liesdontfindyou | Databurst IC Contact

This is Coda. Their wardrobe consists of soft greys and tans and white. Occasionally a brown or lavender will slip in their. So CT's probably not expecting them to come out of the bathroom a few minutes later in very vivid pajama pants, is she?

But they do, and watch CT for her reaction with a vague sort of amusement.

There’s a genuine flash of surprise on her face, that spreads out into an amused and delighted grin. “Well those are different. Very snazzy, and bright. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in something so saturated.”

And with that grin, it’s clearly not a bad different, just unexpected.

"Only for pajamas. It's sort of...not even really a secret, I don't mind people knowing, I just don't go out of my way to tell anyone. It's something I do that's wholly and solely for myself. I have another pair if you want to borrow them. They're dinosaur print."

This is how grown adults amuse themselves.

“It’s fun, they’re fun. And that’s actually very tempting, since as you can see,” she gestures at herself, “my colour-coding habits go all the way to bed with me. I’d worry about stretching them out, but if you think that wouldn’t be an issue... otherwise I can just admire your look.”

This is exactly how grown adults amuse themselves.

Coda pulls the dinosaur pants out of their bag, passing them over. "They're already nicely baggy on me, so they ought to be fine on you. Drawstring at the waistband and all. Go on, go on."

CT giggles and takes them, hopping off the bed to duck into the bathroom to switch from her leggings to the dinosaur pants. When she comes back out she tosses the leggings onto her bed, then playfully poses.

“This is probably the most non-brown shade you’ve seen on me since that time I code-dyed my hair bright pink.”

Coda looks at CT with admiration. In fact, those are definitely heart eyes.

"The pink was a great color on you. I might have to try coding to color my hair--it won't take dye, unfortunately. Also, when Mono and I plan the Trojan Housewares fashion show, I'll have to invite you to come model with us."

She really hopes her face isn’t starting to get warm, but her heart-rate certainly spikes another notch.

“I’d like that, that sounds like fun,” she says, clambering back onto her bed. She doesn’t sit right back behind the laptop, even if it’s close by, perching at the edge that faces the other bed. “Gil was telling me I should get some more clothes, since I have so much closet space here. Maybe I actually should, break the brown up a bit.”

She genuinely likes brown, and it suits her, but wearing only brown is very much a holdover from the Project.

"We ought to visit the mall before it disappears. There's some gems in the stores there--and I need to see if there's any new wrapping paper in the gift store. I've been folding it into little hats for Mono."

Coda lies belly down on 'their' bed, supporting their chin with their hands, kicking up their legs.

“Okay, that sounds adorable. We definitely should, I haven’t done a lot of poking around the stores there, first because of the soup kitchen, then those fake recordings warded me off... but if there’s normal stores, we may as well make the most of it.”

Her eyes rest naturally and casually on them, on them getting comfortable and their bright PJ pants, her lips never quite falling from an easy smile.

“If we’re heading into summer I should get some dresses, I think. What I’d really like to find is somewhere to get at least one other knife, but that feels rather niche.”

"Find a thigh sheathe that goes well under some nice dresses, and you'll have the best of all worlds. Clearly."

Coda laughs. "But yeah, we can find you some dresses."

“A thigh sheathe’s not a bad idea, actually; I haven’t had a good way to carry the knife I do have, my armour has the mag-points but, well, they’re no use unless I’m in it, and that’s not happening again any time soon.”

God, what an emotional wringer of a month.

“I don’t know if Gil told you about what happened with that. I told him to warn you I might be late to the soup kitchen the next day, but...” she shrugs. “I’m fine, so don’t worry, but it’s probably better if you know in case circumstances ever do mean I have to wear it again.”

It’s one of multiple things she should tell them, she knows. Each for different and yet the same reason.

"He didn't go into detail, just that you'd had a rough time. From Gil, I take that pretty seriously. But...tell me?" Coda's voice has grown softer, in an attempt to be reassuring here.

“I said I’d show him my armour and holographic projections, since the tech behind them both is actually very cool. He took me up on it, didn’t push me or anything, and I... well, I thought I could handle it. Wearing the armour again, after... you know.”

Her eyes flick over to the armoire where the armour’s stored, then back to Coda. She picks at the edge of the bedsheet.

“It felt wrong from the second I put it on, but I tried to muscle through. Almost did, until I tried to run a projection and... I freaked. Full on panic attack. Totally incoherent until Gil managed to find skin and use that new power of his. I was fine, after, besides being exhausted and having a headache, but... yeah,” she smiled almost sheepishly. “Turns out I cannot handle it, not for long anyway.”

"Gil's...one of the best people to be around when you're not alright. He was even before the empathy thing happened, but don't tell him that. But...it makes sense, that it would fuck you up pretty bad, putting the armor back on. I hope it's not something you ever end up needing to do."

