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Neon Hearts in Derelict Futures [Briar & AlrunaRose]

Aolieon curled her lip in grim resentment at the spam clinging that came afterwards. It wasn't like Aolieon was in a position to be messing with other people, especially since it had taken much to get her in the momentum of getting back into training, and yet here she was -- being dragged into someone else's mess. Maybe I should have just left her on read... came the thought, but when she read the messages; all of those thoughts melted into darker and quieter ones of muted concern from the touch of a huntress.

Not qutei sure
Druggd i thnk
Shlod mvoe bfofer a pig shows

Aolieon huffed, and picked herself up from her low-crawl, biting her lip and starting to whirl with different feelings. Well, that rules out consensual merriment of any kind... Her thoughts drifted back to that fateful night at Neon Hearts -- how the bruiser had effectively refused any recreational drugs of any kind -- and suddenly, Aolieon was committed to figuring out what exactly had transpired. She looked at her datapad, opened a command prompt and started typing in several coding lines on the black screen. Lines in red came up to respond, and she selected one of the three lines; echoing it with her typing and typing out an elaborate command prompt in response. A great deal of red lines of subtext followed and the datapad got particularly heated as it ran an ancient program that took up a lot of bandwidth.
Aolieon sent back a text reply of three words, and then flicked out of those apps to summon her car just outside the metro -- she then used the grim anxiety she was starting to feel to propel her forwards; using the techniques and other practices she had been reminding herself to get back up topside, with even a few unorthodox and hardly remembered acrobatic movements being used to acquire quicker momentum and faster agility. Before she had hardly known it, Aolieon had swung herself from rafters, leapt up onto I-Beams and had been prancing across thin beams and other outcroppings in heels like her life had been made to do it... causing her to be up one story too high in the construction to be on ground level. She saw her little nondescript vehicle and she promptly raced across a beam to gain momentum and leap from it strongly, landing on the roof of the vehicle before popping the door open with her stiletto and sliding into the seat expertly. She flipped open the command prompt window to make sure all the processes were running, and then flicked out of it; opening the Map so that she could start driving. She pulled her AU glasses off the dashboard, flipping them open and linking them to the datapad so she could drive hands-free and

As Therrye made her way towards East and a little bit North; some strange shapes in red and purple would begin to appear ghostly and transparent on the peripherals of her vision. A full-on glitch would occur in red and purple lines, as her optics were rebooted for a couple of seconds. As her biomonitor started pulling itself up and going through rudimentary checks that revealed more about Therrye's condition for some reason (as if she had just woken up), a big red bar would appear in front of her vision without obstructing the view; it's normal visage looking like it was going crunchy or fizzed out in certain places -- the loading bar was purple rather than red, and would begin to fill with a dynamic pace that staggered, went backwards and moved crazy fast in various spurts...
TRACING YOUR LOCATION...
The text message that popped up immediately on Therrye's visuals read something that pretty much cleared up the reason for these anomalies --

Yeah. You should.
 
While the foot traffic wasn't very heavy, there were still vehicles in the streets, and those were moving obstacles that could do a lot of damage. The speed of them in her vision and their bright lights were enough to remind her consciousness that cars bad and consequences of stepping without regard into their path would follow. Getting to a crosswalk took some concerted effort, and she swayed while waiting for the visual and auditory signals to usher her across.

Therrye didn't quite make it before the light shifted, and she nearly fell over from being startled at a car's horn. It blared at her a couple more times before its engine revved and sent the car through the intersection, the whoosh of its passage kicking up the back of the bruiser's suit jacket.

When the hacking hit, she was in the middle of another crosswalk, and the disorientation almost sent her walking straight into a car. Gesturing only slightly effectually in apology while the driver shouted at her, she pushed herself back in a direction without vehicles in its path. A couple honks later and some fraying nerves for the trouble, she was back on pavement. Between the obscuring of her visual feed and the ghostly hallucinations already coming from her brain, the space before her became a bit of a nightmare in obscured maziness and opaque color. The cartoonish images at her periphery had her head darting around with confusion and concern, and then she did stumble, falling to a knee on the sidewalk.

Staring into the mess before her and the new message from Aolieon, she thumbed a reply erratically, various different emotional responses rattling against one another.

Whatkd id youd o
 
Eventually, enough information had passed to triangulate the bio-signature to somewhere around Downtown & Corpo Plaza... the fuck she doing down there to get in such a sorry state? Aolieon shook her head, brushing a couple of pedestrian guardrails down as she almost veered off-road. NCPD pigs and other random people were already looking at her car like it was vehicular manslaughter waiting to happen, which wasn't wrong in it's assessment -- still, she sped down the road faster than it could be called in for reckless driving. Aolieon began texting while driving once she found herself on a straightaway, but was relatively quick about it.

Shh let it happen. I plan for everything, NBD. Don't run far.

Eventually, a weird station wagon of a jalopy drifted to turn into the street, taking out a pedestrian streetlamp about a block from Therrye's location. It drove down the sidewalk accelerating fast as some Corpo bitch in a pencil skirt dolphin-dove out of the way of it's path. "You crazy motherfuck--AHH!" and the car sped past the disoriented Therrye in the lane of oncoming traffic. Things looked like it might be some gang drive-by in progress, but eventually it drifted into a U-turn, wheels squealing all of the sudden and then pulling up next to Therrye -- somehow managing to find the parking lines immaculately. Crazy bitch or just a really bad driver -- no one could tell at this juncture.

Eventually, the windows rolled down, after which one wouldn't be at all judged for ducking to cover, thinking an SMG was gonna unload on them -- unfortunately, it was just the sight of Aolieon in the driver's seat; tinted windows completely obscuring the absolute arm's dealers mess in the backseat that had yet to be cleared up, but otherwise simply looking like a klepto shopping spree for iron once it was fully regarded, and not much else. "Get in!" Aolieon would spit in her general direction, working on her datapad to shut some devices off and pausing long enough to reboot Therrye's optics only once her ass was parked in seat.

Aolieon kept her calm as she drove lackadaisically throughout the streets -- after a minute or two, some more errant property damage around Night City would reveal eventually that Aolieon was just a bad driver. Not bad enough that she couldn't do what was necessary when it counts, she just did a horrible job as passing off as a model citizen. After some silence, she'd finally speak. "So, care to explain to me what you got yourself into that you feel you might have been drugged?"
 
If she'd had the presence of mind, Therrye would have just disabled her feed entirely to spare her from the visual gore. As it was, she was assailed with phantom images haunting the edges of sight yet following every turn of her head while the world remained drenched in red. Struggling between difficulties in navigation and the ratcheting paranoia caused by the disturbances Aolieon had put into her feed, she ended up at a crawl and breathing shallowly. Whatever was in her system was already making it difficult to breathe, and she'd begun shivering more fervently. She'd earned more than a few looks at this point, and someone was on their phone while staring at her, doubtlessly phoning up some cops to remove the disturbance to the pleasant sightlines of this area.

Clamorous disturbances drew her attention, and a whoosh of motion flew by her with more accompanying squeal than the others. Turning toward Aolieon, the bruiser's pupils had overtaken most of her eyes. "Aoliun?" Beyond her disheveled state, the next thing the Liandri might have noticed was the only slightly smeared impression of pink lipstick on Therrye's cheek. Not loving the shout, but feeling vaguely like this was the safer move, she crawled the few feet over to the door, fumbled with opening it, and then awkwardly deposited herself inside the car. It took a few moments longer before she closed the door, and didn't think to actually belt herself in until she was nearly thrown into the windshield from Aolieon's driving.

Though the visual gore was now gone, the dancer's erratic driving had her nearly puking into the center console, and she held her mouth and stomach. Another retch of bile would come out if she stopped for Therrye to dislodge it; otherwise she'd eventually do so out of an open passenger window.

Looking haggard and disoriented in her body and eye movements, she leaned back into the seat with a faint noise of discomfort in her throat. "Is. Waz a daet," she muttered.
 
Aolieon pursed her lips, eyelids lowering as she watched Therrye pour herself into her car. She bit her lip, seeing the sorry state she was in; lipstick smeared all over her face and just utterly a disaster. Is that what I look like going to a job? ... how many people have I left looking like that? Her eyes glowered, dilating a decent bit but not betraying the fact that the bioluminescence had kicked up, showing a faint chartreuse glow which overshadowed any distant feelings of remorse. "... 'Aoliun'? Yeah, that's my name, don't wear it out -- I was looking for a new identity. Think Ill use that handle for whenever i wanna dress like a bag lady and go trailer-hopping to beg hicks for spare change! 'Aoliun'..." she let the words vibrate from her throat with some spite; voice quiet and not yelling as she slammed the gas pedal aggressively for a second as they managed to start driving, but quickly tamed herself, driving a more sensible speed as she moved to get them out of Corpo Country. "Yeah, you say it like 'onion', not 'tachyon' -- tch," Aolieon clearly was offended by the mispronunciation of her name, but the slurring of her words werent lost on her.

When Therrye volunteered that she had been on a 'date' -- Aolieon's glowering eyes flared a little more. "Ohh, a date, was it? That's crazy..." she tapped a button on the dash, displaying a hologram on the windshield, which Aolieon clicked a point far away from them, after which a small dialogue box of blue popped up and she clicked the 'discreet' option -- it happened so fast that in not even 2 seconds, the words "AUTODRIVE ENABLED" popped up. Immediately afterwards, Aolieon reached over with her free hand to gently grab a tuft of Therrye's hair, holding it taut but not angrily behind her ears as she used he'd other hand to pull the cord round her head and jack into Therrye's biomon.
Aolieon's expression was grim, almost venomous in spite as she kept eyes locked with Therrye; the mild sickly color flaring through the transparent purple of her AU glasses as clearly the biomonitor was made to produce a full diagnostic -- the interface popped up simultaneously in reverse on Aolieon's glasses, even as she kept a mild sneer and sharpened chartreuse orbs fixated on Therrye. Once she found the information that she needed, she started erratically clicking on her datapad, pulling up the call interface to bring up Kaede before locking eyes with Therrye again. "Hey, baby. Super quick question -- I got some old heuristic aid kits; if someone's heavily poisoned or drugged and you needed them back in the fight, what would you give them?" A murmuring reply, barely heard after a beat. "Gotcha. Don't worry about it, CYA." she ended the call, and then unplugged from Therrye, fumbling back in the car that had surprisingly gotten smoother with its drive -- she came back to the front and immediately stabbed something roughly into her neck, and then applied an airhypo to her chest, pulling the double trigger and letting it fully administer before pulling it free and clambering back into the driver's seat, chucking the airhypo passive-aggressively into the backseat with a loud CLACK that threatened to shatter the back windshield, but didn't. Aolieon assumed a quiet and more comfortable position before swiping left on the windshield -- "AUTODRIVE DISENGAGED" -- aaaand immediately proceeded to bowl over some sidewalk infrastructure and get some angry catcalling directed at her. She eventually realigned with the road, but her expression was now quite cold and unfocused on Therrye -- a handful of moments of silence pervaded the air as she waited for the activated charcoal and survival booster to take effect and bring Therrye back to a relative state of consciousness.

