overjoyed_logs | [closed] various prompts

[Any laugh or genuine emotion that she can get out of him is a victory in her mind, because it proves that he's more than just a thing. Objects don't find things funny, even AIs are only programmed to do so within certain parameters, can't determine their own sense of humor.

So it's a victory, one that she holds on to as she settles in the cockpit, getting a little blood on the seat but that's mostly because her thigh is still bleeding and she's going to have to deal with that at some point. For now, she chats with the AI, monitoring their surrounds for anyone else who wants to pick a fight, and finding herself a little relieved that there's only bodies and wreckage outside.

At some point, a few of the people that Steph dealt with manage to crawl into a vehicle and drive off, but she isn't too concerned. If anything, having someone relay back what happened makes a follow up less likely.

When she hears Giovanni's voice, she swivels around in the chair, offering him a smile.]

Twenty minutes. A lot quicker than I expected since they'll have to drive.

[Even Company ships can't really handle the Badlands.]

[And it's just as well, perhaps, that they manage to drag themselves into their vehicles and make a hasty exit before Giovanni catches sight of them-- it might stir things in him all over again, entice him to go out and finish the job. Had he seen to them all personally, not a one would have been left alive, after all. But he doesn't see that, and when he enters the only sight to be seen beyond the cockpit is the vast, barren expanse of the badlands, the ground redstained with blood in places. The decimated corpses he'd left in his wake.

He takes no notice of that, leans back against the doorway in a manner that's almost (almost) casual, hips slightly cocked. Again, wearing her clothes, the traces of violence washed clean from his face, he almost passes for normal.]

I see.

[His voice is smooth with indifference, and he wonders vaguely, for just a moment, who they'll send out to replace his dead Handler. Whether they'd be able to drum anyone up at such short notice, in an emergency situation. Whether any of the blame for that particular death will be directed towards him. But it's a fleeting thought of little consequence, and instead he turns his attention back to the woman in the cockpit, drawn by the heady scent of her still-seeping blood.]

Where did you learn to fight like that? It's not a standard skill, for a pilot. If you don't mind my asking, Ma'am.

[And there's a small implication in that-- even during those fevered movements of carnage and bloodshed, he'd kept her in his awareness as best he could. Hadn't been acting entirely without reason, without thought.]

[This what she wanted to avoid, hoping that maybe Giovanni would be too shackled by the rules trained into him to ask about at she'd managed to do. And she knows that if she refused to answer he'd accept it with little question, he'd still wonder, sure, but he wouldn't press it.

But she doesn't want to give him orders just to avoid difficult topics, not when it'd make her just as bad as a Handler.

Still, she can't help sighing, scrubbing a hand over her face as she looks out at the wasteland.]

Can this stay between you and me?

[She has no plans to tell him that she has no memory, but she still wants to be careful about what she says, in case it'll put him in a difficult position with higher ups.]

[She's right, of course-- should she have chosen to tell him it was none of his business and that he ought not to have asked, he'd accept it unquestioningly, would apologise for his indiscretion. But she doesn't, and though the slight pause between her answer and his question, the way she scrubs at her face, the subtle language of her body all tell him that perhaps he shouldn't have asked, she does respond. Doesn't shut him down right off the bat.]

Of course.

[More a request than an order, yes, but he'll choose to take it as such, if only because it binds him more completely to confidentiality.]

And...if I shouldn't have asked, there's no need to provide an answer at all.

No, it's okay. You can ask.

[This isn't just about a simple question, because she wants him to know she isn't even going to reprimand or tattle on him for stepping out of line. If he has questions, he can ask them and she won't shut him down, even if the answer is difficult.]

It's just that I don't know. [She smiles, but it's hesitant, unsure.] I've never done anything like that before.

[And her answer, it surprises him. It's something that subtly shows around the edges of his expression, the very slight widening of his strangely-coloured eyes. There's a slight delay before he responds, slightly cautious, unsure of whether he's overstepping the bounds despite her insistence that he's allowed to ask.]

