her eyes open now, and she gazes down at Miorine, her face slightly flushed.]
Um-
[She's afraid that overexplaining will cause her to lose her nerve, and so she merely scoots a little closer, then takes Miorine's hands in her own. She looks down at their laced fingers, then up to Miorine's face. Slowly, she turns one of her hands over, running her fingers along her palm.]
Would it be alright if I...
[She shrinks back some, at first, then leans forward, lowering her face to Miorine's. This time when she kisses her, they don't bump noses, and she doesn't miss her mouth.]
[ The spectrum of emotions involved in Suletta's deliberation is broadcast across her face. Miorine doesn't know quite how to respond either— she's no stranger to the act itself, but this version of it is new territory.
The initiative makes her smile. These days Miorine is more kind but she is still rarely warm, Suletta might not be able to see her smile but she might feel it, blossoming against Suletta's lips. Miorine's answer comes half muddled with a pleased sound. ]
Mhm.
[ She nods too, before instinctively tilting her face so they fit together easily.
Miorine lets Suletta play with her hands and kisses her harder. She pushes back in the way of leaning some of her weight into Suletta. ]
[So attuned to Miorine's moods, the dip and swell of them, she does feel the smile — if she keeps her eyes closed she can picture it. Miorine almost never smiled, so she had memorized the events when they did happen. Barely a lift of the corners of her mouth, a slight softening around her eyes. She feels proud that she had apparently done well in making her choice.
She also feels very warm when Miorine deepens the kiss, and her head is buzzing pleasantly in the aftermath. When she leans her weight into her, she doesn't resist. Suletta feels her body become pliant and loose in the wake of it, and she stares at Miorine, wide-eyed, though not frightened.]
I don't have to- [She starts, and flushes bright red.] Ah. Then...
[She debates with herself, then, her face screwing up in concentration and resolve, mimics what Miorine had done to her earlier, pressing a kiss against her jaw.]
[ It's cute. It makes Miorine angry how cute it is- Suletta's shy enthusiasm is endearing but it also lights a spark in Miorine that she doesn't expect. In some ways this is new for her too, she's as much of a teacher as she is a recipient after all.
It's difficult to keep her face straight when Suletta looks so serious about getting to first base. She sighs pleasantly and laughs in the same breath. The kiss is soft and leaves a warm spot in the shape of Suletta's mouth on her skin, a belated tingle runs up her spine, simple teenage excitement about the prospect of being touched and touching in turn.
Her hands slip from Suletta's but Miorine doesn't break skin to skin contact. Her palms run up Suletta's wrists and the length of her arms. There's an intentional pressure in her touch and eventually her hands come to wrap around her back. All the while she encourages Suletta's mouth with little kisses in return. Each kiss gets longer by just a fraction of a second and when she feels Suletta has found her pace Miorine throws another wrench into the fray by opening her mouth when they kiss. She nips Suletta's lip, a little excited and smug at how Suletta may react. ]
Suletta often doesn't sleep through the night, unaccustomed to the longer sleep and wake cycles of the school's artificial environment. She's awake for a reason that isn't just her standard bouts of insomnia, however, and presently is sitting on the steps leading to her bed, her thigh jumping nervously.
When she was away, Miorine's texts were always sparse compared to her own — truncated updates, brief complaints about a meeting or an executive. On occasion, she'd ask questions about (or demand to be told about, more like) Suletta's day in her usual blunt manner. She'd been able to gauge from this recent string of messages over the past several days — primarily coded threats about worthless bureaucracy, her headaches, and how she hoped the entire male species would be immolated via asteroid — that this business trip hadn't been going so well.
So Suletta had gotten an idea, one she hemmed and hawed over for a week, one she could not muster asking the other girls in Earth House about. Eventually she'd resigned herself to Secilia's judgment, needing the distance that a third party provided. Secilia, predictably, had laughed until she nearly cried, shooed Ryoji and Haro away, then made a number of comments that made Suletta sputter and go very red. But she had helped in the end, and even reassured her.
And so...]
Good evening, Miorine!
I hope that you're sleeping... If you aren't though, is it OK if we talked a little? I can't sleep again. It's strange without you here. Did your day end well?
there's no point in asking permission if you're already texting me.
[ it's curt, but if she didn't want to speak she wouldn't have stopped in the middle of her overly aggressive first person shooter.
