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Futuristic Eradication

"You could try to, but I'd probably have to tear off your mouth."


The boy tried to smile, but the grotesque images of a lipless face began to haunt him. Geez, lady. He didn't bother trying to recover from that. Marge stared with cold, unimpressed eyes once again before she reviewed their marriage sheet. After a minute or two, she said,


"You're free to go."


She made it sound like two prisoners had just been released from prosecution.


Takeshi tossed his collar into the bin as he began walking towards the door. As soon as he left those doors, he would have a different life. A life with Novi in it. He admired her, the way she carried herself, but he wasn't so sure he himself was likable enough. After all, he was just a Lower-Class factory man.


Takeshi would have liked to be certain only beneficial things would come in their relationship, but with a significant other, ups and downs would have to be expected. This, he learned from the many advices his mother graced him with when she still lived at the house.


Takeshi, when the Love Harvest comes, remember: you may not like your partner or your partner may not even like you. But you must change that because without love, life does not exist. His mother would tell him stories before he went to bed and every night, there was a moral to it, a lesson to be learned, a tip for life's troubles.


Now that his mother was gone, her advices floated around in his head like a leaky oil barrel in a freshwater sea, sometimes clinging to the walls of his brain.


He pushed on the door and was greeted with a purple sky. He stood by the door, pressed against it, holding it open for her.


"Would you like to join me for a meal? For dinner? It's dinnertime, right?" Takeshi squinted at his watch, straining to tell the time, as the inside bulb had shattered. Winter days became darker earlier in the day and sometimes he couldn't tell the difference between morning and night. Well, whatever mealtime it was, Takeshi only wanted to know more about her.


@Agent Nine
 

"You're free to go."


Oh? Are my three years up, already? And no probation, either?


Novi tossed the collar into the collection bin, letting out a relieved sigh as she massaged her throat. Finally; that thing's shrill beeps had just started to get inside her head. It had been wired, hadn't it? She wondered if the stupid device had given her a rash or tumors that she wouldn't find out about until a few years later. Then she willed the thoughts away, just happy to have her throat free.


She looked up from where her eyes had gone wandering again to spot Takeshi over by the door, holding it open for her. Huh. That'd never happened, before. Maybe chivalry wasn't dead, after all. Still, Novi couldn't help but give him a questioning look as she walked out of the building, holding a hand up to shield her eyes from the immediate onslaught of the sun. When he spoke, Novi turned to look at him, her eyes widening a bit in surprise. He was...inviting her to dinner? Where, at his house? With other people? The need to ask was strong, all of a sudden, but Novi ignored it for the time being.


"Uhhh...I think it's a lil' bit too early for dinner," She replied after a moment, still looking surprised. "Unless that's a thing you do, but...uhhh...sure? I did only have a piece of fruit for breakfast."


A banana, at that. It only sat with her for a few minutes; jogging half the way to the building for the hell of it had used it all up.


"So...lunch, I guess?"


Lunch. With him. Something probably expected, but that didn't kill the apprehension that came with it. And yet, the idea of possibly going back to her own house where Aurie would or wouldn't be waiting...yeah, no, that wasn't happening. The awkward-meter would skyrocket.


Hell, maybe they wouldn't even eat at his house. Maybe they'd...go to a diner or...something. One where she could order breakfast instead of actual lunch.


@CommodoreOlaf

 
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"Right. Lunch."


Takeshi fished for his sturdy wallet, barely held together by at least an entire roll's worth of duct-tape, when he realized it was in his casual pants pocket, tucked away inside his duffel bag.


He hadn't changed out of his white parachute suit, and he looked absolutely absurd. Had any of the other couples changed out of their clothes? Takeshi couldn't recall or he hadn't noticed. Would she mind if I changed real quick?


"Hey, do you wanna change back into your normal clothes?" He back pedaled until he found the door again. "We could probably use the-"


He pulled, but this time the door didn't open. It had locked behind them. Takeshi knocked on the door, peering into the window, before a couple seconds later, Marge came into view.


Oh, thank God. Takeshi sighed a sigh of relief. He and Novi would look like regular people again, they would head to someplace to eat, and after-


Marge placed her fingers on the open sign and flipped it the dreaded one-hundred eighty degrees so it read "CLOSED". She presented him one last unamused stare before pressing a button that dimmed the window.


Takeshi gulped. Now what were they supposed to do? He couldn't walk around public wearing that? At least for her, the suit didn't make her legs resemble a deployed air-drag landing device. She'd be more embarrassed to be with him than she already was, if that was the case.


Dammit Marge, I thought you believed in me. Takeshi mumbled something he immediately forgot and turned towards Novi, a disappointed tsk at his lips. Then he thought of some other solution.


"Do you wanna come to my place and take that off? Your place is fine too." He asked nonchalantly. It was a couple seconds before he realized how wrong that sounded to her ears.


"I meant, would you like to change, as in, like instead of these clothes, wear something better?"


Wow, Takeshi.


"Not that you don't look good, I mean you do look good, but not in a creepy way."


Stop, stop. Right there's good.


"More like in a, I respect.." He


"your.." sticks


"Appearance.."the


"..as a woman.."landing


"Kind of way..." Takeshi turned away from her. Was it always this hard to make friends?


@Agent Nine
 

Novi blinked as he took out his wallet, silently wondering if it would fall apart should she walk over to him and smack it out of his hands. She wouldn't, but the thought was interesting enough. It's about time you trade that thing in for a new one, bucko.


That was when he brought up the subject of changing, and Novi stared down at herself, pinching the whitewashed fabric in places. She'd actually forgotten that she wasn't wearing her own clothes, for a moment. Hers were stored in a little shelf back in the hall where she'd changed, earlier. "That would be good," Novi muttered, starting to follow him back to the building before he stopped. Out of nowhere, Marge's gaunt, age-scarred face made itself visible, gazing at them both with uninterested eyes. When she flipped the sign, Novi frowned, watching in annoyance as the window was dimmed. That wrinkly old...


As Takeshi stood by the door, mulling over his parachute pants and lunch, Novi marched her way up to the door and mashed on it with a fist. "Hey! Hey! Get back here and let us in!" The young woman commanded, frustrated and fueled by impatience. "Hey! Hello?!"


No dice. Marge was probably sitting at that table, right now, with earplugs jammed in her ears, pretending that they didn't exist. "Well, it looks like our clothes belong to the government, now," Novi grumbled, giving the door a final smack before turning back to Takeshi.


Then she stood there, slowly crossing her arms and staring at him in wonder as he started stumbling over his words. That stumble soon turned into a trip that sent him down a flight of proverbial stairs.


Truthfully, Novi got his point the first time, realizing that he probably hadn't meant for it to sound suggestive or anything. But she kept quiet, waiting to see how far he could mess up, a slight smirk upon her face.


