Whether It's Damned Or If It's Good

The heap of "forgotten" about or disregarded clothes came to her chin. She sighed, breath blowing strands of hair from her eyes. Luna held up a shirt and pants identical to what she was already wearing, then tossed it, deciding it looked to be the same size. Upon hearing her name called, she tumbled and skittered  over the mass of everything-that-did-not-fit. She eyed it in disgust and made way to Artamis' voice.

Things were strewn everywhere, clothes, books, baggage and her new ... Captain slap-dab in the middle of it. "Doona ya get to use'ta order'an meh aroun'," she smirked, leaning in close to his face. Vega blinked and stole away to the things he had called her in for... that and she thought she spotted leather.

"Hav'ya came 'cross any cigas?" smiling prettily, she batted her lashed. The pirate had the stinkin' notion he didn't like the smoke... She could always enjoy one in the refresher though, she decided. "Any whiskey?" The mere thought made her mouth water. Luna was living on a prayer there.

On the up and up though, she had spotted leather. It was not a blazer like she had thought, but pants. She had also found a red tank, a pair of black shit kickers and a full length jacket.  Before changing, she shot a curious glance over her shoulder at him. He was busy milling through cargo, otherwise occupied at the other end of the room, when she shimmied off her pants and slipped into the leather leggings. The red tank was next after she flung off her shirt, letting the soft fabric conform over her breasts and then her stomach. She tugged and then nodded in approval. It'll go good with my holsters, she thought and nodded to herself.

"Find anythin' of int'rest?" added Luna as she slipped into the boots and promptly pulled on the laces to one.

He heard a bang, and a skidder, and then Luna appeared from behind the corner. He lofted a brow at her entrance. He was a bit curious to the extent of how much she'd destroyed. That was wiped from his mind, however, when she came within nose's reach of him and her own scent penetrated the menthol that followed her around everywhere. He had to bite his cheek to keep from having some kind of primal reaction, and relaxed when she regained distance and his personal space wasn't invaded by her.

"I'm not sure we have either of those, but I'll check." he said, returning to his rummaging. His thoughts strayed toward how the old clothes hugged her form, and out of curiosity chanced a glance in her direction as he shoved a bunch of rags out of the way in the canister he was searching. What he saw was not what he expected at all (after all, who changes right THERE?).

Needless to say, seeing her temporarily nude form sparked some problematic physicalities that he attempted to ignore. In a lapse of reason and a moment of good, or bad, timing. He happened upon a bottle of whiskey and zoochberry cream. He raised an brow at the second beverage, wondering what it was. He didn't think when he heard Luna ask if he'd found anything, and when he stood straight and shifted to speak in her direction, he was rather... profiled.

"Yeah, I found a bottle of whiskey and this... zoochberry cream." he responded. Then it hit him. He gave a nervous stammer and turned back to rummaging, mentally arguing with himself about his slip.

"Sorreh," she winced, noticing his rather pointed stance, "I'm no use ta bein'...shy?" Man, she sounded like a whore. That fact and realization caused her cheeks to burn, and Luna glanced away. She never really thought about it, never wanted or had a reason to. Come to think of it,  the pirate never once explained herself to anyone. It was not from lack of inquiry however, she just did not give a damn.

Luna wasn't a normal girl. Or at least that was what she had been told all her miserable life. Normal did not go stripping in front of random strangers. Artamis was no scoundrel, Hutt lackey... he seemed decent. Great  job, she told herself. Probably scarred him or had him thinking she was some cheap, dirty harlot. "I doona believe I eve' thank'd yoou..." No. Stop. Rewind. "Properly." You owe him, she  thought madly. He deserves something.

Just as she stood and began to make her way over to him, he held up a bottle. The word whiskey was the only thing she heard. This only hurried her steps and Vega snatched the bottle into her hands, snaking her fingers up the neck to pop it's top. "Sorreh again." With a quick tilt and a pull, the liquid burned her throat and she sighed in satisfaction. "I had ta doo things ta get by... I had ta live."

