[ He lays a kias to her head as her weeping comes under control. He'll give it to their captors: They've confused her effectively. Some Terran interrogators like to finesse their sessions similarly, plucking strings of pleasure between cacophanous onslaughts of pain. Agonizers wouldn't allow for it if it didn't work.
There are prisoners who become complete strangers to themselves outside of the booth. ]
Another submissive. I didn't know them. They did not want to do it either. The city thought it would be interesting to make a submissive punish another submissive. I guess it worked.
( The affection feels nice just now and it isn't normal between them but she enjoys it anyway. It's different but no less enjoyable. )
[ Lorca doesn't typically mind providing aftercare, to his own standards. He'll clean her up if he's exhausted her, treat any cuts he's made that are beyond her reach (and more, according on his mood). Depending on the day, he'll spend the night with her, and very occasionally, he'll still be there in the morning.
Every consequence allocated to his actions. He resents picking up after someone else, let alone a Submissive. Maybe this is a test. If they had provided him a first aid kit, even a damn towel, he could at least do something with his hands. Instead he can't do much more than glower where she can't see and stay mindful not to hold her tighter. ]
( Chapel gives the name. She knows that Gabriel won't let her get away with not telling him and that he has his own sense of justice. Giving the name means that person is exposed but it doesn't matter, does it? )
It's over now, at least. It's better that it wasn't another dominant, I think.
[ Good girl. Lorca smooths her hair back, taking a measured breath. It's no one he recognizes either, which softens the blow. He'll do whatever is necessary to keep them from Christine. What they did to her isn't for them to rectify. He's going to be the one to make it right, for the both of them. ]
Because another dominant has the right to do it again if they want to. Submissives only have rights because their Dominants give them to them. You let me have a job and make my own money - some can't.
I'm not afraid I'm going to be grabbed off the street or anything but things I share with you aren't things I want to share with anyone else. Our dynamic is important to me.
( Chapel thinks this is the first time she's put it into so many words and while she doesn't intend to be openly affectionate about it, she is appreciative and respectful of Gabriel and what he does for her and with her. )
[ His voice is lowered, raking harsher as a whisper. His hand rests protectively, covetously, over her disheveled hair.
He doesn't want to share with anyone else either. He likes her, it's true, but more important than that: their dynamic is one of dependence. Friends, colleagues, lovers, he encourages these for her. In this one respect, he wants her without anyone else to whom she can turn. ]
No one but you. Only you. I can trust you to only go as far as I can handle. I can't trust anyone else with that.
( He's touching her hair and it soothes her; this is softer than they ever get with one another, really, and it's nice even though she knows it won't always be like this. )
[ She could trust someone else with that, if she chose to. The best outcome would be that this sours her on that prospect. But it doesn't matter as long as they're at the mercy of thr facility. In here, choice is a cruel privilege reserved for the experiment chambers. ]
I need you too, Christine.
[ A true believer. Imperfect, but steadily improving. She can be made stronger for faltering. ]
I want you to take it off me. All of what they did? I want you to erase it. We don't have the tools for it here, though. Not everything we would need for it. I feel like if I had a clean slate, I could just push it down like I did the war.
( Treating it like combat seems to be the best way to look at it and she can shake it off and move on from it. It won't be the first time the city does something, after all. This intimacy with Gabriel, though, is new and welcome. )
[ That surprises him. He intended to propose the same thing, once some time had passed. Her momentary weakness must have made him forget this is Christine Chapel, the woman who strategically signed her rights over to him the day after they met. She doesn't subscribe to the slow and cautious method when results are within reach.
His pulse picks up, gaze sharpening on the door. Boring through it, at everyone who would take her away. ]
Rest. [ He strokes her hair. ] I'll give you what you want. You have my word.
( Chapel tucks her head against him a little tighter and reaches for his hand, wanting to try and lace their fingers together. She's dependent on this, dependent on how he cares for her after he breaks her apart. No one else can do this for her. No one else ever has done this before. )
[ Lorca looks down at their hands. His consideration occurs imperceptibly; he's already acquiescing before the decision to solidifies in his mind. These are extraordinary circumstances. She shouldn't expect this of him on a consistent basis.
At her question, he works his jaw. He won't give her false hope, just facts. ]
I don't know about soon, but I doubt we'll be kept indefinitely. They've rounded people up in the past, tossed them into a camp. Down a pit. It ends, eventually. There's a chance this will be different, but they've let us keep this. [ He turns his wrist, indicating his bracelet. Her collar purchased to match. ] If they were going to remove us permanently, why not dissolve our contracts?
I still belong to you, then. At least we still have those choices. Besides, they want us to be contracted here so if they start screwing with it, people are less likely to want the contracts. I don't want to contract with anyone else. I'm sure someone else from Starfleet would do it but it doesn't matter. It isn't what I want.
