Take Off The Mask

[Alric Kuhn]

“Huh?” Alric said outloud in what was little more than a grunt.

“Oh!” He said suddenly. “The fruit.”

Right. The fruit. Yes.

Alric looked down in the bag and took out the fruit, dropping quickly into a cross legged position and distinctly look away from where Danger was still prone on all fours...though his head swiveled over towards her more than once.

He used the backpack as a sort of canvas, pulling apart the fruit and letting the skin fall away. He didn't know if they would need the skin for something later. Eventually he ended up with two sections of the fruit as well as the skin. Without waiting, he began to eat one second, saving the other for Danger.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Another blow of air would fan the small flames, then she'd draw herself up. Every now and then she'd put in another branch, then another, until there was a small fire going.


Finally, she sat back on her haunches.


The light would flicker from the fire, and she would stare at it for a few minutes in silence. Simply watching. In her mind she would mull over the week's events, what they would have to do, and how to survive the night.

A hand would go curling round another branch and she'd toss it into the small fire. By now the sky had turned into a deep indigo, stars littering the sky on a nearly moonless night.

She should probably turn to look at him, and she did, casting a glance over her shoulder towards his direction. There was a measure of relief at seeing him eat the fruit. There was one worry gone, she'd muse.

Then again, was the devil one knew all the better than one she did not?

It was hard to say.

Turning away, she would look back at her pack. Rolling to her knees, she slowly began to unpack her bedroll. The extra one she carried would soon follow suit for him.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric finished his side of the fruit which left him with an oddly satisfying full feeling.

He looked at Danger, just as she looked at him. Her head quickly snapped back and away from him, towards her pack, she took out a bedroll, then a second. He nodded. That was good. Two, then they wouldn't need a repeat of last...night.

An image suddenly flashed through his mind.

It was clearer than before, so clear that it was like it was happening in real time. The swaying of hips, the jiggling of heavy curves, the press of flesh against flesh. It became seared in his eyes, like a high definition holo-vid.

It happened so fast, it left Alric's mouth agape.

"What the..." He said trailing off in surprise.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Green eyes would cast over at Alric's direction after his cry, she's start to search around, as if perhaps he'd spotted something.

"What is it?" she'd whisper out, her hand moving over the pack as she'd duck low. She had an extra WESTAR-34 pistol in one of the pockets. A flip of a pouch, a dip of her hand, and her hand would curl over the cool metal.

"Caught any movement?" she'd pull out the blaster, checking her powercell. Her head would tilt slightly to the right, listening for anything.

Of course, this would likely be the time when Alric would starts to make some excuse about why he cried out.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

“Not anything you'd want to talk about.” He said the words in a whisper.

The fruit that he had just eaten of course was part of the reason why. It decreased libido, but it also made ones mind sharper, more focused, it allowed one to think clearer. Over the past day his mind had been clouded by heat, awkwardness, and the remnants of the Aspha serum. With the ingestion of this fruit those symptoms slowly began to fade away.

It was like a mountain fog rolling away, everything suddenly became bright. His thoughts returned to him, and what had happened, what they had done, it became clearer, more focused. His memory set to purpose, and his mind began to race with every detail. In his head Alric remembered everything. The melting tension in her body, the husky sound of her voice, the light touch of her finger tips.

All of it came flooding to him.

“Must have been a mirage.” He said a bit more loudly. “The heat.”

His hand reached out to her, offering the fruit.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

He'd be able to feel the glare. There was something about Danger that would relay exactly what she was feeling with a mere sharp pointed glance. Her's was a face that could promise delights untold or that could very well cut a man to the core, leaving him feeling as if he was little worth the dirt on her boot.

"The heat?" she'd repeat. It was clear about her expression she didn't believe that. She would tuck away the blaster and her gaze fell to the offered fruit.

There was a slight bit of hesitation there; subtle -- perhaps he'd not be able to catch it. A half second later her arm would extend. There was a gracefulness to the way her body would curve as she would lean over to take the fruit from his hand. The way it would arch, an arm up that would follow the silhouette of generous curves against the back lit of the fire.

She took the half of fruit from his hand, giving a nod in thanks. Rocking back to her bottom, she would sit down cross legged.

A bite of the fruit came next, the juice slightly coating her lips as the pale pink tip of her tongue would lick a bead of it off.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He didn't respond.

There was no point. No point at all. Anything they discussed would seem empty now, anything they said would be terse and to the point. Tempers would flare, anger would get the better of them. Alric knew that, it was clear to him now.

It wasn't the time.

Her mannerisms, her face, the way she looked at him.

