Are you expecting SIN to conduct a room-to-room inspection? [ She asks with a raised eyebrow, purely curious. Perhaps that is standard — she wouldn't know. Despite her best efforts to study up, she learns something new about Duplicity every day. ]
You never know with them. [ he says frankly, with an undercurrent of not-quite admiration. Game begrudgingly respect game. Duplicity lets their victims learn the strictures and loopholes of the system to the point of complacency, then rips the rug out from underneath them just to prove that they can. ]
[ Michael's head tilts slightly to one side as she hums an agreement. He certainly seems to have made some peace with the inevitability of her landing him on SIN's radar, preparing ahead rather than trying to dissuade her. That tells her something about where signing her sits on his hierarchy of goals, and she doesn't like it, but she can use it. ]
Fair enough. I'll decorate. [ She means that sincerely, having recently abandoned Vulcan minimalism in favor of sentimental clutter. Anything she values too much to store under Lorca's roof is typically kept on her person anyway. ]
[ He nods in acknowledgment. Lorca won't pry unless given reason to. Validating simple, sentimental curiosity isn't worth slaking the anticipation of finding out in due course. ]
[ Her eyes fall to the bracelet around his wrist, its color scheme reminiscent of the uniform he wore as Discovery's captain. Presumably a relic from before he revealed himself as Terran. ]
I would prefer something with less bulk. [ She offers: a statement, not a request. The default pleather collar is both too thick and too heavy, its presence is a constant friction. It would be nice not to feel it quite so prominently, but nice and Lorca are rarely found in the same sentence. ]
[ He's thought about swapping the navy blue band for black, in line with his Imperial uniform, but in Duplicity, black is plain. Unremarkable.
Low status. ]
Good. [ He doesn't like how much they cover, either.
Lorca taps his device, bringing the screen to life, and pulls a folder of options from when he first signed Christine. Thin collars, though sometimes composed of multiple strands, like his bracelet. Not a single one is without a touch of gold. He slides the device over to Michael. ] Color is up to you.
[ As she takes another sip of her drink, Michael's eyes peer over the rim of the glass to scan the examples on Lorca's device. Her fingers flick across the glowing screen, panning disinterestedly between images until something catches her eye. ]
This one. [ She slides the phone back over to him. On the screen is a collar much like his bracelet, braided cord with a centered gold accent, in a pale burgundy that reminds her of the burnt sienna tones of the Cliffs of Surak. There is no looking past what the collar symbolizes but that association can be hers and hers alone. ]
[ While she browses, he steals a glance at the scar on her hand. As long as she has that, he could care less what her collar looks like. Any other Sub in this city, he wouldn't even offer the amount of choice she currently has. Christine didn't peruse those images; he made the selection for her. Should he sign someone else, they'll get what she has, in a color that suits them.
And if Michael ever rids herself of his scar, they'll revisit this conversation. Or that's the plan until she makes her choice. He smiles genuinely. ]
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cryptofascist) wrote2023-08-07 04:42 pm
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Fair enough. I'll decorate. [ She means that sincerely, having recently abandoned Vulcan minimalism in favor of sentimental clutter. Anything she values too much to store under Lorca's roof is typically kept on her person anyway. ]
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You'll need a new collar.
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I would prefer something with less bulk. [ She offers: a statement, not a request. The default pleather collar is both too thick and too heavy, its presence is a constant friction. It would be nice not to feel it quite so prominently, but nice and Lorca are rarely found in the same sentence. ]
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Low status. ]
Good. [ He doesn't like how much they cover, either.
Lorca taps his device, bringing the screen to life, and pulls a folder of options from when he first signed Christine. Thin collars, though sometimes composed of multiple strands, like his bracelet. Not a single one is without a touch of gold. He slides the device over to Michael. ] Color is up to you.
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This one. [ She slides the phone back over to him. On the screen is a collar much like his bracelet, braided cord with a centered gold accent, in a pale burgundy that reminds her of the burnt sienna tones of the Cliffs of Surak. There is no looking past what the collar symbolizes but that association can be hers and hers alone. ]
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And if Michael ever rids herself of his scar, they'll revisit this conversation. Or that's the plan until she makes her choice. He smiles genuinely. ]
I'll have it for you when you come to the house.