|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 14, 2012 20:12:52 GMT -5
There is a look of insult on his face as she dares suggest that, and he even wants to protest, but...Part of him feels that's true. It leaves him in an even greater state of confusion, and the headache surging again is not helping matters at all. It's reflected on the look of his face, contorted with his confusion, while a hand goes up almost instinctively to attempt rubbing away the headache.
"No...I do not lie. Why would I, to one who is so important to me?"
He does not sound entirely convinced, but it is not aimed at her, more at himself.
But when the moist warmth of her tongue brushes against his neck, all those thoughts disappear, another pleasant shiver shooting down his spine. He is genuinely disappointed when she turns away.
"It is...Odd. The part of me that is still me revolts at it, but has come to accept it. For now, of course. But the greater part, the human part, enjoys it. Along with many other matters. This worries me."
|
|
Tasha Walker
Minor
She's got legs, she knows how to use them. She never begs, she knows how to choose them.
Posts: 430
|
Post by Tasha Walker on Mar 14, 2012 21:33:17 GMT -5
She smooths the dress down over her hips and twists this way and that, checking her reflection in the mirror. As expected, the dress hits her mid-thigh, certainly shorter than is appropriate for a day dress. Stepping over to the closet, she snags a pair of simple wedge sandals.
By the time the shoes are on her feet and she has arranged her hair in a deliberately messy bun, Nightshade has faded to the background and Tasha is obviously back in control. Tasha walks back over to Arthur and tries to link her arm in his. "Shall we?"
"What other matters?" she asks.
|
|
|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 15, 2012 21:04:32 GMT -5
Arthur can not help himself. He watches her as she slips into the dress. And yet...He can't shake that nagging feeling. That sliver of doubt that was brought about by Nightshade's words. Soon he is looking off into nowhere, thinking, focusing all his effort on it, but the headache...It feels like he is chasing the answer through a field of brambles.
Then she offers her arm, and he is snapped out of it. The soft look in her eyes is back. She is Tasha again. Good. Nightshade can be fun, but he prefers Tasha more. She is kinder. Gentler. Weaker. "Yes, lets." He smiles at her, accepting her arm.
Her question is something he has to think about. Despite having already pondered it many a lonely night. Even now, he is uncertain how to bring it under words. "Hm. It is....Difficult to explain. But what it boils down to, is that I sometimes feel human. Completely human, with the memories of a Cybertronian. Not a Cybertronian stuck in this decaying organic form. As if the human personalities are stronger, more dominant, than my original one."
A scowl pulls at the corners of his lips, and briefly, he is aware of just how unnatural the stretching of his face feels. "Mind, I do not mean it in the sense that I suffer from the same condition as you. I am not schizophrenic. It is more of a subconscious manner. As if all the data is still there, but I have switched operating systems, with a set of new data that fits the new OS better than the old, which then affects my personality protocols."
|
|
Tasha Walker
Minor
She's got legs, she knows how to use them. She never begs, she knows how to choose them.
Posts: 430
|
Post by Tasha Walker on Mar 15, 2012 22:56:16 GMT -5
"Hmpf. I'm not schizophrenic either, Arthur dear," Tasha corrects.
After a few minutes of silence, she says, "We are human, Arthur. Regardless of what memories we may or may not have easy to hand. We are flesh and blood, not metal."
"We are also a race who is designed at its root to change. To transform. We are designed to adapt. It is not so strange that you would start to feel more at ease in your current form."
"I... don't remember. Not like you and Mordred do. I get glimpses, stray thoughts. I have what you and Mordred tell me. But I don't remember. This body does not feel alien to me as it does to you."
|
|
|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 19, 2012 18:35:23 GMT -5
"This is different than merely adapting. I have done that before. This is unnatural, for a lack of a better term." He might feel more at ease if someone who was actually sane would discuss this with him. Not that there are a lot of options. If Cipher is smart, she will think that he is insane. Brawl is a moron. And Mordred? She isn't really the kind of person who is into long talks about the nature of one's existence.