After awhile, Aolieon's cold expression and pursed lips would be joined by narrowed eyes, as she sighed and then spoke again. "... Lift up your shirt." she'd pause, waiting for compliance. If at all she was asked why, or given any lip, Aolieon would just quietly and calmly take off her AU glasses and turn her head to calmly look at Therrye. Her eyes would widen as her pupils practically vanished in a vibrant sea of unearthed chartreuse, expression looking the iciesr it had ever been without betraying any hostile or vibrant emotions. "... do it," would be the follow-up reply, her voice low, sultry and yet altogether abyssal in its expression of restrained yet absolutely livid emotions. If Aolieon actuallg cared right now, she was doing exceptionally well at masking it, but now, as she drove and continued her lead-footed drive -- she kept throwing intermittent glances at Therrye, waiting to see if she would comply with the frosty dancer's instructions.
 
Therrye was not used to hearing Aolieon speak with such darkness in her voice, but she wasn't in much of a state to have opinions about it. She did not understand why the dancer was so upset, and that was the more confusing part about all of this. Recently she'd just been on the street, alone and dumped after whatever happened in the past two hours -- her memories were not helping whatsoever -- and now she was experiencing a menacing Liandri who sounded ready to butcher up another black site just for the satisfaction of feeling so much blood.

Did I itnerput somethign?

Swimming through so much murk was making all of this difficult to get a real read on, and was plenty distracting besides in dictating her priorities. It didn't help that Aolieon's driving had exacerbated her nausea and left feeling more scraped out from the inside of an old tin of scop. Her gaze shifted to look at her with curiosity and confusion as she moved her hair and plugged into her systems. "Whta'sw rong? ... why r yu here?"

With the rough stab and injector press, the bruiser's eyes widened and she only slightly flailed, at a lag, given her disorientation and incoordination. Muscles contracting and chemicals plunging into her system, with other particles sunk in to do their work in absorbing the toxin inside of her, she went through a series of physical responses that were altogether unpleasant. She realized she'd been holding her breath and had pressed further back into the seat, breathing hard as she gripped the sides of the car seat.

Eventually much more aware of where she was, who she was with, and what was going on, she was staring at the Liandri with a wide mix of confusion and worry. "... where are we going?" At her question, she drew back a little reflexively. "What for?" The way she insisted didn't make her feel any safer about the request; the expression lurking in her face reminded her more of a force of nature rearing up to crash down on the unsuspecting specks of life in its path than the icy dark she'd seen in her before.

Several beats passed before she reached down to unbutton the dress shirt beneath the suit jacket and start opening it up -- one of the buttons, notably, wasn't done, and the two halves of the shirt were misaligned. Therrye was herself curious about this, even though she hadn't yet realized the implications of what all had transpired. With the cloth removed, the two women could see more or less what had been visible the day of their fight at the Dojo. Tonight, however, three sets of pink lipstick prints were present, one a couple inches up from her hip bone, another near the top of her sternum, and one centered on her right breast, atop her black sports bra. The bruiser seemed plenty confused to find these traces on herself, brow furrowing as she wracked her brain to assemble the pieces available to her. Eventually she voiced the question aloud while still staring at her chest: "Why?"
 
Aolieon paused, gently depressing the brake to slow down and scan all of Therrye's body -- she was clearly looking for something else for a little bit, but when nothing but the marks of lipstick had been left on her torso -- Aolieon slowly blinked, scoffing for a second as a disappointed sigh left her throat. Her thoughts ran for a minute as she started driving again, wondering what the bruiser had gotten herself into; all of that lovely time spent, and she goes to someone who likes pink instead of purple -- like what? Did I read something wrong? There's no love marks; no signs of damage -- it doesn't match. But why then would she... Aolieon realized she was speeding up; she deceleration a bit as she got ahold of her many nerves. She heaved a sigh, trying to shove away thoughts and feelings that tugged at her, which were becoming more unfamiliar and harder to bear by the second. Aolieon clicked her tongue, swiping the windshield interface and placing a marker next to where Therrye lived -- showing that she had memorized where that was, for better or for worse. Just as she flipped a U-turn, her driving got slower, with Aolieon distracted as the thoughts in her head got louder. "Do you normally like to be unconscious when women get a chance to sink their teeth into you?"

A handful of moments of silence, where Aolieon began to slowly shake her head. The chartreuse had faded, and it seemed the light had begun to slowly die in her eyes. Her breathing could be heard, but it wasn't heavy; only dynamic. I mean, her kink is fine; I just never thought a woman who could move like that would... Is that it? She moved on, just like that? After all that I did; all those stops I pulled out, all those cards I played ... What if she just humored me and gave me a try? Like I was something worth enjoying consciously... "I guess I should consider myself lucky, shouldn't I?" Aolieon cast her a sideways glance with a cold stare, the frown indicating what might have been some feelings of pain. Aolieon continued to quietly shake her head as she drove. Her thoughts blurred and made the world spin around her, and what she was getting more aggravated about was how this had such an affect on her... Normally people flying to the next big fleeting sensation was how things were done -- no attachments had to be worried about, because she was just a blip in someone's wild ride of pleasure and debauchery through Night City, just as they were to her. And yet this bruiser comes along; makes an entire tirade acting like she cared if she was zeroed, and... well that was a fucking lie. Everything used to be fine; the rampant hedonism and promiscuity worked in Night City, it was okay... why wasn't this okay? What made this any different? ... why was it starting to hurt?!
Her thoughts returned to certain things she had heard.
... the fuck did you think was gonna happen, Li-Li?
She started biting her lip bloody again, feeling like all that effort at having her be held was just a facade. I don't know what the hell I expected... "Very lucky," she followed up. She kept driving on the roads, naturally expecting answers ... not at all wanting them. Something was sinking deep beneath and the walls were closing in. I look shitty in pink... The intrusive thoughts were just pouring out the floodgates; some offering a rational explanation, others just condemning her after all that trying she did. She felt used, in this moment -- called for an emergency, because the bruiser took some shit she wasn't prepared to take... she wanted this interaction to be over, and this girl's apartment couldn't come fast enough. Finally, Aolieon huffed, slamming her hands lightly on the wheel and turning towards her to address the question that needed answering the most, before her emotions got the better of her.
"... Did you consent?"
 
Therrye was in the midst of digging through her memories while Aolieon was playing with the vehicle's speed and direction, her gaze still fixed on her torso. The last memory she could take clear hold of was Liliya talking about debts and trust. After that, the harder she tried to grasp something, the more slippery it became. Something had clearly followed the time at the table; she had roughly two hours of time unaccounted for, even if she ended up outside of the tower that held The Windsor.

What could lay within it, though?

The bruiser scowled without anger at the dancer's question. "No," she stated emphatically. "What would the point of..." She exhaled after trailing off, suddenly realizing she was blushing a little, and not quite understanding why she was currently blushing. So much felt like it had happened so quickly and she was still playing catch-up, even with what she did remember. "Lucky?" Her meaning wasn't clear to her, and she wasn't sure that would have changed if she hadn't been recently drugged. "I don't know -- fuck, this isn't making any sense," she growled, aggravated with the struggle to make her thoughts clear. After a press of her fingers to her eyebrows, she exhaled again, trying to get some clarity. ".... I don't know why you came to get me, but -" she swallowed, then, feeling a blend of embarrassment, regret, and debt, "- thank you."

The question that followed wasn't what she expected -- honestly, she was still surprised that the dancer cared in the first place -- but her expression immediately said her response before she even spoke. "No." A rueful beat. "I'm sorry for... making you worry," she finished with uncertainty, the memory still not vivid, yet putting together enough context and clue to come to that conclusion. Therrye had no desire to draw Aolieon into her business, let alone whatever was going on between her and Liliya. Now she felt like she owed the dancer a new debt, and a fresh layer of guilt settled in.
 
Therrye's words sounded feeble and without prose... and yet they quietly cut into her psyche deeply. The first "No," proverbially shattered glass, and her fumbling for further words just added to how wrapped those words were in darker, yet unrecognized meaning. What followed after the negatory word seemed to hint at something of erotic principle and standard, but it flew like trash in the wind in the face of Aolieon's original hypervigilant concern that the bruiser might have lost organs to the black market, or worse; been implanted with drugs (and summarily been teetering on the risk of critical overdose) -- the blush wasn't lost on her, however; merely cast aside like a magazine that just fell empty. Aolieon listened quietly, intently; almost frozen in place upon hearing that first no and how emphatic it sounded, as if it needed to be said long ago and in a different situation. Aolieon kept driving but somehow had found a stillness in the path, waiting with bated breath for what felt like a horrific realization that would bring with it a 20-car pile-up that no one could walk away from... Even when she thanked her for being here, Aolieon said nothing; as if words hung by a thread in the air, waiting for the first opportunity to fall and destroy everything in its path...

... and that realization came -- not with a bang, but a whimper in the form of the 2nd "No," from the bruiser. It seemed like Therrye hadnt yet realized what had occurred... however, in the dark mind of another, red flashes of others who once had been given such denials and took what they wanted flashed in her mind.

Aolieon's vinyl gloves tightened around the steering wheel with the sound of torqued synth-leather under white-knuckled grip. Aolieon's eyes stayed focused on the road, but the rest of the light faded from her eyes... there were no words. Just an icy, cold silence that just otherwise deafened the sounds in and outside of the car. Finding a moment to snap back to reality, Aolieon licked her lips regretfully, as if trying to find something to say, something to do... This isn't about me, she realized. Her jaw lightly dropped, lips parting as her throat went dry. This girl needs help, she needs... needs what? What was there to do? If her words carried with them what she thought they did... what was there to remedy, to fix? Is there anything that can be done; anything I can... Ice settled in the back of Aolieon's mind, bringing with it some form of resolve and composure. She knew not what to do, and the last thing that needed to happen was to leave her lying there with nothing, alone. Aolieon licked her lips, and a single intrusive thought crossed her mind -- spiriting her into action, and bringing with it an approach and demeanor that not even Aolieon realized was there...
... Guess...

Just like that, Aolieon's energy seemed to change. All of the anger, the sass, the intensity muted itself, replaced by something gentle and quiet. There was a calmness to this ocean and an emptiness that had only been glimpsed before... yet this emptiness did not seem aimed at deflection and detachment from all, and instead cued into Therrye, and Therrye alone. She looked over at Therrye and saw her face contorted in something between guilt, shame, uncertainty and even a touch of heat. To say that Aolieon's eyes weren't furrowed in an expression of grimace and squinted concern would be a lie for sure as well... "... Guess I'm batting two for two with you, now... *sigh* what am i gonna do with you, bruiser?" she muttered, offering her nonchalant gestures towards Therrye's gratitude offered and the apology which followed shortly -- although, self-effacing gestures as such were the least of Aolieon's desires, at this point.
Aolieon stopped the car, parking in the lot for Therrye's apartment complex. She leaned over and slowly reached a hand over to her face; fully letting the bruiser see it coming and lacking in any expression of hostility. She lightly pressed her palm to her forehead... then her cheek, and then the back of her hand to the other cheek. Her eyelids lowered and her eyebrows furrowed into a maternal smolder, feeling the heat in her cheeks. She slowly brought her hand to her own face "May I...?" she began, degloving her hand and placing her thumb inside her mouth, moistening it. Her smolder remained as she removed her thumb from her own mouth and started brushing it gently and progressing to a mold vigor, as she smeared off the lipstick print on her cheek with some mom makeup. "You got something on your face..." Aolieon muttered, brushing at it until it was gone and the eyesore was altogether unnoticeable. Then she sighed and simply stared at her for a minute of silence. Naturally when she pulled her hand away, Therrye might indeed have spotted that there was a light pink smudge on Aolieon's thumb now, which was summarily and unceremoniously wiped on the upholstery of her car.

