2019-12-19 - Beer Thirty


A ride back to Posse's place gives the two an opportunity to connect.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Thu Dec 19 00:06:27 2019
Location: The Disaster Zone

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Theme Song



If Neena wasn't already snow-white, Posse rides like she's intent to make her moreso. Penned in by the typical traffic of the Big Apple at first, the cyborg begins to show what her bike is capable of as she steers them onto the lesser-used roads of the city's west side. Pushed by a startlingly powerful motor, highway speeds arrive just as fast and suddenly as city speeds, and Neena's left to take whatever grip she can as the cyborg crouches into the upper limits of highway legal… at least when the cops aren't looking.

Needless to say, the windchill is intense.

Stretching out from the bay and swinging wide along I-78, Posse re-enters the city proper in Lower Manhattan and cuts through its heart to cross the eerily empty and unused Williamsburg Bridge. Following the open space of the interstate, the return of crushing city pack gives way in a sudden and unnatural way as, in the span of only a block, their black motorcycle becomes the only vehicle on the road.

The reason is clear and apparent: across the East River stretches what remains of Williamsburg and Northern Brooklyn - the Disaster Zone in every sense of the word. Cordoned off and gated, the area is a mixed of gutted shops, crumbled masonry, and eerily preserved offices that, except a few broken windows, were merely abandoned in the exodus that followed the neighborhood's destruction.

Posse smiles within her helmet at the desolated sight and steers her motorcycle left along the fence's edge. A short ride off the bridge, a towering helix of new and pristine alloys and glass rises hopefully towards the heavens. A tech campus new to the city, the distinctive structure marks the center of RESCUE HQ, New York's home office for REsearch, Science and Cybernetics Unlimited Engineering.

Cutting her speed to a more manageable level, Posse straightens back upright and flips her visor as she angles towards a guardhouse along the campus' perimeter. Sturdy security walls enclose glimpses of green foliage and a surveillance system is easy to spot. Despite the company's altruistic goals, they do take their safety seriously. "You'll want to show an ID for this part," the cyborg comments by radio as she rolls to a stop.


It's cold, alright. Damn blasted cold. In her current state it might be enough to leave Neena curled up in a shivery ball. The electric bike doesn't have the benefit of internal combustion and exhaust piping to radiate a little extra heat. And yet…

The albino is an adrenaline junkie. There's no question about it. There are times where she's got one fist in the air while giving what to MOST people might sound like a battle cry! It's a striking difference from the quiet and annoyed shooter which had lined up at a neighboring lane a while earlier. Having the speed, the freedom, and the open road brings the life right back into the ghost of a lady.

Then suddenly the traffic is gone. Neena had only heard passing rumors about this 'Disaster Zone' but she hadn't looked into it any. In a city like New York they wouldn't just leave a large portion of it lying in ruin, that's ridiculous! And yet…

"Jeezus," she mutters over the comms. "Someone had a bad time here. Or a..really good one." More exploration will be required. There's bound to be -plenty- of interesting treasures and hidey holes around here for someone with her unique talents!

"Look, I know we just met and all and I hate to be that person..actually no I don't..but your place is a real pile of sh—"

—iitake what on EARTH is..?!

Domino's stunned. Truly. She had no idea any of this existed and it seems like a pretty damn big secret if it is one beyond her own ignorance of the area.

Wait. ID? Oh, crap. This is not..really..going to plan. At all. The albino has to dig around through all of those layers until some form of ID can be found. Fortunately enough, she did come prepared.

As someone named Tamara Winter.

She's also rocking a theme, apparently.

"What is it that you do, exactly?" Dom asks with some hesitation. Seeing as she knows like NOTHING about this other lady.


"Oh, I'm just a demo model," Posse laughs modestly, perhaps teasing her passenger's apparent ignorance. The guard that approaches clanks as he walks. He's suited as well, but in armor panels and carrying an energy pistol holstered at his side. Helmeted, his visor is transparent and invitingly broad, showing his whole face as he looks with deference towards Posse before proceeding to study her passenger. The cyborg presents an ID in her metal hand without needing a prompt and though no great attention is given to her paperwork, the guard is quick to respond.

Domino's process is slower but not unfriendly and while the guard is prepared for eventualities, he seems perfectly content to print her a visitor's badge and wave the pair inside.