When he'd finished, ultimately looking away from her, Novi couldn't help but snort. "Yeah, yeah, try not to hurt yourself, Shakespeare, I get it. And unless you want me wearing your clothes, I think we might be making two stops. Unless you can convince Mrs. Happy in there to let you in to get your clothes."

 
The day was basically over and Xavier stood alone with the woman who was supposedly "destined" to be his perfect match. He didnt really know where to go from there. He knew that they needed to report themselves and get registered. But Xavier would be lying if he said that was something he wanted to do. He stood there unsure of the entire situation, and the concept of getting one in the back while he tried to run away was becoming more and more desirable. At the end of the day though, this was where he was, face to face with his future wife. How much that phrase sent a shudder down his spine, a government win against his biggest loss.


"I wont really mess around here." Xavier began. "My name is Xavier Crane, I guess we're going to be spending a lot of time with each other." he said as he rubbed the back of his neck, not sure of how the young lady was taking the situation. "It would probably be best if we just get the registration over with and get out of here. Maybe grab some food or something." he let out the best smile that he could and extended his hand out to her. Hopefully, this situation wouldnt be as bad as he was making it out to be.
 
Sammy adjusted her goggles as she peered at one of her recent experiments. It had exploded and bits of the chemical had attached to her lab coat and hair. Looking closer at the molecules that hadn't been blasted into the area around her. Making a slide with what she could dab onto a q-tip, she grinned. Perhaps the compound hadn't been a success, but she thought she was getting closer to an answer.


She had been assigned by her professor to find a compound that both fizzled and became a solid, possibly going through a cycle of both. She had gotten close with this one, but it had deteriorated violently last minute. As she placed a slide under one of her microscopes, there was a knock at the door. "Come in!"she called as she slid her goggles up. She was peering down at the substance when her mother said, "Sammy, you need to go your Love Harvest today. You'll be late if you don't leave now." Sammy could hear her mother's tapping foot behind her.


"One minute,"Sammy muttered as her right hand started to write notes on a piece of paper beside her. "I'm so close." Her mother tapped her foot again behind her. With the last of her notes written, Sammy looked back to her mother and grinned. "I should have the solution just anytime now!"she said excitedly. Her mother crossed her arms and pointed toward the door. "Sammy, you're going to be late! You can expect an excellent match if you're always late to places," she scowled. Sammy sighed and left the lab her parents had allowed her to create in their extra room in their house. She looked at the time on the wall clock and and started running. She slipped off her lab clothes and quickly changed into something more casual, like a t-shirt and jeans.


Pass a mirror on the way out, she picked some of the green molecule residue out of her hair before dashing out the door, not making sure that she had gotten all of it out. "Later, Mom!"she called before catching a cab.

* * *




Once she was suited in the very plain white attire and checked herself over while she waiting in her line. She had insisted that they let her keep her goggles, since they wouldn't interfere with the white suit. They had allowed it, but only after much convincing. She used it as a way to keep her hair pulled back, some bits of her bangs hug over her forehead while the other pieces pointed upwards behind her goggles.


The lines started forward after the announcements and as soon as Sammy entered the room where the mingles started, her collar began to beep. She followed the beeps and while the room around her was surrounded in noise, she finally found the boy. He was a handsome young man, with dark hair and dark eyes. She hurried toward him, the beeping louder and louder until she nearly tackled him. She grinned widely and took his hand in hers.


"Hi, partner! Looks like we are gonna be best friends for life!"she said ecstatically as she shook his hand. Her hair bounce around her face, the pink bringing out her bright green eyes. "My name is Samantha, but my friends call me Sammy. It's great to meet you!"


@Flabbysaurus


(( Sorry about the delay. Work and life and things. ))
 
((Sorry Nine, I was out all day. >_< ))


"Yeah, yeah, try not to hurt yourself, Shakespeare, I get it. And unless you want me wearing your clothes, I think we might be making two stops. Unless you can convince Mrs. Happy in there to let you in to get your clothes."


Takeshi was almost positive the building was closed for the day.


"I think Marge is jealous of us." He joked.


They'd have to get back their clothes tomorrow if they were getting them back. He regained his posture and returned to her, this time meticulous about his speech.


"Okay, um, there's a restaurant downtown, the Iron Maiden, that I go to sometimes. We could go to our separate houses and then meet up at there. Once I get outta this thing.." He gestured toward his government suit, it's large shell getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.


"Unless you have somewhere or something else to do in mind.." Takeshi said, making sure to give her ample room for her opinion.


He kicked a rock on the ground and watched it skip across the pavement. It would've made it across had it not rolled into the storm drain, click-clacking the sides on the way down.


@Agent Nine
 
Skye Yoona Park


Skye's breath caught in her throat briefly. A phantom vision of James strode forward with a petulant expression that melted briefly into a knowing, adoring grin. With its first step there was a distortion of the image and its colors saturated quickly then faded. The second step took away the opacity and bled its varied fading hues horizontally to the left, as if a dry brush had been dragged over a painting. With the third it was whisked away with an invisible wind. Black hair swirled into beige skin tones and all that was left was a similar white suit that approached with the confidence and unintentional swagger men had. It was one of those little things that made the genders so distinguishable on close inspection, but often overlooked. A woman would sway her hips slightly, with legs closer together, the natural physiological differences accentuating with movement. It was simply another thing to miss once in the company of purely your sex, when separated from a relationship you still yearn for.


What did her mind mean to tell her with these games? That this was the last vision of James for another man entered her life? No mental conjuring would splash the realistic phantasm back into this landscape of humanity as it had been that second before. Only the suit, so ordinary and spectacular, remained from the whisked away illusion. Indeed this was a hall of unity- though not as expected. Reality urged her to remember that fundamentally James was just a man who was genetically compatible with her. So advanced another man who was different, yet the same. Instead of disparaging the differences, she could unify these halves of her life, these men in her life, even before it all coalesced.


Unity.


Skye blinked once very slowly and saw the man before her a second before he was upon her. No more fleeting hallucinations. It was time to get a grip. Her mother had once accused Skye of being overly sentimental. It was a strange thing for a mother to accuse her child of being. Skye was initially perplexed and confused because she had always simply assumed that her parents were a functional, loving couple. It had never occurred to her that her mother's heart wandered or was cold to her father. She was certain they did love each other in their own way- but she also realized they were adults likely putting on a facade for the benefit of their children. All couples fought and argued, it was just when, where, and to what degree it occurred. To think of her parents as people with needs, who may or may not be satisfied emotionally within the boundaries of their wedded life, was new. Silly assumptions of a naive adolescent.