Alric could simply tell. He didn't know why all of a sudden he was thinking so clearly, why his brain had reset to playing the game, but it had. He knew that right now there were no moves towards Danger that he could make, none that would end in victory, none that would end in the way he wanted them to. So he simply remained silent and ate his fruit.

Biding his time.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Minutes would pass and the night would continue to fall, as would the temperature. Things would start getting a bit interesting as the seconds would pass. The juice would weave its effects in different times for different people; difference being is that Danger knew what exactly would happen.

Now it is just an issue of trying to stop herself from over focusing. Although it is easier said than done.

And you are already failing at it Danger.

She'd chew her last bit of her fruit, fingers sticky with the lingering sap. Sticky fingers. Sticky--

Her hand in between them both, the slide of pressure and release.

The image was vibrant and in high definition. Her breath caught, then her fingers would curl.

This was going to be a long night, she would muse.

To move on, she would lean over and take one of the bedrolls in hand. With a small toss, she would send it over at Kuhn's direction.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

It was hard.

Thoughts ran so clearly through his head. Memories. Brief flashes. It was so....vibrant. He remembered every detail, every touch, every sensation, every emotion. It came to him like a flood, but his mind watched it analytically, like a film that he had seen a thousand times before.

He would look over to Danger, watch her eyes shift, her face change, and he could tell that she was thinking it too, along the same path as him. For some reason that made it so much more unsettling, so much more...unsafe. His stomach turned more than once as he thought about events, until eventually he forced his mind to drift.

Alric turned his thoughts to others. To Xo. To Silara.

He had to fight himself every step of the way, push himself. His lips turned down, and then suddenly a bedroll hit him in the side of the head. For a brief moment he looked about, then noticed the roll on the floor. “Thanks.”

Alric muttered, pressing the bedroll out onto the sands.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

A grunt was her reply.

Funny, coming from a woman who was known to be a coaxing siren of Trade.

Was this really Danger Arceneau?

Well it was certainly a facet of her. Granted, one would wonder just what side. The fire light would flicker and dance across her face, sending shadows across her cheeks and under her eyes. At a distance one could barely see the scatter of freckles over the bridge of her nose. There was a layer of grime, the salt of sweat, and wisps of red hair that would fall over her right eye.

Right now, she was normal. Human. And that added vulnerability would seep out as her mind would race. Fighting the thoughts that would go wild. Of her. Of him. It would have been easier had there not been a pink rancor in between them, but there was. And that was that he irked her. He got under her skin and that bothered her.

What is worse is that she wanted to hate him; but she couldn't. This wasn't [member="Noxu Za'tire"]. This wasn't @Narevni Garrett. This wasn't someone who'd done her wrong; it was a man that managed to crash through her superficial persona -- the woman that she'd grown to be. That she had to be.

Feth.

Her frustration would rise, and so would she. She would grab her bedroll, moving towards the opposite side of the fire to set it down.

Yeah, this was going to be a very long night.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

She moved away. That didn't surprise him. Right now she probably would've moved across the entire planet if she could have. He didn't blame her, not in the slightest. Though her movements caused thoughts to shift back to the touch of flesh and the release he had felt with her, the warm shaking of their bodies.

He found it odd.

The images that ran through his head, the memories.

They were all crystal clear, every one of them. He could see them as they were happening, and yet, he felt nothing.

Oh there was an emotional response. A strange longing, and odd feeling of mirth, but no...arousal, nothing in that department. It was odd, especially given the nature of his thoughts. Slowly, as he lay himself down in the bedroll he began to wonder.

Was there a different game going on here?

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Thing about eating this particular desert fruit, is that it is not the best way to nod off and go to sleep. Unzipping her bedroll, she would slip right in. Enclosing herself in it, she'd turn, staring into the low flickering flames of the fire, ambient heat warm warming her face.

A sigh would escape her lips, and her hands would rise up to her mouth, curling right under her chin. She lay on her side.

The beat of her heart was as quick as a panicked child; it was that awareness you see. That slight perk in mental processes and clarity of thoughts. The Tusken Raiders had used the juice of the fruit as a way to keep their focus, and it would work. Normally, the pros would be beneficial. In this case, not so much.

Her mind went wild.

Questions would plague her. Why did he come here? What had happened with Six? Did she managed to buy Blast-Tech from him?

Did he tell?

So many questions but none of the answers.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Games.

It was always about games.

Everything was a game to him. Everything was another play, another ploy, everything was a move on the Dejarik board, everything was a pazaak hand. Every little thing was a detail or a ploy in order to win a game.

