inbox.

[nightmarist]

Comments

[nightmarist]

We'll figure it out.

[aberrant_type]

Are you free now?

[nightmarist]

Unfortunately.

[aberrant_type]

Great! Let's get both these jobs done. Baseline and, mm, environment. Your place or mine?

[nightmarist]

Wherever you want your weird space thing to be.

[aberrant_type]

My place, then.

[She sends him the address.]

[nightmarist]

Incoming.

[Two seconds later, there's a burst of strange light and then... Ronan, leaning up against the wall right next to Hange like he was there the whole time.]

[aberrant_type]

[He's come into a place of organized chaos. Hange's kitchen, that is, which blends into a tiny little living room. That's just about the entirety of the first floor of her house, and the whole places gives off the impression of organized chaos. There are books everywhere, and plants everywhere, on the windowsills and even growing up the walls. She has a split sink, and one side is full standing water that's obviously been there for a while. Two lotuses are growing in it, and some lilypads. Somehow, the sink is NOT full of dirty dishes, and the clean ones sit in a drying rack next to the sink (thank you, Yato, for the housekeeping).

Hange was sitting at her kitchen table, where there's a tiny little space cleared out for her to sit and eat or do stuff. The rest of it is covered in books.

She flinches away when Ronan appears.]

Fuck!

[nightmarist]

[He doesn't move from his spot - which doesn't make him any less spooky, really, what with all the looming.]

Hi.

[aberrant_type]

Appear outside next time! Knock on the door!

[WhAT'S WRONG WITH YOU KID??]

[nightmarist]

We're about to undertake symbiosis and you're freaked out by this?

[aberrant_type]

No.

[Kind of? Whatever. She shoves her communicator away from her and stands.]

Do I appear in your house? Honestly. I walk onto your property and knock on the door.

[nightmarist]

You would definitely appear in my house unannounced if you could.

[aberrant_type]

Untrue! I've never even spontaneously grown something on your property that you didn't know was going in there.

[nightmarist]

[This is a face that doesn't believe a word she just said.]

[aberrant_type]

[it's the truth, she made a point of it!! >:( that's why she asked about the apple trees.]

Come on. Sit here first. Take my chair. Let's do the baselines.

[in person Hange definitely seems stiffer and less buoyant than her usual. the business that needs to get done will get done, though.]

[nightmarist]

[Ronan finally moves, slinking forward and sinking into the chair.]

What does this entail, anyway? Do I piss in a cup?

[aberrant_type]

[an extremely shitty and passive aggressive smile]

I don't really have the facilities here to process piss, but I'll accept any fluids! Do you have to go?

[nightmarist]

I'm good. The only thing you're gonna learn from my piss is that I'm an alcoholic with chronic dehydration. What other fluids did you have in mind? I might need to make a few calls.

[aberrant_type]

How about some cerebrospinal fluid, hmm?

[nightmarist]

I don't know what the fuck that is.

[But he doesn't like the sound of it.]

[aberrant_type]

The fluid in your spine. Around your brain. Inside your brain.

[Hange waves her hands. An ugly sneer crosses her face briefly, then wipes away.]

Just kidding. I don't have anesthesia for you, here, or the materials to do that on hand. Another day, perhaps.

[nightmarist]

Jesus Christ.

[He really can't tell if she's joking.]

keywords

[aberrant_type]

[there's an ugly little part of her that's deeply enjoying this discomfort.]

Don't be high-strung, Ronan! It's perfectly safe, plenty of people get spinal taps done every day!

[nightmarist]

Sounds fake, but okay.

[He still cannot tell if she's joking.]