What first struck Skye was that he was taller. James was Asian and closer to her height, but this newcomer was a full five inches taller than she was. It was not quite enough to tower over her and cause some sort of height crisis, but it would take some adjustment. The next observation (which was much more important) was that his collar contained purple- military. Skye was rather indifferent to the military on a whole as she had no experience with them either positive or negative. Muscles- ones that were more developed than the natural strength of being able to open jars- rippled beneath the fabric and Skye was admittedly impressed. She had never met anyone that had any experience in combat or anything more pronounced than a vanity six-pack- and even those weren't necessarily obtained through rigorous exercise. Trying to drink in the entire presence made her a novice of sorts. The Love Harvest itself was known to her but none of what she saw in him was at all familiar. Hell, even his complexion contrasted her own.


As he greeted her with a name that sounded much more European than her own, she saw how logically they were more genetically compatible than even she and James were. Her frame was petite and unimpressive (except for squeezing into tighter spaces, perhaps) while his was considerably more sturdy. Together any potential children would be a careful balance in-between, a nice blend of the strengths of talents and physique.


"It is nice to meet you," Skye finally spoke, her voice mellow and a touch hard to hear in the clamor of the crowd. "I'm Skye Yoona Park, but please, just Skye." For a couple years she had been Skye Yoona Lee, but she had been persuaded with frequent, incessant nagging that it would be a healthy 'letting go exercise' to assume her maiden name. The government didn't really concern itself with what widows called themselves before they were matched again, so it was all just a minor social issue. "I hope you won't ask me to take your last name before I can pronounce it properly," she said with a small smirk. Hopefully her sense of humor would ease the situation just slightly. With cautious optimism, she reached forward and shook his hand. It felt dwarfed in his grasp- another innocuous reminder of his masculinity if the rest was not enough.


Admittedly, she had not had too much contact with men since James. Naturally she fell in with other women when she finally emerged from a cocoon of grief. There was one gentleman in her study group at university, but given the inflection in his voice and his unusually good attire, there was a rumor that he would have preferred a husband to a wife if it were possible.


"I must confess, I was a little worried I'd end up with a boy just slightly older than my younger brother," she added with a smile. Yes, witty discourse was one way to keep an emotional distance from the situation and Hans.


@Hanzax
 
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((That's okay. X3))


Iron Maiden? Wasn't that a metal band or something?


Novi listened to him as they walked, compelled to stick her hands in her pockets only to be reminded that she didn't have any pockets. Stupid faulty pants.


"No, no ideas on my side. The place sounds nice," She commented, her attention briefly diverted as she watched the rock he kicked go vanishing through some metal grating on the side of the road. There was a faint plunk as it hit some stale water at the very bottom. Novi stared at the drain for a moment, her mind wander, before lifting her head and turning her attention to Takeshi. "I'll meet you there, then. Peeling this crap off shouldn't take long, but if you get there before me, save me a seat, I guess."


With that, Novi turned on her heels and started down a sidewalk. If things went smoothly enough, she could stop in her house, get changed, and leave before Aurie had a chance to open her mouth. If she even opened it to begin with; that dose of concern and emotion this morning could have easily been the only one she'd get.


Novi kept her head down as she walked away.


@CommodoreOlaf

 
Hearing the knocking from the other side of the door, Vincent turned away from the mirror, tags swaying around his neck as he turned his body. He looked at the white rectangle with a quizzical expression, not really sure of what to expect. Putting one foot in front of the other, he approached until his hand rested on the knob.


'That had to be the owner, right?' That was the only reasonable guess as to who was behind the door. Based on the size of the room and the furniture inside, this house had to be quite large, so it was also possible that this was a servant of some sort. His mind was still a bit foggy, but he could still think properly enough to predict who the person was. However, his reactions were still a bit on the slow side, so it hadn't quite registered that he was clearly in the Upper Class or that he had been taken away against his will.


Turning the handle, Vincent had expected to find some elderly man or someone in a uniform of some kind. Instead, he was greeted by a slightly taller being in fuzzy socks. It was the complete opposite of what his brain had been picturing.


On a account of his delayed reactions, Vincent hadn't shown much change from when the door remained unopened. He still stood calmly and maintained a relaxed facial expression. However, after a short moment of doing nothing blinking, his brain had switched on.


Eyes widening and eyebrows raising, everything had registered at once. He was in the Upper Class, he was kidnapped, and the culprit was the person he had been trying to get away from. It was a lot to take in all at once.


Pointing an accusatory finger at Emilia, Vincent proved he was back in full effect by returning to his usual, angry self. "Criminal! Kidnapper!" Using the hand still on the doorknob, Vincent slammed the door, Emilia dissappearing from sight and a glare firmly in place on the young man's face.


After briefly putting a barrier between himself and his abductor, Vincent quickly paced around the room, looking for some means of escape. However, there were none. There weren't any windows or doors connecting to any other rooms that would lead him to freedom. He was trapped like a rat.


Running his hands through his hair, Vincent began to kick against the wall. "Damn! Damn!" If there weren't any doors, he could probably make one by the time Emilia walked in, considering he was on his way to putting a hole in the room...


@Darth Pai
 
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"Criminal! Kidnapper!" Pointing a finger at Emilia's shocked face, Vincent seemed to be raging with anger. The feeling was soon confirmed when he slammed the door in Emilia's face.


It was only a few seconds ago when Emilia was patiently waiting for Vincent to open the door, holding two mugs in her hands, taking a sip from her own mug every few moments. When Vincent opened the door, Emilia beamed brightly at the slightly smaller boy, not saying a word. He seemed to stare at her for awhile, taking his time processing all the new information in his head.


Blinking a few times, Vincent's eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened with realization. Yelling two words at the rather dumbfounded Emilia, Vincent quickly slammed the door shut, blocking Emilia out of the room.


Emilia stood there, her mouth slightly open like a dead fish. The young lady was still holding the two mugs in her hands, just trying to take in what had just happened. Emilia didn't know whether to be offended, hurt, or slightly amused. Vincent's unpredicted reaction was just so...comical.


Pursing her lips together to keep herself from laughing, Emilia's laughter came out in large fits as she did her best to contain herself. Knowing that it was not proper to laugh at such accusations, Emilia bit down on her lower lip to calm herself down.


Shaking her head, Emilia caught the freaked out look that Hannah was sending her and gave the gesture that everything was fine. Emilia guessed that the idea that she had supposedly kidnapprd Vincent was plausible in his point of view. After all, he had woken up in an unknown room with absolutely no knowledge on how he got there. However, Emilia did wish that Vincent would understand that this is what happened after the Love Harvest. The two partners were supposed to live under the same roof. It was a law.


Using her elbow to skillfully twist the doorknob and open the door, Emilia heard the soft click of the door opening and stepped back. Straightenimg her posture, Emilia turned to the side and used her hip to bump the door open softly and walk in, still holding the mugs.


