Doug & Darcy | Black Horse Aftermath
Nov. 27th, 2023 06:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logs(Backdated) The nausea part of Malice's powers finally hit Darcy, just in time for Doug's check-in to lead to poor results.
Darcy had slept part of the afternoon away, waking up too sore for putting in more effort than shoving a few bison bites into her mouth before taking her next set of pills with a few swallows of water and sinking into her computer, mind focusing on manipulating her succulents in Viridi instead of the pain her body was currently in. Shortly after, she drifted back into sleep, the peaceful music and easy flow of the game winding her brain down into drifting flows of code.
When she started rousing again, it was to the sound of Doug's voice. Her body made the attempt to roll towards it, only to pull a weak moan at the first stretch of the stitches across her stomach.
"Shit, Lemme-" Doug muttered, helping to maneuver Darcy while taking most of the strain and twist off of her stomach muscles. He had come up after dropping a bunch of analysis into the post-mission discussion, and it had left him with a twitchy need to do -something-. There had been one bout of vomiting at the memories of Mastermold in the NYSE, and the 'friendos' were still restless, his right arm twitching occasionally as if not fully in sync with the rest of him. "I was just coming up to check on you, since I have your pill timer mirrored on my phone," he said a bit lamely once Darcy had settled again.
"Mmh, no, warm, come back," she protested, voice slow and raspy as her left hand made a grabby motion. "Not time, phone hasn't beeped in my brain yet." Maybe not the best thing to say, but honest. Her game paused as she came to higher awareness, the room quiet except for the hum of electricity as the background music came to a sudden stop.
Doug eased in closer. "Mine goes off a bit ahead of yours so I can check in. Maybe it's a bit mother hen, but having things to do...helps." Helped with keeping memories at bay, or vivid mental images of their mutual ex tearing into Darcy with claw-tipped fingers, or the tendency of his mind to attempt to pull a dozen disparate events together into some sort of cohesive pattern so as to be ready for whatever the next twist of fate might bring.
"Murtaugh, exhausted and feeling his age," he muttered in a repurposing of the 'Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra' myth-language of Star Trek.
The claw marks running down Darcy's cheek stretched at her quick grin, and she hid her grimace by pressing her face into Doug's shoulder. At least the slash across her forehead didn't hurt more than a cat scratch. "I don't mind it. You do you, boo. Order a bunch of hockey throat guards, they stop her teeth. Gonna make everyone wear them, watch me."
"With the number of other enemies we've encountered with bitey powers? I'll be first in line, babe." Doug definitely didn't have to be sold on the guard's efficacy, the fact that Darcy had gotten back in one piece was plenty for him. "Maybe I'll charge them to the Chicago Blackhawks," he mused as he poked at a browser on his phone.
"Best," she mumbled into his shirt. "Phone? Or tell me red string theories. Ask questions. I'll answer."
Doug was still trying to settle himself (and the friendos), but talking about things was generally better than bottling them up. Using his words, Doctor Grim would be so proud. "So, I was pointing out that technically this is the second time we've encountered Apocalypse-type imagery, if you count the psionic construct that Rachel was raised in. And then I remembered from the debrief that Essex used that construct to raise someone else - Adam. Y'know, Laurie's jailbait boytoy." Or perhaps the other way around, who knew.
"Nothing new under the multiverse?" she murmured. "It's. I don't remember much about meeting him, even still. Either of them, really. Just snatches and blurs. Young. Easily embarrassed in the way that teenagers tend to be around people they find attractive. Polite, cute for his age. The sort of guy I might've set Maya up on a blind date with if she'd been a few years younger." Darcy hissed as she rolled onto her side, stretching her arm across Doug with a wince as her splint landed on his chest with a soft thunk. "Mmsorry, not good at judging the heft of that thing. Least it's just temporary." She pressed a kiss against the flesh of his arm. "She was playing with me."
"'Course she was," Doug muttered darkly. "It's not enough for her to be the smartest, she's gotta rub everyone's nose in it." She hadn't always been like that, but along the way something had broken inside Laurie. It was better that she wasn't in the mansion, but she had inflicted a lot of damage on the way out, and like the proverbial bad penny, it seemed she just kept turning up.
"I was letting her, mainly to get information. She knew I was doing it too, just. She likes the ego feed. If it gets us intel... well. I mean, she almost got lucky with my hand but she did manage to miss the ulnar. But I'll take shallow cuts in places that hurt like hell for information, it's a fair trade." Darcy grinned. "Besides, I got to see the look of absolute outrage on her face when she couldn't get at my neck."
Doug snorted. "Okay, that was probably pretty choice." He shook his head after. "Doesn't mean I have to like the rest, though. And this Apocalypse shit has me off-kilter. Probably ought to go talk to Angie about it." He didn't have to like that, either.