Alric Kuhn may have been the only being in the galaxy who thought this way, but it had served him well. It had allowed him to accumulate vast amounts of wealth, a huge interplanetary-corporation, and anything he could really ever want.

Yet in times like this, right now, when his mind flashed to images of Danger pressed against him, pushed so close that her breath had fallen on him, it was not at all helpful.

He didn't understand this game.

Though he desperately wanted to.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

So they would lay, each in their respective bedrolls with nothing but the demons in their mines plaguing their thoughts. Trying each their best to not dwell on how the game had shifted. How it had flipped. How it had completely left them confused and uncertain.

She was better than this.

Maybe it was the heat. Having spent the past four days out in the Waste and being exposed. Maybe that was it. Had to be. Then again, Danger was an expert on avoiding that which she wasn't too keen on.

Unfortunately she couldn't just get rid of Mistah Kuhn.

His words would echo back at her - And i'm going to remind you. You didn't have to save me. It was your choice.

The Trade Queen's lips would twist into a grimace. Fething fruit.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

The game.

The rules.

The board.

What was it all about? Why had it changed so much? Why had it shifted? When had it shifted? Alric didn't know, he just...didn't. There were few things that confused him, even fewer that frazzled him. He had never been like this, he had never experienced such...confusion.

He didn't like it.

A frown settled on his lips, and he rolled around within the small sleeping bag like contraption he had stuffed himself into. His mind fell on Danger again, and then on two others who had sneaked their way into his head.

As he thought, his eyelids began to fall.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

A mind was a terrible thing. Ones own worst enemy.

Danger too would shift within the confines of her bedroll, tucking her face and head into the thick fabric. Her own body warmth would start to warm her, insulated by the high tech fabric used for the winters of the desert.

Another sigh.

She didn't know what to think -- and it was giving her a headache trying to. No, better not to question it. Just let it go. That would likely be the best course of action.

Let go and forget.

If anything, saving Kuhn's life could very well make it so she doesn't have to worry about rumor or conjecture of gossip.

At least that's what she told herself while falling asleep to a flurry of images that her mind insisting on not letting her forget.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Dreams.

They were such curious things. They were mysteries. Fleeting images of the past, present, perhaps even the future. Small snippets into what one might call the subconscious.

For Alric dreams had never been personal, they had never been anything to behold or even remember. They never held much significance if any, and they certainly never contained anything of worth.

Tonight however, they did.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

There was something to say about dreams. What measure of fantasy that would curl from the subconscious onto the fore of the mind. Fears. Desires. Goals. And Demons.

Does truth reveal itself? Or is it just twisted into a concocted fantasy of what one wishes life could be?

It is hard to say, but Danger was no stranger to that which would spur on that which she so desired to keep in the pandora's box locked up tight in her mind.

The only problem that was during slumber, one had little choice in the matter but to watch the holo-film play out.

Like a Hologram Funworld of guilty pleasures and the demons that dwell within.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Unsurprisingly Alric was the first to wake up.

He was a light sleeper compared to her, that had been found out the previous night. His eyes pulled open, groggy and covered in fine granules of sand. His hands wanted to move, but the icy sting of the air kept his entire body from shifting even the slightest. The warmth of the bedroll made him comfortable, though not half as comfortable as he had been on the previous morning.

The thought brought a frown to his face, and a glance over towards the other bedroll.

He found her there, laying still, snoring slightly, the bright light of the fire having died down to embers long ago. Alric watched her for a time, staring at her in silence.

He knew that they would have to get up soon, leave and move on, but for now they could still rest.

For now.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger wouldn't be too long behind.

She'd stir, lids lifting and taking on the dim glow of the upcoming morning light. The morning stars would twinkle, the sky painted a deep indigo that would fade in the withering dawn.

Tiny crusts would line her eyes, a mix of moisture from the morning mists, grit, and sand. Frowning, she'd rub them free along with the slumber from her eyes. Clearing them out, she'd pause after a second.

He was awake, that much she could tell.

Maybe it was the hyper awareness of the fruit that still would linger in her system, or maybe it was that heightened ability to know when a man was staring at her she'd learned in the past decade. Either way, he was staring at her.

He'd been staring at her in some form of another since she got him from that Tusken Raider camp.

Staring at her and thinking mighty hard. His expression the past few days and even more yesterday told a tale that he had plenty to say -- but he wouldn't.

For now at least.

And lordy did that send her in a mild panic.

There it was again, the focus -- the singular thought process that clarity came. Reasons upon reasons. Confusion.

No. No.

There were other things to do. Like get out of the Wastes alive.