Miorine has escaped to the confines of her dark hotel room; clothes are strewn about and there's half eaten room service (steak so rare it may as well still be breathing) sitting next to her bed. ]
[She takes a soothing breath. Reminds herself that if Miorine didn't want to respond, she wouldn't. She'd been on the receiving end of this before, and had seen Miorine ignore other messages from other people. She remembers too, that Miorine answered her often, and sought her out.
Suletta relaxes a little. She smiles.]
I'm sorry. I wish I were there - have you been eating? I know that you're doing your best!
[She twists a loose lock of hair around her finger.]
Ah, strange. Not bad, it's only... I'm used to sleeping beside you now. It's not as easy to fall asleep when you aren't here.
[The picture makes her feel better. It's a sign that Miorine is at the least remembering to take breaks. She was so often engrossed in her work, and forgot the basic elements of caring for herself. Suletta wants to ask more questions: if she's been drinking enough water, if she's had a headache, or if something in particular had upset her, but when she'd presented this series of concerns to Secilia, she'd made a face. Said that it would "kill the mood." Suletta is grateful for the distance that written messages provide. She's able to tailor her responses in the ways Secilia had proposed, instead.
Most of them, anyway. She was not nearly so bold. Or mischievous.]
I know. I try to tell myself that, but I wake up anyway. It's silly of me, right?
And, There's been something on my mind, too. I wanted to ask for your opinion.
[Miorine's gift arrives not to Earth House, but to her own dormitory room. It shows up not long after their phone discussion, and Suletta tries not to think about what it could possibly be all throughout class the day that it does — a valorous attempt that ends in failure. She's distracted all day thinking about it. Thinking about Miorine too, in the stupid and dreamy way that she usually did these days. The Earth House members are all surprised when she says her farewells as soon as they're all freed from the obligation of lessons. Usually Suletta stayed the evening, or close to it: she was always eager to stay and help with whatever chores were needed. When she shyly confesses to the other girls that Miorine was due to return, she rides out the giggles and questions (which she is vague in answering) with only a fraction of her usual embarrassment.
Suletta's mind has set itself on a single track. She makes a beeline to Miorine's room, brightening up at the sight of the package. She'd gotten it that morning, but she hadn't had the time to properly try it on.
The first anxious thought that hits her is, should I wait to get dressed when Miorine gets here? Or should I get dressed now, and surprise her?
Instinctively, she reaches for her phone to ask, of course. Miorine had ended their phone call in good spirits - there had been a change in her voice as they'd said goodnight, her words softened by affection. She wouldn't mind answering if Suletta asked. She almost pulls out her phone, stops at the last moment. Frowns. Then she stands in the mirror, and begins to get ready.
She would surprise her, she'd decided.
Time passes. Suletta takes her time getting dressed in a way she doesn't for class, lingering over the dress Miorine had picked out for her, pressing her face to it, smoothing it out on the bed. She wonders if Miorine knows the last time she'd received a gift was when she was eleven — her mother had flown back to Mercury, had given her a brisk kiss on the cheek, handed her a simple wrapped package. They had spent the whole day together — that had been the real gift. And then, after that, the gifts had dried up.
In the present, blowdrying her hair, she wonders if she should tell Miorine this. Her glance flickers back to the dress, and she decides: later. Maybe later.
The dress fits her well. It clings in all the places it should, and when she spins in it, it flutters outward like a blooming flower. She smiles at herself in the mirror.
She's nervous, but the bigger feeling is giddiness. It's the sort of anticipatory joy she had rarely been able to experience. This time, she would be able to move them forward.]
[ The trip home always went so much slower than the journey that took her away from it. Suitcase packed, notes written and spreadsheets organized always just a few hours before it was time to depart. She was terrible at packing, she rarely ever went anywhere before this and these days it wasn't as if she had someone to pack for her- that was until Suletta had taken one look at the crumpled blouses and un-ironed pants balled up and thrown into her needlessly expensive luggage. She'd practically begged Miorine to let her do it despite Miorine's many attempts to wave it away- what did it matter? She'd have the hotel staff steam her clothes when she got there anyway.
Eventually, Miorine had conceded. And later, she'd learned to appreciate the way Suletta neatly organized each piece of clothing, utilizing every nook and cranny of her suitcase in the most efficient way possible. Occasionally, there were little extras too: lavender picked from her garden and bottled to journey with her (for her nerves), protein bars in case she didn't have time to eat in-between meetings.
Sometimes, on particularly bad trips where it felt like everyone in the galaxy wanted nothing but to belittle her, she discovered these little manifestations of Suletta's sentiments and get a lump in her throat. When that passed she would feel grateful.
