In terms of inventions, it's pretty high up there.
[ There's not enough of a supply on the ship for Cash to drink as much as he'd want to, normally. Which means that he's both drinking less and smoking less than he used to. No smoking at all, in fact, because of the lack of cigarettes. It's kind of a bummer for him, but he'd never complain about either. ]
[ and maybe she... has been storing away some here and there for moments like this one when sleep is either elusive or she actually doesn't want to drift off for fear of what will happen if she closes her eyes. ]
[ Dark and murky is half the selection under the bar, at least, that isn't the fruitihol from their forest planet stop. Cash grabs a bottle of something that's got a dark amber ring and makes his way to Wynonna's room, poking his head in. ]
[ she doesn't have any real hesitation about appearing to him like she is now — hair swept back from her face and up into a ponytail, dressed in clothes that are clearly intended more for the training room that she'd come from. if she's not sleeping, she'd figured maybe she could just punch it out for a while, hit a bag enough times to put her muscles in a limp state and then... pass out.
she's sitting at the foot of her bed when he shows, bracing her hands on the edge of the mattress as she hunches her shoulders forward. ]
Hey, you found me. [ the edge of her mouth twists up into a weak attempt at a smile. ] I mean, it's not a huge ship, so... process of elimination, really.
[ Cash offers a tired smile. He's got dark shadows under his eyes that have never really been there before, thanks to his now-absent dream magic, and his body language is more stiff than usual, but he's here. Wearing a simple shirt, and the black shorts he uses for exercising or just slovenly existing in.
He sits down next to her, stretching his long legs out. ]
Oh, it wasn't that hard. I just followed the sound of delightful company.
[ A sigh escapes him. Not commentary on her, but commentary on the situation in general. He nods at her clothes, offering her one of the glasses he'd brought along with the bottle. ]
[ Wynonna doesn't wear her exhaustion in her face in the form of obvious bags so much as she just looks drawn, more hollowed-out, like the parts of her that used to be softened are narrowed-down and now she's trying to find more pieces to add back on again.
She listens to the sound of her cabin door hissing shut behind him, reaching out for the glass as he sits down beside her, close enough for their shoulders to brush. ]
Something like that. Figures it'd take whatever shit is going on right now to actually make me want to use the gym for once.
[ Most of the time, she is a firm opponent of workouts, although she'll be reluctant to admit that she actually does feel better afterward. ]
[ He pours her a drink first, because it's polite, before he tips any into his own glass. Mostly he's amazed he remembered glasses. Sometimes, lately, he forgets to put on shoes and has to double back to his room.
Not that they haven't just passed a bottle back and forth before. ]
Distractions are great.
[ Cash smiles wryly as he clinks their glasses together. He's used the gym, of course, but most of the time he just prefers to jog laps in the oxygen garden or work out in his room. ]
[ It's not like glasses are any mandatory thing with her; she would've been just as okay with them taking swigs directly out of the bottle, and she's done it herself enough times when she's too damn lazy to clean any glasses. It's also the reason why she's been willing to drink whiskey out of a fancy flowered teacup or a coffee mug. You work with what you have. ]
Mmm. Too much of this, though, and I'll be passing right out on you.
[ So she's going to nurse hers at first, taking a brief sip. The liquor doesn't even really burn going down anymore. ]
You know, I didn't even notice. These last few hours... almost feels like we're all just trying to move underwater.
[ He gives a little shrug in response to the idea of her passing out. It will take more than this bottle to do the same to him. If she can get some sleep out of it, he's more than fine with her company dropping off. So to speak. ]
I think that the empathy bond means that even people who aren't being directly affected are still getting secondary drunkenness off everyone else's misery.
[ There really should be safeguards against that, he thinks — surely the people who designed the empathy bond wouldn't be that short-sighted.
He sips. ]
I'm trying to keep it to myself, but it's harder to suppress the bond the more tired you are. Apparently.
[ It's a fine line sometimes for her between drowsiness and being completely shitfaced, and it's even harder for her to tell the difference when she already feels like she's running on fumes. ]
Oh good. So it's basically like one long continuous party.
[ Not that she even fully understands the empathy bond herself, and it hasn't actually stopped her from touching the people she wants to touch; she's just... made every attempt to try and shove her own feelings down where she can. ]
Good thing neither of us have any deep emotions that might get us in trouble here, huh? [ It's a poor attempt at a joke, but now she's starting to realize that the two of them, alone in a room together, might set her up for something she isn't prepared to visit head-on. ]
The worst pity party imaginable, [ Cash agrees. He goes ahead and knocks the rest of his glass back, pouring himself a new one as he decides not to be shy. It's going to take a few more glasses for it to start really affecting him, anyway.