Eventually, she huffed, popping open her car door with her leg and giving one last serious glance at Therrye. "Sit tight," she muttered, commanding the disheveled bruiser to not do anything stupid. A few moments later, after securing everything in her vehicle under lock and key, she opened Therrye's door. Very slowly and without pushing her too much, she grabbed Therrye's right arm and pulled it behind her own neck, using her posture to pull Therrye out of the car and using her free hand to bend her neck so as to not bump her head on the door frame. After a step or two she kicked the car door closed, and then proceeded to hobble Therrye over to the elevator. "Don't think about it too much, Therrye. Don't push your mind too hard, trying to find the answers to questions you might not yet be ready to handle." As they emerged from the elevator, she helped Therrye to her room and helped her stoop her head towards the camera. "Look up, baby; open it," she muttered, keeping her voice low and gentle as it had been since her change in energy. Once the door opened itself, Aolieon gently hobbled her inside and waited for it to close and secure itself behind them.

🎶 "Minuit" (Slowed+Reverb) 🎶

Not rushing or being pushy, Aolieon approached her plush bed and simply let Therrye slump off of her into flumping on the bed. "Rest," she muttered, her heels seeming to sound muffled and padded against the hard flooring. She went into the other room, and emerged with a bathrobe and one of her cans of H2O -- tossing them on the bed beside her. "Get comfortable, if you feel you must. If you're going to drink that, then sit up. I'm not going to push you to do something you don't want to, right now... but sleep it off. We'll talk in the morning," she muttered, still keeping her voice low and quiet but it was much louder in this apartment, now with the ambient sounds of the city cut out. Without another word, Aolieon appeared to disappear into the other room, allowing Therrye the privacy and dignity to do what she needed to do what she desired.

Throughout the rest period, Aolieon would do plenty of things -- snort a line of SynthCoke when she was sure Therrye was sound asleep; call Kara softly from the other room, relaying biomon information and formally requesting some Narcan in an airhypo for administration to Therrye. Aolieon quietly jacked into her biomon, checked her pulse and her breathing hourly; if she was swearing, she'd turn on the AC and remove blankets -- if she began sweating, much as it made her ache to want to climb into bed with her and use her own body heat to administer caring treatment; she'd simply throw blankets over her, wanting to refrain from touching Therrye as much as humanely possible.

Eventually, whenever Therrye had gotten enough rest, she'd wake up to the smell of cigarette smoke in her apartment. If and when Therrye got her bearings, she'd walk around to find Aolieon in her office; the window cracked open as she blew smoke put the window and ashed the cigarette outside, doing her best to let the AC filter the smell out. She'd look with that furrowed smolder from before, and she'd sigh at the sight of an ambulatory Therrye. "Hey, you're finally awake," -- the bags underneath Aolieon's eyes and the miserable state of her expression may have betrayed not only that she had not slept, but hadnt even bothered to nourish herself in any way, shape or form. Clad in her vantablack vinyl jumpsuit and looking armed to the teeth once more, it would seem that Aolieon had simply stood watch for the evening... and for once, had not left her side.

"So..." she began with a sigh, tossing her cigarette out the window and crossing her arms. She thought of immediately asking if she wanted to see Kara, but... something in her told her not to drag up the events of last night until she was ready to potentially wrestle with them -- something she partly wished she once had; in some ways, she was glad she had been brought to face the past before it was too late. But this wasnt about the dancer -- this was about what the bruiser potentially had to contend with now. Not wishing to press the most dire issue until ready, she began softly in a more open-ended gesture. "... what shall we talk about?"
 
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Even as struggling as she was to sweep up and sort out the broken pieces of thought, she could notice yet another intense shift in the dancer's emotional state. She winced a little at the tally mentioned and having gone up one. Fuck, she muttered silently, holding her face again, eyes shut. Becoming more entangled with Aolieon was the last thing she wanted to do, and her addled mind had messaged her because she had been the last person she'd messaged. That she might have actually even been worried about her too made it feel worse, even though that was plenty confusing, too. Therrye didn't feel like the Liandri saw her as a choom -- she suspected there might not be a single person she considered one after Kaede -- yet she'd shown up like one instead of just blocking her blank minded texts.

Feeling the motion cease, she looked out again and saw that they were in the Joege Block. With the adrenaline sinking out of her steadily, she was coming back down into the post-sick state of overdosing on a mostly unfamiliar drug. When Aolieon reached over, she reflexively drew back, but worked out the immediate response to sit there and glance at her hand while she felt at her. The bruiser nodded at the question, not certain what she was asking for until she stated why she was rubbing at her face. It seemed trivial in the moment, though she'd put it together when she saw the pink smudge.

She'd pulled her seatbelt free before getting the directive to stay put. Beyond all else, she felt drained and tired. Resting back against the seat wasn't so bad. Fortunately she didn't get much time to drift and to fall into worse places. At the help, she almost protested, yet let the words fall away with a sigh. Aolieon had helped her this far, in spite of everything, and it would have been rude to push her away for just trying to do what she could for her. Shifting her weight to not lean too heavily on her, she made the slowed walk over to the elevator and glanced over at her gentle words. Surprise lifted her brows a little at hearing her call her 'baby' again around her door, especially with such gentleness; some looks came in the plaza, but the wakefulness of both Therrye and Aolieon, and the slowness of the movements paused any outpour of questions or comments.

The bruiser dropped mildly onto the side of her bed. Her gaze followed the appearance of the new items, lingering there before returning to her once-again savior. After so much silence, she felt the need to voice gratitude, even though it was laden with guilt and uncertainty, "Thank you." Brows furrowed mildly at the realization of what she meant when she didn't leave her apartment after saying what she said. That felt worse, somehow. Why is she looking after me? She let herself fall back onto the bed, feet pushing off her shoes. Putting the blame more on the woman's past than anything to do with her specifically, she turned her head toward the pillows, focusing on nothing. There was plenty to consider and puzzle, but thinking was still a labor, and her body yearned for rest. Though it felt like more than she wanted to do, she unbuttoned and pulled off the neokitsch clothes that never felt like they fit her. Haphazardly, Therrye pulled the bathrobe on over her underwear, and nudged herself back along the bed until her head rested on the pillows.

It felt like she should be thinking about Liliya, and yet, it was difficult to think of anything other than Aolieon.

In the haze of listless rest, her eyelids occasionally opened to look at the samurai as she attended to and fussed over her, catching glimpses of the concern in her countenance. This was something she was altogether unused to. Even Kara, pleasant as she was, did not have such a doting bedside manner, and she'd never gone under full anesthesia to receive work from her, either. Therrye didn't know what to do with any of that.

When she finally awoke for real, she felt a little better, but the murk and fatigue largely remained. Spotting Aolieon still in her apartment, still dressed like a femme fatale ready to zero a lobby full of Corpos, she once again registered surprise. This did not feel like the woman she'd known thus far; once again, another slice of her had come into some focus, and the puzzle grew.

Seeing how worse for wear she was, though, only gave her another stab of guilt and concern. Her preference would have been to sleep another eight hours, really, but she had company now, and that company hadn't gotten any sleep because of her. Re-belting her bathrobe, she slid out of the covers, tested her legs on the floor, then got up and walked to the fridge. Withdrawing two cans of Nutriblast, she nudged the door closed and went to the dancer, offering one with a meaningful look. If she didn't accept it at first, she'd proffer it again with more insistence. "Drink," she'd say, firmly but not aggressively, and if she still resisted, she'd add a, "please."

Taking a seat at the small table that served for every purpose past the bed and desk, the bruiser stared at the morning light out the window. It felt both quite dull and too bright, somehow. Words bounced around, but most of them felt inert or worse. A yawn caught her by surprise, then, leading her to pop open the can in front of her and take a drink; she was glad she'd gotten some of the mixed berry-flavored variety and wasn't drinking lime right now. Eventually she glanced to Aolieon, then looked back toward her bed. "Why didn't you sleep?" she asked quietly, the notes of guilt clearly present, along with a faint urge to tuck the woman into bed herself. None of this felt comfortable -- it was so unfamiliar -- yet it didn't exactly feel uncomfortable, either. It was almost companionable, despite everything, including even her concern over the Liandri's health.

Therrye quietly exhaled. There was a lot to think about, and she didn't feel much motivation to get started.
 
Aolieon turned her head, lightly curling her lip as if giving mild consideration towards the "nutritious" beverage before humming a note of decline towards it. Wasn't her preferred flavor anyhow and wasn't tainted with booze. When Therrye insisted, she pursed her lips in a negative smirk, rolling her eyes and reluctantly plucking it from Therrye's hands. She cracked it open and took a sip, at first feeling lightly skeptical and surprised that it was actually quite flavorful and pleasant to drink. She took a second sip; swearing by her 'I'll try anything once; twice if it feels good' mantra, and hitherto resigned herself to drinking the consolation beverage mildly. Aolieon produced her pack of cigarettes and gestured to Therrye, quickly turning around any interpretations of the gesture with a, "You mind? I know I didn't ask before, but, well... its not like I had anything better to do," -- which in typical Aolieon fashion, spoke volumes by alluding to multiple facets by not saying much. She'd wait for the affirmation this time of course, trying to be mindful of the gal's own preferences for her own pad.

She'd pause when asked the question on her sleep -- of course by the time it came out she already had plenty of different answers, but she held back on this one for a breath before deploying it. Deciding it was a safe jump of allusion and triple entendre, Aolieon let out a low sultry chuckle beneath lowered mirthy eyelids before she replied. "Some girls have standards, you know!" -- this could have easily been interpreted as a jab towards Therrye's apparent taste in women, but it wasnt intended so; more rather that Aolieon was alluding to 1. Why she didnt simply jump into bed with the bruiser, 2. Trying to layer some perspective and try to quietly defend her past decisions, and 3. Quietly redirect any attention away from her current operating habits of sleepless nights, drug-laced gigs and rampant roller coaster of being a party animal. Thusly, those six words actually served an iconic "quadruple-entendre" -- unlike any that the world might have ever seen or heard. Of course, the many intricacies of the dancer's web was something they were also becoming familiar with, so there was a rather ambiguous branch of paths to how she could take that information -- however, what the dancer followed it up with would serve to bring her own elements back into the fray and bring an uncanny sense of comfort back into the swing of things and the many unspoken controversies that had recently been brought in between them; controversies which Aolieon certainly wanted answers to, but in the eight hours that had progressed silently, the dancer had been troubleshooting how she had wanted to approach this, and with her unwitnessed dance of intrusive and rampant thought processes in idle musing -- the bruiser would be unwittingly remiss in any possible discovery of how much tact she had dedicated to the pressing of such matters. Once more, the words of Kaede Withridge found themselves strafing across Aolieon's mindset...
Start treating her like an Edgerunner worth her own salt -- not a joytoy, Li-Li...