She smiles properly at them, gently. “He was great, he sat and talked with me after, about... death, stuff. It helped. I’m going to maybe see about repairing the armour anyway, in case, but... yeah, hopefully not. Hopefully no one,” them, specifically, “will ever have to see me that messed up again.”

She stretches her leg over to bump the edge of the mattress they’re on with her foot, then shifts how she’s sitting again, legs up under her.

“It... it got me thinking about things, if nothing else. Well, it wasn’t only that, there was... a lot going on, in those couple weeks, but...” she shrugs, as if her heart hasn’t started to pick up its pace again, fluttering rapidly in her chest.

Edited (apostrophe) 2021-05-27 07:51 (UTC)

"But?" Coda shifts as well, resting their hand on one hand, the other reaching out toward CT lightly. Or maybe it's an offering, that hand. Or both. Either way, it's cool and gentle.

She reaches back and takes the hand without a word, shuffling forward but not immediately following her instinct to join them on the other bed, to seek that closeness.

“There’s... a few parts to all of this. I’ve been thinking a lot about what being here in the city means, for me; about... about everything that’s happened here, what being here’s given me, who I am here.”

She breathes out slowly. Organises her thoughts. Where to start... what to say... she’s thought about all of this endlessly over the last couple of weeks, but articulating it all is harder with them right there, their hand in hers.

“I’m... I’ve told you before that I feel... I feel more me, with you, right? Like I can just be me. Be... known,” CT says, as Connie squeezes Coda’s hand. “And... and I think— I think I’d like it if you started calling me Connie, when we’re on our own. It’s... it’s my name, it’s who I was before I became CT. It’s who I feel like when I’m spending time with you.”

Her heart flutters faster and god, how is it she feels so amped up already when that’s the easy part of all of this?

"Connie." Coda's begun to understand what type of conversation this is. Which they're okay with, they know this.

"Can I move over to that bed with you?" Even without Gil's power of touch empathy, closeness is going to help here. They want to be right there with CT...no, with Connie.

Hearing that name, her name, on someone else’s lips for the first time in years, on their lips, is almost enough to make her forget how to breathe. It feels... right. To be that. To be Connie.

CT— Connie nods, giving their hand another squeeze and then a gentle tug as further affirmation. They can join her. She even shuts the still-open laptop and pushes it far out of the way.

Letting them move over gives her time to gather her words again, too.

And so Coda moves to settle on the bed comfortably, lying on their side, almost curling around where Connie's sitting and looking up at her calmly.

"I've been thinking about things sort of like that lately. Kind of because of Artemis disappearing, you know? Because...there's things I didn't say to him. That I wish I had."

Her heart about does a flip in her chest as she nods with understanding. Yeah, things like that; things you have to say before they’re gone, or you’re gone—that’s what scares her, that she’s only here as long as the simulation is. That there’s a countdown ticking down somewhere she can’t see it.

“Yeah. Yeah. I want... I want to make the most of this time I’ve been given.”

One hand raises briefly as if to reach out and touch their face, but she hesitates again; she wants to get this all laid out, first. Let them make a choice with all the information, not half.

“...after Church found that fake conversation, I... realised I’d been lying to him by omission, ever since he got here. I know things about him, and I should have told him from the start, and... and it reminded me that honesty’s still an effort, for me, you know? And it’s easier with you, too; I’ve never lied to you. I wouldn’t, not even little things, and yet there’s this... big thing, huge thing, that my fears wanted to lock away.”

She finds their hand again. That’s a good compromise.

“But I can’t do that. Fear or not. I can’t hide something so big from you.”

Coda's hand folds around Connie's. "Tell me?" It's soft. Being so close, all they need to do is whisper.

They think they might have an idea where this is going, but the words matter. And they're going to have to work out some things as well--after all, Coda's sort of entangled with Gil and Bugsy, and not sure how that'll sit with Connie.

Connie finds herself holding her breath until she makes the conscious choice to stop, to breathe evenly again. She focuses on the familiar chill of their hand against hers and, finally, oh so quietly, vulnerably: “...I love you. And— And I know that’s a strong word, that no matter how you feel that it may be too— intense, to say so soon, but I don’t have another word for it that doesn’t feel... inadequate. God, even realising that’s what I was feeling at all took Wash feeling it and telling me, I just knew you’re important, that I care about you so goddamned much and— what else can I call that? So, yeah. I— I love you, Coda.”

She can’t help but look away from their face, nervous as she is, but she never let’s go of their hand. There’s an intense sense of caring even in just that, the steady way she holds on.

"I love you, too." There's no hesitation to that. Connie is important, Connie matters to Coda so much. These little moments, the tender ones and the silly ones and even the painful ones have been vital to Coda. It is what it is, love.

"Now the more complicated piece: what do you want to do about that?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject