Ragnarok Revisited: Morning Hangover

[Guest CaroMW]

Alix stretched as she inched over to the edge of the bed, trying not to wake Rooslan. She pulled on her robe as she tip toed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She opened the icebox and stared at its contents.

She was hungry, but nothing looked good. She could make something, but she wasn’t that hungry. There had to be something she could eat that wouldn’t take a lot to make and wouldn’t require dirtying a dish to eat.

She closed the icebox and migrated to the cupboards, trying to be as quiet as possible. Finally, she settled on some left over bread. She headed back to the bedroom while eating on the piece of bread and laid on the bed, waiting for him to wake up.

[Guest Militant Soldier]

Rooslan had rolled over and nearly fallen out of the bed before he remembered where he was. Then the memories, the sensations that had overwhelmed him last night; washing back through his mind, causing him to shudder. He turned to look at Alix, wondering exactly what he’d done. Well he knew what he’d done, but he didn’t know if she’d been a willing participant, or if he’d forced himself on her while caught up in that monumental wave of emotion.

Of course not seeing her in the bed sent an even more paralyzing fear through his soul. But within a heartbeat or two, he picked up her presence in the house and he let out a very soft sigh. Cleary what hat transpired last night in the heat of rutting passion hadn’t frightened her away any.

Needless to say, he hadn’t expected himself to get waylaid on all sides like that. He wasn’t an empath, but clearly there had been a serious high tide of romance and lust washing through that whole dance floor, and he was no where prepared for it. He had known that mutants went through the same sort of surges, but until know he had always dismissed the whole affair as a weakness on their part, unable to keep themselves in check.

How wrong he’d been. Either that or he was a weaker man.

He managed back to his feet, thankful now as he realized that they were back at her home. At least there were no surprises here. He wrapped a robe around himself, then quickly looked her over, not seeing any bruises (save for one prominent hickey low on her neckline), he relaxed a bit further.. He wasn’t hung-over, at least not in the traditional sense; but the barrage of raw emotion had left him feeling a bit queasy.

Still he managed to smile at her. “How about I make us a pot of coffee?” he finally asked. It seemed the safest and most innocuous question to ask in light of last night’s activities

[Guest CaroMW]

She caught him looking her up and down, making her feel a bit uncomfortable. She pulled the top of her robe closed watching him.

“Yeah, sure…” she said as she turned and headed back into the kitchen, not really sure if she had any coffee to begin with.

She couldn’t help but notice he was acting a differently, if at all possible. “So, is everything ok?”

[Guest Militant Soldier]

He noticed the slight changes in body posture and the timor in her mind and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I… I'm sorry. I clearly allowed myself to get caught up in the moment and… and I… I must have forced myself on you… If I hurt you… " he seemed to shift into internal monologue mode, speaking aloud his stream of thought… "But if you were hurt, you would have told me, yes? But you're not mad, or upset with me, but what I did cannot be right, can it? And what it if happens again?"

Rooslan paused at the doorway, as if he would be trespassing further. A long exasperated sigh escaped him. "I used to think that they just didn't have any willpower, but after last night…." He hesitantly stepped into the kitchen, then slipped into one of the chairs, watching her as she looked for the coffee. "Those sensations. It's like an electric jolt running right through your spine. I didn't realize…." He waited for her to turn around before continuing. "I know there's no excuse for being so… aggressive.. with you…."

Damn if he didn't look like he was going to cry. Clearly he was frustrated with himself, unable to hold himself in check, and obviously afraid that he might have hurt her while caught up in that lustful fever.

[Guest CaroMW]

She stared at him with a raised brow for a moment just listening to him ramble like some madman. At the end of his ramblings she stood there, her brow still arched. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized as she fought back the laughter. “You worry too much.” She pulled the coffee from the cupboard and threw some water on the stove top to boil, still fighting the urge to laugh.

“You do remember I’m a dragon, right?” she said as she grabbed a couple of mugs. “And you do realize that if you did something I didn’t like, I’d make sure you knew it. Be it with a black eye, broken nose, broken leg… well you get the idea.” She put coffee in the mugs.

“Besides, why haven’t you considered the notion that I may have enjoyed it?” She turned and looked at him holding the spoon she had been using with the coffee like a pointer pointing it at him.