She's not looking when she walks through the door to her room so she doesn't immediately realize Suletta is there- assumes she'd been careless and forgot to turn the light off before she left, or that Suletta stopped by earlier and had done that very same thing. She's flinging her heels off and has already thrown her suitcase to the side to be dealt with later when she realizes- ]
You're here-
[ She looks like a deer caught in headlights even though Suletta was the one "trespassing". Miorine picked out the dress herself, thought about it deeply and sketched an image in her mind as to how it might suit Suletta but she finds herself unprepared still.
She tries not to look embarrassed. It makes her feel like a pre-pubescent boy who'd never felt the touch of a woman. ]
Nervously, Suletta smooths down the dress. She finds that this particular variant of nervousness (because she had many types of nervous) was not the unpleasant sort. It was coupled with the sort of bright feelings she associated with getting a question right on a quiz, or making someone laugh. Suletta tries not to laugh at Miorine, wondering why she found it funny. It was that she looked so lost, as if she had walked into the wrong room and had only just realized it.
"Welcome back," she says, and leans forward to give Miorine a brief hug and a kiss to her cheek, before she loses her nerve. Pulling back, she spins a little in the dress again, looking over her shoulder at Miorine.
"It's really nice. The fabric-" She blushes and has to look up to the ceiling, counting backward in her head before responding. "It's so soft. I don't think that I've ever worn anything this soft before."
Her smile turns wistful. "I like the color too. This is the second time." After a beat or two, she explains. "When I borrowed your dress, that one was red too."
She returns Suletta's embrace with an awkward arm, the other hanging lifelessly at her side, not really knowing what to do with it. Sex, making out, all those things based in passion and gratification were easy. Casual affection? That was difficult.
She'll blame her father for that too.
For a moment Suletta seems like a different person, but she corrects herself almost instantly; she's nothing but herself, just a version that's never had the proper environment to bloom in this way until now.
Miorine has to busy herself or else she'll give in to her own nervousness. She pulls off her blaze, almost lets it fall to the floor but realizes Suletta might take it upon herself to pick it up. She puts it on the back of her desk chair to be safe.
"You have a warm complexion so it makes sense you'd look good in red." She tugs on her collar, freeing the most constricting of the buttons- she moves onto her watch next, avoiding Suletta's gaze.
How convenient. Send me the details when you have them.
[ Those details do eventually arrive and it does end up being night time. Not that things like that actually matter in space outside of whatever is projected across the artificial ceilings on the stations speckling any given Front.
It's been some time since either of them have seen each other outside of their uniforms. It should be nostalgic but it feels a little uncanny, like deja vu. Miorine doesn't greet him, instead she reaches over with too much comfort and very little regard for his personal space.
Miorine zips up his jacket, irrationally annoyed at the fact that it's open. ]
[ he raises his hands in a show of surrender, a bemused smile playing on his face as she tugs up his jacket. it'll find its way down again in due time. ]
I think I picked well under short notice.
[ he shrugs, and then looks about their surroundings. various shopfronts flood his view, peddling everything from kitschy trinkets to formalwear. in truth, he was still impressed by the excesses of space. ]
It's funny, that for fifteen of the seventeen years she's been on this planet her father has barely acknowledged her existence. Not for lack of trust trying on her part.
There'd been the sucking up, and there'd been the rebellion— she'd tried bad grades, then good grades. She'd tried showing interest in what he did and it failed. She'd tried striking out on her own but had been met with nothing but pushback— isolated again, plans shredded to pieces and crushed beneath not even his feet, but the shiny loafers of his black suited goons.
But today, on her seventeenth birthday, after she'd been weighed, measured and sold to the highest bidder he'd spared her a glance and commented that her outfit didn't suit a girl of her age.
She always dressed like this: something that bordered between mature and promiscuous. It was some attempt at being taken seriously and thought she would never admit it, a way to get attention. It looks like it finally worked, but years too late.
Miorine keeps her glum stare on the view whizzing past her and tells him exactly that.
As she'd expected it wasn't very difficult to sneak away even despite this party being Thrown in her honor. It'd all been an excuse to broker deals and network after all— that's what most of her existence had consisted of, why would this be any different?
"I'm not going to jump." Miorine's nails tap out the beat to some song she'd heard on the way up to the restaurant's roof. Old men were allergic to the cold air it seemed and the rooftop bar had been left mostly unattended despite the whole of the restaurant being bought out for the occasion.
Until the approaching footsteps it'd just been her and the bartender minding his empty counter.
"I should hope not," Tilda's voice carries over, unruffled and easy, "it's a long drop. Lots of time for regret to settle in."
