[Tess feels exhausted before she even opens her communicator, and she listens to the message three times before she plucks up that good old gameness. Injects some grim humour in her voice. Go get 'em.]
[There's a pause; what kind of a name is that? Not American, that's for sure, and she's suddenly questioning who she saw. She sticks a pin in it.]
Tess, but I'm sure you know that. [She decides not to sink to promising it'll never happen again: it could, and even if it didn't, she doesn't owe anyone that reassurance.] You sound pretty cool about this.
[A short breath through her nose. She weighs her options; having this conversation over a communicator feels safer, but she resents feeling cautious enough to do that.
She'll think on it.]
Maybe not everyday here. Back home... pretty average.
[That has her pursing her lips. It's bullshit to have gotten infected, but who has ever come back from it once, let alone twice?]
I'd say we got lucky we can have this conversation at all. There's no cure back home. I don't think there's one here, either. It's just some sort of reset. We could just be rotting, but instead...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice.
Y'know, I usually save biting for the second date.
voice.
So we'll do dinner instead next time. Mix it up.
no subject
Takeshi Kovacs. [He pronounces it Kovach.] I've had worse welcomes, but let's not do that again.
no subject
Tess, but I'm sure you know that. [She decides not to sink to promising it'll never happen again: it could, and even if it didn't, she doesn't owe anyone that reassurance.] You sound pretty cool about this.
no subject
[A yawn, muffled. His hours are still... irregular.]
I'm not saying your my favorite person right now. [Muffled again- he's turned his head from the mic.] Unless you wanna tell me how smart I am.
no subject
Why would I call you smart?
no subject
Enough about me. That shit that happened. Everybody says it's not an every day thing. Wanna hear it from you.
no subject
She'll think on it.]
Maybe not everyday here. Back home... pretty average.
no subject
no subject
no subject
[No, it doesn't; he isn't a biologist. But what do you say to shit like that? Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I feel moss.]
[Also, and perhaps most importantly, he doesn't want to sound dumb to the bitey lady.]
Sounds like we're some really lucky unlucky bastards.
no subject
I'd say we got lucky we can have this conversation at all. There's no cure back home. I don't think there's one here, either. It's just some sort of reset. We could just be rotting, but instead...
[We're here? We're "good"?]
no subject
no subject
[It feels worthless when there's no way to make it real.]