“Honestly, you're being a bit self-centered to think it was all about you.” Alix winked before turning back to making the coffee.

[Guest Militant Soldier]

It must have indeed been a precious sight to see Rooslan standing there, gap jawed at her reply. Clearly it took a few moments to process, another to realize that he indeed hadn't upset her or wronged her in any manner, and that she had enjoyed their rather boisterous romp last night.

Then the wave of relief nearly caused his legs to buckle.

Nicolae managed to slip onto a chair before toppling, somewhat stunned by the revelations; totally at a loss for words. In fact he was shaking his head slowly at his good fortune even as she brought him the cup of coffee. With her standing there, he looked up at her, then smiled ever so slightly. "I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

[Guest CaroMW]

“Yes, but you’re my idiot,” she said with a smile as she sat down in the chair closest to him and put a hand on his hand. “Sometimes we will say or do stupid things, but with time all things are forgiven and forgotten.” It was perhaps a direct rip off of something someone had said to her, but she was going to do what she could to try and make him feel better.

“Just don’t beat yourself up about things. I hate to see you so hard on yourself,” she said with a soft voice and concern on her face. She rubbed his hand for a moment sipping on her coffee. “I care about you and it’s hard to seeing be this hard on yourself,” she said as the concern faded to worry on her face.

“Why do you worry so much about me, anyway?” she asked with a growing curiosity.

[Guest Militant Soldier]

He gave one of those soft smiles, ones that were rarely seen. "I guess I still see you as the damsel in distress. As it is I still have a hard time believing you're actually one of those great monstrous dragons. It's just so… odd?" Of course he'd seen his fair share of odd on ship and on the worlds that the Militants had conquered over the millennia. Perhaps it was because it was sights that were not seen that kept that damsel image floating in the back of his mind.

His gazed shifted towards the window. Normally a sign of deference, it was becoming a means in which he could still keep the conversation going when he was speaking about something difficult in his life. Perhaps so he didn't have to see the slight reactions in her face. Not that she would disapprove of him, but he didn't want to see it if she did.

"As to why I'm so hard on myself? It's because of what I've become. I've told you some of what transpired. How they train and conditioned us. I've wondered if it was the method that drove some of my compatriots mad, and not the initial genetic application that turned us into… this. It takes almost all of my strength to stay in control, but yet those that used to be my comrades looked down their nose at me. It is only my control of myself that has made me into some sort of "golden boy", their ultimate achievement. So when I slip…."

Now he fell quiet again. Clearly last night was mulling on his mind, and it took him a few minutes to swing his mind past that block in his brain. She didn't care about his transgression, and that went a long way to drag him back around to some semblance of normal. "I worry sometimes that the day will come when I will completely lose it, like all of them, the ones that didn't make it. It's like the edge of a playing card. I feel if I fall off…."

He kept his gaze focused out that window. He hadn't spoken so much about his worries. Normally he kept such things to himself, but perhaps Drac and them had finally managed to get him to move that stone of isolation. He still feared that perhaps he was saying too much, or not enough; it was hard to gauge, but at least Alix was willing to listen and in her way, console him.

You're too good to me," he insisted

[Guest CaroMW]

Alix frowned when she heard of his worries of losing his mind. She stood from her chair and then put herself in his lap wrapping her arms around his torso and resting her head on his shoulder.

“You are a good person, and you are good to me. I cannot help, but be good to you,” she said trying to make him feel better. She snuggled into his shoulder taking in his smell, finding it intoxicating. She rubbed his back as she worked to soothe and comfort him.

[Guest Militant Soldier]

Rooslan knew that mutants were quite tactile in their communications. Much like dual-ness of their language, much of their communication was visual, usually conveyed with a slight of hand, a shift of weight. To catch all these ever-so-slight gestures, their senses as a whole had been enhanced.

It was noteworthy because since his conversion, he had kept himself as cut off from the world to prevent himself from becoming over-sensitized. Even now those gentle caresses of hers on his back were like and electric current shooting through his body, stirring his needs once more. He turned to face her, and then reached up, puling her to him as he kissed her deeply, totally enthralled with the contact, her touch, her scent.

Once again he fell into that trap, unable to stop himself; but this time he allowed himself to let go and fall.