IC contact for lastvoyages

[cactusy]

[If I don't have an active post up, feel free to use this post to have your character call, videochat, text, or knock on Shaw's door.]

Comments

[cactusy]

Looks good to me.

[One hand goes to the gun, and the other goes lower: settling on Root's stomach, fingers trailing slowly downward. Can you stay still for a tattooing when you're being touched like this, Root? ]

[themostfun]

[ She'll be good and not take Shaw's hand. ]

Not gonna need both hands?

[cactusy]

[She will when she actually starts inking, but for now... Shaw just smiles, a tad deviously, and draws the needle end of the gun lightly against Root's skin as the fingers of her other hand dip under the waistband of Root's underwear.]

[themostfun]

[ Oooh, okay. Root smirks and relaxes further on Shaw's lap, all but purring under her touch and the gentle scrape of the needle on her skin. ]

[cactusy]

[Shaw still isn't actually tattooing here yet, but she does press the needle in a little harder as her fingers find what they're looking for and her thumb starts to circle slowly around Root's clit.]

We get our hands on some fading ink, and I won't need two hands to hold the thing steady, because it won't matter so much if I mess up.

[themostfun]

Mm. We'll have so much fun with it.

[ Root's eyes drift shut. ]

I'm gonna tie you up and tattoo you all over.

[cactusy]

Mmm. Practicing designs. Testing them out.

[She moves her thumb in a smooth, consistent rhythm, and draws the gun along Root's collarbone.]

Or just doing it because of how it feels.

[The pain; the ache.]

[themostfun]

[ Root sighs contentedly, all of shivering under so much attention. ]

I know how much you like it. The sting. The bleeding.

[ She puts a hand on Shaw's leg, clutching loosely at the fabric of her pants. ]

Patching you up.

[cactusy]

Nobody does any of it like you.

[Not the hurt, and not the patching up.]

[themostfun]

[ Turning her head to look at Shaw-- eyes half shut, pupils dilated--, Root reaches up to touch Shaw's cheek. ]

Because they don't love you. I do.

[cactusy]

C'mere. No, wait-- actually, stay there.

[Root can't move because she can't disturb the needle on her skin, obviously - so Shaw will just have to bend down to kiss her, curling over her with her back arched and her bare breasts brushing against Root's chest.]

[themostfun]

[ It's okay, Root loves a challenge. She stays where she is except for the hand on Shaw's cheek, which moves into her hair and makes a fist in it. She doesn't bother reining in a moan against Shaw's lips, because god it feels good to be skin to skin, however fleeting and soft the contact may be. ]

[cactusy]

You can say that as much as you want.

[Shaw mumbles the words against Root's lips, her eyes shut tight.]

But if it ever gets too hard or two weird because I can't say it back--

[themostfun]

It won't. [ Root grazes Shaw's lips with her teeth. ] I. love. you.

[ She has so much time to make up for, almost a year she could've spent telling Shaw she's the light of Root's life. ]

[cactusy]

[Slooooowly, her fingers trailing against Root's skin, Shaw pulls her hand out of Root's underwear, wipes it off with one of the antiseptic wipes Root had brought over (hygiene is important!), and holds onto the tattoo gun with both hands. Before doing anything with it, though, she angles her wrist towards Root: twisting it to make first the underside and then the top visible, giving her a full view of those root directory slash mark tattoos. A reminder.]

[themostfun]

[ (Hygiene is sexy!!! Evenas she pouts a little ad Shaw withdraws. They can get touchy that way again later.)

See, this is why it doesn't bother Root one iota that Shaw doesn't say the words to her: because Shaw shows her how she feels.

Root bites her bottom lip as she locks gazes with Shaw, and then relaxes so Shaw has all the room she needs to do her thing. ]

[cactusy]

You're beautiful.

[Those words are easy to say. They don't necessitate getting into the weeds about how much she feels and in what way, and whether her internal responses are sufficient enough for things like I love you. Root's beauty is a statement of objective fact.]

I love looking at you.

[And so is that. Both hands still on the gun, Shaw digs her pelvis down lightly against Root's, grinding into her.]

[themostfun]

[ Shaw is very good at showing it, holy heck, so Root gives her something to look at. She arches up underneath Shaw, tipping back her head to bare more of her neck. ]

I'm all yours, you know.

[cactusy]

[Shaw stills for a moment, her attention leaving the gun and going back to Root's face as she murmurs:]

Yeah. I know. Me, too. How the hell did that happen?

[themostfun]

We took chances.

[ Root doesn't believe in fate. She believes in the Machine, and she knows that She worked as hard as any of them, maybe even harder, to save Shaw. Root thanked Her over and over after She helped get a message out to Shaw, and so she thinks that this one god does look after Her people. None of that is destiny. It's the consequences of actions and decisions. It's the way the wave form collapsed to become observable reality. ]

And they brought us here. [ She reaches up to brush her fingers down Shaw's cheek. ] So mark me up, baby. I'm all yours.

[cactusy]

[Shaw slots a knee in between Root's legs, giving her just the slightest bit of steady pressure as she finally activates the gun in earnest. She'd been planning to do پایه‌ام (my foundation, my support, my root), the way they'd talked about soon after Root's arrival - but at the last minute, she starts inking out something else instead. It's still a Farsi word, but a shorter one, with fewer strokes: زنده .]

[themostfun]

[ It does feel really nice. Sharp, scratchy, and mild. More importantly, it's Shaw doing this. ]

That was fast. What did you go with?

[cactusy]

[She doesn't answer; she's not done. Giving Root another slow, rolling grind, she inks down a second word, also short: ایدر .

There. Now she's done.]

[themostfun]

[ Best little slap on the wrist ever. Root bites her lip until Shaw's done, and then waits a few extra seconds in case she's not actually done. ]

What'd you give me?

[ She can't see it on her neck without a mirror, and with a mirror, she can't read Farsi. ]

[cactusy]

[Shaw still doesn't answer - not until she's cleaned off the tattoo site and affixed a bandage to it. Only then does she settle back against Root, resting her ear right over her heartbeat.]

Two words.

[She says, listening to the th-thump.]

Zende means "alive". And idar--

[She pauses, briefly.]

It's an archaic word. Something I'd hear in the classical poetry my mom read to me when I was a kid, not a word anybody would actually use these days. But it means both "here", and "now". Present in place and in time.