Her glibness aside, she approaches her new bride carefully. Well. "Bride" was perhaps giving the whole arrangement too much credit. Acquisition was the better term, though it was an unpleasant and callous comparison to make. She liked the girl, had liked her long before she'd made this devil's deal with her odious father. This was why she'd spent this amount of money — a sum most people would never be able to dream of, let alone see — on this marriage. It was why she'd avoided Miorine all evening, giving her space while she did the work of entertaining and fending off their guests. And work it had been. Banal, exhausting work. It was only the necessity of it that kept her smile fixed and polite with all the subtle digs and commentary on her happy marriage and young bride.
Right now she stands beside her at a distance. Tilda's dressed in an expensive white coat with dark gloves made of supple leather, and other than the high color in her cheeks appears unaffected by the cold. She takes a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and a silver lighter. Then she pauses.
"Do you mind if I...?"
And, after a beat,
"Would you like one? Wretched habit. I don't recommend picking it up. But it does take the edge off."
Miorine looks only when Tilda presents her poisonous peace offering. She's been out in the cold for hours now, face and fingers red from the last remnants of winter— they were due to have a spring wedding. Her dress offers no protection from the elements either: blue and backless.
"My generation doesn't smoke." It's said without any bite but the malice is there all the same. She's still getting used to being unkind to Tilda.
The years prior had been the opposite of all of this. What began as an effort to learn about her mother from a former colleague had turned into thoughtful conversations, trips to museums and an invitation to the hydroponic garden Miorine had so lovingly and quietly cultivated on her own. Two years of this: trust built from nothing, a consistent source of positive attention and concern for her well-being. And it had all been laid to waste in just a few months.
She blames her father most of all, but she's mad at Tilda too.
"Not unless you can put it in a light up USB anyway." She turns around but not to face Tilda. Miorine leans against the railing and pushes her weight against it just to hear the slightest creak of the metal bars under her weight.
A rueful smile at this. It's an exacting little barb — a reminder of the parts of Miorine she liked. She understands her anger, though she finds it immature all the same. Immediately, she berates herself for the thought. This had been for Miorine's benefit, she thinks. She tries to believe this as she pulls a cigarette out and lights it.
"I'm sure some do." She blows out smoke slowly. "At least from my side of the world. Better that you don't. I only have one here and there, on more stressful days."
Tilda keeps her stare focused on the twinkling city laid out beyond them. Miorine did not know how lucky she was, but that was fine. There was time. "I'm here because I thought you would be out here without a coat. How would you effectively express your moroseness, after all, if not by freezing to death in the chill?" She would offer her coat, though she knows it won't be accepted.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-01-08 02:15 am (UTC)She's said very little since they'd left the event, too tired from schmoozing and posing and pretending every investor and journalist wasn't looking at her (and them, their company and brainchild) with paternal contempt.
Without a word she reaches up, grasping Suletta's shoulder between her fingers— standing on one limb like a flamingo as she undoes her shoe. Silently, she switches between feet and when that's done she leaves her shoes where they are (dead center in the middle of the room) and strips out of her clothes (no thank you's for Suletta's patience as a fixture).
Thousands of dollars sit on the floor in the form of satin and silk. Miorine faces away from her and tilts her head to the side, holding her hair up with one hand. ]
Take it off.
[ She is of course, talking about the jewelry she's still wearing— dangling diamond earrings and a delicate pendant draped across her neck.
There's a slow creeping flush scaling up her chest and into her hair, it'd been hidden by dim light and then explained away by stage lights. But now, Miorine acknowledges it for what it is. ]
I'm drunk. I was sneaking drinks all night.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-08 02:51 am (UTC)As a result of all of this, Suletta had gotten quiet too, her awkward and well-meaning attempts at small talk fading into nervous mumbling, then nothing at all the closer they got to their room. She visibly relaxes when they arrive, her shoulders falling into a familiar and comfortable slouch. The hotel is nice, nicer than most places she’d been, and she always gets distracted looking at the way everything shines — the shining gold of the bathroom faucets and the sleek lines of the furniture, how soft the bedding was.
Miorine’s hand on her shoulder makes her jump. She squeaks, straightens up immediately as if in expectation of chastisement, and then goes very still, not wanting her to topple over. She is already kneeling to pick up the discarded clothing when Miorine issues her command.]