Darcy moved her hand back, struggling to sit up. She wished Doug would talk to her about things, but. She hadn't been there. This is what she could have, a few minutes of check-in and a bit of a smile. "Okay. Hand me my pills and water before you leave again, then?"
Doug saw something in her shifting, and quickly shook his head. "In addition to, not instead of, babe. Just that this Apocalypse stuff has me a little rattled. Especially since a nanite Doug was a Horseman in that psiscape thing. And when you add in those Clan Akkaba assholes throwing around magic, which I happen to be allergic to these days...whenever this Death pops up it's probably best if I'm not right in the thick of it. That's all, really."
Darcy shrugged, fingers of her unsplinted hand worrying the edge of her blanket. "You've helped, your obligation is fulfilled. No need for you to watch me sleep if you're just leaving, I'm no Bella Swan." She pushed at him gently with a foot as her phone started an insistent beep, gradually getting louder before silencing abruptly from a sharp thought. "Move, I've gotta take my meds. Enjoy your talk with Marie-Ange."
"It's not a social call, Darce," Doug said with a sigh. "Just telling a person who tends to run the ops about a potential issue." He could understand feeling like it was hard to compete with older relationships, but there was a reason he'd come to check on her first.
"Of course it's not, just like this wasn't just an obligation so you feel better for having done something since you weren't on the op to jump in front of her claws or something equally stupid and white knighty." Darcy was a nice person until she wasn't, but the combination of hunger-nausea with emotional hurt and throbbing pain throughout her body made her mean. "Just go. It obviously can't wait, and I'm not sure why I thought I might be able to rely on anyone but myself this time either. I'll chalk it up to the pleasant surprise that you even bothered to check on me without someone directing you to."
"It -can- wait, I just..." Doug trailed off into a frustrated noise. "So I'm a pushy mother hen if I stay, and an asshole if I go. I get that you're in pain, and it's easier to self-sabotage when you feel like shit or whatever, but I came to check on you because I care about you and I was scared shitless hearing about what you ran into." He sighed, pressing a brief kiss to the top of Darcy's head before standing up and pulling the covers around her to fill the gap he had left. "Just...get some rest and I'll bring you some food when I come check on you again."
Darcy was pushing the blankets away even as Doug tried to pull them up, lurching upright with lips pressed tightly together as she swallowed convulsively. The nausea lurking low in her stomach had risen the longer she was awake, and she could feel the heat of stomach acid reversing course as she snatched at the firm pillow sitting in her computer chair on her way to the bathroom.
She didn't have the energy to toe the door shut behind her or do much more than get her face over the side of the tub before the sound of retching started to echo around the room. The pillow managed to get pressed to her abdomen, and she was grateful she'd already had her hair in braids, but between rounds all she could do was let out a weak moan before the bile rose again.
"Shit." Way to go, Ramsey, you just stomped all over a PTSD trigger, asshole. Doug immediately rushed to the kitchenette to find a large cup and fill it with water so that Darcy could use it to wash the sour taste out of her mouth once she finished in the bathroom. He wasn't going anywhere for a while, like he had said, talking to Angie could (and would) wait. He dashed off a quick text before heading over to check on his girlfriend.
Darcy had slept part of the afternoon away, waking up too sore for putting in more effort than shoving a few bison bites into her mouth before taking her next set of pills with a few swallows of water and sinking into her computer, mind focusing on manipulating her succulents in Viridi instead of the pain her body was currently in. Shortly after, she drifted back into sleep, the peaceful music and easy flow of the game winding her brain down into drifting flows of code.
When she started rousing again, it was to the sound of Doug's voice. Her body made the attempt to roll towards it, only to pull a weak moan at the first stretch of the stitches across her stomach.
"Shit, Lemme-" Doug muttered, helping to maneuver Darcy while taking most of the strain and twist off of her stomach muscles. He had come up after dropping a bunch of analysis into the post-mission discussion, and it had left him with a twitchy need to do -something-. There had been one bout of vomiting at the memories of Mastermold in the NYSE, and the 'friendos' were still restless, his right arm twitching occasionally as if not fully in sync with the rest of him. "I was just coming up to check on you, since I have your pill timer mirrored on my phone," he said a bit lamely once Darcy had settled again.
"Mmh, no, warm, come back," she protested, voice slow and raspy as her left hand made a grabby motion. "Not time, phone hasn't beeped in my brain yet." Maybe not the best thing to say, but honest. Her game paused as she came to higher awareness, the room quiet except for the hum of electricity as the background music came to a sudden stop.
Doug eased in closer. "Mine goes off a bit ahead of yours so I can check in. Maybe it's a bit mother hen, but having things to do...helps." Helped with keeping memories at bay, or vivid mental images of their mutual ex tearing into Darcy with claw-tipped fingers, or the tendency of his mind to attempt to pull a dozen disparate events together into some sort of cohesive pattern so as to be ready for whatever the next twist of fate might bring.
