tenses as Miles is hauled forward -- between patchy memories of sudden loss and the relationship they're building now, Bel is fully aware that the urge to pull him back and body-check the stranger in the face is not entirely justified by the facts. the urge to shake him until an explanation falls out is rather more familiar, but Bel manages to heroically subdue that temptation (for now).
it all emerges in a rush, Miles beaming and the... new recruit-trainee?... seeming expectant? hopeful? surprised not to be recognized after whatever the hell that body-morph had been, flesh running liquid over impossibly melting bones -- hackle-raising if real. the last recruit-trainee Miles had surprised Bel with had been just as much of a shock; this one could probably have claws too, if she felt like it. the urge to shake him does not subside.
the name, though. that name.....
it's not memory but a hot bolt of knowing, highlighting the stranger in vividly active color. the smile, the cant of her head -- nothing about her is familiar. but it should be. it's right there, and it's just out of reach, and it's maddening.
better to underplay it, probably. better than offering false hope.]
Nothing comes to mind. [lips press together, a tight, fleeting expression before focusing on Zam. if this is legit, she deserves more than being sprung on Bel like a neurotherapy flashcard.] The Ingress saw fit to bury my memories before dropping me back on my ship. They've been... difficult to dig back up.
[a glance at Miles] Maybe we should take this to the tac room. [better than the corridors, for business such as this.]
[ miles doesn't resist the hug at all, even laughing, but he does a slight take at last week -- is that possible? he'd only just arrived at ausland a day or so ago himself, so... but why would bel remember then, there, but not now? had bel come and...gone back again? what? his hands freeze mid-air, listening to bel's halting response. this can't be any easier for them than it is for zam and...miles swears he catches some flicker in her there. he nods at bel's suggestion -- good one, bless them -- and jerks his chin at zam, waving her along. ]
C'mon, it's just the next deck up. [ he falls into step next to zam, buzzing with curiosity. ] So where were you coming from, anyway?
[Zam stares at Bel, brow knitting in confusion.] That doesn’t make sense, [she protests, but then they’re moving out of the brig and Miles is asking questions. She looks between him and Bel as if searching for something they’re not telling her.]
I… we came here from the Midway Hub. Got spit out somewhere you called Escobar. [She looks at Bel when she says it, expression still at a loss.] You did remember. You still should. [One week shouldn’t make this much of a difference. After all, Zam and Miles had clearly retained their own memories.]
You didn't sustain any head trauma in the last week, did you?
Tell me what does make sense. [a thin, ironic smile, falling in as they move up the corridor, glancing at Zam over Miles's head. the bewildered protests of recognition could be an act, but something in Bel doesn't think so. not this time. there were probably other times...? but not this time.]
That's lucky. Escobar's a fairly convenient hub. So you made some inquiries, were directed to Ausland, and encountered our crewman [it would be Danio] by chance when you'd arrived?
[the lift decants them and they file into 'Tac, Bel heading for their usual seat, reflexively activating a privacy cone for extra security; the slight shimmer around them all foils any hypothetical ears at the door.]
Did I? [i don't remember lolololol] Good question. [relenting a little] Our medtech says no -- not recently, at least.
[now, though, there's a chance for a closer look at the newcomer, unimpeded by force fields or curious crew. straightening from the console, Bel stops almost shoulder to shoulder with Zam, and with the Betan disregard for galactic bubbles of personal space reaches up to turn the shapely face to the light, eyes searching.
[ miles shoots a confused look between the two of them. okay, he's feeling a little less jolly about this reunion, but -- no, dammit, bel will remember. they just need a little time. they've already started to remember some things. ]
Escobar? You were on Escobar a week ago? [ that...shouldn't be possible, considering how long they've been at ausland. his brow furrows. ] It must be some Ingress horseshit. It never makes any damned sense, and I think it's got a very suspect sense of humor.
I recognized his uniform. Seemed like the most surefire way of getting close to you two.
[She'd succeeded, though this is far from the reunion she'd envisioned. Given the circumstances, she isn’t expecting Bel to suddenly close the distance between them. A flurry of emotions flashes across Zam’s face at Bel’s touch—hope, desire, apprehension—only to shutter to disappointment when nothing changes in her (former?) friend’s gaze.