She slipped away through the door, whiskey in tow. "I'll be in mah cab'n, shouldya need me." It was an excuse to escape. Luna could no longer use the random sex and alcohol as an outlet because she was no longer in that place. She wouldn't use him. He rescued her. "Blimey hell... Artamis..." She slumped on the bed, situated herself in the corner and drank.

Artamis shook his head, to imply that it wasn't a big deal. He wasn't used to this sort of thing and such was to be... expected, he guessed. He saw her cheeks redden, which surprised him. Given her behaviour on the ground, he didn't expect this kind of reaction from her. As she drew closer, the stiffness in his lower body didn't cease at all, despite her clothes. His mind raced with possibilities of what she meant by "thanked you", but before he had the reaction to ask her on that, she was drawn to the whiskey like a moth to flame. He found his hand empty and the bottle emptying down her gullet faster than he could blink. He didn't blame her for any habits -- people adapt.

"Hey, Luna wait-" he called out, but too late. She was gone. He wanted to go after her, but he had more important things to do. The prioritisation in his head said to get the ship squared away and make sure it's safe, then go be emotional. So he cleaned up the cargo hold and reorganised everything, put the alcohol he found in the mini fridge in the lounge, tidied up the closet Luna had destroyed, and used his datapad to help him scan for tracers or bugs. He found none, so he shut off his datapad, smoothed out his pants, and went to find Luna.

"Hey," he started with a minor choke in the word. He cleared his throat and continued, "sorry for making things weird. I've never been privy to... well, such a view." he stammered a bit through his sentence, then looked to find a chair. There was a small desk chair to the side, so he sat down on it and awaited a response. (Unless she passed out, then he sat down to think).

Once upon a time Luna wasn't this bad off. Sure, she was bad in almost every sense of the definition. But she called the shots; if she was going to commandeer a ship, she would; if she was going to bring men in to her bed, she would. There was a choice, not some order. Luna didn't drink to wash away or numb herself then. It was because she enjoyed it and she wanted to. Now, all she wanted was to lose herself in to bottom of a bottle and forget the last five years. This single bottle was not going to be that bottle.

There was less than half left, she noted all unladylike and sprawled on the bed. The coat was bunched up and it's current use was a pillow for her head. She had not been sleeping when he entered her cabin, just relaxed. His crisp, clean scent had made her all the more comfortable. The lids of her gray eyes were closed almost peacefully and she felt herself starting to drift.

"We'll jus hav'ta fix that' 'en," she finally spoke, cracking her lids just a bit to see him sitting in the chair.  Vega watched him for a moment, then shifted upright slowly, planting her boots on the floor as she slid to sit on the corner of the bed closest to him. "A'lest ya furst wusn't half'abad?" If there was one thing she could say about herself, it was that she did not look bad naked, even with all the tattoos and a bigger bottom than she should of. "Doona be sorreh."

The bottle in her hand came up and she supped a little of the contents left, then offered it to him. "Why a noo ever see a wooman befo'?" He had to have been close to her age and the thought of never now was a little hard for Luna to register. In many ways she felt sorry for him, in others, pity for herself.

The freely-spoken topics of sexual nature made Artamis' mostly-innocent mind reel. He'd never been in such a situation, so he didn't know how to react. When she commented on his 'first time' not being bad, he didn't know if he should agree or play it off, so he remained silent. He did feel better, though, when she told him not to apologise. It made things in his head seem less like he was being somehow invasive. See, back in the lab if he didn't behave according to perfect procedure, he was suddenly bothersome and punished for it. It wasn't all fluff in the lab, just sheltering. It was paradise and hell wrapped into one.

He took the bottle and choked down a swallow, the alcohol making his mind reel less and his body more relaxed. He was a lightweight through and through right now, and this stuff was strong for him. He looked to Luna when she asked her question. His eyes may have betrayed the internal conflict, he didn't know. His mind fought to either tell her the truth or to avoid the question, to do something. She probably wouldn't believe 'I was kept as a science project on a secret facility', so he went with a neutral answer that wasn't a lie but wasn't the whole truth either.