( Chapel feels more secure right now because she's had some time to process things and she's been held for a while and comforted. There's a call over some sort of intercom system that says they're done with them and Chapel gives Gabriel a look. )
[ His glare snaps back to the door. He loathesit because he doesn't know what to make of it. What purpose this interlude (for him; reprieve for her) was meant to serve, and if it's conclusion signifies success or failure. ]
I don't know. [ Muscles tense, he moves off the bed with her and ensures she's steady on her feet. Putting up a fight would cause more harm than good. Lorca focuses on her, brushing his thumb along an unbruised span of her cheek. ]
Keep hold of who you are. Remember what I promised you. If we can't take it off, we'll make it ours.
( It's clear that they are going to be sprung loose and Chapel is given scrubs to wear even if they aren't the clothes she came in with. At this point, she doesn't care. It's something to wear and she can go home and wear whatever she does or doesn't want to behind the door of her own house. She squeezes his hand again before dropping it. )
Better go put on my brave face, huh? I'm good at that.
( Chapel settles into quiet on the way home but it's a calm quiet, not the traumatized quiet from before. She feels a little more herself the longer she's away from that facility and the way she'd been made to do things with people she didn't want to be with (and didn't want to be with her, either).
Her normal ritual when coming home is to see if Gabriel's there and then follow his lead if he is. This is different. )
[ The silence is stiff. Lorca doesn't look at her, or the city they pass through as they near his townhouse. He focuses on a fixed, far-off point that is nothing and nowhere. A bump in the road and his jaw locks. On arrival, he bites down on a grunt, rising out of the seat.
Inside, he remains guarded against any sense of relief. When Christine speaks, he ought to tell her, "Of course not." He could at least look at her.
Instead, he responds with a tired, ] No. [ He doesn't mind. He couldn't care less. ]
( That's how it is with them normally and it's normal that she craves. Nothing about the experimentation was normal but Gabriel being curt with her is what usually happens - maybe she shouldn't welcome it but she does. It means nothing has changed. )
[ He nods and leaves her, ascending the stairs. He craves a bath himself, as well as silence and solitude. The shared meals and quarters wore on him as much as the treatment from the guards and scientists did. And then there were the lashings from Qi'ra, the wounds from which layered every encounter thereafter with significant pain. They aren't so fresh as to require Christine's attention, or prevent him from returning to work tomorrow.
He can't afford to miss a step.
Lorca soaks for well over an hour, shades lowered and lights dimmed to near darkness. When all heat has vanished, he pulls himself out. Lip curling as he cranes his neck, he gets his first look at the damage in the mirror. Red marks faded pink, long streaks striping his skin from back to thigh. Worth it, for what they gain him, yet he's never been more personally invested in acquiring a dermal regenerator. He dries off and dresses in loose, dark silk, soothing the memory of raw, utilitarian scrubs with cool luxury.
He catches up on the network and pays absent mind to the tribble until night begins to fall. He seeks her out, then. Less terse than when last he spoke, he offers her the command to follow, ] Come and have a drink with me.
( This is how they are. For two people in a relationship, they spend a good bit of time in their own company or in the company of others but this dynamic is perfect for her. She doesn't feel as if she's drowning the way she has with others who want all her attention all the time and she gets enough attention to think she's wanted. When Gabriel asks her to have a drink with him, she gives him a quick nod. )
Of course. You want me to play bartender or did you already have something in mind?
You know I like my drinks simple, but I'll let you pour.
[ A bottle looks better in her delicate hands, and she looks good serving. Lorca nods towards the stairs, indicating they'll be spending the night on the top floor. The view at night is no small part of why he bought the place. The floor-to-ceiling windows and spacious balcony couldn't be a further cry from the concrete cells they spent the last week in. ]
( As much fun as a cocktail can be, whiskey neat is always a good way to end an evening and so she ends up pouring for them both, putting away the bottle before passing Gabriel's glass into his hand. His first, then her own. If they're spending the night upstairs, she wants to be on her best behavior. )
I'm only having the one. I want my head clear.
( It's her personal rule for these things and while she trusts him enough to have sex drunk, she likes to have her senses sharp when they do because of what they do. Alcohol numbs the thrill. )
[ He notes the implication as he drinks, and contemplates. One or two drinks might be best for him, as well. He'd like to lose himself in her, but that's more dangerous than usual. As normal as they're pretending to be, neither of them are altogether well. Christine wants to handle the ordeal like a Terran but she isn't one.
And he is. If she has to tap out, he may not accept that with his typical composure. ]
Then I trust you're one hundred percent certain of that decision.
[ And the ones that follow. There's an undertone of warning in his voice. This isn't like any other night, and he'd say as much if not for how badly they both want it to be. He'll play this game with her, if she accepts the additional risks. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cryptofascist) wrote2023-08-07 04:42 pm
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There are prisoners who become complete strangers to themselves outside of the booth. ]
Who was it?
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( The affection feels nice just now and it isn't normal between them but she enjoys it anyway. It's different but no less enjoyable. )
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Every consequence allocated to his actions. He resents picking up after someone else, let alone a Submissive. Maybe this is a test. If they had provided him a first aid kit, even a damn towel, he could at least do something with his hands. Instead he can't do much more than glower where she can't see and stay mindful not to hold her tighter. ]
I didn't ask if they wanted to do it.