Eh? Oh, um, sure. [Dutifully, she turns her attention to the clasp holding Miorine’s necklace together. The metal is warm from hours on her skin, and closer now she can smell her perfume. Her gaze becomes distant and a little distracted before Miorine’s voice snaps her back to reality. She freezes mid-necklace removal, certain all of a sudden that her thoughts had been read and that something (she was not sure what) terrible was going to happen, but then the words and their meaning catch up to her.]
M-M-m, [A moment to compose herself, and then, scandalized:] Miorine!
[As far as scolding goes, it’s hilariously tame.] You shouldn’t — [she realizes midway telling Miorine that she shouldn’t do anything was a useless gesture, and instead,] I’ll-I’ll get you water! You should drink water!
[She immediately abandons the task given to her to go search for the aforementioned water.]
no subject
Date: 2023-01-08 03:54 am (UTC)Miorine sighs, and then crawls into bed gracelessly. Between her general inclination to behave like a bridge troll when alone (or around Suletta) and the liquor, she can hardly be assed to care how the nicely made bed or pressed linens crumple under her knees and elbows. ]
Jeez, you're so loud and annoying. I just wanna' sleep, okay?
[ She falls like a starfish right into the middle of the bed, diamonds the size of berries sticking to her skin and jingling against one another. ]
I won't get a hangover, if that's what you're worried about.
no subject
Date: 2023-01-08 04:12 am (UTC)Surely Miorine knew best if she’d get a hangover, but…] B-b-but… you could be dehydrated. [She takes a breath. Calm, slow down, she thinks.] You should drink water. [She says finally, without stammering. Her tone is gentle, but resolute: she would not be swayed in this.] And… I have to finish taking off your jewelry. And you have to get ready for bed properly, or…or you’ll be cranky in the morning!
[There, she thinks, a little proud of herself. She reaches out to cautiously touch Miorine’s wrist.] Please?
no subject
Date: 2023-01-08 04:37 pm (UTC)But then, whether out of guilt for taking this out on her or embarrassment that Suletta is technically right she freezes mid syllable. Miorine sighs tersely and reaches around her side to unhook the clasp of her bra. It falls away easily, leaving behind welts on her skin from a long night. ]
Fine.
[ Miorine takes the the bottle, not the glass, and chugs it furiously. Lines of water spill from the corners of her mouth and run down her neck, though she seems unbothered by the mess she's made.
When she's done she crushes the bottle between her hands. ]
I need you to shower with me. I don't want to slip— the last thing we need is a tabloid article about me getting concussed.
[ She stares off at something in the distance, and then she throws the bottle across the room.
It just barely misses the trash can. ]
Our market value would drop within the hour.
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Date: 2023-06-09 02:27 am (UTC)That makes it much easier - she is patiently bold.
Miorine's kisses are still soft, just pecks scattered around Suletta's mouth and face. They're still sitting apart and all physical contact hinges on them extending their necks toward one another. It's a little painful for her- having to crane up to Suletta's face, but she knows that Suletta must be coaxed and given room to take a step backwards.
The room is just on the brink of beginning to grow dim- it's warm and she's slowly losing Suletta's outline to the dark. Later, Miorine will remember they were supposed to be studying and she'll be embarrassed about how cliche that is.
A kiss against the curve of Suletta's jaw is the furthest Miorine has gone,]
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Date: 2023-06-09 04:11 am (UTC)She is sitting very still, her breathing slowing by the minute. Her hands are on her knees, and she tilts her head down when Miorine cranes upward to meet her. The room is cast in twilight colors — she sees blue and purple and the moon-silver of Miorine's hair through her half-closed eyes.
When Miorine kisses the line of her jaw, a little noise escapes her, a quick intake of breath. Both of her eyes open now, and she gazes down at Miorine, her face slightly flushed.]
Um-
[She's afraid that overexplaining will cause her to lose her nerve, and so she merely scoots a little closer, then takes Miorine's hands in her own. She looks down at their laced fingers, then up to Miorine's face. Slowly, she turns one of her hands over, running her fingers along her palm.]
Would it be alright if I...
[She shrinks back some, at first, then leans forward, lowering her face to Miorine's. This time when she kisses her, they don't bump noses, and she doesn't miss her mouth.]
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Date: 2023-06-10 04:48 am (UTC)The initiative makes her smile. These days Miorine is more kind but she is still rarely warm, Suletta might not be able to see her smile but she might feel it, blossoming against Suletta's lips. Miorine's answer comes half muddled with a pleased sound. ]
Mhm.
[ She nods too, before instinctively tilting her face so they fit together easily.
Miorine lets Suletta play with her hands and kisses her harder. She pushes back in the way of leaning some of her weight into Suletta. ]
You don't have to ask next time.
