The pain-streaked voice came again, soaked in an oddly British accent and drenched in frustration. Fate knew the feeling. He wasn't capable of helping in the flesh. He wasn't some lump plugged in and living in a breather-bed but he also wasn't exactly "socially capable". Except in cases where very special precautions had been taken, the outside provided too much stimulus for him to venture more than a step or two beyond his hidey-hole. He could still do it. Barely. In case of emergencies that required relocation of his servers and operating systems. With an HUD, he could minimize the noise, lights, smells, signals, everything jabbing at him at once.
"Well un-cock it, then," he said, but it came out less like a tease and more like a gentle coaxing.
Coping mechanisms weren't by any means optimal. The last time he'd been forced to jump ship, even with the headgear he'd shaken like a junkie the whole time. There was also the Heat to consider. And any number of corporations and bounty hunters who, were they to discover what he looked like or to track him down, would saw off his limbs and display his implants like trophies. Or warnings, to other would-be hackers. Fate felt a slight shudder ripple down his back and he gave himself a shake. Getting her to coping might mean she'd be able to get herself out. Not optimal, but by far more expedient than getting the android he'd found in the East Quad to her present location, even if the damn thing hopped public trans.
Her laughter made the corner of his mouth quirk upward. That was promising. Very promising. "I did indeed. But you know that, because I'm the idiot who told you...." his voice trailed off as he registered the breathy, half-panicked words that had been part of her tease. Definitely pictures of her and... "...oh. OH."
Wanked...one...off...
Fuck but this game could've gone such a different way... His eyes went wide and he coughed. "Might've been useful to know that was you. Or that you weren't some gay dude trying to get me all worked up. Might've paid off for you, in fact."
There was a strong possibility it still might, once they got her out of there. Despite her more lucid commentary, the screens kept coming, audio kept playing--at softer levels, now that he had a handle on it from his end--and her calculations kept humming. This was not the time to push things. Or maybe it was? She'd come around when he started talking about those pictures...
"If it'll help...Aw, come on, pip." The near-affectionate term didn't come with an accent, nothing like hers. He both spoke and typed the words that came next.
>>"Ignore the ugly flashing things."
>>"Why look at them when you can look at me?"
He shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have sent a pic of his hands, fingers outstretch on the keys, hunting feline tattoo stretched out languidly along the curve of his right. Shouldn't have taken the time to crop it from a shot internal to his workspace, the cameras mounted on his ceiling on a closed circuit, and definitely shouldn't have encrypted it and buried the metadata so she couldn't run backtraces like he'd done with hers. But he did. He fired it her way like a puzzle to solve even as her viewpoint shifted toward the higher echelons of the station. He wasn't sure if she was yet out-of-the-woods enough to solve it, but she was closer than she had been; the panicked nonsensical messages were no longer flooding from her mind to his machines.
He tapped on his chin as he shut down the lowjack on his appropriated android. It left its charging station and swiped a hacked trans card en route to her pit of despair. Wasn't as if she'd feel rewarded on opening his pic--not when he considered the quality of the shots she'd sent him. But the alternatives...seemed like they might be timed inopportunely. "Just to check because this isn't really a situation people get briefed on etiquette for: Sending you a penis-gram after dumping you in a terrifying hole probably isn't the smoothest apology, yes?"
He stopped tapping. "I didn't. Uh. It's not. Don't get your hopes up."
"Well un-cock it, then," he said, but it came out less like a tease and more like a gentle coaxing.
Coping mechanisms weren't by any means optimal. The last time he'd been forced to jump ship, even with the headgear he'd shaken like a junkie the whole time. There was also the Heat to consider. And any number of corporations and bounty hunters who, were they to discover what he looked like or to track him down, would saw off his limbs and display his implants like trophies. Or warnings, to other would-be hackers. Fate felt a slight shudder ripple down his back and he gave himself a shake. Getting her to coping might mean she'd be able to get herself out. Not optimal, but by far more expedient than getting the android he'd found in the East Quad to her present location, even if the damn thing hopped public trans.
Her laughter made the corner of his mouth quirk upward. That was promising. Very promising. "I did indeed. But you know that, because I'm the idiot who told you...." his voice trailed off as he registered the breathy, half-panicked words that had been part of her tease. Definitely pictures of her and... "...oh. OH."
Wanked...one...off...
Fuck but this game could've gone such a different way... His eyes went wide and he coughed. "Might've been useful to know that was you. Or that you weren't some gay dude trying to get me all worked up. Might've paid off for you, in fact."
There was a strong possibility it still might, once they got her out of there. Despite her more lucid commentary, the screens kept coming, audio kept playing--at softer levels, now that he had a handle on it from his end--and her calculations kept humming. This was not the time to push things. Or maybe it was? She'd come around when he started talking about those pictures...
"If it'll help...Aw, come on, pip." The near-affectionate term didn't come with an accent, nothing like hers. He both spoke and typed the words that came next.
>>"Ignore the ugly flashing things."
>>"Why look at them when you can look at me?"
He shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have sent a pic of his hands, fingers outstretch on the keys, hunting feline tattoo stretched out languidly along the curve of his right. Shouldn't have taken the time to crop it from a shot internal to his workspace, the cameras mounted on his ceiling on a closed circuit, and definitely shouldn't have encrypted it and buried the metadata so she couldn't run backtraces like he'd done with hers. But he did. He fired it her way like a puzzle to solve even as her viewpoint shifted toward the higher echelons of the station. He wasn't sure if she was yet out-of-the-woods enough to solve it, but she was closer than she had been; the panicked nonsensical messages were no longer flooding from her mind to his machines.
He tapped on his chin as he shut down the lowjack on his appropriated android. It left its charging station and swiped a hacked trans card en route to her pit of despair. Wasn't as if she'd feel rewarded on opening his pic--not when he considered the quality of the shots she'd sent him. But the alternatives...seemed like they might be timed inopportunely. "Just to check because this isn't really a situation people get briefed on etiquette for: Sending you a penis-gram after dumping you in a terrifying hole probably isn't the smoothest apology, yes?"
He stopped tapping. "I didn't. Uh. It's not. Don't get your hopes up."
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
The following 1 user Likes danixiewrites's post: Tindome
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RE: Wicked, Wanton, and Wired [Closed] - by Blade - 11-20-2015, 10:50 PM
RE: Wicked, Wanton, and Wired [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 11-21-2015, 07:12 PM
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RE: Wicked, Wanton, and Wired [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 02-22-2016, 07:24 PM
RE: Wicked, Wanton, and Wired [Closed] - by Blade - 03-04-2016, 05:08 AM