... this wouldn't stop the dancer from going about things her own way -- though the time between her last statement and this next one had barely even numbered in the seconds; Aolieon wouldn't leave much time to dwell on the potentially negative aspects of her intricate allusion.
"Its just like our first night together," she began, posturing either her gifted drink or cigarette elegantly, with eyebrows raised in a catty and derisive posture to prelude her words. "You found yourself in a spot of trouble and I found myself able to intervene. And one thing led to another, and another, and..." she trailed off with a sultry smirk and a low chuckle, placing one of her heels on the wall behind her to leverage some weight and she either took a sip or another puff of her cigarette, emanating a more confident exhale into the ether of the room. "Doesn't matter what I get myself into; I'm a sucker, sometimes. Once I'm committed to a bit -- it's hard to reason myself out of an investment too early..." she shrugged, indulging in her current pastime once more all the same. "You on the other hand... well, I won't sugar-coat this, darling -- you stink." she raised an eyebrow and simply let her gaze drift off nonchalantly -- Therrye didn't actually stink; Aolieon loved her natural smell, for reasons even she did not understand... nevertheless, it was a good way to quietly broach the topic of the pink lipstick loving assailant Therrye had encountered, and on her own terms at that. "I'd offer you a ride to Kara's; perhaps for some needed medical attention, but... before you start getting into the thick of details, it might be a good idea to integrate some self-care, neh?" she let off a warm smile, placing her pack of cigarettes on the windowsill, announcing intentions whether or not Therrye acknowledged her own previously. She then turned her head to look dead-on at the bruiser, her nonchalance and coolness ever present in this situation.
"Don't worry; I've babysat you long enough that I'm not going to invade your privacy in the middle of the act... not unless you ask," her tongue slipped out between her teeth as she let out that last bit of dialogue, biting her lip to alert her that it wasn't exactly an off-the-table concept... but in truth, what Therrye had to contend with mentally and emotionally was a lot -- and Aolieon would actually keep her distance if the bruiser so chose. Still... much as an enigma the dancer's desires might be; sometimes they came into clear focus. Why wouldn't they? Anyone would be a fool to think that one such as Aolieon would be even a tad negligent of the things she wants...
 
The bruiser gestured mildly with assent toward Aolieon smoking. She did mind, but after all she'd done for her, she wasn't going to care about such small niceties. An occasional breach of that wasn't going to suddenly turn her apartment into an ashtray. More poignantly was the words that accompanied the request, and the deepening of her sense of guilt and obligation. Of course, she hadn't asked to her stay and she didn't have to, but Therrye well knew what sorts of obligations appeared when empathy was in charge.

A gentle sigh replied to her quad entendre. This, at least, was the dancer she knew. Some thought would have to go into how she'd best approach that tack to actually make her respond in any way that wasn't dismissive. Noted, she added silently, tiredly. At how she went on from there, Therrye shook her head. Part of it was accurate, clearly, but the rest? Nothing like their first night together. "'committed to a bit,'" she echoed in a distant manner, almost seeming like she wasn't paying attention. It reminded her entirely too much of why she'd bled so hard in the first place, and the ribbons tore fresh tribute from her heart. What it did moreso was help her start reasserting those walls she'd been trying to build between them, and a lot of the life in her eyes was already gone by the time she returned her gaze to Aolieon.

"I'm sure I do," she replied to the comment on her scent, even if she found it difficult to believe the dancer could smell anything with that habit of hers. "I have a ride," followed the calm statement, as her visual feed drew her focus and she used eye gestures to activate her bike's auto-drive to get it to return to the Joege Block. A note of gratitude held for it being early enough that it wasn't towed. Pushed her feed back to the edges of her vision, she returned her attention to the Liandri. "I owe you, again," a glint of bitterness surfacing this time, though it wasn't directed at her, noticeable by how she glanced away from Aolieon when she said the emphasized word, "and I'm sorry for dragging you into pulling me off the street." Her lips pursed firmly before releasing their tension and another vocal exhale. "Thank you, for that. Thank you for looking out for me when you didn't have to." She spelled it out mostly to remind herself that this was not typical behavior, that there should be no expectations around this, and that this had been a burden for the woman.

Gratitude dispensed, Therrye was left looking mostly just tired and unhappy, even with her internal distance displacing some of the emotion from the surface. The samurai was making her feel things again, and she didn't have the benefit of preparation or respectful distance this time to help prevent that. Thoughts continued spilling through her askance gaze for a few long beats while she otherwise remained unmoving beyond the quiet tempo of her lungs. "I'm probably fine," she eventually said in an effort to reassure. Given that she'd stuck around all night and hadn't slept, though, she suspected that wouldn't be enough to soothe the woman's concern, "but I'll visit Kara." Lapsing back into quiet, she then leaned back a little, staring at the ceiling for a little bit; it was a much safer sight above the table.

"I can shower later," she shrugged mildly. Making jokes and throwing banter was so much easier when it didn't feel like her chest was thrilling just to see the person across from her. "There's probably some perfume in the morning drawer I can drown out the stink with," she said unenthusiastically, but with slightly more life than had been in her words since she fell more distant.
 
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Aolieon may have seemed all too enthralled in the temptation to toot her own horn at that moment. Fact of the matter was that Aolieon was keyed into the situation quite sensitively, and the snarky ego was helping her to keep her distance from a deep end that beckoned her to fall older bloodstained habits and traumatic responses -- the dancer wasn't laying it on thick because she didn't care, or wished to gloat over the bruiser... she was quietly fighting the same war within herself that she had resigned herself to quietly fighting over the past 12 hours. It was bad enough that the subtle revelations of the bruiser's past were enough for Aolieon to get her hands dirty slitting the throats of those who had failed to learn any lessons pertaining to the denial of human rights to those who could easily be determined as 'not human'...
What appeared to have happened to the bruiser last night should have come to the surprise of no one -- but it was in fact a rusty nail driven deep into the dormant concepts of Aolieon's morality; one that proved some lessons weren't learned, and that some things had not changed, in spite of an entire generation of history giving more than they had the right to give, just to change it for the better. Once upon a time, this city was occupied by a military force with enough threat to its credibility that such degenerates thought twice about committing such inhumanities to others. A detente between street gangs was held steadfast by this lynch-pin of militant might, the forces of which combined with the Afterlife to make the dystopian grip of capitalism and political intrigue seem loose enough on Night City that things may actually have been changing for the better... the events of the last 10 days had proven themselves a stark revelation that in spite of tens of thousands all swirling together to become a full storm of change -- nothing had changed but the facade... and none could possibly, truly fathom the violent anger, resentment, hatred and bitterness at such a revelation within one former Fallen soldier who had fought harder than most against such tribulations -- all invoked within by the meager suffering of one individual.

... but the war within such a tormented soul was fought on two fronts -- one of which was to remain mindful of someone for whom still there was reasonable doubt that she hadn't just been through something that echoed the calamities of earlier, darker and more oily depravity that she had witnessed before... and somehow, she had done well in concealing that.
Aolieon watched Therrye carefully, denoting every change in mood the bruiser had went through; from feeling guilt and shame, to tired reluctance to a certain coolness that she might offer. Aolieon's words drifted with pregnant pauses in between, watching to gage her reactions, and slowly Aolieon found herself simply watching another reality sink in. There wasn't any warmth or heat to her -- in fact, there hadn't been since that first night, and that fact was beginning to tug at her something fierce. The possibility that she had actually moved on and was averse to the prospect of giving her any of that warmth anymore gave Aolieon an undesirable chill. Aolieon clicked her tongue, letting a mild sign of protest slip between her teeth. She wanted that back; the eloquent, gentle-handed and warm Femme she had first met... She felt a pang of regret, feeling as if the shunning of the bruiser was so little to warrant such an absence of warmth; whats more is that all the notes of the care she had applied to her had gone thanked, but largely unrequited. She wouldn't know what to do, if what had recently transpired was enough to completely dim the fires within her... her heart ached; the grip around it tightening in her chest as she fought back the urge to squirm. Then a thought came to make a suggestion.
Perhaps giving a bit of warmth in return will kindle hers...

Aolieon sat down slowly at the table Therrye had sat at, listening to her coldly rationalize her independence over having a ride and dispensing gratitude once more. She finished up her Nutriblast, taking a puff of her empty cigarette and ashing it in the empty can. She then gazed upon the distant and aloof bruiser and waited only a beat to reply to Therrye's words of gratitude. "Well, you'd do the same for me, wouldn't you?" taking another puff and exhaling it to the side, she carried her cool with her as she thought of how to approach this carefully. "... said so yourself, if I recall." Aolieon flipped the pop-ring of the Nutriblast can upwards and carefully slid her cigarette through the ring, angling it so the ash would naturally fall into the opening. Her gaze drifted downwards as her hand slowly slid forwards to gently greet that hand she once offered on that first night, gently pulling it to turn the palm upwards and press her other free hand into it. Aolieon tilted her head, letting gravity pull the aluminum curtain gently to the side, as she squinted her eyes directly up into Therrye's and spoke once more. "... what was it you said? 'How could I hope for a comrade to protect my life, if I won't risk mine to protect theirs'??" she couldnt help but gently reminisce on how well everything felt; how free they were with sharing one another; her gaze drifting down to their hands as they caressed. She paused for a second, allowing the memories to sink in about how freely she had been touched; been embraced and how genuine it felt -- now she was present in this moment, trying to give some of that back and quietly hoping that it wasn't tainted in the process by what had happened to her. She then let a warm smile drift across her face as she met eyes with the bruiser.
"If you want that to become the rule... then you shouldn't be thanking me... now should you?" Aolieon sighed lightly with the words, resisting the urge to lick her lips as she stared into the bruiser's eyes -- a warm dilation appearing, as something beneath failed to resist the aching urge to reach out; searching for what was wrong and beckoning that sensation so sweetly to come back to her...

Eventually, Aolieon found the strength to put Therrye's hand down and let it recede from her. She looked away for a second, feeling jilted at this aching urge she was fighting back -- but something so much more important needed to be addressed and worked upon before she could rightfully even try to think about her own wants, and it was becoming difficult. "If you don't want to be seen by Doc; that's fine, but maybe I wasn't too clear, honey..." she turned her head to take on a semi-serious smolder which had a touch of warmth and a note of concern to it. "You need to shower -- I'll respect your space; promise. But that needs to happen. Sweet as you may smell, otherwise..." she couldn't resist the temptation to smile sultrily, hearing the life return to her voice. She sighed heavily though, as if acknowledging a weight in the room which had been patiently biding it's time in anticipation of crushing the mood beneath itself. Aolieon looked out the window, trying not to let her overthinking pour over the matrix of possibilities when the ramifications of the last night would finally come into full awareness. "I'll stay right here... go get yourself cleaned up. Got some more stuff to ask you about, but... it can wait."
 
Therrye, at this point, anticipated some derisive banter, some gnawed concern, and some suggestive flirts until she satisfied enough of the right points of the dancer's attention -- while also giving enough of a wall that she'd take the hint and leave her to herself to where she could wallow and rest and try to move on again. Instead, she found her old words to Aolieon, ones she never expected would matter to her, getting spoken back. She didn't think the woman cared about any of that. And yet, she had freed those fighters without recompense. Had saved her life, had picked her up drugged off the street, had stayed awake all night while she rested. There were so many contradictions in her. Maybe she was wrong about her. "Of course," she murmured without consideration. Disagreements could have followed, but they would have been hollow at best.

Her gaze shifted to the woman's hands, finding that slender, partially calloused warmth in hers once more. A brief twitch of her fingers followed as nerves sparked silently beneath the surface. Why does she keep pushing and pulling back and forth? It didn't feel accurate, or at least not the whole of the story, but part of her minded that she had been doing the same. Offering so much and drawing away, returning presence and then taking off.

Sharing a look with her once more, she found that interest again in the dancer's eyes and desires leapt toward the surface, wanting to be free to pursue once more. The ache was far from one-sided.

She chuffed quietly. "I didn't think you went in on such sentimentality... but here you are, and there you've been." A half-smile had risen in her, despite her heaviness. "Am I rubbing off on you, dancer? Or have you always had a bit of that in you?" There was no hostility in her questions -- teases, really. They'd actually brought some of her to the front without it all feeling so fraught.