"It is for the best. Your true self...Would not cope with realizing the state it is in. Nor would neither Nightshade or you be able to reign her in. She would overwhelm you, destroy you utterly, and afterwards, herself."
For a moment, Arthur considers his options. There is a restaurant nearby that serves excellent breakfast during the morning hours. But that is also incredibly impersonal..."I have a question for you, about our breakfast. I know a rather pleasant place nearby, with meals of a high quality. Their pancakes are especially phenomenal. We can go there, or I could make some myself. Which would you prefer?"
|
|
Tasha Walker
Minor
She's got legs, she knows how to use them. She never begs, she knows how to choose them.
Posts: 430
|
Post by Tasha Walker on Mar 19, 2012 19:33:01 GMT -5
"Perhaps whatever force did this to us worked or still works to make our shift as seamless and painless as possibly," Tasha says, shrugging one shoulder. She pointedly ignores his comments about her true self. Dwelling on that person, that third entity inside her, makes her skin crawl to the point that she wants to claw it off, destroy it...."
She perks up when Arthur mentions breakfast. "Oh! I love pancakes. Nice fluffy pancakes with lots of butter and syrup." She turns a beaming smile on him.
"If you promise your cooking won't poison me, I am all right with trying it."
|
|
|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 19, 2012 20:16:37 GMT -5
The beaming smile is irresistible to him. Her words did not make him feel at peace, but this did the trick, compelling him utterly. "Then how about I try and make some myself. If I fail, I will call to order some immediately." If she allows it, he will place his hand on hers.
|
|
Tasha Walker
Minor
She's got legs, she knows how to use them. She never begs, she knows how to choose them.
Posts: 430
|
Post by Tasha Walker on Mar 19, 2012 23:19:15 GMT -5
Arthur's touch is allowed and earns him another smile. Tasha's mood is obviously improved tremendously by the promise of pancakes. There's even a bit of a bounce to her step as she walks alongside Arthur.
"I wouldn't have guessed that you could actually cook for yourself. You don't seem the type," she says lightly.
"So tell me, are you and your other half really separate entities, or one mind with two bodies?" she asks, segueing straight from small talk to serious without losing a beat or dropping that smile.
|
|
|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 20, 2012 20:35:38 GMT -5
"Who is not the type? Onslaught, or Arthur Aldrin?" He quirks an eyebrow, curious. Hopefully not the latter, because Octavian has put a lot of effort into making it the way it is now, and he would hate if something stood out as uncharacteristic.
He guides her into his spacious and well provided kitchen, and once there, lets go of her arm, slipping free. Then he starts digging out what he will need out of the cabinets, giving him some time to think about her question. "Hm. The latter, but...How to explain this...Imagine that you are a secret agent, who goes undercover often, for extended periods. At some point, the faux-identities will start to bleed over into your true self, affecting you, and leaving you uncertain as to who you are. That is what it is like for me."
|
|
Tasha Walker
Minor
She's got legs, she knows how to use them. She never begs, she knows how to choose them.
Posts: 430
|
Post by Tasha Walker on Mar 21, 2012 11:55:24 GMT -5
"Yes," she answers to his question of for whom cooking seems uncharacteristic, though she chooses not to elaborate beyond that at the moment.
Rather than take a seat on one of the chairs or bar stools provided, she hefts herself up on a section of counter that she expects will not be needed. She crosses one leg over the other, which hikes up her dress a bit more, exposing more of her shapely thighs.
"Mmmhmm."
"So, in reality, you have the three personalities- distinct, but with a tendency to bleed- even if there is only one mind in control." In other words, you're a lot like Tasha, Arthur dear, just not as shattered. Yet.