Setting Vincent's tea on the dresser, Emilia wrapped her fingers around her own mug and brought it up to her lips to take a sip. Well, at least he hadn't jumped out of the window and climbed the wall. Emilia would think that jumping from the third story would have the consequences of injuries, perhaps death.


Observing as Vincent violently kicked the walls, Emilia brought the cup away from her mouth and frowned ever so slightly. "Are you alright, Vincent?" Concern for the young man's mental wellbeing laced Emilia's words as she furrowed her eyebrows together in frustration.


Glancing over at the untouched cup of tea on the dresser, Emilia sighed and hoped that Vincent would drink the warm liquid before it became cold. It would be such a shame to waste a good cup of tea like that. Even if it wasn't his "cup of tea".


Somewhat afraid to approach Vincent directly, Emilia made her way over to the bed with lavender sheets and sat down on it. Flinching at each harsh sound that came from the impact between the wall and Vincent's foot, Emilia clenched her teeth together and tightly gripped her mug.


"Hey, why don't you calm down a little and we can talk about it?" Emilia wasn't exactly sure what "it" was but she didn't want Vincent to be so stressed out like that. Placing the cup of tea on her lap and wrapping her right hand's fingers around then handle, Emilia frowned at Vincent. If she was going to spend so much time around this man, Emilia would find herself frowning much more often than usual.


Them again, she's been smiling quite an awful bit today.


@Lucem Tenebris
 
As he continued his assault on the innocent wall, Vincent could hardly hear Emilia open the door over the loud thuds and use of profanity. Usually, Vincent took his anger out on other human beings, but he had just as much experience against inanimate objects. He constantly made contributions to the destruction found back in his sector.


Even when she made her presence known by walking in, mugs of tea in hand, he refused to look in her direction. He was furious right now, to quite a degree in fact. However, he wouldn't hurt her. Vincent refused to ever lay his hands on a woman. He found the act vile, despite the things he's done. However, while he couldn't hurt her, he could ignore her. In the meantime, he would take out his rage on the wall, which was currently being chipped away at.


Catching her words over the destruction he was causing, Vincent could feel his blood vessels slowly starting to pop. 'Am I alright? Of course I'm not! Who the Hell would be!?' While he did decide to ignore her, that wouldn't stop him from ranting in his mind.


However he may have tried to deny her very existence in the room, he would find it difficult as she continued to speak. Vincent didn't take well to many comments that were deemed unpleasant when he was angry. Going by that, he didn't take well to comments ever.


With one last hard kick to the wall, a hole managing to form at last, Vincent quickly turned around. "Calm down!? Who could calm down in this situation!?" It seemed as though he had abandoned keeping his thoughts to himself now that she had gotten his attention.


Pacing around the room, taking glances at Emilia as he continuously ran his hands through his hair, surprisingly not tearing any out, Vincent continued to yell. "Not only was I taken away against my will, I was taken here of all places! The Upper Class districts! Not to mention that I've already been through a living Hell today!" Vincent didn't belong here and he had no desire to be here. The times he had almost gotten caught for stealing here, coupled by the attitudes the residents had towards those of a lower social standing, brought some unpleasant feelings.


Still angry, Vincent returned to his wall, starting with a blank canvas. Resuming his kicking, Vincent gritted his teeth and returned to his colorful use of the English language. "Damn! Damn!"


@Darth Pai
 
Setting her mug down on the glass nightstand next to the bed, Emilia took a deep breath in as she stood up from the bed. Turning away from Vincent, Emilia rubbed her eyes for they were beginning to tear up. Emilia was never one to handle yelling, or loud and stressful noises in that matter. For the the most recent part of her life, Emilia had become used to the sound of silence. In fact, she was used to it her whole existence.


However, sometimes Emilia began to cry when she didn't want to cry. She didn't need the day that she had waited for for her entire life to be ended with tears and a whole in the wall. Emilia had already discarded all of her dreams and hopes of her partner, it was clear that he didn't want to be where he was.


But, what pained Emilia was that she could do nothing about it. Even with connections with the government Emilia had through her father, neither Mr. Jarvis or Emilia could interfere with the supercomputer and the Love Harvest. Especially after the matches had been finalized.


Once Emilia had taken control of her emotions once more, she peeked over her shoulder to find Vincent's slamming his foot against the wall and yelling out words that weren't used very often around Emilia. She was never one who spoke profanity but Emilia could understand why Vincent was so stressed. She never wanted for anyone to be so "pissed off" because of her.


It was understandable. Perhaps Vincent had other plans and being matched with a woman from the Upper Class interfered with them? Emilia just didn't know what to do in this sort or situation. If Vincent had plans then maybe Emilia could help? Then again, she doubted Vincent would ever allow her in on his "plans". After her demostration on how to open a door, Emilia was sure that Vincent only saw her as a burden.


Standing up, Emilia walked over to the dresser and picked the cup of tea up in her hands. With the sudden defiant thought of pouring the warm liquid on Vincent's head in hopes of cooling his hot head down, Emilia frowned since she knew that would not work. In fact, it would probably anger the young man even more. But, Emilia couldn't just allow Vincent to continue kicking the wall and mutter profanity under his breath.


Glancing over at Vincent, Emilia sighed softly and walked over to him, her footsteps as light as a feather. Standing over to the side of Vincent, Emilia leaned her shoulder against the wall and stared at Vincent. Emilia could feel the vibrations when pressed against the wall. Every kick of Vincent's leg and the collision between his foot and the wall caused the wall to vibrate.


"I'm sorry that you're not happy to be here." Emilia muttered softly, her gaze was directed straight into Vincent's eyes. However, a few seconds passed and Emilia pulled her stare away and completely turned her body to lean back against the wall of the bedroom. "I'm also sorry that I can't do anything about it."


Staring across the room at the blue and white patterned lamp, Emilia stretched the fingers of the hand that wasn't holding the mug and pursed her lips. "But kicking the wall or swearing won't do anything. Tea?" Holding the mug of tea out for Vincent to take it, Emilia glanced back at Vincent, waiting for what he would say.


@Lucem Tenebris
 
Flynn had slowed down as he continued the search for the partner chosen for him, they seemed to be very close now and he didn't want to move past them in the bustling crowds. As he turned around his collar seemed make a long monotone beep as did the collar on the woman in front of him. Flynn thought she seemed nice enough. The bright pink hair was certainly interesting but Flynn wasn't sure if that was natural or dyed to be that colour. Flynn assumed the latter.


"Um...hey Samantha. My name's Flynn. Flynn Woods." Flynn replied. Needless to say he felt quite nervous. Most likely because he finally met the woman he was meant to spend the rest of his life with. Despite that though he was happy, she seemed like quite a nice person. Maybe a bit too exuberant but Flynn didn't mind that. She was quite attractive as well. Flynn thought her green eyes were beautiful. Then something else of the same colour caught his eye. He looked to her collar and saw the small growing green light on it. He kept his excitement hidden. Flynn couldn't wait for his dad to found out she was middle class. He could imagine it now and Flynn would be laughing the whole time. Flynn looked around and saw the area which they had to go next. It was still busy but a lot of people had already left with their matches.