Might as well get the pleasant burn down his throat. As he glances up from his glass, the corners of his lips twitch. It's more self-deprecation than anything else. As if he'd upset the social balance on purpose. ]
Are you scared of my deep love of booze? [ he decides to joke back, a touch softer than his earlier words. ] I know it's intense, but it's nothing to be scared of. I just like a good time.
Spoken like someone who's been to a handful of those before. [ She counts herself in that description, though, even if most of the pity parties she's attended in her lifetime have only had a guest list of one.
But as she's finding, something like this? It's slightly better than being alone. She follows suit in polishing off the rest of her drink, holding out her glass so he can refill it once he's done with his own. ]
Terrified. [ She attempts to flash a smile, but it ends up more crooked, more slanted, and she clears her throat before taking another sip of booze. ]
We don't have to invite pity. We can just tell it to beat it at the door.
[ Easier said than done, but still, Cash imagines that they can find all kinds of things to talk about that don't fringe on pity. They're already dragged down enough as it is. He has another gulp from his glass, trying to imagine what this particular booze was made out of. Something unpleasant, he has to imagine. ]
I do miss actual bars, [ he admits. ] Not that the bar we have is bad, but the idea of being able to order whatever you want sounds pretty great.
[ She chuckles dryly, fingers absently tapping against the edge of her glass, a light tinkling sound, and stares toward the contents like she's contemplating them even though she's looking at a completely distant point. ]
Right? [ The groan from her is immediately sympathizing and she leans into him, nudging her shoulder against his before swaying back again. ] Remember bar apps? Onion rings and fries and loaded nachos with all the fixings?
And it has to real bad to miss bar food, but yeah, I do.
[ Just sitting there and smelling it in the air, the salt and the fat it fried in, while it passes by on somebody's tray. Cash smiles, sipping from his glass before he goes on. ]
Maybe I just miss fried food. It's hard to justify the resources for it here, considering all the steps. But that was my favorite part of going to the State Fair, all the terrible and delicious food choices.
Hey, I'm not saying any of it is actually any good. Sometimes a girl just wants fatty fatty goodness. Or delicious carbs.
[ She's never had the best habits in terms of food choices, which seems almost antithetical given the way she can fit herself into a pair of skinny jeans, but killing demons apparently helps you burn calories. Who knew? ]
Yeah, I don't really like to think about what they had to melt down to get what comes out of the food dispensers.
[ She scrunches up her nose, takes another contemplative sip of her liquor. Mostly just plants, if she had to guess, which would make her vegan sister happy if Waves was here, but not so much Wynonna, who prefers her burgers fat and juicy. ]
I've been advised not to look in the machines — or I might not want to eat from them — and I'm going to take that advice.
[ He has a strong stomach, but still. If they break down, they're someone else's problem. Cash drains the last of his glass in one go. At least alcohol is... uncomplicated. It's not good for you, and that's an agreed-on thing. No one drinks alcohol for healthful properties. ]
Shudder to think what this place would turn into if we didn't have buckets of booze from the last planet. A lot of frustrated folks ready to boil over, I'm guessing.
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lucked out and got a room all to myself
so i still don't know if anyone around here snores
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I don't know either.
But I've been told that I don't.
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says who
[ she's just teasing; she really doesn't need to know the answer to that. ]
but you're not asleep now
something on your mind?
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[ A drama in three parts. ]
What about you?
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although you know what's great?
booze
[ good for what ails ya on so many levels. ]
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[ There's not enough of a supply on the ship for Cash to drink as much as he'd want to, normally. Which means that he's both drinking less and smoking less than he used to. No smoking at all, in fact, because of the lack of cigarettes. It's kind of a bummer for him, but he'd never complain about either. ]
Should we continue this over a drink?
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[ and maybe she... has been storing away some here and there for moments like this one when sleep is either elusive or she actually doesn't want to drift off for fear of what will happen if she closes her eyes. ]
am i coming to you or are you coming to me?
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Nah. Too easy. ]
I was the rude one, texting first. I'll come to you. What should I grab from the bar?
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anything dark that looks like it'll halfway do the trick
don't worry about knocking when you get here
[ now that she's figured out how to set the lock on the door, it should just open right up for him when he shows up. ]
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[ Dark and murky is half the selection under the bar, at least, that isn't the fruitihol from their forest planet stop. Cash grabs a bottle of something that's got a dark amber ring and makes his way to Wynonna's room, poking his head in. ]
Open sesame?
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she's sitting at the foot of her bed when he shows, bracing her hands on the edge of the mattress as she hunches her shoulders forward. ]
Hey, you found me. [ the edge of her mouth twists up into a weak attempt at a smile. ] I mean, it's not a huge ship, so... process of elimination, really.