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Date: 2023-06-12 01:53 am (UTC)She also feels very warm when Miorine deepens the kiss, and her head is buzzing pleasantly in the aftermath. When she leans her weight into her, she doesn't resist. Suletta feels her body become pliant and loose in the wake of it, and she stares at Miorine, wide-eyed, though not frightened.]
I don't have to- [She starts, and flushes bright red.] Ah. Then...
[She debates with herself, then, her face screwing up in concentration and resolve, mimics what Miorine had done to her earlier, pressing a kiss against her jaw.]
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Date: 2023-06-14 10:52 pm (UTC)It's difficult to keep her face straight when Suletta looks so serious about getting to first base. She sighs pleasantly and laughs in the same breath. The kiss is soft and leaves a warm spot in the shape of Suletta's mouth on her skin, a belated tingle runs up her spine, simple teenage excitement about the prospect of being touched and touching in turn.
Her hands slip from Suletta's but Miorine doesn't break skin to skin contact. Her palms run up Suletta's wrists and the length of her arms. There's an intentional pressure in her touch and eventually her hands come to wrap around her back. All the while she encourages Suletta's mouth with little kisses in return. Each kiss gets longer by just a fraction of a second and when she feels Suletta has found her pace Miorine throws another wrench into the fray by opening her mouth when they kiss. She nips Suletta's lip, a little excited and smug at how Suletta may react. ]
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From:horny parallel universe
Date: 2023-06-21 01:06 am (UTC)Suletta often doesn't sleep through the night, unaccustomed to the longer sleep and wake cycles of the school's artificial environment. She's awake for a reason that isn't just her standard bouts of insomnia, however, and presently is sitting on the steps leading to her bed, her thigh jumping nervously.
When she was away, Miorine's texts were always sparse compared to her own — truncated updates, brief complaints about a meeting or an executive. On occasion, she'd ask questions about (or demand to be told about, more like) Suletta's day in her usual blunt manner. She'd been able to gauge from this recent string of messages over the past several days — primarily coded threats about worthless bureaucracy, her headaches, and how she hoped the entire male species would be immolated via asteroid — that this business trip hadn't been going so well.
So Suletta had gotten an idea, one she hemmed and hawed over for a week, one she could not muster asking the other girls in Earth House about. Eventually she'd resigned herself to Secilia's judgment, needing the distance that a third party provided. Secilia, predictably, had laughed until she nearly cried, shooed Ryoji and Haro away, then made a number of comments that made Suletta sputter and go very red. But she had helped in the end, and even reassured her.
And so...]
Good evening, Miorine!
I hope that you're sleeping... If you aren't though, is it OK if we talked a little? I can't sleep again.
It's strange without you here.
Did your day end well?
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Date: 2023-06-21 02:30 am (UTC)[ it's curt, but if she didn't want to speak she wouldn't have stopped in the middle of her overly aggressive first person shooter.
Miorine has escaped to the confines of her dark hotel room; clothes are strewn about and there's half eaten room service (steak so rare it may as well still be breathing) sitting next to her bed. ]
Better than yesterday.
But it still SUCKED
[ she's typing for quite a bit. ]
Strange how?
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Date: 2023-06-21 04:55 am (UTC)[She takes a soothing breath. Reminds herself that if Miorine didn't want to respond, she wouldn't. She'd been on the receiving end of this before, and had seen Miorine ignore other messages from other people. She remembers too, that Miorine answered her often, and sought her out.
Suletta relaxes a little. She smiles.]
I'm sorry. I wish I were there - have you been eating? I know that you're doing your best!
[She twists a loose lock of hair around her finger.]
Ah, strange. Not bad, it's only...
I'm used to sleeping beside you now. It's not as easy to fall asleep when you aren't here.
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Date: 2023-06-21 12:44 pm (UTC)[ she sends a picture of her half consumed room service as proof. ]
it's weird for me too.
But I'll be back in a few days. It's nothing you should lose sleep over
Especially when there's so much for you to do.
[ but it does make her happy. If she was a different type of girl she might giggle (but she's not) ]
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Date: 2023-06-21 03:04 pm (UTC)[The picture makes her feel better. It's a sign that Miorine is at the least remembering to take breaks. She was so often engrossed in her work, and forgot the basic elements of caring for herself. Suletta wants to ask more questions: if she's been drinking enough water, if she's had a headache, or if something in particular had upset her, but when she'd presented this series of concerns to Secilia, she'd made a face. Said that it would "kill the mood." Suletta is grateful for the distance that written messages provide. She's able to tailor her responses in the ways Secilia had proposed, instead.