"I think we're to go there next." Flynn said as he pointed towards the desk all the other pairs where going to. He couldn't wait to finally get his collar off. It was so tight it felt like it had merged with his skin.


@Auren
 
Vincent's second attempt at destroying the wall was interrupted when the object of his frustration came near. Prepared to keep yelling, Vincent was caught of guard a bit when he turned his head. She was right next to him, staring right into his eyes.


The close-up view quickly made him uncomfortable. Vincent didn't exactly spend a lot of time having extended eye contact with others. The farthest he had ever gotten was gripping someone close before tossing them to the floor. However, it wasn't just the eye contact itself that made him uncomfortable. In the corners of her eyes, Vincent thought he could see slight signs of wetness.


It wasn't hard to believe that Vincent didn't spend much time around women, the majority of people he came across being male. So, the thought of a woman crying made him uncomfortable. Crying was for the weak and it was a sign of vulnerability. It didn't help that such vulnerability brought along unpleasant memories that he would rather not think about.


When she finally pulled her gaze away, the uncomfortable feeling still lingered. She was still near him and the mere sound of her voice put him off, even more so than earlier. It was a very unpleasant experience of him.


Fighting off some of the instincts that he'd rather not have, having attempted to bury them for years, Vincent tried to shut her out. However, as she continued into an apology, it became harder. This girl had been nothing but trouble all day, as far as he was concerned.


When she looked at him once more, it became too much. Now being able to confirm that there were signs that tears had been present at some point or another, Vincent was unable to take it any longer. She was really getting on his nerves now. If there was a window nearby, he'd gladly be jumping out of it right now.


Stopping his assault on the wall, Vincent quickly grabbed the mug out of the young woman's hand. "Fine, I get it! Just stop already!" If this would get her to shut up, then he would drink the tea. "This better not be poisoned or anything!"


Lifting the mug up to his lips, Vincent practically poured the liquid down his throat. He wanted to get this over with as fast as possible, but he probably should've paced himself a bit more instead of emptying the mug's contents in one go. As the warm liquid poured down his throat, he found the taste to be unsatisfying, to say the least.


As soon as it hit his tongue, Vincent had almost retched. The beverage was one of the worst things he had ever tasted and he had tasted his share of disgusting things. It was far too sweet for his tastes, but it was bitter at the same time. It was an indescribable taste, but if he had to try, "awful" seemed to fit best. The foreign ingredients were much too different from his usual intake of bland tasting food.


"What the Hell is in this stuff!?" Vincent could have been a bit more discreet in showing his displeasure with the drink, but he was never discreet with anything he did. The way he acted was like having his thoughts broadcasted through a bullhorn. He was very blunt with his opinions.


Making sure his taste buds were vacant of the awful taste, Vincent set the mug on the ground. When he rose, he looked around the room once more. There really was no way to escape without being seen at the moment. If he left now, the result wouldn't be very good. A bullet in the back of the skull didn't seem like something he needed right now.


Turning towards Emilia, obviously still displeased, Vincent decided to move things along. The longer he was able to keep things progressing, he would have a better chance of finding a way to escape without being detected. "So, where am I exactly? This is your place, right?"


@Darth Pai
 
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Hans Grøngaard @Syrenrei


Exchanging names went smoothly as they shook hands, her skins softness contrasted by the rough paws of his own. Hans had started noticing the small details of her being, the suits stuck to ones curves like no tomorrow but they did the utmost job of hiding anything beyond that. The collar around her neck was shining with a calm sterile blue the same blue Fredericia wore on their first meeting.


Meeting her for the first time was a pretty rough situatuin to be put into as an eighteen year old lad. A beautiful young girl with long blond hair was now his wife, certainly something so special isn't something a man should get for free. Once again Hans was in the same situation. Before him stood a woman his own age, no imperfections, nearly the complete opposite of himself.


Hans' smile broadened as she fired off some jokes to tastefully lighten the mood. "Skye it is then, I do have to agree that it'd be rather awkward meeting getting matched with someone 5 years younger than ones self." Hans said trying to bring forth his age without being blunt and boring. Social conduct wasn't something he had much experiance in, unless taking orders and making bad jokes in the military counts. "So, what do ya' say? How about we head over and get ourselves signed out." Hans said as he looked around the room and out the windows, spotting several personel. The military oversaw the whole operation, either to enforce the Love Harvest or to tread in if something were to go haywire. Hans started walking backwards towards the registration center, trying to keep eye contact with Skyes brown eyes. "Not that they'd pester us with such a flamboyant color around my neck." Hans smiled as he flicked the collar causing him to flinch as it sent a small jolt of electricty into his neck.
 
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Takeshi walked in the opposite direction, unsure of whether she would actually show up. Would she? Their first encounter was rather bittersweet; her laughter acquired by his conversational faux pas was both embarrassing and rewarding. He was completely mortified of it, but still he felt accomplished at the same time.


His first impression of her was more or less of curiosity. This woman, with the cosmic name, whose skin was bronzed and flawless save for one or two bruises he didn't make importance of, seemed detached from the Love Harvest process, like she had gone through this exact process twice or thrice before. How many did she meet before him? She looked older than him but not by much. She couldn't have gone through that many Harvests, unless.. What if she was a secretly a cold-blooded serial killer who would charm the pants off of her Love Harvest matches only to drug him with a highly intoxicating Fig Newton, strangle him using an unusually long string of lint, and cut him up into properly proportioned human filets to sell on the cannibalistic black market for profit?


The prime example of her murderous skill set: her expertise of leaving the dead of night in the dead of night.. Takeshi caught himself before he began creating more imaginative situations but he had already scared himself.


However, the more he thought about her, the more she developed into this mysterious Rubik's Cube of a woman. The possibilities of her nature extended into the infinity and it was his duty, duly appointed by the government, to discover it.


He couldn't tell yet if they would meet again, or if she wanted to for that matter. Takeshi would have wait and see.


---


After just under ten minutes of walking, he was close. Crossing the street, he saw his humble abode: a simple three bedroom, two bathroom Tudor. It stood adjacent to a construction site that seemed to never get finished. Takeshi entered his house with a simple metal key instead of the finger print holographic GeneLock™ system that his part of the neighborhood had already implemented. It was a gift from some random politician to his area, definitely part of a campaign of getting votes and ultimately, a higher up position in the government Takeshi had no care for. In the neighborhood to some, it was a luxury to have such advanced security and they accepted it happily.


He entered the house and closed the door behind him with a kick. In his room, he got out of his parachute pants, remembering to keep them next to his suspenders, after a minute of thoughtful consideration, for 'safekeeping'.