Once through the initial security, Posse rolls her motorcycle along a winding road further inside. "This place only came up recently so I imagine the land was cheap; most of this was bulldozed and rebuilt. If you ever need cybernetic work, medical rehab, that kind of stuff - best place in the world is right here," she explains immodestly. "Parking's underground but it's a short walk from there to the Swamp. That's the dormitory building where I rack out most nights."


The earlier question in Neena's mind remains: What on earth IS this place! Another machine, a very peculiar looking sidearm, and ..her totally not correct but very professionally made ID seems to do the trick. Lucky her. Though does she really WANT to be inside of this technological fortress? This seems like a bad idea. Tempting fate a -little- too far.

"You'll understand if I call bullshit" she says back about the demo model pitch. "And I wasn't anticipating being introduced to your entire family on a first date."

Welp. It's too late to back out now. And..yeah, sure. Okay. She is all sorts of curious. And it still feels like a really bad idea. However, she's made a career out of jumping head-first into really bad ideas. This one isn't any different. Just..shinier.

It might be difficult to notice but somewhere beneath all of those winter layers the albino shivers when Posse mentions the Swamp. "Seriously, you live in 'the swamp?' I'd say that's charming but neither of us would believe it."


Posse laughs again, appreciating the name for her own reasons. "It's the big pond between it and the other buildings. And hey a little base security never hurt anyone. That's all you cross to go to the dorms though, higher security as at the entrances for office space and labs," she enlightens as she rolls into the campus' underground parking lot and finally comes to a stop. With no engine to wind down, her motorcycle simply goes dead once it's no longer needed and the cyborg gives Teena - or rather Tamara - a chance to untangle herself before stepping off as well.

"Okay, okay," the white-haired woman relents heavily as she swings her left leg forward and /up/ to clear her handlebars and face the albino standing. "Ava Posey, RESCUE's Overwatch division Chief of Security and TDA to New York Police Department's Powered Crime Bureau." After pausing to let the long title sink in, the green-eyed woman offers her flesh-and-blood hand along with a disarming smile as she once again watches Tamara's gaze. "Charmed."


"Yeah, no, I'm all about having good security," Domino absently replies while looking around and ..absorbing. Absorbing -so much.- Because this is ridiculous. She wouldn't have been caught -dead- anywhere near a place like this in any other circumstance. It feels like she's infiltrating freaking -Skynet.-

Then it gets more ridiculous, because why the hell not? Posse here has a name and a title which is about as long as Neena's most recent killstreak. Chief of security, okay cool. Could come in handy later. New York Police, that's..iffy. Powered Crime Bureau—hell. Oh holy mother of shit.

On the outside Neena's smirking her secretive lopsided smirk but on the inside there are alarms aplenty. Ava Posey just 'caught' herself a mutant criminal who could have probably wound up on several Most Wanted lists if they had managed to pin the deeds on her. But hey! This is fine. Everything's fine. Gonna have some drinks, talk about guns, 'socialize' in their manner of preference and call it a night. It'll be good times with only..like..a forty-seven point six percent chance of her waking up to half a dozen laser sights tomorrow morning.

They aren't terrible odds. Not for Dom!

"I'm gonna go ahead and guess that you've already pulled my name at the first checkpoint." She's also going to go ahead and not bother mentioning what it is that she does for a living.


"Maybe but that'd be rude," Posse admits, leaving her hand out-stretched while her gaze hangs on Neena's face. Her own eyes are a steely calm but relaxed - and why not? She's home with a new gun-enthusiast lady friend. "And I wasn't kidding - demo model's my first job."


Oh yeah, it's time to hop off of the bike isn't it? Neena -might- be a little distracted at the moment but the offered hand is taken soon enough.

"So, what. You got to stand in front of an audience and show off what the latest and greatest trends in cybernetics were? Seems a little dehumanizing. I mean, you're still a person. Not an object.


A strong grip, a brief but firm shake, and eye contact throughout. Unlike a normal handshake, Posse doesn't release at the end, instead pausing with a look of expectation until Neena stops without adding anything more. "It's not really like that…" she disputes. "So… Ava Posey, and you're…?"


Something feels like it shifted back there, almost like it's gone from being an evening whim to becoming a job interview. "Tamara Winter," Neena half-truthfully responds. According to the ID she showed at the security checkpoint it's true, that is indeed her name! So it's not a -total- lie. Just..a truth off of a not-truth.

"I figured your internal wifi would have picked that up at the gate. Everything seems so interconnected around this joint," she suggests with a light smirk. "If I'm going to have to leave a blood sample we should probably do that now before breaking out the drinks."