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It's over now, at least. It's better that it wasn't another dominant, I think.
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Why is that?
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I'm not afraid I'm going to be grabbed off the street or anything but things I share with you aren't things I want to share with anyone else. Our dynamic is important to me.
( Chapel thinks this is the first time she's put it into so many words and while she doesn't intend to be openly affectionate about it, she is appreciative and respectful of Gabriel and what he does for her and with her. )
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[ His voice is lowered, raking harsher as a whisper. His hand rests protectively, covetously, over her disheveled hair.
He doesn't want to share with anyone else either. He likes her, it's true, but more important than that: their dynamic is one of dependence. Friends, colleagues, lovers, he encourages these for her. In this one respect, he wants her without anyone else to whom she can turn. ]
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( He's touching her hair and it soothes her; this is softer than they ever get with one another, really, and it's nice even though she knows it won't always be like this. )
I need you that way.
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I need you too, Christine.
[ A true believer. Imperfect, but steadily improving. She can be made stronger for faltering. ]
You endure what others can't.
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( Treating it like combat seems to be the best way to look at it and she can shake it off and move on from it. It won't be the first time the city does something, after all. This intimacy with Gabriel, though, is new and welcome. )
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His pulse picks up, gaze sharpening on the door. Boring through it, at everyone who would take her away. ]
Rest. [ He strokes her hair. ] I'll give you what you want. You have my word.
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( Chapel tucks her head against him a little tighter and reaches for his hand, wanting to try and lace their fingers together. She's dependent on this, dependent on how he cares for her after he breaks her apart. No one else can do this for her. No one else ever has done this before. )
Do you think they'll let us free soon, Gabriel?
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At her question, he works his jaw. He won't give her false hope, just facts. ]
I don't know about soon, but I doubt we'll be kept indefinitely. They've rounded people up in the past, tossed them into a camp. Down a pit. It ends, eventually. There's a chance this will be different, but they've let us keep this. [ He turns his wrist, indicating his bracelet. Her collar purchased to match. ] If they were going to remove us permanently, why not dissolve our contracts?
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( Chapel feels more secure right now because she's had some time to process things and she's been held for a while and comforted. There's a call over some sort of intercom system that says they're done with them and Chapel gives Gabriel a look. )
Do you think they'll let me have my clothes back?
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I don't know. [ Muscles tense, he moves off the bed with her and ensures she's steady on her feet. Putting up a fight would cause more harm than good. Lorca focuses on her, brushing his thumb along an unbruised span of her cheek. ]
Keep hold of who you are. Remember what I promised you. If we can't take it off, we'll make it ours.
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( It's clear that they are going to be sprung loose and Chapel is given scrubs to wear even if they aren't the clothes she came in with. At this point, she doesn't care. It's something to wear and she can go home and wear whatever she does or doesn't want to behind the door of her own house. She squeezes his hand again before dropping it. )
Better go put on my brave face, huh? I'm good at that.
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No one better.
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Her normal ritual when coming home is to see if Gabriel's there and then follow his lead if he is. This is different. )
Do you mind if I take a shower?
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Inside, he remains guarded against any sense of relief. When Christine speaks, he ought to tell her, "Of course not." He could at least look at her.
Instead, he responds with a tired, ] No. [ He doesn't mind. He couldn't care less. ]
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( That's how it is with them normally and it's normal that she craves. Nothing about the experimentation was normal but Gabriel being curt with her is what usually happens - maybe she shouldn't welcome it but she does. It means nothing has changed. )
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He can't afford to miss a step.
Lorca soaks for well over an hour, shades lowered and lights dimmed to near darkness. When all heat has vanished, he pulls himself out. Lip curling as he cranes his neck, he gets his first look at the damage in the mirror. Red marks faded pink, long streaks striping his skin from back to thigh. Worth it, for what they gain him, yet he's never been more personally invested in acquiring a dermal regenerator. He dries off and dresses in loose, dark silk, soothing the memory of raw, utilitarian scrubs with cool luxury.
He catches up on the network and pays absent mind to the tribble until night begins to fall. He seeks her out, then. Less terse than when last he spoke, he offers her the command to follow, ] Come and have a drink with me.
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Of course. You want me to play bartender or did you already have something in mind?
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[ A bottle looks better in her delicate hands, and she looks good serving. Lorca nods towards the stairs, indicating they'll be spending the night on the top floor. The view at night is no small part of why he bought the place. The floor-to-ceiling windows and spacious balcony couldn't be a further cry from the concrete cells they spent the last week in. ]
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I'm only having the one. I want my head clear.
( It's her personal rule for these things and while she trusts him enough to have sex drunk, she likes to have her senses sharp when they do because of what they do. Alcohol numbs the thrill. )
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And he is. If she has to tap out, he may not accept that with his typical composure. ]
Then I trust you're one hundred percent certain of that decision.
[ And the ones that follow. There's an undertone of warning in his voice. This isn't like any other night, and he'd say as much if not for how badly they both want it to be. He'll play this game with her, if she accepts the additional risks. ]
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