When Aolieon's hand withdrew, her own did not retreat, and she missed it as well. Perhaps especially, currently, though admitting that would have been rather hard. At her insistence, she nodded a bit, seeming preoccupied. Then she refocused and gave a quiet chuff at the flirt. It didn't seem like she'd say such things just to make her feel flattered; her praise was sparing, if anything. "Alright, alright. I'll take a shower." An appraising glance, and a note of concern at how worn down she looked. "And I'll chat after. Really, though, you look like you need rest more than I do." She gestured to her bed. "You're welcome to catch some while I... clean up," she said, not sure what all awaited her in the act.

With a not unfriendly smile, she added as she walked to her bathroom, "You already know how cozy it is."
 
... turns out Aolieon's hypothesis carried some weight to it, and the bruiser did in fact brighten up when she came at her from face-value. The many emotions quietly seething beneath the surface began to subside reverently at the acceptance of touch from Therrye, at which Aolieon couldn't help but quietly savor. Manufactured as these hands of hers were, there was so many quiet volumes that could be spoken for what lied beneath, and what these hands promised; of what had never been requited, what is and what could be... RealSkinn, subdermal plates and reinforced tissue; all there was, and yet enough superficially to make these hands 'unreal'; granted, not as far removed from 'ganic hands as they might have been for any who chose full-kit gorilla arms or higher-end mantis blades -- there were no ballistic coprocessors here; no smart-links or other attachments -- just enough 'ware to allow someone to function in either a higher-strength Edgerunner's capacity or a meager bloody fight pit. And yet these were the most genuine hands that Aolieon ever had the pleasure of witnessing; in the barest of essentials, they were of both worlds; barely 'ganic and barely chromed... Aolieon knew little of just how this relationship between 'ware and the self intertwined itself; she could only feel the lack of suppleness, the 'wooden' feeling granted by the subdermal plating and the unique subtextures hardly discernible by normal human hands which made her aware it was RealSkinn. The entire ensemble brought a soft comfort to Aolieon -- a quiet, almost unnoticeable refutation of certain ideas that she had never been taught but alas had remained plenty visible in the tides of life, and unable to be disproven as of yet.

A brief kindling of joy swept across Aolieon's face, hearing the tone of Therrye's voice change and become more alive, with teasing and warmth returning all the same. For a second, she felt like she had done good and were worthy of praise. Hearing the two questions posed by the bruiser gave her pause however, and she tilted her head aside for a breath, mentally musing on how she should take that. It wasn't that the teases had at all slighted her, nor that the questions were overstepping in nature -- merely that there was a threshold containing a whole world of introspective that Aolieon had been avoiding for quite some time, which hid beneath a rather large carpet of void. Something neglected and avoided altogether when it comes to self-development. And while she had not quite trusted the bruiser enough to really pick that hand of cards off the table and start putting them into play -- she had at least proven herself worthy of a single speck of truth.
"Heh... not really," she began, in reference to her 'rubbing off on' the dancer. She plucked the cigarette from its improvised holster and took another staccato of false puffs, rekindling its nearly dead embers back into a smoldering cherry before taking a drag off of it -- the simplistic and lazy display generated a mild cloud of smoke about the dancer, but didn't quite threaten to permanently permeate this room. She tilted her head to look pensively at the bruiser, a light smile gracing her lips as she exhaled the deep puff of cigarette smoke out her nostrils, generating a funnel not unlike someone might imagine to come out of an idling dragon. "You remind me of someone... you share some of his world views; 'naivety', some might say, even..." her gaze trailed off, smile not fading but the weight of the thoughts was there, for sure. She took another drag, and squinted her eyes in a sort of half-wink at Therrye. "... course, he had the strength and skill to back up his beliefs. You talk the talk for sure, bruiser; don't take this the wrong way, but..." Aolieon sighed, tilting her head again but sending another meaningful glance at Therrye with her allusions. "Let's just say you've got a ways to go before you can walk the walk."
Aolieon lowered her gaze, averting it as if she had detected how slighting that may be for her, and how many questions that might generate. She moved quickly to deflect, but maintained some honesty in her sultry gaze. "That doesn't stop you from being interesting though... now does it?" Another smile, then a plunking of the near-finished cigarette into the can.

Finally hearing the bruiser capitulate to her desire for her to take a shower, another warm smile fell across Aolieon's face -- the squinting in her eyes revealed a minor pain at realizing once more that a certain weight hung in the air, unaddressed. Her heart tugged at her, begging her to do something; as if this may be the last moment where the bruiser's own inhibitions might not become corrupted by malicious traumatic code yet to be realized... but once again, there were so many pitfalls of thinking Aolieon was trying to avoid. The one that was most difficult to avoid was applying her own understanding of herself to the bruiser -- which was not an ideal strategem, nor was it possibly going to go the way she thought it was going to go. Fake-smiling a bit bigger, Aolieon's eyelids lowered, considering the prospect of comfort in the home of another. "... I'll think about it," she volunteered as an answer -- however, Aolieon was still hesitant on whether or not she wanted to let the bruiser alone after all of this.

She clicked her tongue sardonically at the comment of how comfortable Therrye's bed was; certainly was a tempting offer... but still that weight hung in the air, carrying with it a fearful spike of anticipation ready to be plunged into anyone's chest. She sat there for a spell, thinking on what to do, and then finally decided to get up from the table, wafting her hands in the air in a feeble attempt to clear her own hotbox. She made a mental note to offer some housekeeping services that might rectify such a smell if it bothered her so much. Walking out of this little office room and off to her bedroom, the Liandri unzipped her jumpsuit, letting it clatter to the floor along with all of her weapons and gear in front of her bed -- thereby stripping down to her skivvies and flumping on the plush bed.
She lightly moaned in comfort at the feeling of its sensations; she could not deny how much of a pull this bed had on her... But she rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling, restless thoughts welling up within her. She didn't want to leave the bruiser to just crash through these potentially erratic thoughts on her own; not like she had to... She also didn't want to contend with her own wrathful and murderous thoughts that were being secretly projected onto humanity and its lack of capacity to change its ways for the better... There was something dark and ominous stirring within the dancer that had its crosshairs slowly settling in on the alien trafficking businesses once more, however there were so many more spheres of influence such depravity overspilled into; so many terrible things to be said, and even justices twice as terrible that could be visited upon them. Whether or not she cared about the whole ordeal and vengeance streaks therein -- she was starting to, and that was bad news for everyone. What's more, is the aspect of Aolieon that was slowly calling her to arms, was something she did not want the bruiser to see in its blood-cleaving glory....
 
Once more, there were those faint sparks of nerve activity, deep beneath the surface. Faint, still, ever so faint, yet slightly more noticeable than last time. Briefly, she stared at her hand with curiosity at whatever seemed amiss. She was so close to scratching down the first gouges of lines between events that would shape into a pattern; still just close, though, and not quite there.

A mild smirk was her reply to her assessment of the bruiser. "I wouldn't be so gonk as to compare myself to someone like Matsuo," she said dryly. Glancing toward the window, a flicker of something much darker came into her gaze, but it was gone by the time she was moving toward the bathroom.

Closing the door to the bathroom behind her -- the only actual door in the entire apartment outside of the front one -- she gave herself privacy for returning some attention to what Liliya had left behind. Leaning against the counter and facing the mirror, her gaze unfocused as fingers stretched out more carefully for memory. Some of bits of framing had appeared with more clarity, the joytoy getting held taking Therrye out of the dining room and into a private room in The Windsor. Most of it remained gone, though, and she suspected there was no mist or fog to even parse through. A lifetime ago, she'd suffered something similar in a cage before she was older, before Duke's protocols, before they knew better than to put any of their digits anywhere near her mouth. That had lasted far longer (not that she had much of a sense of time back then), and they'd joked that she'd nearly choked to death on vomit.

Liliya was not a slaver, though. She'd undoubtedly changed since she'd last held familiarity with her, yet would her nature be that much different by now?

Finally shedding the bathrobe, Therrye took in the sight of the lipstick marks left on her. A little smeared by a night of sleep's stirrings, bust mostly still intact. Staring at the one over her breast, she lifted her bra; no marks lay beneath it, leading to a faint nod. Turning in front of her mirrors, she shifted her gaze to the ones capturing her back. Something she knew from the years before made her pull down underwear, but no marks lay there, either. No signs of incisions or bruises or needles caught her attention. The water, she noted, though it'd been sort of a foregone conclusion. Turning back to looking down her front, she slowly peeled off her underwear, preparing herself for any other surprises.

Finding none, she exhaled out some tension, even though more questions just lurked behind the lack of evidence. Giving herself another once over, hands moving over her torso to feel for any unfamiliar wounds or subtler signs of invasion on the surface of her skin, she started the shower soon after. Leaning into the wall while she waited for the water to heat up, her fingers thrummed through air while curiosity churned. What do you want, Lily? Thinking back through their conversation, it could have been easy to settle that this was simply revenge, the delayed response for once she'd extended a little more trust to make her pay for ghosting her. The next easiest thing to select was this was a test of loyalty; if the bruiser returned to her after being bitten, then Liliya might believe she was worth some of her interest and own vulnerability.

Both of these seemed plausible, and might be plenty true, yet there were other ways to accomplish them. This gave her access to her without oversight for two or so hours, in ways she wouldn't have if the bruiser was simply sleeping. Stepping under the water, she just felt the water in its near-gentle flow of warmth wrapping around her body for several minutes. Closing her eyes, thoughts drifted away, nothing existing but familiar sensations and a vague sense of sluggishness.

Sooner or later, she'll reveal what she did, because she couldn't pass up the opportunity to gloat. Therre's eyelids retreated again, revealing the upper parts and ceiling of her shower. Her subconscious seemed pretty certain in that, and she'd had enough time freed from the worst effects of the drug since Aolieon intervened to trust in her senses again. She'd prefer getting some clues before then, yet that could be some closure, at least, if she didn't.

Eventually getting into the act of cleaning herself, she enjoyed some respite before she noticed something off behind her left ear. Fingertips probed several times before realizing what it made her think of -- the circles of RealSkinn in her arm, beneath which lay the attachment points bolted to bone for her breakers. Her expression flattened as she found a clue after all.

Poking at it wasn't going to get her anywhere, though, and whatever it covered was deep enough that she couldn't feel a raised spot. Knowing how cruel the Human could be, she decided that she'd definitely visit Kara later after all. There would be no knowing what was inside of her otherwise.

The rest of her shower came and went with an occasional check at the dot of foreign RealSkinn until reflexive curiosity had been sated enough to let it drop. No new information about it would be forthcoming for some time.

Trading knowledge for one set of marks for another and losing in the bargain, she felt the wafting curls of defiant anger as she dried herself off. Soon, then, she reassured herself, cycling her breath with intention to regulate the feelings. She'd spent enough time erecting defenses and becoming the point of calm in the storm; the only one in recent memory to move slide right past them and under her skin was Aolieon, and despite the very literal presence of something there now, Therrye wouldn't give the joytoy the satisfaction of having that level of influence on her.

Pulling on the bathrobe she hadn't slept in, she tied it and left the bathroom. It didn't take effort to spot the dancer in her bed, and she smiled slightly; she hadn't expected her to listen to the suggestion in any fashion. Therrye took a seat on her bed, not invasively close to the woman, but well within reach. "So... I promised you I'd talk." She seemed sharper than before. Not hostile or distant, but closer to the readiness she'd have right before a job in preparing to mount anger and flow into the frenzy of violent life and kinetic death. "What did you want to ask me about?"
 