That seems to be the password as Posse unlocks her grip and turns back to her bike to retrieve the pistols she stowed inside. Any pretense of formality and scrutiny evaporate just as quickly as they came, and the cyborg even waves a hand over her shoulder to dispel it more thoroughly. "Bah, I only said all that because you pushed. I'm out of uniform; this is me-time, liberty. 'Sides people might get weirded out if I started going surveillance on them…"

"Unless you've got some weird exhibitionist streak," Posse considers with a glance back towards Neena's heavily-bundled form, "but my money's on 'no'."


Hmmh. Well, Ava here did say that she was the head of security. Who knows what kind of 'enhancements' she might have hard-wired into her being? Like a walking lie detector or something? Though so far it seems that Dom's in the clear. If it doesn't come up again tonight then all should be downhill from here.

"Your instinct is spot-on there" she confirms while following along. "I wasn't sure if you had the self-restraint."

Every step of the way she's mentally mapping out the compound and where they happen to wander. Y'know. Just in case she has to blitz this place at some point. Having an exit route is important! As is knowing where she can find some extra hardware, such as the pistols that Ava had recovered from the bike. The albino is paying attention.


Heading through the parking garage to the nearest elevator, it's a short and uneventful trip up to the surface, then along the duck pond's edge into the five-story dormitory building. Rising second in height only to the double helix Spire in the campus' center, the Swamp is simple but inviting in its architecture, with broad windowpanes to draw in what sunlight is offered this time of year. Foliage is broadly present along the walking paths around them, and one person in a lab coat can be spotted moving between the Spire and the campus' so-far-unnamed third building.

"Well doc' is always getting on me about being a role model and how my acting reflects on the company, but the day that stops me havin' fun is the day I demote myself to a nobody again," Posse grouses as she walks, leading Neena if unbidden to the first elevator inside the dorm. Her on her home turf, the cyborg's subtle sweeps have eased and there's no attempt at all to keep the albino in her sights. "How 'bout you? Have any pick-up fun of your own lately?"


There's still a lot to take in. The facility at large continues to impress Neena while also keeping her on her guard. It's the feeling of being a spy who is going deep into the heart of enemy territory, the fortified bunker housing untold secrets. It doesn't help that she's effectively going into it blind, either. Ava won't have any worries about her running off, however. The albino still has her eyes on this evening's prize. Everything else is helpful knowledge.

"I get it where I can find it" she cryptically replies.

What had been years ago to her had only happened a week or two back at the docks involving a slave trade and an absolute ton of cash. Her description in the news hadn't gone any further than 'someone in a black trench.' Then there was the whole situation with Mallovoy…

"I'm actually quite new to this part of town. Finding my footing and all that fun stuff. Don't even know where the good ranges are which is how I came to be at the charity shoot. Maybe you could hook a lady up sometime."


"Hook /you/ up?" Posse considers, making a show of mock indecision. The golden spine of her suit curves lithely as she lets her hips sway while entering an elevator, then pivots to eyes Neena slyly. "I could be convinced. Wasn't that long I was a transplant m'self. Where're you from?" Mixing flirting with conversation, the cyborg absent-mindedly brushes her bionic hand near a badge reader at the same time, then taps a floor button once the scanner beeps green. Polished silvery doors roll quietly shut, sealing the pair alone in the elevator car as it lurches upwards.


"What, you don't know where the best ranges are in town?" Neena challenges with a pointy-toothed grin. "I'm sure you've been here longer than I have going by rehab, alone." Because -look at all of that!- The facility may be where Dom's trying to pay the most attention but she can't help but keep looking back at the cyborg lady.

With the two again up close and personal in the elevator she suggests "Gold's a good contrast on you" without a hint of warning. She could be serious, or she could be trying to keep the conversation away from herself. Or both.

"Wasn't making up the snowbird line before," she explains while slipping the knit hat clear of black hair. On the right side the straight but jagged cut can't quite reach her shoulder but the left side of her head has a broad area where it's been reduced to a black stubble. A particularly acute olfactory could probably still make out the distinct odor of burnt hair.

"I am from the south." No southern accent, however. "Been doing a fair bit of globe-trotting. Following the work."


"Thanks. Not my idea but I like it well enough," Posse responds for the compliment. Rolling her shoulders in the narrow car, the cyborg grins back while watching Neena undress herself from her winterized condition. "Nice hair," she sends right back. "And to think I'm usually the unbalanced one."