Kyoko wasn't home. These days she tended to come back in the wee hours of the early morning but he already knew that. He tried his best to talk to her during the rare occurrences they saw each other but she was far more adept at avoiding him. When she was sure Takeshi was sleeping, Kyoko would sneak in, sleep for a few hours and then sneak back out before he woke up again.


Takeshi peeked into her room, knowing she wouldn't be there. Alas he found her room empty. Like a crime scene, everything had been where it was for the past week, seemingly untouched. Takeshi noticed though each day though for it to be a little bit more messier, her bed a little bit off the side, or the window slightly cracked open; a tiny breeze whispering in his ear, taunting him.


He could remember the argument they had, just seven days ago, in that same room. Takeshi didn't like her crowd, but it didn't matter to Kyoko. They weren't 'his friends' anyway.


"It's not your fight, Kyoko!"


"It's not your life!"


"But I'm responsible for yours! I can't have you running around God knows where, doing God knows what. You have too much freedom."


"Then, what freedom do I have living the life the government has given me? It's no different!"


"This freedom you're fighting for is gonna kill you."


"Yeah, well, at least I'm making a name for this family."


Takeshi winced as if she had poured poured salt on his wounds. It was only a memory, but the cutting words felt fresh and deep. They had not spoken since. Takeshi shook his head and left her room, disappointed by Kyoko but more so in himself. What older brother let his sibling join a rebellious movement, whose purpose meant lots of trouble in a time when a little bit of trouble could mean death.


Takeshi stepped into the shower while listening to the radio, singing whatever happened to be on. After drying himself and stepping out of the shower, he headed to his room and changed into his more casual clothes: khakis, a white polo, and a black jacket. It wasn't 20 minutes before he had completed his departing ritual, which was slipping on his shoes, lightly kissing his fingers, touching them to his mother's portrait on the shelf, and locking the door behind him.


A few minutes later, he arrived downtown at the Iron Maiden.


@Agent Nine


((I really suck at posting haha! Btw, what is your time zone?))
 
Skye Yoona Park





He was nicer than she expected. There was a kindness that reached from beyond just his voice, seeping into his gaze that watched her so gently. They were devoid of any criticism or disappointment in her person. Government was all-powerful in the community and could eradicate dissidents, but it could never force compelling emotions on the residents. The rebels held themselves with a bitter rigidity, the arrogant still spoke with condescending voices and stepped on all those beneath them, and the complacent still wandered with vapid expressions and slouched shoulders of indifference. Oh how would other eligible women bemoan their fate not to be placed with this bachelor. Kindness and courteousness made up the dreams of the hopeful. Added to his musculature and height, there no obvious flaws to be found.


How unfortunate for he that had had been given "damaged goods" as one of her friends so delicately put it. It had not been said out of malice, of course, but remained painfully accurate. Even with James pushed out of her mind, she had persevering need to maintain emotional distance to keep herself from being similarly injured. His obvious nice attitude was a threat to this dedication of separation. Still, Skye could only assume he'd prefer not to have this challenge. So much would be wasted on battling down her walls built on years of grief and detachment. Was he not better suited for someone who could fully appreciate his virtues immediately?


There was no sense in pondering the supercomputer's choices. Skye and Hans were joined together before either knew it and there was no entity alive that would rend it asunder now. Determined to make the best of it and yet not make herself vulnerable, the good-natured witty comments were well-received. Continuing on a trend that had yet to fail her, she smiled slightly at his quips. "Lead the way to the registration, then," she remarked with a gesture. Men traditionally liked to lead, although she wasn't sure if this held true with Hans. Had he joined because of a need to have orders to follow or was he of a higher position that commanded?


"I am sure that's the reason for the color- the first adjective that comes to mind for the military is flamboyant. I will be quite disappointed, though, if that is your only method of defending yourself. Don't those guns of yours atrophy if they don't get some use?" It was another joke, of course, making gentle fun of one of his more obvious attractive signs of masculinity. "Don't worry though. I have very tepid determination to keep pursuing my law degree and if there is one thing they emphasize, it is speaking at great length and with such pretentious words that no one will want to pester you." It was slightly self-depreciating for their first meeting, but Skye had not escaped despair unscathed. Her haughty teenage years were a thing of the past. Oh, how the Nitrum Virus humbled! How loss could transform!


Long lashes fluttered as she looked around at the way the others reacted to their coupling. Most of them were younger as it was not terribly common to be widowed and added to the pool a second time. The supercomputer knew it was in the best interests of humanity to match them as quickly as possible to make the most out of the fertile years; progeny must increase and thrive. Anxiety and relief washed over visages in equal measure; smiles and barely contained frowns; excitement and discontent. It was hard to stand out in a sea of beauty, but some clearly didn't find value in exterior quality in their mates, and some were displeased with the status change.


Speaking of- would she move to military quarters or he to the Upper Class district? It had been an easy choice with James as they were both of brilliant blue lineage. Once they had some comfort with each other they had jointly chosen a luxurious apartment for themselves- the same at which Skye resided. The Love Harvest demanded immediate housing with one another, though, and she did not think they could spring for something new with joint decisions quite so easily. For now one of their accommodations would have to hold them both. "I was not expecting to be matched after three years of none, so I must shamefully admit I didn't pack a single thing. Truthfully, I'm not even sure where I have stored my suitcases." She was one of the (far too few) Upper Class citizens who did not have a need for servants. While her parents employed several, she enjoyed being able to do things for herself. There was a certain strange satisfaction of not needing assistance from others- and she did not want the Lower Class waiting on her hand and foot. They did not deserve such degrading jobs. Perhaps if she had a child in the future and seriously pursued law, she would ask one to help in a governess or nanny capacity. No one had ever said Skye was an excessively patient woman.


@Hanzax
 
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((Pssssh, don't say thaaat. Annnnd I'm in eastern standard time. I live in NY. c:


Also, sorry 'bout the lateness; I was out all afternoon.))


The walk home was a strange one, thus dubbed "thinking time" by Novi around five minutes in. All in all, it took a little over eight for her to reach the familiar block; a quaint, quiet street full of houses that seemed to tilt a little with the sloped ground, facing a railing. The man-made river that stretched for miles beneath the railing, and the street itself, was seen as ugly by most, but Novi happened to like it. It added a unique sort of touch to the area. On particularly boring days, the young woman liked to stare out at the great waterway and think. About what, it never really mattered; it was just nice to have a place to lurk around in that didn't have to be miles and miles from her house.


Novi walked alongside the railing, trailing her fingers across the tarnished metal as she looked out at the river. It was flowing, as usual, though the water still managed to look still and a bit murky. At the far end of it all stood an archway, a black, gaping maw in which the water itself vanished into. That could be sewage down there for all I know, or maybe an irrigation system for the city's water supply...hell, they could be the same.