Most of them, anyway. She was not nearly so bold. Or mischievous.]
I know. I try to tell myself that, but I wake up anyway.
It's silly of me, right?
And,
There's been something on my mind, too.
I wanted to ask for your opinion.
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From:horny parallel universe... 2!!!
Date: 2023-06-27 05:55 am (UTC)Suletta's mind has set itself on a single track. She makes a beeline to Miorine's room, brightening up at the sight of the package. She'd gotten it that morning, but she hadn't had the time to properly try it on.
The first anxious thought that hits her is, should I wait to get dressed when Miorine gets here? Or should I get dressed now, and surprise her?
Instinctively, she reaches for her phone to ask, of course. Miorine had ended their phone call in good spirits - there had been a change in her voice as they'd said goodnight, her words softened by affection. She wouldn't mind answering if Suletta asked. She almost pulls out her phone, stops at the last moment. Frowns. Then she stands in the mirror, and begins to get ready.
She would surprise her, she'd decided.
Time passes. Suletta takes her time getting dressed in a way she doesn't for class, lingering over the dress Miorine had picked out for her, pressing her face to it, smoothing it out on the bed. She wonders if Miorine knows the last time she'd received a gift was when she was eleven — her mother had flown back to Mercury, had given her a brisk kiss on the cheek, handed her a simple wrapped package. They had spent the whole day together — that had been the real gift. And then, after that, the gifts had dried up.
In the present, blowdrying her hair, she wonders if she should tell Miorine this. Her glance flickers back to the dress, and she decides: later. Maybe later.
The dress fits her well. It clings in all the places it should, and when she spins in it, it flutters outward like a blooming flower. She smiles at herself in the mirror.
She's nervous, but the bigger feeling is giddiness. It's the sort of anticipatory joy she had rarely been able to experience. This time, she would be able to move them forward.]
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Date: 2023-07-18 05:26 pm (UTC)Eventually, Miorine had conceded. And later, she'd learned to appreciate the way Suletta neatly organized each piece of clothing, utilizing every nook and cranny of her suitcase in the most efficient way possible. Occasionally, there were little extras too: lavender picked from her garden and bottled to journey with her (for her nerves), protein bars in case she didn't have time to eat in-between meetings.
Sometimes, on particularly bad trips where it felt like everyone in the galaxy wanted nothing but to belittle her, she discovered these little manifestations of Suletta's sentiments and get a lump in her throat. When that passed she would feel grateful.
She's not looking when she walks through the door to her room so she doesn't immediately realize Suletta is there- assumes she'd been careless and forgot to turn the light off before she left, or that Suletta stopped by earlier and had done that very same thing. She's flinging her heels off and has already thrown her suitcase to the side to be dealt with later when she realizes- ]
You're here-
[ She looks like a deer caught in headlights even though Suletta was the one "trespassing". Miorine picked out the dress herself, thought about it deeply and sketched an image in her mind as to how it might suit Suletta but she finds herself unprepared still.
She tries not to look embarrassed. It makes her feel like a pre-pubescent boy who'd never felt the touch of a woman. ]
I'm home.
[ She announces belatedly. ]
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Date: 2023-07-21 01:27 am (UTC)"Welcome back," she says, and leans forward to give Miorine a brief hug and a kiss to her cheek, before she loses her nerve. Pulling back, she spins a little in the dress again, looking over her shoulder at Miorine.
"It's really nice. The fabric-" She blushes and has to look up to the ceiling, counting backward in her head before responding. "It's so soft. I don't think that I've ever worn anything this soft before."
Her smile turns wistful. "I like the color too. This is the second time." After a beat or two, she explains. "When I borrowed your dress, that one was red too."
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Date: 2023-07-21 02:36 pm (UTC)She'll blame her father for that too.
For a moment Suletta seems like a different person, but she corrects herself almost instantly; she's nothing but herself, just a version that's never had the proper environment to bloom in this way until now.
Miorine has to busy herself or else she'll give in to her own nervousness. She pulls off her blaze, almost lets it fall to the floor but realizes Suletta might take it upon herself to pick it up. She puts it on the back of her desk chair to be safe.
"You have a warm complexion so it makes sense you'd look good in red." She tugs on her collar, freeing the most constricting of the buttons- she moves onto her watch next, avoiding Suletta's gaze.
"I'm glad you like it. I picked well."
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From:we're the new face of failure, prettier and younger but not any better off
Date: 2023-06-28 07:43 pm (UTC)Send me the details when you have them.