The elevator ride is short and as the car eases to a gentle stop on the fourth floor, Posse moves to the front and keeps her head half-turned to watch Neena as she leads out.

The interior of the dormitory section is wide and hard-floored, ideal for wheelchairs and moving carts with sunny artificial lights lining the ceiling. With numbered doors on every side there's no window to the outside world - that's saved for the suites themselves - but small number plates on the walls help the risk of getting lost. The crisp, clean dryness of central heating and well-tended quarters greets the senses, a concentrated form of the front lounge, and it's a challenge to find even a single cobweb or scrap of dust. For all its trappings the building could be a hotel.


"There's always spraypaint" she oh so helpfully suggests. Then with an impish smile, "Just had it done a few days ago. Asymmetry's the new hotness." Though there won't be any hiding from the eye patch for her for the next year or so.

Now the facility is feeling more clinical. It's not a feeling which she enjoys. -At all.- The smooth and hard floor, the numbers on the doors, the harsh lighting and complete lack of windows, her steps do actually begin to slow as she falls back from Ava. Everything's so clean, so -sterile,- so…

There's a physical flinch. A tightening of her jaw and a subtle showing of teeth as her head twitches to one side. It takes another half of a second for the tension to bleed away from her features, picking up the pace slightly to catch up with Ava. Hopefully she didn't notice the slip.

"Are all of these rooms filled with more people who have undergone the same ..treatment?"


With one eye still on her conversation partner, the cyborg is looking when Domino averts her focus. Posse actually seems quite comfortable walking with her head turned - no proprioception issues here.

Raising her metal hand, the green-eyed woman turns it back and forth as she makes a show of studying it. "Yeah but I like the bare metal look. It's pretty badass, and it's easier on maintenance." Neena's question earns a shake of her head and Posse returns her attention forward as she comes to one door in particular. "It's a mix. We do rehab here as well as medical, and everyone's offered housing if they want it. You'll get some patients, some converts like me, and some regular joes that just happen to work here. I'd wager we've got the highest disability rate in the city though; Roni looks out for that sort of thing and this whole place is built with handicap in mind."


"Yeah, I dig the polished look" she seconds as though everything is cool and good and she didn't just have a momentary lapse or anything. "I've heard it can be pretty traumatic but you seem to have adjusted well."

Again more questions step forward as the two step onward. It's a relief when they finally reach Ava's personal quarters! Anything to get out of the hall and into somewhere more ..lived in.

"Rehab from what? This doesn't look like a clinic for addicts. I'm missing a point somewhere here. What do they need a cybernetically enhanced head of security for if this is all related to medical treatment?"

Albino senses tingling. What is Domino walking into?

There's a sudden insistence when outside of Ava's door one of Neena's gloved hands slaps up against the wall, like she's trying to bar access to the metal gal's own dwelling. It's a sudden push into Posse's personal space, an eye to eye stare when she asks "You DID sign up for what they did to you…"


The cyborg pivots smoothly in reply; left foot back, stance opening, weight centered. It's a slow movement and not aggressive, even moving her slightly away from the slap of Domino's palm, but for as natural as it might seem, it keeps Posse close while closing off the wide open line she'd been presenting to her back and giving her space to maneuver off the wall.

It's a cooler gaze that regards Domino's question - the same flat-eyed readiness she'd been fixing her target with at the range. Posse stares at first and possibly pushes down an instinct of her own that's presented her metal hand relaxed and open on the same side as the albino's newly-exposed ribs - then her snow brow quirks and the veteran grins disarmingly. "Damn *you've* got a story we're sharing over drinks. And duh, of course I did. You answered your own question, Cinderella. Come on, take a tactical breath and let's talk more inside," she advises before turning back to the door - and presenting her unguarded side once more.

Stepping in, Neena is left to follow on her own. More sunlight lighting illuminates the threshold as Posse enters her home and moves off to one side. Small and relatively under-furnished, the Chief of Security has for herself the same style of two-room suite probably to most of the building, with plain furniture and wood laminate flooring that do nothing to affirm her apparent high station. The cyborg's living room is a simple loveseat, an entertainment center, and an alarmingly thick antique rifle hanging from the wall above. A pair of hallways fork off to closed doors and the back of the edge of a small kitchen is visible around a partition. The same warm dry air pervades the suite as it did the hallway, a relief from the winter chill outside, and from top to bottom the colors are rather plain; light blue walls with brown furniture that doesn't quite match.