...Instinctive, perhaps? Although...if you hadn't said that, I would have thought you'd received some kind of training.

[His entire focus hadn't been on her, no, but there was something in it that seemed controlled to him. Clean.]

[There are things that feel natural to her, as if she's known how to do it all her life despite having no memory of learning, and this is just another one of those things. Except it makes less sense than knowing how to fly, or sew, or move through a yoga sequence perfectly.]

It feels instinctive, like if I thought about it too hard I'd lose it.

[It's weird to be so honest with someone she hardly knows, but she can't think of any lie that would fit. Company training isn't that comprehensive, not even for Enforcers.]

I see.

[And there's a part of him that thinks he does-- the Dogs, to some extent they'd known what to do, how to act even in those first few moments of opening their eyes, being told - immediately - to kill. All except him anyway, but that's a thought he pushes down hard, locks down tight, doesn't want to remember. The point is, though, they'd been made for it. It was in them, down to the bones. He's not entirely convinced a Company pilot could say the same. Not ordinarily.

But it's not his place to overthink or ask too many questions.]

If it comes to you so naturally, it's a pity you didn't choose a different career. Imagine what you could do with some training.

[He flashes a quick smile, there and then gone again, but there's still that feeling on him. ike something isn't quite adding up.]

[It doesn't feel like a good answer to her, either, but she can't exactly be open about the rest of what's going on, not when she has a feeling that if questioned, Giovanni would be obligated to snitch.]

I happen to like my job, and that was kinda scary.

[Her reaction, the way she looked alive after the fight was over probably doesn't suggest scary, but it is a little unsettling in retrospect.]

[No-- there'd been a look on her then, a scent, something he knows, like recognising like and there'd been something in that, something bright and strange. But this is the answer she gives, and he isn't going to press or pry outside the boundaries of what she's given him (already too much, she could have just told him to shut up and keep out of the way).

So he dips his head. Shrugs.]

Suit yourself, I suppose. It's important, I'm sure, to enjoy what you do.

[And this time his smile is a little sharp, all teeth.]

I had fun. It's been a good day.

[There's a bit of a reversal for a second, where she wants to ask about the destruction he caused, the enjoyment that was so clear when he was viciously hurting people.

But she's not sure she wants to know.]

Is that what you do for the Company?

[Slowly, he nods.]

Yes. That kind of thing, it's what I was made for. Although it isn't always quite as exciting as it was today.

[Sometimes he sticks to using weapons rather than his bare hands, or kills discreetly, but there's something in doing it this way that shines that much brighter for him, makes it that much more fun. Again, he smiles.]

And other kinds of things come up. Bodyguard stints and the like. Transportation duties, playing guard dog, which I'm sure is all they were hoping would happen today.

[There's a brief pause then, as though he's uncertain of whether he should say anything or not, whether it's appropriate, but ultimately he decides it's probably okay because--]

And then there's Mister Kendry, of course.

Of course.

[There's something a little wry in her tone, but that seems the safest thing to comment on, rather than dealing with all the violence that surrounds Giovanni.

There's something itching in the back of her mind, about killing, but she buries it for now because she feels like she has enough to deal with right now.]

Do you like working for Rhys?

[It's pretty clear that he enjoys the violence, but she feels like she should check the rest, since he isn't really able to speak for himself.]

[It's a question that has him frowning, just slightly, the smallest flicker of discomfort discernible in his face because that kind of question, it's not something he's accustomed to answering. His own likes and dislikes, they don't really come into it. There are things he enjoys, things he's been conditioned towards and which sing in his bones and open up a strange dark space in him, red and pulsing, and behind all that there's something else, the small sick tremor of what he had been, the way he started out but--

-- well. With Rhys, it's a little more complicated.

When he answers, it's with some of his earlier reticence, the subservience expected of him.]

He's a Kendry. It's my duty to do my best for him. To do what he wants.

