notafuckingnut | [009] honesty is rarely the best policy

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[009] honesty is rarely the best policy

We crash into things, we stop at fucking weird places, and now the damn boat floods? What's next, we get hit by pirates?

...Actually that would be kinda cool. Maybe then I would get to kill people without everybody hassling me about it all the time. Or join them; I like their philosophy. Their eye patches? Not so much. They creep me out.

Although they are kinda cool underneath; did you know eyeballs don't squish as much as you'd think?

[Cheerful, AFFECTED Richie is both cheerful and affected! Warning: he also shares ENTIRELY too much and is likely to run his mouth until you tell him you really would like him to stop talking. And even then he might try to continue anyway.

Belated, and I really should have put this up sooner:

Trigger Warnings: contained below is casual discussion of rape, torture, animal abuse, accidental murder, and confusion between kink and domestic violence, as well as TERRIBLE anti-rape advice.]

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[Of course he was listening! Hey, he thought he made a perfectly reasonable request; he's just checking. He gives her a hurt look, as if she's the one being ridiculous and he's the victim.]

Okay, I got it. Geez. Fine. I'm just saying. It's confusing. But okay. No, not ever, definitely. Even if you say yes, it's still no. ...Right?

[ -___- ]

[Claire reaches out and gives his forearm a quick squeeze. She has no idea why, she refuses to feel guilty here.] I know, and I'm sorry, I don't mean to be confusing. [Pause. This could be a mistake, but:] And we'll cross that bridge if we ever get to it, alright?

[Shrug] It's not just you; a lot of people are. But...thanks? [Why is she apologizing? This just seems weird to him.]

[SUCH a mistake, Claire. Why must you do things like this? You give him hope only to crush it and restore it later by accident.]

...Okay, sure. You're sure?

[I know, she's stupid and trying to be stupid nice.] If we get to that bridge. Waaaaay down the road. Not now.

[Huffs.]

Okay. I got it. Not now. That's pretty disappointing, but okay. I guess that's...fine.

...How far down the road are we talking, though?

Richie! I have work to do, okay? Now, you can either help or make like a tree and leaf. Either way, this is me walking away.

[Cleany clean clean the benches.]

[Yep, see? SO not ending the way he envisioned it. He looks dejected, but is entirely content to take in the view as she shifts her attention. He watches for a little while, then finally speaks, sounding more than a little distracted.]

...You have a nice ass. And...everything else. I bet your feet are just as nice.

[A tiny bit more with-it, although he still sounds like he's more likely to continue to stare than actually be much help with...anything.]

I think I'll stay. What do you need help with?

[Nevermind that she already suggested things earlier, he's CLEARLY forgotten by now.]

[O-kay, not at all what she was expecting to hear. It surprised so much that she stumbled from no longer watching where she was walking and instead turning to look at him in disbelief. On one hand, yeah, sure, the compliment was nice because she didn't hear things like that often, but on the other, it was coming from the same person who couldn't take a hint, was affected by this gd flood, and one scary, creepy dude. Probably reasons to break whatever this was off, but she was more afraid of what would happen if she did, versus sticking this out. Besides, she could handle it. Or stupidly thought she could. She relied way too much on her ability sometimes.]

My...feet?

[Yes, that was what she was stuck on at the moment.]

Mhm. I mean...I've never seen them, so I can't say for sure, but. Based on the rest of you I'm pretty sure you have fucking amazing feet.

[Aaand now he's checked out a bit to fantasize about them. They are, in his mind, currently the BEST feet ever. He swallows thickly, eying her more than a little like a starving wolf, and whyyyy didn't you just tell him to leave, Claire? He doesn't need more encouragement.]

[Oh, holy shit, she needs to get away now. She jumps, feigning being startled (despite being worried quite a bit at the moment), and pulls out her item, a teddy bear on a keychain.]

Great, [she mumbles, stuffing it away.] My item just went off, I have to go find my Inmate. Thanks for offering to help, though.

[Claire is already walking away, whipping out her communicator and shooting a fast and private text to Bourne, asking him to cover the gym while she pretends to find Mr. Pink. She calls over her shoulder,] Bye, Richie, see you.

[...Huh? That...okay. Not quite what he was expecting at all, but okay.]

...What? Um. Yeah, sure, no problem. Maybe another time...? See you, Claire.

[He's just...going to watch her leave for a bit. And then find his way back to his cabin since APPARENTLY she's just going to take off like that. Always the wrong ending. ALWAYS.]

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