057 ☣ But now am found

[fridgetothefire]

[She feels brittle and stretched, like an old rubber band, achy and shocky. The world isn't quite steady. She blinks open tacky eyelids, sees blue sky instead of read cape, then closes them again, takes carefully counted breaths, tries to center herself in her body until the static clears. She sits up, and realizes dimly that the world really isn't steady. She's in a little motorboat on a charming neighborhood canal of some sort, rocking lightly with the shallow waves. The position of the sun suggests it's afternoon. She doesn't have a hangover but she still feels strange, unreal and full of echoes. Her back aches where she was laying on something - her communicator. Her breath whooshes out as memory rushes in, and she swallows several times, picks it up with hands that shake only slightly.]


[Public, video]

[Anya has messy hair and a drawn expression, carefully tamping down on hope and fear alike.]

...hello, this is Anya, can anyone hear this?



[Private to the Admiral, a little later]

Give me an expanded storage room off the maintenance office and I'll be able to stock up better.

Comments

[fridgetothefire]

Yeah. That's. That's probably best.

[Just in case, somehow. In case she slips through cracks in the universe again, in case they are in different Amsterdams, somehow, in case nothing, just so she can hear him breathing.]

[with_my_teacup]

[Riddick runs, when he has to, in the same grim un-winded lightly-sweating miles-on-end way that most humans jog. He's not at a sprint-- he's afraid he'll miss her in the city if he's too focused on speed--but he's moving fast enough to get a few puzzles looks. Attention is a small price to pay right now.

When he sees her--finally, just a flash of her face in a crowd but he knows it like some animals can pick out their young in a sea of other young.]

Anya, I'm on your three, standing under a striped overhang--barber shop, sign's in Dutch.

[fridgetothefire]

[And then she's there, throwing herself onto him for a hug, and she can't shake if she's holding on too tight to move.]

[with_my_teacup]

[He hugs her like he's trying to wrap his body around her, armor her up with his muscle and bone. He presses his cheek to hers, gets her scent, feels her breathe and her heart beating. He doesn't say any of it, how he was afraid he'd lost her where she couldn't be gotten back, that somehow she'd been consumed like the other barge, something -- that she was gone in a way that left no room for her to be brilliant, a schemer, a survivor .]

[fridgetothefire]

[She clings and clings, still disoriented, it seems impossible that everything happened and she missed it, impossible that they are still fractured, chasing the lost. She is still chasing the lost. She breathes, the not-quite human feline clean of him, lets the warmth press into her bones, until her calves start to ache where she's on tiptoe just a bit, and then a little longer than that.]

[with_my_teacup]

[He stands like that, unmoving and pretty much immobile, for long minutes.]

Okay.

Okay.

Let's get you something to eat. Fix up the blood sugar. I'll catch you up on the details.

[fridgetothefire]

[She - nuzzles him, one more time, the refuge of him, then settles side by side, leaning in a little, takes his hand. Tactically sub-optimal, maybe, but they both have easy knife draws with their free hands, and not getting separated is also a strategic concern. She doesn't want to let go.]

Thanks, mom.

[Deliberate, this time, and there's an edge which might let someone overhearing think she was being sarcastic, but only if they didn't know her at all, couldn't see the seriousness and gratitude in her eyes. She said once, long ago, that he made her feel that way, warm and small and home and safe, and it's still true, so she says it deliberately this time, settles in and tugs it around them both like a blanket.]

Sounds perfect.

[with_my_teacup]

My baby.

[She knows. But he murmurs the words, private, and touches his forehead to hers before she falls beside him. He squeezes her hand before the bad news-]

Ben's still missing. Strategy after food.

[fridgetothefire]

[A heavy breath. But he's got her tight, and she keeps walking. She's back. Food. Strategy.]

Alright. Alright.