"I had a very... sheltered childhood. Up until just recently I wasn't even allowed to leave the home." he sighed, then took another swig, "I ran away, crashed my ship into an asteroid, got picked up by the lease piratey pirate I'd ever met... though I haven't met many pirates... he gave me my own ship and I wandered the galaxy a bit, eventually stopping where you were and, well. You know the rest." he gave her half a smile and reclined in the chair. He set the bottle on the desk, within reach of either of them. He'd never shared any part of his story with anyone. It felt... good, actually, to get at least a portion off his chest.

There was not much to say about that... it seemed depressing. Oppressing... "So ya ne'vr?" The shock was apparently still riding the waves to her brain. Luna had not... seen this coming. She leaned forward, reaching past him. They were inches from their noses touching and she stopped, using a single finger to procure the whiskey bottle. "No mum dos tha'."

Those eyes slid half mast, just a sliver of silver able to be seen. "Suppose we doona haav long before someone finaaaaly catches up to us, aye?" She rose a slender brow and grinned a pirate smile, only her teeth weren't capped and crooked. "Mayhap ya oownleh hav'a a lil' time lef'o'ya freedom?" Maybe she did too. Luna took a pull from the bottle, canting her head to the side as to not crack him with it. The slightest hint of fear crossed her gaze.

"Artamis," she said so lowly and glanced up to him. "Wha woul'ya do with ownlee one hoour left of freedom?" A small hand reached up, fingers idly playing at his wrist.

Artamis' mouth moved but no words came out. The closest semblance to noise was a kind of choked gurgle. Not very attractive, but the young man was at a total loss. His mind raced with possibility, with potential and outcomes. His brain seized with racing thought and he was left with nothing but loss of reaction. That was mentally, anyway. His physical reaction was completely different. Instinct took over, and he found himself leaning forward by fractions, that familiar twinge in his loins, and he didn't swat away her touch. He was frozen, mind saying "whatthefrakisgoingonrightnow" and body doing its own thing.

"I..." was all he managed to say within comprehensibility.

"You doona have to be afraid o' me," Luna was not really sure about how or what she was feeling. She stared at him with a concrete gaze inches away. Clearly, he was and she did not know what to do about it. It was inadequacy, self disgust, and need that pumped through her veins. She knew very well what she could do. It was not something you take though. It was something that was given.

All along it was a feeling... her gut wrenched and she pushed it aside. Feelings... emotions? Best not, she though. Her whiskey moist lips quirked into an innocent enough smirk and she swallowed another shot or two. Slender fingers flitted and flirted through the mess of multi-colored dark hair.

There was something about it all being untainted, uncharted territory. Luna scrubbed her free hand over her face as if to remove the thoughts from showing physically, like it was a wash rag. "I shou'n't  'av," she leaned back and rocked on her heels to stand. He hadn't brought the other bottle with him... she was going to go find it.

Even if it was  zoochberry cream.

Artamis relaxed, just slightly, and shook his head in response to Luna's first little statement. He couldn't quite speak yet, but he knew he wasn't afraid... he didn't know what it was. His entire life was spent in isolation and he didn't know what he was feeling right now or how to express it. It was a horrible mixture of excitement, anxiety... more thoughts were running through his mind than he was currently capable of keeping up with, and it was leaving him, for lack of a better word, frozen. He was losing perspective when he heard her speak again.

Shouldn't have? Shouldn't have what? He opened his mouth slightly to speak, but no sound came, and he found himself a bit lost to what was going on, yet again. Then she stood. Then he stood. He caught her wrist as she moved to leave, and yet... he still couldn't fathom words. Hi facial expression, though. His eyes, they... they conveyed what he couldn't, spoke volumes he couldn't begin to interpret. Whatever play of emotion and confusion was going on in his head was written across his face as well as a plea for her to not leave, all woven through his visage like a carefully crafted sculpture. It was even nearly conveyed through his touch. It wasn't firm and commanding as one would possibly expect, but little more than a whisper of contact. A question, not a demand. It was overwhelming for him, but it was channeling itself despite his confusion.

Round 'an' round we go with no end in sight. The room seemed to draw closer and her breath caught. She did not expect a thing from him, much less skin contact. When she turned, the first thought was to question and to jerk away. Not many things kept her away from her crutch, much less a man she had known less than a week. Before Luna could react, she met his gaze and it stilled her.