Once she'd turned and gotten to her house, Novi opened the door and slipped inside. The house seemed to be quiet; Aurie had probably gone out shopping for food or...whatever else the old woman did when she was alone.


Good. No stupid questions, then. No distractions.


Novi made her way towards the bathroom at the far end of the hall. It was an impulse; this was the first time in a while that she'd been around so many people at once, and leaving that hall had made her feel uncomfortably sticky. Now she'd have to wash the scent of all of those bozos off of her skin. She peeled the government-issued clothes off and tossed them in a pile in the corner, then stepped in to the shower and cleaned herself up. Afterwards, Novi went into her room and pulled on some clothes; a pair of denim jeans, a white t-shirt, and her brown leather jacket. Comfortable stuff, plus the sneakers she always wore.


It wasn't until she'd walked back down that hallway and passed through the living room that she wondered just what the hell she was doing.


Gradually slowing, Novi came to a stop by the couch, her gaze falling to the floor.


So, she was headed out. That was a first. With another person, of all things. ...Also a first. And up until now, she hadn't really thought much of it.


Up until now, it hadn't been a problem.


Of course, the best way to create a problem was to think about one.


Sh**...


Problems, problems, why was it a problem? This was how this sort of thing was supposed to go, right? She'd been matched, for once, and the guy wasn't a jerk or an egomaniac or...or Macho Man Randy Savage reborn. He was kind of a dope, but...nice, which outweighed the bad ten times over. Sure, there was such a thing as being too nice, but for now...nice was nice. She could deal with nice.


Dammit, you coward. Get your butt out this door before Aurie gets back and wants to talk.


Novi let out a grunt, shaking her head a little before trudging back to the front door and walking out.


It's just lunch. If things go south, you leave.





Around ten minutes later, the Iron Maiden's (somewhat tacky) sign was in view. Keeping her pace reasonable, her mind having calmed some, though still full of questions, Novi let herself inside. She didn't go much further than the entrance, though, peering inside to look for Takeshi's brown head of hair, her own hair still wet, a few strands plastered to her cheeks.


Alright, where are you, Waldo...


@CommodoreOlaf

 
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@X07


The minute Xavier spoke to her Sandra jumped up and began to look around like a cornered animal. She had been so wrapped up in trying to calm herself down she had not even seen him standing in front of her.



"Eh? Oh... uhm my name is Sandra." She thinks for a moment before remembering that she should probably introduce herself more fully to her future husband. "Sandra Taylor in fact. I... I suppose we should get the formalities out of the way at least. As for eating somewhere, do you know of a place nearby that has a really good rating according to those safety commissions. You can get sick eating at the places that don't rank high enough." She begins to stand up but keeps her arms close to herself and stays at least three feet away from Xavier. "You look healthy at least. I was so sure I would be paired up with someone teaming with disease. I just knew it." It would seem Sandra can not exactly keep her nerves under control in this situation.


'Please let him keep his hands to himself. At least there is no longer a kiss the bride moment anymore.'
 
@Ebonysdagger


Great, just great. Xavier thought to himself as the young woman began to show concern over germs and disease. Of all the women in the city, I get the one with germaphobia. He put his hand down and placed it on his hip as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, from what I can tell, you're from the lower class sector, just like me. I think you already know the answer to your 'health safety' question. But, I think I might be getting ahead of myself here, we should just get the registration out of the way now, then we can discuss living arrangements and everything over dinner. I also recommend you call your family afterwards, since, you know, we just got engaged afterall." he said as he tried to put on a smile. It was harder than it looked, this was going to be a trial, but he'd be damned if he let this situation get to him.


"Well, let's get on our way." Xavier said as he started to lead Sandra to the registration office. Hopefully she wouldn't be too nervous to touch a pen to paper. He stayed silent while they walked over to the office, giving Sandra a chance to speak. The next few moments turned into a blur for Xavier, as if he was on automatic pilot for the last while. Before he knew it he was in front of the administration building in his regular clothes, waiting for his new fiance to join him. "Well," he said aloud to himself, "At least mom will be happy about this."
 
Hans Grøngaard @Syrenrei


As Skye agreeded to him leading their way on their adventure he spun back aroung and forged ahead towards registration center. There was always a small part of him that feared being hated by the those around for having joined and serving in the military. To a degree it was only to be expected, the government certainly does feel a bit like a heavy handed tyrant at times. A government with great control and power makes it very easy to push new things forward, be they better or for worse. It would be near impossible to imagine a man who wants only the best for the whole of the community knowing that whatever one does there's always someone that disagrees with you.


Pushing through the white-clad crowd was a not a simple task. Walking around couples bickering back and forth, slipping past stray souls searching despiratly for the one and only true love and dodging those with their soul mate insight and feverishly running for it before it escapes them. Every other second he'd quickly peak back to make sure Skye was keeping up and more importantly not getting stampede by the other lottery contestents.


"I may be an the odd-ball of my comrades on the military, but getting close and intimate with those I meet is usually a top priority." He said, continuing the spree of their witty jokes. "I've found that talking to people, instead of pointing guns at them, tends to them not wanting to hit you over the head with a pipe." Hans said trying to ease that tiny fear inside of him that, deep down, Skye actually feared him for being in the military.


As Hans was slightly taller than the soon-to-weds around him it was possible to see the sea of white starting breaking up and their escape was nearly at hand. This is when the she asked who's house they would live in. His home wasn't something of much use to him anyway, it was just a cruel reminder that one year ago he had lost the three things most dear to him. Filling his mind with the duties in the military was possibly the one thing that kept him from entering a state of depression.


"Well, it'd be unjust to bring a beautiful lady such as ourself out of their home." He said as he smilled at his own cheesiness. "To be honest, I didn't expect returning to this event either, there's nothing really waiting for me at home so I've got nothing to leave behind." He said, as the crowd had finally broken and there was a clear shot to the registration stand. He slowed down his pace and took a step to the side so that he was equal with his partner.
 
Emilia’s heart almost stopped when Vincent had stopped kicking the wall, the steady beat of the kicking was beginning to match with her own heartbeat. Even if she could feel the vibrations through the wall, Emilia hoped that the dent, or hole, would be easy to fix. After all, this room was one of her favourite rooms due to the lavender coloured bed sheets.


Every other room was strictly coloured different shades of blue and white. Sometimes silver and gold would complement the room with small and intricate details like in the light bulbs or the feet of the dresser. The colours were, still, blue and white, no matter how Emilia asked to change them.


Vincent snatched the cup of tea out of Emilia’s hands, the warmth of the mug continued to linger in her palms and fingers. “Fine, I get it! Just stop already!” Emilia’s lips parted slightly, her eyes widening in shock from the sudden movement. She heard him grumble about the drink being poisoned and almost smiled from the idea.