Posse's grin and initial response has Domino rolling her eyes. "Look. I have a problem with experimentation on unwilling people. It's as simple as that."

No. No it isn't. Not at all. There is -so much more.-

"I needed to hear it from the source" she explains before her raised hand drifts away from the wall and the edge seeps out of her demeanor. No, there's no fight brewing here. Although the sudden outburst did tell the pale mercenary a whole lot more about her companion. Ava here could probably give Dom a real run for her money if they ever got into it. Like -really- got into it. Especially if Neena forgot to pack some armor-piercing bullets. Because even now she's thinking of risks and strategies to counter the other woman in battle. Doesn't everyone?

The interior of Ava's home may be sparse, Dom gets that mindset, but there's just enough color and just enough of a personal touch to help that 'tactical breath' take hold. It doesn't feel like a bad space. It feels like a home, not a trap. Not a cell. For one it has actual -windows.- It isn't underground. Also it's fairly warm.

Ava's jacket is allowed to fall free of Neena's shoulders, either hung up or set aside wherever is most convenient. She's not quite ready to part with the puffer coat. It's doing more than keeping her core temp up.

"You like working this gig? Bit of a hike to get home but a place like this doesn't suck."


"Maybe, but it's here or it's out of the city," Posse contends, "And half the time I'm on base either at work or on standby." Setting her pistol case down for a moment, the cyborg turns back to Neena and gestures towards the room around her. "So yeah, this is home. Just leave that jacket wherever, it won't explode. Not a lot to see in here but I've got friends that aren't so 2nd Amendment. Get comfy and I'll grab the beers," she offers before ducking into the kitchen, leaving the albino a small chance to explore.

Besides the love seat and entertainment center, the living room is sparse - in fact there's a gaping void in the room filled only by a rug which almost begs for a table. A small 3D camera by the woman's television might hint as to its purpose. Why a sandbag the size of a forearm is on the floor half-tucked behind one wooden corner is harder to guess.

Looking through the living room and towards the double window that opens to blue skies, a similarly plain dining nook displays a round table, a couple wooden chairs, and a small but rather artful tilted globe full of what looks like whiskey that serves as the table's center decoration. Each wall of the dining room is filled in opposition to the other: a musket on one wall and crossed percussion pistols on the other.


It won't explode. "Oh good. I was beginning to worry."

It's perhaps the one and only opportunity that Domino is going to get. The eyes of an infiltrator immediately begin their search while she gives off the appearance of simply having a look around at the various rooms. She's doing that as well but any hint of surveillance will be taken note of. It's like she's casing the joint to attempt to rob it later!

Really..a big part of her motivation involves making sure she has the space to shed another couple of layers..and a dual pistol rig..without being noticed or caught in the act. The two HK 9 millimeters and webbing will effortlessly vanish inside of the pile of coat and sweatshirt, evidence which should easily stay hidden so long as the 'nest' isn't disturbed by outside hands.

Head of security, working with the NYPD, whatever. Neena prefers having an ace in the hole. Generally, the less that other people know about the kind of heat she's packing the better everything will be.

What's left behind gives a proper account of how wiry the albino is, like she had been required to do hard labor for a couple of years without many opportunities to pack on the calories. A long sleeved black turtleneck doesn't -quite- mask a peculiar bump just north of her sternum, a circular object about the size of a silver dollar. Uncovered hands, as white as snow, are capped with glossy black gelled nails. There's so much focus on the monochrome spectrum that she looks like a black and white sketch when put against color.

"It's an interesting contrast." Pot, kettle… "State of the art body mods with a couple of muskets for decoration. You ever try shooting black powder? It's a great smell."


"'Couple times. Not as much as I'd like maybe," Posse answers as she rounds the corner with a couple beer bottles. True to her word, both dark brown bottles are marked by the tan and milky curves of shapely legs beneath flashy white letters: Old Leghumper.

Pausing at the edge of the couch, the cyborg leans against its back and laughs softly as her gaze sweeps her still-monochrome guest. "''Cinderella'' shit, I should have called you Betty Boop," she snarks before reaching over to offer a bottle. "It's a porter - prize for that tight grouping."


The offered bottle is taken without question, Neena giving the label a brief look and an out loud "Cute." Really though, the important part is that it's -beer- and it's hers. Another lopsided grin is quick to follow in Ava's Betty Boop remark. "It gets worse" she suggests (promises?) while lifting the bottle slightly in mock salute.