Aolieon smiled warmly at her, a glint of genuine compassion shining through before she walked off -- the smile melted very shortly thereafter. Of course, Aolieon wasn't referring to Matsuo. Matsuo didn't have the Will of Fire; he may have possessed the patience and inner flow to teach any and all the spirit of martial arts... but he did not care openly for others so freely; nor did he possess the strength of character to stare death in the face, just to spite the world in favor of what he believed existed in others...
... Yeah, well I feel really stupid when i see him in you.

When the bruiser came out of the shower, Aolieon had sort've half drifted to sleep -- looking upon Therrye, it took her a moment to notice how she didn't react significantly to seeing Aolieon in naught but her lingerie, simply laying there without covers. Matter of fact, it seemed that Therrye had been unfazed by it. Aolieon smiled sultrily, feeling as if she had this situation on the ropes, but still chose to sit carefully upon the fence between care and passion -- it wasn't like she knew much in the spirit of what she had been trying to do, beyond rendering first aid. She ran her fingers through her hair, quietly tossing and turning on the spot as she summoned her mental faculties. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at you used to the sight of pretty women in your bed..." she seemed to tease lightly, her voice airy and lackadaisical as she did so. She pulled her movements into a stretch and a yawn, revealing how tempting the bed was at drawing her into its plushy, velveteen embrace. She slowly blinked her eyes, seeing how serious the bruiser was; she managed a light smile with some mirth to it. Her smile faded the moment she started speaking again. "So -- after all of that; you gonna tell me anything about what happened, rimbo?" she aimed her gaze directly into her eyes, a touch of sadness and aversion in her expression. "Or am I to assume, in not being all too familiar with you, that you just 'partied too hard'?" Aolieon curled her lip into a bit of a complacent smirk -- she didnt exactly feel that the bruiser was the kind of person who went for that sort of revelry; however, seeing her act so casually about all of this with only a tinge of anger in addition to all the other ambient context gave reason for the dancer to believe that this wasn't at all the worst case scenario she had thought it to be, and rather a commonplace occurrence. Nothing about it matched up, but it gave the stench of sketchy dealings, and Aolieon would be remiss if she said she didn't care about the possibility of malicious mishandling of the bruiser in a lapse of weakness. Still, noted concern was beginning to become fleeting, and still she chose to push the elephant out of the room -- already in her bed once more, she was close to overstepping as it was, and it caused a ripple of uncomfortable emotions that she really had wished weren't there, but in part were circumstances which she only had herself to blame for bringing to reality. "Still dont think that Kara isnt worth a check-up, at least??"
 
Therrye had kept a careful balance of shifted gaze so that Aolieon existed more in her periphery; it made it far easier to not have her eyes dilating with intense interest that way. There were several ways of responding to the dancer's flirt that came to mind, but she ended up going with one more earnest, despite the exhale it drew out of her. "You were the last pretty woman in my bed, dancer." A small chuff came after, then she rounded it out with more, despite her emotional distraction. "Hard act to follow. Hardly seems fair." While it was meant to be a complimentary jest, it ended up bearing a note of sadness she wasn't prepared to give voice to, and especially not with the Liandri.

Drawing fingers through her hair with a clearing of her throat, she nodded softly. "No, I wasn't partying too hard. It was done intentionally." She did not add the 'to me' part of that sentence, though it was plenty clear; she quietly exhaled. "I was on a date with a... more 'adventurous' sort of former." Therrye let her gaze meet Aolieon's, then, having avoided it long enough. Still, she tried not to focus on her state of undress. "I can't tell yet how maliciously it was meant. But I will go see Kara," she reassured her, not looking forward to it but knowing all the same that she should.

Having her there again, in front of her, in bed, and nearly naked, was an awful lot to bear in the moment. From her caring rescue to becoming aware of an unknown threat inside her body, all in the aftermath of a memory-obliterating drug, left her somewhat reeling. Even though the bruiser wasn't at all good at lying, keeping calm through the storm was something she had honed. That didn't make it easy, though, and surprisingly enough, Aolieon was the most volatile emotional element in the mix, leaving her torn between uncertainty, stress, yearning and heartache.
 
Aolieon remained relaxed upon her bed, simply watching and listening to the bruiser intently while she let energies flow naturally through the room. When Therrye spoke about Aolieon being the last one in her bed, her heart couldn't help but flutter for a moment at that simple reveal. She turned her head away, gaze appearing to admire the very comfy pillows as she bit her lip hard and blushed. Often had she received such praise before, but this time; much as it had been expressed before, this felt like the reprise and validation of all her previous efforts -- on top of that, it let her know that the bruiser wasnt in a hurry, and might very well still bear some attraction. She took a breath, exhaling it through pursed lips quietly at the words, quickly trying to muffle her own desires and feelings, before she tried to think on what to say next. While normally averse to the idea of not letting her words fall brazenly from her lips, she still felt the need to exercise some tact here...

"Ahh, well... likewise, bruiser," she started, rolling over onto her side and draping her arm upwards of the bed, curling her leg slightly upwards -- quietly inhaling deeply and appreciating how good it smelled in here. "I can definitely attest how much I missed this..." she smoothed her hand down the covers, grabbing a tuft of throw and pulling it to her chest, making it clear that for once, she actually meant the experience of Therrye's bed. "I've been in some preem penthouses with some definitely luxurious experiences, but this... ohh, this is outrageously cozy," she continued, wiggling much like a dog just wallowing all over the covers, reveling in the sensations of how it touched her. She smiled at the bruiser, wanting to beckon her forwards, but letting her remain the master of her own domain. "Probably never gets old, does it?" she added, tilting her head as she teased and running her fingers through what was now a disheveled fan of aluminum hair.

Aolieon's expression shrank almost immediately as she began to speak of her previous night. "Mm," she added to the end of her introspective on her mystery gal being 'adventurous', puckering her lips in a sort of complacent off-putting look. Aolieon might not have had much room to talk, but this was different. Her eyebrows raised and she blinked, a bit baffled at what came next. "You 'can't tell'?" her lips remained parted in astonishment. She propped herself up on her elbows to look more seriously at Therrye, then gestured with one hand to the open air, as if what she had said was a refutation of the obvious. "Seems to me like it should be pretty simple. Like, do you know this choom or not?" she scoffed again, her concerns kicked back up into the whirlwind. She eventually sighed, resigning herself to the fact that regardless of how potentially dire these dubious circumstances were; the bruiser was clearly erring on the side of discretion, as if this was some sort of misunderstanding. The bruiser's flippant nature about it all was what baffled Aolieon the most; while many people in Night City were superficial with how they treated their bodies, many also tended to be acutely sensitive about when things were done to it without their permission -- a fact Aolieon sometimes brazenly disregarded simply because it added discord and unpredictability to some of her escapades. Regardless, nothing between 'choom' and 'weird joytoy' matched cohesively when it came to the clues that Therrye had left when it came to this queer queen that had left love stamps all over her... Aolieon bit her lip, eyes narrowing as she looked off into the distance. Now she wanted to know what was so worth the risk; why all of the sudden Therrye had decided to date someone like this. Aolieon could play extreme like that -- Aolieon could dance to any such dangerous desires she wanted to... It was a spicy thought that drew nails down her back and chewed at her lip with such shameless tension that it threatened to draw a rise out of Aolieon...

... a small thought shoved against her jealousy, slapping her in the face and stopping her mind in its tracks.
... so why didn't she come to me...?

Aolieon's expression became ever so tainted with sadness; jilted by this realization that the complex weave of feelings and motives ran deeper than she thought. Aolieon had actually tried, pretty valiantly when she went to seduce the bruiser -- the fact that this had been the first time that she had been in fact hunted; called back, wondered about but not indulged in for a second reprieve, even as she lay completely vulnerable upon her bedside once more where it would have been all too easy... just drove the nail deeper instead of triggering her haughty sensibilities and confidences, for some reason. Not wanting Therrye to see that this had unwittingly stricken a mild blow to her own conscience, Aolieon rolled over to her other side, eyebrows furrowing as she mildly pouted. She was in a perfect position to pounce; to spring upon the bruiser and remind her how nova she was when she wanted something... but something halted her from doing that. The feelings had interrupted her momentum and caused her to lose grip on the potential of the situation. Thoughts ran back to what she said at the concert hall; how she had done so much upon encountering her at the Dojo and still chose not to take her in -- how it had taken her own warpath of derivative thoughts to go beyond the call of duty and care for the bruiser, just to be laying in this bed again... it all felt like one big consolation prize now, left out of obligation to the fact that she had even bothered to try... Leave it alone; if she chose to not come to you even though you were the last lover here, then Kaede was right -- you ruined it. Aolieon shut her eyes, sighing lightly but containing her emotions on the matter. Still, Aolieon had questions and she had decided to try and continue -- maybe there's something worth salvaging; still a chance... she thought to herself. She bit her lip and shut her eyes, thinking hard, quickly trying to recollect her thoughts and try to change the subject. It was for the best, at least when it came to letting the air of the room dwell on what had driven them apart... if she wanted to turn this around, then she needed to not let this sink in...

"So, this gig," she began, trying to roll back over and roll her eyes, pulling her mind off of the present and trying to remember all the detes. "Seems like a pretty preem job; feels like youve thought this through quite well, i might add..." -- this was pretty high praise from Aolieon, all things considered. She looked back at Therrye. "But why cut me in?" Aolieon bit her lip, scowling as she realized that her own mental momentum had managed to steer back into the direction of her unknown value towards the bruiser. Pursing her lips and swallowing a lump in her throat, she tried to dig her way out of this hole. "I mean, it seems to me like a good opportunity for a one-woman show -- at least for me, I mean. Youve proven you can handle some hefty defenses before; with a bit of extra gear, you could probably brute-force the whole thing," Aolieon breathed at the end, almost sighing in the passable redirection back to more pragmatic matters. She looked back up to the ceiling, wriggling and rolling her eyes as she huffed lightly. "I don't know; like dont take this the wrong way -- I'm happy to work with you again. Truly. I just... I'm curious as to why; after all, you're a capable 'runner... you seem worth your salt." she swallowed, going more direct with someone's suggestion -- not that it wasn't something she didn't believe on her own; despite having only worked once, it seemed they were past that point... "So, what's the sitch, bruiser? I'm not saying no, I'm just curious."
 
There was an edge of sadness to her soft smile, only half-watching Aolieon luxuriate in her bed. Those ribbons danced and cut with each movement, and her expressions of simple pleasure at the experience of it reminded her entirely too much of Mirri, who had been the one to give her the advice in the first place. 'Get a bed worth lingering in and some dolls will want to stay and come back just for the sheets alone. Add a heart and body like yours, and you'll struggle to keep some of them away.' She was close enough now that she wouldn't have to extend her body at all to touch her soft skin once more, and the thought alone wanted to make her cheeks burn.

It remained just a soft blush, though. If anything, the reminder of Mirri gave her pause, as she felt so close to falling into the same sort of gaping darkness she'd found in the woman's wake. "No," came the quiet answer, "it really doesn't."

Moving the conversation on didn't exactly make things easier, especially to be talking about this with who she yearned for most. Often, lovers found it galling to know effort and time had been invested into another over them. That alone made it feel rude, and when combined with the fact that she'd been salved and rescued by the dancer made it sting that much harder. Even though she was the one who turned the bruiser down, it didn't feel fair to her. She needed to remind herself of how her feelings were turned down in the first place; everything that followed had been Aolieon wanting an easy conquest of her 'better' nature, a second round of anything she might give, and then another morning left alone in the deafening silence of someone she couldn't get out of her heart.