[She sees it, the way he closes off a little, losing some of that freedom, but she isn't going to let go that easily.]

Hey, if you don't tell anyone I helped you beat up those assholes, I won't tell Rhys how you really feel?

[It's a trade that's pretty fair, in her opinion, because she'd really rather not have some Enforcers asking how she could do what she did.]

[There's a moment of hesitation then, some more of that thrumming tension, a false start where his lips part as though to answer, then close again. But then finally there's that quick darting smile, there and then gone, and he shrugs.]

I won't say anything, if that's what you want Ma'am. I'm not above taking credit for your handiwork, hahah.

[A pause, just the length of a heartbeat, and then--]

...I don't mind it. He's less tedious than some of the Company executives I'm assigned to. But...it's confusing. He's confusing. I don't really understand why he keeps putting in requests for me when half the time he has no need of me at all.

I'd appreciate that.

[There's a quirk of a smile in return, since it lifts a bit of weight off her shoulders, but she's more interested about his response to her question regarding Rhys.

And although less tedious is a curious way to put things, it's good to hear that he doesn't hate spending time with Rhys. The more normal experiences Gio can get, the better.]

It's because he considers you a friend. That's why he's never used the Dog Bite, either.

[Again, his brows pull together in a frown, and the confusion on his face, it's an obvious thing.]

But that doesn't make any sense. I'm not his friend. You can't befriend something like me. I think he's...confused. Doesn't really understand what he's dealing with.

[Too much inbreeding among the Nine, perhaps...]

Maybe he doesn't.

[She can admit to that, since she has a feeling that Rhys probably hasn't seen Giovanni in action, doesn't quite realize the extent of what's happening beneath the surface. Rhys is a good friend, but he's not the most observant.]

But I'm pretty sure he'd agree with me that you're a person, not a thing. That's why he can consider you a friend.

[There's a moment then, when the obedient facade crumbles a little further, frustration shining through underneath, and his tongue clicks sharp against his teeth. A sly roll of the eyes.]

Then you're both as deluded as each other. I am a thing-- I'm a weapon, a hound of war, if you will. I'm not like you. Believing differently is foolish and dangerous for the both of you. You saw what I did out there. That's what I'm for. That's what I do. Not...playing tea parties and making friends.

[He's frustrated and there's a sharpness there that she's wary of, but she keeps her own composure steady.]

I saw what you did, I know you're dangerous. [It doesn't mean she can't be friends with him, and just like the thrill of the fight there's something familiar in that thought, as though she's had it before.] But you didn't hurt me.

No, I didn't.

[And when he smiles this time it's barely a smile at all, something sharp and hollow and strange.]

Dogs don't bite their masters. At least, not the ones who've been properly trained.

[That's a little more unsettling, but she swallows down the discomfort. This isn't about her.]

I'm just a pilot.

[Not a Handler, certainly not a master. Something tells her that he could have easily written her off as collateral damage if he'd wanted, especially after the Handler warned her to stay away.]

I wasn't about to go spoiling my perfect track record, now.

[But there's some truth in what she says-- he could have killed her, written her off just as she surmises, but he didn't. It's something he easily passes off as training and the desire to avoid a cut from the Bite, to have any small blemish against his name when among the Dogs he's well known for his control, for his willingness to be controlled.

But he hadn't wanted to kill her. A small kernel of truth that he chooses not to look at or examine to closely or even consciously acknowledge. But it's there in him, dimly, all the same.]

Besides. You may be a pilot, but you're still human, and I'm still a Dog. I'm still beneath you. There's no getting away from that.

Edited 2017-02-06 13:01 (UTC)

[Whether he wants to acknowledge those feelings or not, just the fact he has a perfect track record counts as a point in her favor, she feels. It means that he isn't just some mindless weapon to be tossed at the enemy, not if he can distinguish between friend and foe.

Although the rest of what he says makes her expression twist.]

You can call yourself what you want, but I'm never gonna look down on you.

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