♦♦ 33RD CONTRACT - ANONYMOUS TEXT/ACTION

[mortemscintilla]

...Back again.

I could do without the psychic jetlag. No worse for the wear, despite it.

[ Anonymous Text ]

Sing A Song of Sixpence 
The Child's Rhyme A Lie
1 & 20 Blackbirds
Baked As They Die 

[ Do not be alarmed. It's a code, not threats of animal abuse. Simply Hei's way of testing the Network-waters. ]

[ Private to Yin ]

Are you all right ...?

Status?

[ Private to Pai ]

I'm at the safehouse.

[ Options For Run-Ins ]

Cafe: He's assumed 'Li's persona -- timid and dopey-faced. A walking chameleon. But right now, blending with the scenery isn't his priority. The opposite. He's utilizing the freedom afforded by the City to stick out. To play chicken with himself -- after months of paranoid caution. You'll see him seated at the corner, with an unobstructed view of the cafe's interior. Elbow-deep in several platters of fried food, gorging like it's his last meal on earth.

It's his sixth. But fugitive life does wonders for an already freakish appetite.

Dojo: Avoiding the facility’s tangle of Life Cycles and Cybex machines, he's focused on a series of punches, blocks, and kicks to the air that, to the uninitiated, might look like a martial dance routine. It's a kata, but nothing formal or stylized. He has no interest in revealing the full scope of his abilities. Even so, his moves are good -- smooth, practiced, and powerful. They would be impressive in any grizzled combat veteran, but this guy seems at least half that age.

His visit to the dojo isn't an indulgence, or a way to burn off energy. It's a way of reassuring himself that his enemies-- his real enemies -- really are all back home. Or it could be a way of saying come out, come out, wherever you are.

The Underground: In his absence, things have moved around. Locations have changed; reigns of power have switched hands. But it's nothing too drastic. Masked, alone, he propels himself into his first patrol of the year. He feels almost like a kid, a high school student, gone away during summers -- not to visit family and friends but off to anonymously toil in some big city. Now he's back from big travels -- big character-altering, mind-boggling travels. And somehow, the cliche is true: everything in the City seems slightly tepid after having experienced all that disasters and miracles back home.

Of course, it's never a good idea to imagine there is anything tepid about the City. Not so long as it brews with such indefinable magic. Things that pour out of it, or gravitate to it, large or small, are never harmless. In that department, even Hell's Gate has nothing to boast of in comparison.

Anywhere Else: Invent your own setting! You know the drill! c:

[ OOC: Officially off hiatus, and Hei is back in the City, after a brief canon update! Post is anonymous and unhackable as always! Tags will be sporadic so your patience is appreciated<3 ]

Comments

[mortemscintilla]

[ The cooldown happens by degrees, a slow descent into sanity. His breathing, then the slackening of his muscles, and after that he can start to process the world again -- but only in bits and pieces. He doesn't roll off Korra. At least not at once. There's sweat at his temples, arms closed loosely around her, and there's a sloppy sort of gratitude in the way he kisses her, his eyes half-lidded and his lips flushed from it. Not pounding her anymore. Just thanking her. He feels undone, completely unraveled, and there's enough sense returning that it's terrifying. ]

[ Maybe that's the reason why his voice sounds so quiet when he murmurs, ]

We're both going to need painkillers.

[anatural]

Mmmm. [When he rolls off her, she'll roll with him, resting her head against his chest. She's not going to give him the space she usually does; another penalty for his treatment earlier. He still owes her. (Like it's a simple debt to be repaid.) She nuzzles his shoulder and half-sighs, half-yawns.] Probably.

[Sleep sounds more important than painkillers, to be honest.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ There's a familiar instinct to nudge her off. To reassert his own space, even if it's in the confines of his mind. But he doesn't want to be separated from her warmth, from her sticky delicious flesh. All that's present is a desire to stretch his legs. Catlike, he ripples against her, face split by a yawn of his own. How exhausted he feels, after what was, after all, so brief. He doesn't want to fall asleep; at the same time, it's a fast-encroaching inevitability. With sluggish fingers, he knots up and tosses the condom. Then he's scooching in beside her, Korra's leg caught between his two, settling his cheek on the top of her head. Completely limp, as if he's been poured across her. ]

[ One hand goes to her breast, smoothing it with a soft rhythmic motion. In a whisper, he amends, ]

Lots of painkillers.

[ Just a warning, that he might wake her up again at some point in the night. ]

[anatural]

[She huffs a little with sleepy laughter.]

I can't tell if that's a threat or a promise.

[Lies. She's already looking past the much-needed sleep to when they'll be able to do this again.]

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei almost smiles, his breathing slowly deepening out against Korra's skin. One hand continues skimming her body: breast, belly, sex, thighs -- languid, exploratory. Part of him thinks, even now, that cuddling is deplorably overrated. At the most, something so popular should be more convenient. His bones are digging into the blunt edges of Korra's, the bed is almost too narrow for this, he soon won't be able to feel his right hand and, honestly, he's already lost sensation along his right leg. But the warmth, the softer parts tucked together, the folds of You-Me gathered neatly in a mismatched braid ... it all makes it work. ]

[ His slurred whisper vibrates against her temple. ] Depends on the mood I wake up in. [ Not that he won't make it worth her while, either way. ]

[anatural]

Just don't make me hurt you.

[mortemscintilla]

[ Hei starts to say, I won't. Unless that's what I'm angling for. ]

[ But now isn't the time for snark. His eyelids are so heavy. He wants to stay awake as long as she is; this is the first time he's talked to her like this since they've started this maelstrom of an affair. His hand finds its way between her thighs, instead, palm pressing against her. A strange possessive gesture, but his lips are soft when he tips a kiss to her forehead. ]

[ Saying Goodnight, somehow, seems both too formal and too final. So he doesn't bother. Just lets his eyes slip shut, and curls closer as the darkness settles in. ]