"You behave in a very human way, Arthur, especially in regard to me. It makes me curious as to what your other parts think in regard to the same."
|
|
|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 21, 2012 18:16:05 GMT -5
Oh of course she has to be vague and not specify. Arthur hates people who do that, and it briefly shows in the annoyed look he sends her way. Though it does not last long, the sight of her shapely legs melting it until it's a smile.
"Correct."
Then he tears his gaze away, slipping out of his jacket, hanging it over a seat, rolling up his sleeves, and getting to work proper. Though he does freeze briefly at her words. "Well, you are a beautiful woman who is intent on teasing me to the point of madness. I am certain that you can guess just how, exactly, you affect me physically, milady."
|
|
Tasha Walker
Minor
She's got legs, she knows how to use them. She never begs, she knows how to choose them.
Posts: 430
|
Post by Tasha Walker on Mar 21, 2012 23:29:42 GMT -5
Tasha blinks at Arthur's response, then starts to laugh. She rocks back and forth as she does so, kicking her feet out in amusement.
"Oh Arthur, I didn't mean those other parts. I know exactly how you react to me- to her, that is."
Her laughter quiets in short order, and she says, "I meant your other personalities. You have to remember, I don't really know Onslaught, and other than that brief time in the park, I don't know Octavian, either. You are who I know, and you are very, very human Arthur."
|
|
|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 22, 2012 17:51:38 GMT -5
Arthur feels humiliation as she points out his error and then proceeds to laugh at him with a childish glee. He wants to snarl, yell at her to shut up, but he can't even manage a simple snarl. Instead he just nervously smiles and laughs, as another headache kicks in. "Haha. Yes. How rather silly of me. Aherm."
He swiftly moves on to another topic, even as she's still laughing. "To her, perhaps, but to be entirely honest, milady Tasha? You appeal to me more than Nightshade does. You are warmer. Though perhaps I say that because I already had my fair share of her 'kind', and you are exotic in comparison." He flashes her a smile, but he can't help but shake the feeling that this compliment is a hollow one, which he felt compelled to say, rather than one he wanted too. This just further confuses him.
"Arthur is meant to be. As for what Octavian and I think of you? The same as Arthur. You are my lady, the one who I gladly serve. That will stay constant, no matter what form I find myself in."
|
|
Tasha Walker
Minor
She's got legs, she knows how to use them. She never begs, she knows how to choose them.
Posts: 430
|
Post by Tasha Walker on Mar 22, 2012 19:17:15 GMT -5
Her laughter does quiet in short order, mainly because Tasha does notice Arthur's discomfiture. She cocks her head to one side as she watches him, listening, and when he is done, she gives him a softly- voiced order.
"Arthur. Come here a moment."
When he complies, she reaches her hands out and places them on his waist, gently tugging him closer to her. She locks her eyes with his for a few moments before speaking.
"I was not trying to make a fool of you, or laughing at you in a cruel manner. It was a very human error of comprehension, and in context was also, yes, very amusing to me, for to make such an error gives me a very clear idea of where part of your mind is when in my company. I am not Nightshade, and I am not like her, but I have some access to memories of her... escapades after all. She, perhaps, would take advantage to make you feel small for the mistake, but I would not."
She leans forward and presses a very chaste kiss to his temple. It's almost like she knows he has that headache and is trying to soothe it.
OOC: posing w/ permission
|
|
|
Post by Assault/Arthur Aldrin on Mar 22, 2012 19:30:37 GMT -5
When she commands, he obeys without hesitation. He does not even object to her touch. Then, when she speaks, he listens. Part of him is still enraged, but her words are so soft, and the more he focuses on them, the more his headache fades away. In the end, it is easier to simply let go of his anger, to smile softly as she soothes him.
"I understand, milady. Thank you. I am an exceptionally proud person, which sometimes works to my disadvantage." He returns the small gesture of affection by taking one of her hands and squeezing it gently, a thumb stroking the back of her hand. "You are truly exceptional, Tasha." _________________________
Touching done with permission.
|
|