Why would she poison him? To get a new partner? Emilia mentally laughed at the suggestion and smiled softly as she watched Vincent raise the mug to his lips. She wondered if he would like the taste of cinnamon and apple. The two flavours complimented each other perfectly, similar to that of the oatmeal with cinnamon and apple slices. Emilia hadn’t chosen the tea flavours but she trusted in the older woman’s decision about the tea.


Emilia’s jaw dropped in shock when she watched Vincent down the warm liquid in one go. Many Upper Class, sometimes Middle Class, citizens had come to her home, courtesy of her father. They were almost always served tea, coffee, or water. Emilia had watched many people drink tea but, not like Vincent drank tea.


A disgusted expression spread across Vincent’s face as he looked as if he was going to puke. Emilia gasped and felt as if a rock had sunk to the bottom of her stomach. “What the Hell is in this stuff!?” Vincent set the cup on the ground and glanced around the room, disgust continued to remain on his face.


Emilia reached down and picked the mug up in her hands and turned around to set it on the white glass desk. Smiling apologetically, Emilia twiddled her thumbs and wished that she could shrink to the size that was alike of that to a mouse and hide in a hole.


It’s called tea,” Emilia glanced over at Vincent, who seemed to be exploring the room with his eyes. Emilia wondered what was so interesting about the blue and white, and the lavender bed sheets, guestroom. It was very boring if you ignored the colour pop of the bed sheets. “It’s made by boiling crushed leaves in water.


Once, when Emilia was younger, she tried to make tea by crushing rose petals and then boiling them in hot water to make tea. Rose tea to be exact, but Emilia wasn’t aware of that. Not many people were pleased with the young girl. Not the gardeners, not her mother, even Carmen gave Emilia a displeased look. The little girl had entered the house with cuts all over her arms and hands from picking the roses and getting pricked by the thorns.


So, where am I exactly?” Vincent’s voice quickly brought Emilia out of her thoughts, her expression slightly dazed. She seemed to have been staring blankly at nothing in particular. Her vision had faded blurred slightly during the time she was occupied in her thoughts and her whole body was still the whole time.


Emilia’s first reaction was to smile like the perfect Upper Class girl she was, straightening her posture, folding her hands in front of her and stretching the corners of her lips to smile. A moment later, Emilia processed Vincent’s question in her head, her rather doll-like simper was replaced by a genuine little grin.


Ah,” Emilia held back a laugh at her own late reaction, rolling her shoulders to subtly curve and stretch her back. “Yes, you’re in Sector B at the moment.” An embarrassed blush of pink dusted across Emilia’s cheeks as she took a step forward and away from Vincent to give both of them some space. Emilia mentally scolded herself for dazing off in her thoughts.


Unaware about how Vincent would react to the information, Emilia simply smiled like she always did. “Would you like…a tour?” To be honest, Emilia wasn’t the best when giving tours, not many people had come to the Jarvis household ever since Joshua died in the accident. Her father would always go to meetings outside of the house and almost never brought people home. Not that Emilia was complaining. She simply found it more entertaining to explore the large building by herself from her own experience.


"Oh! You must be hungry, would you like something to eat?" Doing her best to be a good host, Emilia's eyes widened with realization. Of course he was hungry! Who wasn't? Wanting to hit herself for not thinking about it earlier, Emilia sheepishly beamed at Vincent, resisting the need to play with her hair as a nervous reaction.


@Lucem Tenebris
 
@X07


Sandra nods at the man's prompt to get this over and done with. "Unfortunately I do know how hard it is to find a good clean place to eat. " She mentions absently trying to distract herself from having to use the same pen as who knew how many other people. When they were allowed to go and change back into their clothes she stopped to scrub her hand thoroughly, enough so that she might be confused for a surgeon about to carry out an operation. Unfortunately thanks to this she forgot to stuff that nice white suit somewhere in her things so as to make off with it.


After waiting until she was sure not too many others were in the hallways she stepped out to find her mate. She pondered if he had ever thought to question if this system is not just one giant experiment. 'Oh well, no helping it if he doesn't.' She steps out and near to Xavier when she spots him still maintaining her three feet of distance. "I'm done. So what now?"
 
Skye Yoona Park


Skye quietly marveled how most people parted, sliding out of the way when presented with someone simply larger than they were. It almost certainly helped that he had a military marking on his collar. His stature was not exactly intimidating but it had a certain respectable presence that she couldn't quite place. Authoritative? Confident? The gaps closed behind him with varying speed but the slender and agile female was still able to better navigate with his lead. It was clear he was slightly concerned that this same disparity between their sizes and physical prowess might put her ill at ease. It was quite the opposite- Skye inherently trusted that he would protect her if not as a servant of the government than as her husband. The only true brutality she had been exposed to was that of the merciless virus that assaulted without bias or hatred. It was comforting to know someone who had strengths you did not was now obligated into a role of guardian.


It was the assurances he preferred to talk to people and become 'intimate' with them that put her slightly ill at ease. Careful to hide the anxiety that flourished within, she knew he wasn't talking of intercourse or anything nearly so vulgar. He was a man who related to others, formed relationships, and cared possibly more than she ought to. Skye was also empathetic and understanding since her loss of James, but she was terrified of forming a connection that would leave her in shambles again. Her help was only given when she felt sufficiently secured and not threatened by responsibility or expectation. Quietly she knew herself to be a coward even if it was rather justified. Hans would be thoughtful, patient, and sympathetic to her plight no doubt- and she was not sure she could extend the same feelings as quickly as he offered them. Perhaps she would never be ready to. Skye both reveled in and despised her melancholy all at once.


As they broke through the crowd and she was standing beside him she felt foolish. A myriad of human emotions surged behind her, roaring with excitement and irritation in nearly equal measure, and she was still. Afraid to get attached and vulnerable. Was this what the years were meant to do to her? Color her with fear? What set her apart from the simpering teenagers that lamented their lack of control over their lives. Skye tried to focus on the immediate issues at hand: their domicile and registration. "If you don't mind announcing our names- unless you want me to mangle yours," she recovered, adding a grin.


"If the military allows it, I live in the Upper Class Sector. In the interest of full disclosure, I've been wed before so my apartment is large enough for both of us... but I don't have servants like some of the rest do. I could hire attendants if there is something that you think might merit it. Do you want me to help you pack? My day is completely free- they surprisingly do not expect me to attend classes on the day of my wedding. It is unusually generous of them, I assure you." More snarky wit to cut through the tension that was building beneath her ribcage. She had been fearful she would be forced out of her home and totally displaced, but Hans had been generous once more. It would be a struggle to see James 'replaced' in a sense but she was soothed by the fact she could retain more of what was 'hers.' Not everything would be forfeited. The familiarity of the walls, furniture, and arrangements would give her comfort during trying times.
 

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