All along it was a feeling.

Stay.

A heartbeat. A breath.

Stay.

It was as if a magnet was pulling her; a subtle attraction that she could not control. Nor understand. It merely called and she listened. Fear rode her body steadily, her body beaded with cold sweat, heart in her throat. She closed her eyes, caving, letting the feeling take her. The only thing she held onto was the mostly empty bottle of whiskey in her other hand.  

Luna could have broke Artamis' hold, could have walked away, had she had only ignored the feeling. Now she wondered, glancing up from under her lashes to look at him, and chewed on her bottom lip.

Why?

There were still now words. They were unnecessary, could only spoil the moment with needless sound. They were beyond Artamis' ability at any rate, still reeling from his mixed emotions. His body was acting on a will of its own, until his gaze fully met hers, shaded by lashes as it may have been. It was a simple look, but a look he knew all too well. It was a wordless question, one that transcended time and meaning. The question everyone asked, at one point or another. One he didn't have an answer for.

Artamis closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath, then met her gaze again an shook his head. He didn't know why. He gently pulled her closer to him, coiling his arm slowly around her until she was drawn into an embrace. It was comfort, and though the gesture was completely alien to him it made him feel... better. Not as tense, and his mind reeled less. He was able to think again, but now he chose not to speak. He was lost not in inescapable labyrinths of thought, but in the moment and the feeling of it all.

He looked down to her, expecting... he didn't know what to expect. The rationalising part of his mind wanted to be afraid she'd shove away and run. Another part of him said she could've done that a long time ago. He stopped himself before he got coiled in thought again. No worries now, just this space and this woman.

It's not just something you take.


It's given.


All him, his scent was not that of hers, where it was so thick it recorded everywhere she'd been, but nothing like her. No, his was something his body manufactured and she drew closer to the comfort it promised. Luna's arms snaked around his sides and her face buried into the hollow of his shoulder, then rested upon his chest.

The bottle fell, a few shots of whiskey that was left pooled at her feet.

She could feel him relax against her and somehow it sparked the gears and the tears came. The entirety of Vega's body trembled and she held him yet closer. It was as if it all became real just then, and her safety and mental stability relied solely upon this man who did nothing more than hold her for a short time.

The fear was that eventually it would cease to exist. The reality was this had been the stablest her life had ever been. "Artamis..."

Artamis carefully moved Luna away from the wreckage of the whiskey bottle. During this time he felt her return the embrace and her hold tighten, which furthered the easing of his once-racing mind. He managed to soothe himself, and it nearly felt like she was unwinding as well. Away from the destroyed bottle, he noticed she was crying. He didn't know what to do, so he relied on what his instincts and... some other intuition... were telling him to. He gently cradled the back of her head and tightened his embracing arm around her trembling form.

Something in the back of his head clicked, and he could feel her worry. He couldn't explain how, or why, but when she spoke his name he looked down at her yet again. He cupped her cheek in his palm and traced his index and middle fingers down her jaw, resting under her chin and lifting it up just slightly.

He hesitated, a myriad of what-ifs racing through his mind. With a shove of willpower, he discarded those notions and worries.

He leaned in slowly, carefully, and after moments of eternity his lips met hers.

They were just two runaways surviving; balance, she supposed. Where she had weakness, Artamis had strength. She felt that now, clinging to the physicality of it by threads, having fallen from her shell. When they moved, she simply complied, bow to a generous request. The broken glass probably would have done her some good though. Pain was always a harsh reminder. One she was not given the choice to have. Luna was grateful for that, at least for now.

When their lips finally met, the pirate had melted. Compliance again, giving no reaction other than allowing it. There was a pause and she held back, sending a hand up to overlay the one he had cupped her chin with. She was breathless for those seconds...minutes, until he met her gaze and held it.

That was when her lips brushed along his ear, nose along his jaw, nuzzling her way to his mouth.  It gave him time... time to refuse and turn away. Or time to enjoy a sensation he had yet to experience. This was his choice, it always had been. It was feather light exchanges of flesh- soft and smooth, nothing that lingered too long.