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He sits down next to her, stretching his long legs out. ]
Oh, it wasn't that hard. I just followed the sound of delightful company.
[ A sigh escapes him. Not commentary on her, but commentary on the situation in general. He nods at her clothes, offering her one of the glasses he'd brought along with the bottle. ]
Did you get a workout in?
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She listens to the sound of her cabin door hissing shut behind him, reaching out for the glass as he sits down beside her, close enough for their shoulders to brush. ]
Something like that. Figures it'd take whatever shit is going on right now to actually make me want to use the gym for once.
[ Most of the time, she is a firm opponent of workouts, although she'll be reluctant to admit that she actually does feel better afterward. ]
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Not that they haven't just passed a bottle back and forth before. ]
Distractions are great.
[ Cash smiles wryly as he clinks their glasses together. He's used the gym, of course, but most of the time he just prefers to jog laps in the oxygen garden or work out in his room. ]
Was anybody asleep in there?
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Mmm. Too much of this, though, and I'll be passing right out on you.
[ So she's going to nurse hers at first, taking a brief sip. The liquor doesn't even really burn going down anymore. ]
You know, I didn't even notice. These last few hours... almost feels like we're all just trying to move underwater.
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I think that the empathy bond means that even people who aren't being directly affected are still getting secondary drunkenness off everyone else's misery.
[ There really should be safeguards against that, he thinks — surely the people who designed the empathy bond wouldn't be that short-sighted.
He sips. ]
I'm trying to keep it to myself, but it's harder to suppress the bond the more tired you are. Apparently.
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Oh good. So it's basically like one long continuous party.
[ Not that she even fully understands the empathy bond herself, and it hasn't actually stopped her from touching the people she wants to touch; she's just... made every attempt to try and shove her own feelings down where she can. ]
Good thing neither of us have any deep emotions that might get us in trouble here, huh? [ It's a poor attempt at a joke, but now she's starting to realize that the two of them, alone in a room together, might set her up for something she isn't prepared to visit head-on. ]
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Might as well get the pleasant burn down his throat. As he glances up from his glass, the corners of his lips twitch. It's more self-deprecation than anything else. As if he'd upset the social balance on purpose. ]
Are you scared of my deep love of booze? [ he decides to joke back, a touch softer than his earlier words. ] I know it's intense, but it's nothing to be scared of. I just like a good time.
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But as she's finding, something like this? It's slightly better than being alone. She follows suit in polishing off the rest of her drink, holding out her glass so he can refill it once he's done with his own. ]
Terrified. [ She attempts to flash a smile, but it ends up more crooked, more slanted, and she clears her throat before taking another sip of booze. ]
But hey, one more thing we have in common.
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[ Easier said than done, but still, Cash imagines that they can find all kinds of things to talk about that don't fringe on pity. They're already dragged down enough as it is. He has another gulp from his glass, trying to imagine what this particular booze was made out of. Something unpleasant, he has to imagine. ]
I do miss actual bars, [ he admits. ] Not that the bar we have is bad, but the idea of being able to order whatever you want sounds pretty great.
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[ She chuckles dryly, fingers absently tapping against the edge of her glass, a light tinkling sound, and stares toward the contents like she's contemplating them even though she's looking at a completely distant point. ]
Right? [ The groan from her is immediately sympathizing and she leans into him, nudging her shoulder against his before swaying back again. ] Remember bar apps? Onion rings and fries and loaded nachos with all the fixings?
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And it has to real bad to miss bar food, but yeah, I do.
[ Just sitting there and smelling it in the air, the salt and the fat it fried in, while it passes by on somebody's tray. Cash smiles, sipping from his glass before he goes on. ]
Maybe I just miss fried food. It's hard to justify the resources for it here, considering all the steps. But that was my favorite part of going to the State Fair, all the terrible and delicious food choices.
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[ She's never had the best habits in terms of food choices, which seems almost antithetical given the way she can fit herself into a pair of skinny jeans, but killing demons apparently helps you burn calories. Who knew? ]
Yeah, I don't really like to think about what they had to melt down to get what comes out of the food dispensers.
[ She scrunches up her nose, takes another contemplative sip of her liquor. Mostly just plants, if she had to guess, which would make her vegan sister happy if Waves was here, but not so much Wynonna, who prefers her burgers fat and juicy. ]
This stuff's not so bad, though.
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[ He has a strong stomach, but still. If they break down, they're someone else's problem. Cash drains the last of his glass in one go. At least alcohol is... uncomplicated. It's not good for you, and that's an agreed-on thing. No one drinks alcohol for healthful properties. ]
Shudder to think what this place would turn into if we didn't have buckets of booze from the last planet. A lot of frustrated folks ready to boil over, I'm guessing.
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