"So I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that you're holding out on me again. Even strict anti-gunners tend to not worry too much about flintlocks. You're hidin' something good, arencha." And she wants to see it! "Come on now," she teases while pulling out a knife with a bottle opener. Yes, she carries one. Doesn't everyone? "Don't be shy. We're all operators here."


Posse tips her bottle back to return the salute as she leans back and watches. Her eyes flit to the knife and the cyborg smiles with amusement. "Oh /are we/?" She replies with a light-hearted disbelief that dares Neena to prove it. "Careful with your words, sis' or I'll have to call stolen valor; get a camera and start recordin' this shit."


"Lucky guess?" Neena laughs with a showing of one open hand. "Now now, officer. I've been behaving myself all day. Which hasn't been easy, believe me. Besides, I'm not the type to make home movies."

Wandering around the couch to come up alongside Ava, she suggests "We can shelve the armory display for now. If I'm not mistaken we still have an active bet going. Just warn me now if you go beyond skin deep under all of the fancy shiny bits. I can do without seeing your actual ribs."


Posse's joking mirth mellows as the albino approaches and her gaze lids just slightly in response to the shift in tone. "Nah my guts are still covered," she assures before turning her head and placing her own beer cap over her left eye. The cyborg tips her head down a little, then jerks the bottle with an audible *hiss* of released pressure.

Casually she lowers it back down, eye socket intact, and reaches out with her other hand to brush Domino's chin. "Sure, but for making that operator crack I want to hear your story. You didn't learn to shoot in the back of daddy's ranch - if you've got war stories I want to hear 'em."


Dom's just about to say "No way" when Ava pops the bottle with her freaking orbital ridge. It's enough for the albino to hiss inward slightly then breathe out an "Oh damn…" Then on the rebound, "You've really got an eye for your drinks."

The challenge issued forth is given another rolling of blue/silver sheen eyes, though in a playful manner. "Oh come on now. We both know you're not the sensitive type." Though if Ava's going to try and pin Neena to the spot she can at least return the favor, bringing both of her arms over Ava's shoulders with the beer suspended somewhere behind the cyborg. Direct eye contact is go.

"I haven't seen much in the way of actual deployment..but I've picked up a few tricks along the way. The private sector can be a -fascinating- place."

The idle glide of ghostly fingertips along the back of Ava's neck might be out of affection. It could also be more like a snake looking for the right spot to sink its fangs. Possibly both.


"Stupid human tricks. I'm sure you've got a few." Posse grins as she gets exactly the reaction she was hoping for and takes the invitation to wrap her arms around the albino's waistline, resting them just at the beltline of her camo pants. The skin of her neck is warm and supple, kept free of winter's chill by either her helmet or the snug edge of her suit just below it.

"Do tell," she purrs as her arms reel Teena in against her.


"Oh, are we doing the 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours?'" Neena quietly asks while similarly drawing the other woman closer. "Because that sounds …dangerously close… to entrapment. Officer."

They can save the combat moves for another time. With that gentle hold on the back of Ava's neck Dom leans closer for a kiss to the cyborg's lips. Talking's only going to get her into trouble and that's not what either of them had signed up for tonight.


Dry but a little spicy. Ava presses back into the kiss for a taste of the albino and lets a small breath puff out her nose, enjoying herself. The cyborg comes away chuckling lightly and gives her head a little shake. "If we're doing roleplay tonight drop the 'officer'. That *still* sounds weird to me."

"So what order are you thinking?" she asks in a quieter tone, still holding Domino against her body to body. Hips touch with the firmness of metal - there's probably suit down there too. "Bet, then beer, then fuck?"


Smooth and warm. Complimented with subtle traces of vanilla scent. The four pointier teeth aren't props, if explored any.

Another smirk edges across black-stained lips, a sidelong dip of Neena's head with a subtle shrug. "I thought it was cute," she quietly admits while running fingertips through Ava's shorter hair.

It would seem that her earlier fascination with Ava's cybernetics wasn't for show. Being held close against an augmented body doesn't seem to bother her in the slightest. Rather, it gives her hands curious new textures and patterns to explore. As if she's attempting to mentally map out every detail one piece at a time.

Neena lightly rests her forehead against Ava's with a soft "Mmh" of thought. "That sounds solid. By my count I'm down by two. Time to catch up."


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