The rampant thoughts of uncertainty and escape were fleeting now. Hesitation took only fractions of seconds and second-guessing had been eliminated. He wasn't scared or nervous anymore. He felt a comfort he'd never known before and wanted these moments to last. Perhaps not just in reality, but in his memories. Every sensation, every light touch, sent a new wave of... warmth, for lack of a better description, through his body. Racing from whatever nerve was contacted to the rest of his body. This hypnosis of a sort was self-inflicted. Even the fleeting notions of puling away were swept into the sea of abandoned thought by her hand on his. Uncertainty melted as her lips met his ear.

Time slowed for fractions of seconds, and he found in himself a new facet. Unlocked a part of his mind he'd been deprived of for roughly a decade. Even if this moment was to be a rarity, and temporary, he cherished the moment rather than the potential. His analytically-programmed mind ceased its incessant thinking and he lived for now. Time resumed normal flow, and when her lips neared his by fractions of inches, he moved in tandem with her until their lips met yet again, this time his motion held more passion and less delicacy. The purity of the moment was retained, but the troubled air had long gone. There was no longer a "What if" hovering over his head. It was discarded with the rest of his troubles.

There was requiem for her past; it melted like fresh snow and was absent now. While she wept for what she knew, it was tears of delectation. Only tender inventions made up by his mouth drove it away. Artamis had replaced it with unfettered emotion, rivaling only the stars surrounding them and her own passion. It had to have been perfect and not. His rapture was new and hers, wanton.

The whiskey on his tongue could still be tasted and it was a calling of its own. It was sweet as her mouth was hot. Her lips swept across his, hungry and soft. Slender digits had made way to comb through his short mane and hold him closer. Though his hold on her was technically the only way the woman was standing. Emotions and whiskey ran rampant through her and the struggle to overcome them was getting harder by the minute.

To be able to enjoy such a thing, you had to be consumed by it.

"ETA is in two hours and ten minutes at oh-twelve hundred galactic standard time."

OOC: Since we discussed what the quote thing was supposed to be, but it's not really valid, I'll just ignore it.

IC
Artamis' form somehow intertwined with Luna's, the plays of feeling and emotion no longer battling in his psyche but dancing to a melody of the hearts. It was strange, and he felt light. It was nearly a disconnected feeling with his contact to the woman in his arms being the anchor, the tether to reality. The only indication this wasn't some fantasy that he was magically fathoming in his sleep. Awhile yet he held her and they kissed, yet progression's hand is ever-pressing.

Gently, he broke their intimate contact and laid her upon the bed. He leaned over her and ran his lips like a whisper up her neck, before they returned to her lips. His heart began to beat faster, and he found himself unthinkingly working at the fasteners of her and his clothing. It was as if he was overtaken by some wild desire, a part of him he'd never before been able to know.

[As the scene progresses, the world transitions to darkness. Time passes...]

Artamis lie beneath the covers with Luna, their nude forms pressed together on the small bed. He'd just woken from a small nap, and the only light that illuminated the room was of the chrono on the desk. The door had been closed at some point during their... moment. He gingerly sat up, and looked down at Luna. He was a little confused, again. Did this all mean something... or was it just a passing moment? The worries threatened to flood his mind again, but he pushed them away in favour of a different thought. He'd read in one of the books that Zoochberry Cream was a bit of an upper-class drink and one you would drink to relax. He decided to try it out.

He stepped down from the bed onto the cold floor, and padded his way to the lounge. He retrieved the bottle, and a couple of short glasses, and returned to the room. He sat back on the bed and opened up the bottle, then he poured himself a glass and reclined against the headboard of the small bed and sipped the drink. The alcohol in this was much different than that of whiskey. It was smooth and flowed nicely, accented by the berry flavour and the cream. This was something he could definitely enjoy...

He looked at Luna again.
...and so was the company of this woman. Not only in the carnal sense they'd just partaken in, but she seemed to be quite the interesting individual, and more vulnerable than she let on. He wanted her to stay around, be part of his fledgling crew, maybe more? He wasn't sure. He took another sip and let the gentle influence of the alcohol ease away his rampant thoughts.

The reason she held on...