[ Those details do eventually arrive and it does end up being night time. Not that things like that actually matter in space outside of whatever is projected across the artificial ceilings on the stations speckling any given Front.
It's been some time since either of them have seen each other outside of their uniforms. It should be nostalgic but it feels a little uncanny, like deja vu. Miorine doesn't greet him, instead she reaches over with too much comfort and very little regard for his personal space.
Miorine zips up his jacket, irrationally annoyed at the fact that it's open. ]
A mall? Cliche, but beggars can't be choosers.
meeee and youuuu setting in a honeymoon
Date: 2023-06-29 05:25 pm (UTC)I think I picked well under short notice.
[ he shrugs, and then looks about their surroundings. various shopfronts flood his view, peddling everything from kitschy trinkets to formalwear. in truth, he was still impressed by the excesses of space. ]
Are you hungry?
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Date: 2023-07-22 11:27 pm (UTC)There'd been the sucking up, and there'd been the rebellion— she'd tried bad grades, then good grades. She'd tried showing interest in what he did and it failed. She'd tried striking out on her own but had been met with nothing but pushback— isolated again, plans shredded to pieces and crushed beneath not even his feet, but the shiny loafers of his black suited goons.
But today, on her seventeenth birthday, after she'd been weighed, measured and sold to the highest bidder he'd spared her a glance and commented that her outfit didn't suit a girl of her age.
She always dressed like this: something that bordered between mature and promiscuous. It was some attempt at being taken seriously and thought she would never admit it, a way to get attention. It looks like it finally worked, but years too late.
Miorine keeps her glum stare on the view whizzing past her and tells him exactly that.
As she'd expected it wasn't very difficult to sneak away even despite this party being Thrown in her honor. It'd all been an excuse to broker deals and network after all— that's what most of her existence had consisted of, why would this be any different?
"I'm not going to jump." Miorine's nails tap out the beat to some song she'd heard on the way up to the restaurant's roof. Old men were allergic to the cold air it seemed and the rooftop bar had been left mostly unattended despite the whole of the restaurant being bought out for the occasion.
Until the approaching footsteps it'd just been her and the bartender minding his empty counter.
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Date: 2023-07-23 12:02 am (UTC)Her glibness aside, she approaches her new bride carefully. Well. "Bride" was perhaps giving the whole arrangement too much credit. Acquisition was the better term, though it was an unpleasant and callous comparison to make. She liked the girl, had liked her long before she'd made this devil's deal with her odious father. This was why she'd spent this amount of money — a sum most people would never be able to dream of, let alone see — on this marriage. It was why she'd avoided Miorine all evening, giving her space while she did the work of entertaining and fending off their guests. And work it had been. Banal, exhausting work. It was only the necessity of it that kept her smile fixed and polite with all the subtle digs and commentary on her happy marriage and young bride.
Right now she stands beside her at a distance. Tilda's dressed in an expensive white coat with dark gloves made of supple leather, and other than the high color in her cheeks appears unaffected by the cold. She takes a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and a silver lighter. Then she pauses.
"Do you mind if I...?"
And, after a beat,
"Would you like one? Wretched habit. I don't recommend picking it up. But it does take the edge off."
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Date: 2023-07-23 12:52 am (UTC)"My generation doesn't smoke." It's said without any bite but the malice is there all the same. She's still getting used to being unkind to Tilda.
The years prior had been the opposite of all of this. What began as an effort to learn about her mother from a former colleague had turned into thoughtful conversations, trips to museums and an invitation to the hydroponic garden Miorine had so lovingly and quietly cultivated on her own. Two years of this: trust built from nothing, a consistent source of positive attention and concern for her well-being. And it had all been laid to waste in just a few months.
She blames her father most of all, but she's mad at Tilda too.
"Not unless you can put it in a light up USB anyway." She turns around but not to face Tilda. Miorine leans against the railing and pushes her weight against it just to hear the slightest creak of the metal bars under her weight.
"Why are you here?"
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Date: 2023-07-23 01:06 am (UTC)"I'm sure some do." She blows out smoke slowly. "At least from my side of the world. Better that you don't. I only have one here and there, on more stressful days."
Tilda keeps her stare focused on the twinkling city laid out beyond them. Miorine did not know how lucky she was, but that was fine. There was time. "I'm here because I thought you would be out here without a coat. How would you effectively express your moroseness, after all, if not by freezing to death in the chill?" She would offer her coat, though she knows it won't be accepted.
"Would you like to know why I did it?"
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