And yet, if that was the case, why did she keep showing ways subtle and not that she cared? The contradiction intrigued as much as the push and pull of it hurt.

Exhaling again, Therrye wore a frown as she shrugged. Her answer was hardly satisfying and she knew it; the invasive presence inside her skull and/or neck could have been as trivial as a party favor and as dramatic as a kill switch for all she knew of the Liliya of today. The Liliya of yesteryear wouldn't have done such, far as she could reckon, but then she hadn't ghosted her yet and left whatever wound that spelled for the joytoy. "I used to know her well. A lot can change in two years; feels silly to say that, now." Tightening her jaw, her eyes narrowed with thought. "I probably won't have an inkling of how bad it is until I hear from her, but maybe I'll figure it out with Kara's help." Releasing her tension, she shifted her arms on the bed, leaning backward. Knowing what sight awaited her if she looked to the ceiling, she avoided that, gaze instead fixing unfocusedly on the portion of wall above her headboard, and the carved art there. She shook her head a bit. Who was to blame but herself for sticking her hand into the mouth of a snake?

Remembering how uncomplicatedly pleasant it felt being around Liliya again, and how easy it was to suspend those darker memories of her, it was obvious enough why she'd done it in the first place. An escape from her feelings for the dancer would've been harder to come by without the frisson she got from Liliya, or the gravity she felt with Velvet. I've burnt myself out of 'normal' fun with joytoys, haven't I? Therrye almost laughed at the thought in the sort of way one laughs at the sight of a dagger buried hilt-deep into their body. Stars above, what am I doing?

Drawing herself back up so she could slowly move fingers along her scalp, focused in purely on that respite for just a moment, she then concentrated on breathing out some of the bloody barbs of her feelings.

Talking about work was a pleasant distraction, and something the bruiser would gladly lean into, though that, too, would end up backfiring some. "Going it alone would be plenty risky on my own, and I'm not looking to get zeroed over some eddies." There were far more important things ahead of her, after all, and then there was the whole 'living' thing, besides. "I think that if anyone could do it solo and walk out with just skin-deep scratches, it'd be you." As she said it, the praise sounded more like fact than opinion. "But knowing how dangerous it is..." A part of her hesitated to show her hand like this again and give voice to implications of how much she cared about her, yet at this point, what was the loss? "... I wouldn't want to see you get hurt." Therrye exhaled audibly, giving the dancer a half-smile. "No payday is worth dying over, and I suspect you'd run it just for the fun of besting something as paranoid as this death box." She chuffed quietly. "I'd much rather you didn't need a Trauma Team evac at the end of it. Besides, you already know I'll eat a few bullets for you." The bruiser winked at the woman in her bed, then, touching that sliver of energetic banter that'd emerged between them in that first job. "So, why not ace this as a duo instead of getting chunked as solos?"

Especially given the latest help from Aolieon, she felt like she could probably put her back to the dancer's and not end up perforated from it, and she already knew how wicked skilled the femme fatale was in the field. All she left out was that part of her still very much wanted to see the blue nightmare and be around her -- but that was something she didn't want to admit to herself, either.
 
"Hm," came the affirming note in acknowledgement of her soft reply. Aolieon took the moment of long pause to gloss over all of the features of her bedroom -- the album art, the posters, the drawings, the creative handmade art -- she was happy to be back in such a place with such intricate displays of expression... and yet, even they now seemed to carry a stronger energy in this room than their creator, who now sat close and whose own energy seemed to be getting more faint by the minute. It inspired Aolieon to quiet herself and simply listen to her words as she spoke.

She didn't want to linger on the mystery gal, but as she listened and tried to remain turned away from Therrye, she curled her chin inwards and sortve huddled in on herself subconsciously. So you do have a history with this woman, came the muted thought that would have been a reply... but again, Aolieon didnt want to dwell. There was a simple response to the bruiser's presence; the weight distribution on the bed and the faint presence of another's body heat in the comfortably cool room were things that she subconsciously brought attention to, but she withheld any thoughts of acting on them. Hearing a brief reiteration of her previous words on the enigmatic meaning of her chance tryst didn't bring Aolieon any comfort; that was for sure, as tightness in her chest tugged at that simple fact that the bruiser seemed to be going on like a broken record -- thereby quietly telling Aolieon she wasnt going to get much further at pressing the issue. "Well, we can stop by before too long," she finally muttered at the mentioning once more of Kara. That flew by her as quickly as a plastic bag in the wind however, as she quietly wrestled down her resentful thoughts of the entire ordeal -- they had no place in this room, although the lamenting void starting to be generated by the bruiser was starting to work counter-productive wonders when it came to inviting those thoughts into her space. She tossed and turned over onto her back, quietly listening to the bruiser go on about the job, which brought a reprieve from the weights that hung in the air, and even brought promise to potentially dispel them.

Still Aolieon listened quietly and intently, trying to decipher any meanings or feelings within the words. It didn't take her long to find some within her tone and rhetoric, because those words came again -- the ones about concern over any harm coming to her. To say that those words didn't rub her the wrong way once more would be a lie, but sensing the vulnerability of the situation, Aolieon bit her tongue. Nevertheless, it was something she just didn't understand; in an Edgerunner's line of work, protective concern for another had minimal room to grow or thrive. Everyone knew the risks of the Edge, everyone knew the Corpos and the Law had it out for you; everyone knew the status quo that in everything from working, to developing oneself through chrome was one big gambit where your life was the one major bargaining chip. Danger was an occupational hazard; harm's way was the main thoroughfare of business, and to express naive concern for one's health was the mantra of novice gonks. The only acceptable way to share concern for another's health was to Run alongside them yourself -- but that was what Therrye was alluding to, getting at -- and that wasn't lost on Aolieon, and for that she chose to let it slide... for now.
"Alright, alright already... You've won me over," Aolieon capitulated, not wanting Therrye to continue insisting upon her concerns, but more importantly not wanting the bruiser to continue her efforts at trying to sell the job harder than a fixer might even try. Still, the resignation in her voice carried a noticeably warm acknowledgement of its own. "Maybe after this one, we can go nice -- maybe for dinner or something," she teased with a trailing melodic chuckle, mildly entertaining the idea of a change in scenery or decorum with the interesting woman -- at the very least, it would allow her to showcase a different side of herself, and that was something that particularly excited.

A few minutes of awkward silence purveyed the room as she let that thought settle and potentially bring some neutrality back to the divide between them. Still, she found herself becoming quite attuned to the bruiser's change in demeanor -- she hadn't been looking directly at Aolieon; she could see her blushes and that something else was up. She kept her body turned away from the dancer, even going so far as to turn her back away. She kept her hands to herself, she kept her emotions out of her words as she seemed to be addressing every subject like small-talk, and clearly something was quietly eating away at her, by the looks of her muted and misdirected body language.. It was all off and askew from how Therrye had carried herself before, with a quiet confidence and gentle certainty in her movements and words. And in her own apartment, sitting on her bed, she almost seemed... shy.
This was a largely uncharacteristic change in presentation -- one that prompted Aolieon to try and be the one to act upon it, since the bruiser had now spent several minutes with the dancer lying practically naked in her bed and hadn't even chosen to make a move yet. Slowly propping herself up, it almost seemed like Aolieon had engaged a stealth-in-place demeanor as she quietly and slowly shifted from laying on the bed to sitting upright -- carefully placing a free hand in a spot on the bed as to not disturb her own weight distribution. She then slowly moved her head to be around the bruiser's other side; holding her breath for a second as to not let its warmth/coolness alert her to her presence... before she slowly brought the digits of her other hand to gently brush through Therrye's blue locks. Not at all being erotic with the movement, she seemed to lightly brush her fingers through the outer layers of her hair, letting her hand settle gently upon her left shoulder, before she gently let her breath out to let it caress the shoulder on the right -- a delicate misdirection for sure, but not one bearing any malice or passion. She tilted her head and took a breath before she began to speak.
"I know we don't really share anything what one might call a history, but..." she began, muttering in a soft and gentle voice as she looked into Therrye's face with a soft but altogether sincere expression. She looked away only slightly, licking her lips as she found the next words to say, and it was only a beat before her gaze returned and the words came. "... you have proven yourself to be a great many things in such a short span of time, Therrye... and bashful is not one of them." Aolieon spoke her name softly, tilting her head a little bit more with inquisitive but delicate in her meanings and tone; In your own home, no less, her thoughts mused. Nevertheless, she continued to engage Therrye on her level, and in the manner that she had seemed to indicate she wanted to be engaged. Once more, she gently brushed her hair with her fingers, letting her hand settle gently upon the spot where her left shoulder met the neck, as she offered an ardent smirk of warmth.
"I'm not just a pretty face, you know... and I wouldn't have come this far, if I didn't want to make sure you were really okay. So...? What's wrong?"
 
Therrye shrugged mildly at the dancer's seeming annoyance at her explanation. "You wanted to know why," she said simply. This seemed to be a common theme with her -- rarely did Aolieon actually want to hear anything positive or caring beyond compliments of her looks or skill at seduction. It was part of what made her feel so artificial at times, wrapped up and removed from so much of what the bruiser aimed for in her life. Glib flirts had far more effect on her than honesty or care, which was another of part of why she repeatedly felt like it was a mistake to engage with her. Right on cue, she played into that, and Therrye quietly chuffed, weariness noted in it. "'Nice' doesn't seem like your style." But there was a recent reminder that maybe there actually was a little more to the Liandri. "Then again, you enjoyed the ocean a lot more than I thought you would."

Getting a full read on her was difficult, especially given the volume of her own desires. She showed up for her, after having left no intentional way of getting in contact with her. She refused to be honest about her motivations, yet asked her to essentially take her out on dates. She hardly gave her emotions the time of day, while expressing that she didn't want her to 'make the same mistakes'. The back-and-forth of interest and distance, derision and desire was a little maddening. It would have been so much easier if Therrye could definitively conclude that she was not worth the trouble, and yet. And yet. Glimmers of heart and soul peeked out of the samurai even while she was intoxed on who knows how many shots, and the way their bodies responded to one another -- a shiver swept through her arms in spite of her body heat.

Liliya had made sense to her. Therrye her distance and her interest, and how cruel desire factored into all of it. That human offered a sting that she knew held rewards for the trouble, and it never threatened to capsize her. Aolieon, on the other hand, surprised her at every turn, aggravated her repeatedly, acted like a crimson saint then spat at her like some egotistical old-timer, then chased her down to offer help.

Fuck, why do I do this to myself . It was simple, of course: she couldn't help it. That was most frustrating of all.

Therrye startled some at the seemingly sudden presence of the woman in her space. Faced with her, she could not hide how thinly her violet irises ringed, or the immediate force in her breath. She almost tore herself away to balance out how strongly the ribbons were pulling at her. At her words, she half-winced, trying not to snarl, and leaned forward with riotous conflict in her gaze. "You  know what's wrong, Aolieon." A hand twitched, wanting alternatingly to shove the dancer down onto her bed and to pull her firmly into her lap. "Being around you, it's.." she trailed off, biting her teeth together and struggling against every impulse to lavish her with lust. The need to act reached an unbearable pitch, and she snatched up the woman, pulling her into a tight embrace that was at once both what she craved and so very much less than she desired. "You don't want me the way I want you," the words halfway between a whisper and a growl while her heart pleaded silently, "so just hold me a little while."
 