Somewhere along the way his naiveté blurred the lines of oblivion. He had taken her to a high of innocence, purity- a territory Luna had never traveled until now. He had given her something that no one else had. The cloud was soft and welcoming, conforming in every which way she moved. It hugged and held her struggle. She only wished she could have given him that. Instead, it was what she knew, what she was. Artamis deserved more than that.

The breath was gone from her, her eyes stole shut, tattoos that danced along her flesh peeked from under the covers. What her legs were once wrapped around ceased to rest there anymore and the cool air nestled and swam where he had rested. How had the line been crossed? Why had he? It's no matter, she thought and pulled the thin sheet up to where it would cover her bottom and most of her lower back.

Luna was on her stomach, head tilted atop the pillow and the palm of her hand, streams of various dark colors of hair a mess atop both. The room was cool, her exposed back  and shoulders were covered in goosebumps, but somehow her skin stayed heated. Her mind reeled, because the musings of the body usually filled a single void. There were no emotions to ponder after. This new feeling was just that, new.

The comfort it brought, the thoughts it elicited had her sighing into the pillow. It could have meant a million things or it could have meant one. She decided then that she would simply enjoy the aftereffects  and closed her eyes to relive it again.

It was not the door opening, or the scent of cream liquor curling up the connoisseurs' nose that roused Luna from her sleep. The sense that he was near and the weight that shifted on the bed caused her eyes to flutter open. The pirate watched him silently for a few moments, studying the very basic movements. Sleep still sang a soft song in her ear, her movements slow, her voice barely a whisper. "...'allo Art."

Soft sounds escaped and she used the wall as leverage to sit up- it had taken a minute or two to accomplish such a feat what with the sheet tangled all around her legs, but she managed and gave a small, lopsided smile when she accomplished it. "Might ya wanna shaar tha'?"

They were definitely going to have to make a stop soon.

Artamis felt her small, movement and looked down to her as he took yet another sip from his glass, then he set it down and reclined into the plush pillows as she rose to say hello.

"'Ello, there." he said softly, before helping her detangle herself from the sheet that ensnared itself about her legs. His own voice faintly echoed her accent, and when he noticed he gave a small cough and tried to rid the early influence from his speech. The inquiry, he'd expected, and he produced the second tumbler glass and set it in her hands, before grasping the slender neck of the fat bottle and pouring some of the odd, yet tasty, drink into the vessel.

He set the bottle back down, and took another small sip of his own little supply of Zoochberry. His mind wandered in the silence. It wasn't uncomfortable silence, but it lingered in such a way as though to be filled. He was at a loss, however. What do you say after... he shook the thoughts away, so to speak. He sat mostly still, relaxed, enjoying the company and the beverage. Some little voice in the back of his head noted that they couldn't lounge around forever.

With a spill into her mouth, she held it there for a moment, then swallowed the liquor down. It was a bit too sweet for her taste. "I hope..." both knees were brought to her chest and she looked at him, "that I was... not bad." Soft lips moistened by Zoochberry drew into a half smile before pressing them to his, devouring his own for just seconds. Then, she was gone.

Or close. Luna crawled over him and scooped up a garment or three, a hand hanging on the door frame to look back. Even if it were just the walk to the pit she got to gather her thoughts, it would be enough. The pirate took it a step at a time, managing to pull a tanktop over her head on the journey.

The stars ahead were reality, it was that sight that brought her to sit in the pilot chair. She fumbled with undergarments, slipping it on and tossed the trousers over the arm rest. Vega drew up the map and flagged the coordinates to the next spaceport. A very big part of her wanted to go back to her cabin with him, but she had to admit that there would have to be a lot more to drink and a lot less...

Frustrated, she raked her nails through her hair.

Yeah. Emotions. Bugger those. Then again, that would just be her admitting to having feelings for him. Art... They were on a first name basis now. He didn't have to know and she didn't have to admit it, so long as they kept the ship stocked. Luna rubbed her still goose-prickled thighs and sighed.

"Estimated arrival time is twenty-two galactic standard minutes."

The pirate sighed, propping her feet up on the controls, careful not to send them off course,and wiggled her red paint-chipped toes. She sank further into the seat, content, alive, and in way over her head.