She steps back from Bel and turns to Miles, giving a huff of unhappy laughter at his words.] I always suspected that karking machine had it in for me. [Zam could almost mistake it for deliberate cruelty, the way it had given her a few elated moments with Bel before ripping them—and their memories—away. Maybe it was.
She looks back at Bel, still hovering at the edge of her space.]
Miles must’ve told you about the Moira. Does any of it sound familiar at all?
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tenses as Miles is hauled forward -- between patchy memories of sudden loss and the relationship they're building now, Bel is fully aware that the urge to pull him back and body-check the stranger in the face is not entirely justified by the facts. the urge to shake him until an explanation falls out is rather more familiar, but Bel manages to heroically subdue that temptation (for now).
it all emerges in a rush, Miles beaming and the... new recruit-trainee?... seeming expectant? hopeful? surprised not to be recognized after whatever the hell that body-morph had been, flesh running liquid over impossibly melting bones -- hackle-raising if real. the last recruit-trainee Miles had surprised Bel with had been just as much of a shock; this one could probably have claws too, if she felt like it. the urge to shake him does not subside.
the name, though. that name.....
it's not memory but a hot bolt of knowing, highlighting the stranger in vividly active color. the smile, the cant of her head -- nothing about her is familiar. but it should be. it's right there, and it's just out of reach, and it's maddening.
better to underplay it, probably. better than offering false hope.]
Nothing comes to mind. [lips press together, a tight, fleeting expression before focusing on Zam. if this is legit, she deserves more than being sprung on Bel like a neurotherapy flashcard.] The Ingress saw fit to bury my memories before dropping me back on my ship. They've been... difficult to dig back up.
[a glance at Miles] Maybe we should take this to the tac room. [better than the corridors, for business such as this.]
no subject
C'mon, it's just the next deck up. [ he falls into step next to zam, buzzing with curiosity. ] So where were you coming from, anyway?
no subject
I… we came here from the Midway Hub. Got spit out somewhere you called Escobar. [She looks at Bel when she says it, expression still at a loss.] You did remember. You still should. [One week shouldn’t make this much of a difference. After all, Zam and Miles had clearly retained their own memories.]
You didn't sustain any head trauma in the last week, did you?
no subject
That's lucky. Escobar's a fairly convenient hub. So you made some inquiries, were directed to Ausland, and encountered our crewman [it would be Danio] by chance when you'd arrived?
[the lift decants them and they file into 'Tac, Bel heading for their usual seat, reflexively activating a privacy cone for extra security; the slight shimmer around them all foils any hypothetical ears at the door.]
Did I? [
i don't remember lolololol] Good question. [relenting a little] Our medtech says no -- not recently, at least.[now, though, there's a chance for a closer look at the newcomer, unimpeded by force fields or curious crew. straightening from the console, Bel stops almost shoulder to shoulder with Zam, and with the Betan disregard for galactic bubbles of personal space reaches up to turn the shapely face to the light, eyes searching.
softly] Odds are I'm just unlucky.
no subject
Escobar? You were on Escobar a week ago? [ that...shouldn't be possible, considering how long they've been at ausland. his brow furrows. ] It must be some Ingress horseshit. It never makes any damned sense, and I think it's got a very suspect sense of humor.
no subject
[She'd succeeded, though this is far from the reunion she'd envisioned. Given the circumstances, she isn’t expecting Bel to suddenly close the distance between them. A flurry of emotions flashes across Zam’s face at Bel’s touch—hope, desire, apprehension—only to shutter to disappointment when nothing changes in her (former?) friend’s gaze.
She steps back from Bel and turns to Miles, giving a huff of unhappy laughter at his words.] I always suspected that karking machine had it in for me. [Zam could almost mistake it for deliberate cruelty, the way it had given her a few elated moments with Bel before ripping them—and their memories—away. Maybe it was.
She looks back at Bel, still hovering at the edge of her space.]
Miles must’ve told you about the Moira. Does any of it sound familiar at all?