Gone to Ground; Entanglement AU for [personal profile] worm_dancer

Mar. 1st, 2013 11:52 am
questionablewit: (clear gaze)
[personal profile] questionablewit posting in [community profile] faemused
Hawke would never have believed there'd be a time when she would miss the junkstation. How do you miss a place held together largely by duct-tape which could fall apart at any minute, leaving you floating in the Void?

Answer: by going to ground in a similarly ratty (with some actual rats, or at least rat-like rodents, which at least keeps Teo happy chasing them) colony, except in this one they have to live in a state of constant paranoia because the Fay'lia are after them. Brilliant. It was perhaps inevitable that the Fay'lia would get around to destroying Senburu-Trati'salan, but the way they enjoy finding and squishing the refugees who made it out is almost insulting.

Still, there are...compensations. For one thing, the food's better here (which isn't saying much). And Hawke has no complaints about her company. Except perhaps exhaustion.

Bigger bed than she had on the station, too, which is fortunate. Hawke stretches her arms above her head, musing. "How long have we been here now, blue eyes?"

Never did find a more creative nickname. Hawke really should be ashamed of herself.

Date: 2013-03-01 08:04 pm (UTC)
worm_dancer: (dodgin/hiding)
From: [personal profile] worm_dancer
"Three days, nine hours, twelve minutes and fifty one seconds, my pretty bird." Said Sheeana, who'd killed a lot of the time meditating or riskily exploring their new slum. She was rather blase' about their exile. A Reverend Mother had a long view on empires, for whom they were but blinks in the consciousness of the species. The Fay'lia followed a historical pattern and would march into the dross heap of history in lock step themselves soon enough, she thought. The worshippers of Holy Sheeana, Daughter Of Dur who'd helped them out showed that.

She watched Hawke stretch languidly with a discerning eye. She loved observing Hawke's body in its movements. A warrior's body, not some coddled revolutionary intellectual. There was more than enough time to explore it so she was in no rush. Hawke wasn't a target, at least not of her.

She stretched out and lay down beside her. Whatever sweet nothing she was going to say was cut off by a sharp pain and an intake of breath.

Spice withdrawal. She'd been rationing herself.
Edited Date: 2013-03-01 08:05 pm (UTC)

Date: 2013-03-05 11:36 pm (UTC)
worm_dancer: (dodgin/hiding)
From: [personal profile] worm_dancer
Sheeana considered what to say (her face briefly dropping into that expression from which no cues could be derived, called 'BG Placid'). She was never one to admit weakness easily and her Voices Within urged her not to. What good would come of admitting a Reverend Mother's weakness? But Hawke deserved to know what was happening to her.

"Spice withdrawal. I've been rationing it."

She reached out to her, around her neck and gave a gentle pull inward.

"Will you soothe my aches?"

Sex had been her distraction from boredom at Desert Watch. It could keep her mind off the pangs, at least for a little while here.

Date: 2013-03-15 10:23 am (UTC)
worm_dancer: (sexy)
From: [personal profile] worm_dancer
"My pretty bird, my sweet panacea..." She said under her breath as Hawke nipped her. It was an animal kindof marking, signifying trust that you allowed your partner to put their teeth where your blood pulsed the hottest, as Sheeana's did.

Her hand remained at her neck, thumb trailing down to press the first three arousal points, the kind of thing she'd do for someone she was trying to seduce. This wasn't for that though, but to use her hard earned skills for her partner's pleasure...and yes, maybe to show off a little.

Her other hand snaked up the back of Hawke's shirt, loving the feel of those hard-bunched muscles under her fingertips.


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