When the bruiser lunged at her, Aolieon actually flinched. Her eyes dilated for a moment, thoughts rushing and quite possibly expecting that there was something feral waiting to spring at her this entire time. Every word, every breath enraptured her in a single moment -- she half felt like she was going to have a heart attack from the feverish outburst of lust, excitement, validation and glee it filled her with. Her pupils shot open, wide as dinner plates at the prospect but she was frozen in place from this breakneck heel-turn; knowing not what to expect, she was quite easy to grapple and pull into a tight embrace as Therrye pulled her close and basically held her there for a second.

But when the truth came out, her pupils sharpened all of the sudden, as if out of fear; her eyebrows waned with a harsh pang at hearing her say those eight words, and her jaw dropped. The sharpening of her eyes into amber was not coldness, it was not wrath, it was not fear -- it was guilt, in realizing she was not at all the jilted one... but Therrye truly was. It floored her; to realize the bruiser had actually caught feelings that hard and that fast... and it left her speechless.
After a handful of silent breaths following Therrye's demand, her pupils came back to normal, and Aolieon did not immediately act in the negative; she merely frowned deeply, averting her gaze before bringing it back to her eyes. She slowly blinked and delicately wriggled her arms free, readjusting herself to pull out of Therrye's lap and gently bring her body back down to the bed. With an expression of guilt and silent submissive acquiescence -- she positioned herself to lay directly facing Therrye, interlacing her own legs with hers, adjusting so that she could be close and still look directly into her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her as best she could, and resigned herself to holding her for the time being.

So this is what consumed you so...
Aolieon couldnt believe it. They had only crossed paths once, and for the bruiser it was love at first sight. She had not simply told her off -- she had effectively broken her heart. Someone so strong, so assertive in their own confidence, with such a wondrous mastery of how to treat a woman... How? It almost brought a silver tear to her eye. She sighed lowly, and allowed her thoughts to mellow out -- she didnt know what to do. I never meant to hurt her... she slowly blinked, averting her gaze as she held Therrye. And I thought I was the emotionally fragile one... maybe we have more in common than I thought. She let the silence go on -- Therrye would have her wish... and this moment would continue for several minutes, quite possibly allowing Therrye to pull her closer and simply start drifting off to sleep.

🎶 "Minuit"🎶

But as her mind could not rest in knowing this revelation; her thoughts drifted to words that haunted her... heckled her... drove her to the quietest breaking point ever.
... A mercenary will sell his soul to the highest bidder. A soldier will sell his soul to whomever he thinks is right. A samurai will only ever sell their honor. But a true Warrior will sell their soul to whomever alongside them, braves the flames they may walk...
... I've made my choices; you have so many more to make... There's so much more to life than this...
... One often meets their destiny, on the road they take to avoid it...
... Start treating her like an Edgerunner ...

Several minutes later, quite possibly almost an hour later when it appeared that Therrye might have been about to drift off to sleep -- Aolieon would reach a hand up and begin stroking Therrye's hair. Nearly an hour of silence would be broken with Aolieon's words, as she began to speak.
"You sweet little rimbo..." she'd begin, speaking so softly and sweetly to her in the throes of sadness; her heart and mind beginning to walk a tightrope that existed between acknowledgement of the truth and validation of the bruiser's own true desires. She huffed with a shudder, steeling herself so that she didn't cry... eventually that emotion subsided, and she began to murmur sweetly and softly to Therrye's sensibilities. "In a perfect world, where I couldnt lose someone like you over nothing -- I'd make that leap of faith." Aolieon managed a smile at her, but the look of sadness and reverence she had for the bruiser's feelings was all-telling on her face. Her pupils dilated ever so slightly as she looked into her eyes, unwavering yet trying to move so gently as their souls stared across from each other, and she continued. Her voice seemed bittersweet, as if she was dipping her toes into something dark that she had been fighting hard to not indulge. "I'd hold on tight, and I'd never let go... but all the things Im wrapped up in are bigger than you could imagine." Aolieon paused, still feeling sorrowful for a moment; then she chuffed, and offered another fleeting smile. "Its more of a disaster, really..."

Aolieon trailed off, sighing with a shudder once more as she clutched her emotions tightly; a bittersweet vignette of fear, of grief and lamenting innocence lost was stuffed quickly inside a chest and put under lock and key for the moment -- there were worlds yet that still lacked the right to be spoken of. She huffed, then her expression softened as her gaze lowered deep, her eyes darkening for a moment, before the color in her eyes returned, soft and glimmering with a light of acknowledgement as she met her eyes again -- a certain ribboned essence reserved in its own existence of self and yet coming to Therrye as it was, her voice softening and speaking of things that had been laid in hope and filled with regret. "... I've already whispered the riddles in your ear; given you the keys to the garage. I could give it all up; I could just tell you everything -- but then you wouldnt choose me. Not for what I am."
Aolieon knew what those words meant to another at face-value -- in reality, she wasn't referring to her crimes and sins; no, that wasnt even the least of her worries... No, what she meant is that in the choice between the path all her friends walked, and the dancer -- she was afraid that the bruiser would make the choice that would destroy herself. Aolieon's breath paused for a moment as she struggled to find the words.
"Please try to understand -- you had to be warned of what might happen, if you choose to go down this road..." she continued stroking her hair, her expression sharing sorrow and sharpening with pain... which then quietly softened, as she placed her hand over her heart and looked deep into her eyes as the next few words poured out -- words that made an effort to validate what the bruiser spoke of.

"... I havent exactly tried to stop you; to prevent you from getting to know me... have I?"
 
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When Aolieon started withdrawing, she released her grip after a moment's hesitation. She half-expected her to simply leave, then; it would have made the most sense to the knowing and cynical parts of her. The dancer was not a lover, and with such souls, speaking honestly was losing the game of emotional chicken. How she could so  twice was almost mortifying. Being this out of sorts could not be good for her.

There was no rest waiting for her. She already knew the truth of it, of there being no room in Aolieon's existence for such emotions. Her silence and uncertain gaze said plenty.

The words of her predicament spoken, she hated them immediately, and hated that she hated them. How her heart conned itself into such exquisite torment, she didn't know, and she likely would have been much more hateful if she had. Wretchedly, persistently, she asked why... but there were no answers.

Her hope, in all of this silence, was that she would become so gorged on the suffering that she could tear the hooks free amidst so much blood. For so long, she'd cleaved to avoidance for dealing with the few places where she could not hold distance. Not once had she tried to just... immerse herself in the pain, to steep her soul in it and sit with that weight. Fingers slid and slipped over hooks slick in heartsblood and unshed tears, trying to find enough purchase to, for once, rip one free. She felt like she'd almost managed it, she was so close, when Aolieon finally broke the silence and offered a glimpse of hope. The hooks only dug deeper, then, burrowing out of reach.

She wanted to scream.

Witnessing the sorrow and near-wistfulness in her drew the bruiser through despair into confusion into hope. Painful as it was, it nevertheless separated her from the pieces that felt like they were bleeding out and dying in the nest of her sheets. Believing her remained a struggle, yet there was the iron of her resolve in her hands now. It was her turn to regard her with bafflement. "Why would that possibly stop me?" She closed her eyes with furrowed brows and exhaled before opening them to stare into the dancer's with the muted fierceness of her determination. "I've already made the choice to put everything on the line to make this world a better place. Yes, it's revenge, but it's also  just. I can't hold back from that any longer."

Therrye released a quiet huff of frustration. Faint urges to rattle the woman with the tension, the wild stress, the force of her feelings tangled through her arms, she'd already drawn back once. Doing more felt like it might push her away entirely. "You want me to prove that I won't balk in the face of overwhelming odds? Fine. I already know I'm going to bleed for what I want to see undone in Night City, yet I don't plan on dying along the way." She shook her head, choking the yearning in her into silence. "I don't know if you want a choom you can fuck on the side, a glittery toy to conquer and forget, or you're just conflicted in the face of actual loss. Dancer, I  want to get to know you, but you seem allergic to care. I'm a damn gonk for it, sure. I care, though, and that's not going to change." No matter how much I might want it to.

Running a hand through her hair, she glanced away, doing her level best to keep it together. "We both know death comes sooner or later, and I'm not going to pretend it's not in my future... so I'm going to live while I still can. I'd rather do that with more of you, but if you don't want it like I do, then why put either of us through this?" The question hurt, yet it needed to be said. Everything was starting to narrow in her life and she wouldn't have time for uninterested lovers. It would already take time enough to try to get over Aolieon, and soon enough, she didn't know if there would be any time left.
 
Aolieon had more she wanted to say, but she was stopped by Therrye's words. Halted in her own thoughts and simply listened. She scoffed into a sigh, letting her speak. She listened to the words, and all of it just made this so much harder. Spoken like a bona fide Runner, was all she thought. That was the problem, though -- any Runner would make the consciously right choice, if given it... and thats something she didnt want from the bruiser. She wanted Therrye to be able to choose herself; not Aolieon, not the Edge, not anything having to do with what she fought for, or anyone else she knew had died for... because against everything she had put herself against, everything had been made to mean nothing. Everything they had, they had lost...

... that's the crux of the life, though -- isn't it?
Anyone who chooses not to be content in their own lot, and not be a cog in the system; all choose to try and follow in the footsteps of Night City Legends -- all the way into the graveyard. It's such an easy choice, to say no to the status quo and try to fight it to make life better... Even when life had taken great strides to evolve along the Edge that someone could hypothetically live within their means doing safe Gigs and just keeping hold on a few things that made life precious -- people always wanted more; wanted to go higher, thinking it's the only way they'll ever be remembered... but the truth is that even the most mythic of Night City Legends are forgotten before too long. These days, the likes of Morgan Blackhand, Andrew Boa Boa and Johnny Silverhand were hardly a footnote in the tequila-side conversations of people fortunate enough to sit in the Afterlife bar -- the effects of the Night City Holocaust had long since subsided as the place "healed" and life continued to go on... Aolieon wanted something besides fame and glory once -- even when it looked like they could have left it all behind; that was taken away from her, too... because of that, Aolieon felt the need to press, to insist, to beg; point out all that Therrye had done with her life and highlight how everything she had said she was committed to in this moment might not be worth losing all of that over.

"You don't get it... I've seen everything youve built around your life; all the things that you surround yourself with -- all the friends youve made and the memories stuck on the wall. You have so much; more than I ever had. Deep down, the last thing I wanna do is take those choices away from you..." Aolieon sighed with a shudder, trying to gesture all around her; to all the creative artwork, all the album art and drawings -- she would have gotten up and dragged her to the photo collage in her room to gesture towards as the biggest piece of evidence to her point... all the friends and connections she had made. Surely, all of those don't mean nothing to her...?

"You told me once that you don't want to give up on living, just to become a sharper weapon -- that the life you once never had is one that you'll live for yourself, Therrye. You tell me now, that you dont plan on dying and want to live while you still can..." the words were tearing her apart. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and shuddered with a sigh, another silver tear escaping her eyes as she opened them. "They say the truth will set you free -- it just takes those choices away. Those choices could still be yours alone to make -- but only if the truth isnt given to you," Aolieon shook her head for a beat. "... but the truth and Life are oil and water; they do not go hand-in-hand, Therrye. Believe me when I say this, because I tried... I tried so hard. You cant have both."

Aolieon brushed her hair with her free hand, mentally clutching the last slivers of her own resolve to not drown in the sorrows of the past -- she didnt want to do that; she didnt want Therrye to see... her face came ao close to hers, and her words were now a grieving whisper. "Its not about what I want, Therrye; its never been about what I want. I told you already... I dont know what I want."
 
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