"Murtaugh, exhausted and feeling his age," he muttered in a repurposing of the 'Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra' myth-language of Star Trek.
The claw marks running down Darcy's cheek stretched at her quick grin, and she hid her grimace by pressing her face into Doug's shoulder. At least the slash across her forehead didn't hurt more than a cat scratch. "I don't mind it. You do you, boo. Order a bunch of hockey throat guards, they stop her teeth. Gonna make everyone wear them, watch me."
"With the number of other enemies we've encountered with bitey powers? I'll be first in line, babe." Doug definitely didn't have to be sold on the guard's efficacy, the fact that Darcy had gotten back in one piece was plenty for him. "Maybe I'll charge them to the Chicago Blackhawks," he mused as he poked at a browser on his phone.
"Best," she mumbled into his shirt. "Phone? Or tell me red string theories. Ask questions. I'll answer."
Doug was still trying to settle himself (and the friendos), but talking about things was generally better than bottling them up. Using his words, Doctor Grim would be so proud. "So, I was pointing out that technically this is the second time we've encountered Apocalypse-type imagery, if you count the psionic construct that Rachel was raised in. And then I remembered from the debrief that Essex used that construct to raise someone else - Adam. Y'know, Laurie's jailbait boytoy." Or perhaps the other way around, who knew.
"Nothing new under the multiverse?" she murmured. "It's. I don't remember much about meeting him, even still. Either of them, really. Just snatches and blurs. Young. Easily embarrassed in the way that teenagers tend to be around people they find attractive. Polite, cute for his age. The sort of guy I might've set Maya up on a blind date with if she'd been a few years younger." Darcy hissed as she rolled onto her side, stretching her arm across Doug with a wince as her splint landed on his chest with a soft thunk. "Mmsorry, not good at judging the heft of that thing. Least it's just temporary." She pressed a kiss against the flesh of his arm. "She was playing with me."
"'Course she was," Doug muttered darkly. "It's not enough for her to be the smartest, she's gotta rub everyone's nose in it." She hadn't always been like that, but along the way something had broken inside Laurie. It was better that she wasn't in the mansion, but she had inflicted a lot of damage on the way out, and like the proverbial bad penny, it seemed she just kept turning up.
"I was letting her, mainly to get information. She knew I was doing it too, just. She likes the ego feed. If it gets us intel... well. I mean, she almost got lucky with my hand but she did manage to miss the ulnar. But I'll take shallow cuts in places that hurt like hell for information, it's a fair trade." Darcy grinned. "Besides, I got to see the look of absolute outrage on her face when she couldn't get at my neck."
Doug snorted. "Okay, that was probably pretty choice." He shook his head after. "Doesn't mean I have to like the rest, though. And this Apocalypse shit has me off-kilter. Probably ought to go talk to Angie about it." He didn't have to like that, either.
Darcy moved her hand back, struggling to sit up. She wished Doug would talk to her about things, but. She hadn't been there. This is what she could have, a few minutes of check-in and a bit of a smile. "Okay. Hand me my pills and water before you leave again, then?"
Doug saw something in her shifting, and quickly shook his head. "In addition to, not instead of, babe. Just that this Apocalypse stuff has me a little rattled. Especially since a nanite Doug was a Horseman in that psiscape thing. And when you add in those Clan Akkaba assholes throwing around magic, which I happen to be allergic to these days...whenever this Death pops up it's probably best if I'm not right in the thick of it. That's all, really."
Darcy shrugged, fingers of her unsplinted hand worrying the edge of her blanket. "You've helped, your obligation is fulfilled. No need for you to watch me sleep if you're just leaving, I'm no Bella Swan." She pushed at him gently with a foot as her phone started an insistent beep, gradually getting louder before silencing abruptly from a sharp thought. "Move, I've gotta take my meds. Enjoy your talk with Marie-Ange."
"It's not a social call, Darce," Doug said with a sigh. "Just telling a person who tends to run the ops about a potential issue." He could understand feeling like it was hard to compete with older relationships, but there was a reason he'd come to check on her first.
"Of course it's not, just like this wasn't just an obligation so you feel better for having done something since you weren't on the op to jump in front of her claws or something equally stupid and white knighty." Darcy was a nice person until she wasn't, but the combination of hunger-nausea with emotional hurt and throbbing pain throughout her body made her mean. "Just go. It obviously can't wait, and I'm not sure why I thought I might be able to rely on anyone but myself this time either. I'll chalk it up to the pleasant surprise that you even bothered to check on me without someone directing you to."
"It -can- wait, I just..." Doug trailed off into a frustrated noise. "So I'm a pushy mother hen if I stay, and an asshole if I go. I get that you're in pain, and it's easier to self-sabotage when you feel like shit or whatever, but I came to check on you because I care about you and I was scared shitless hearing about what you ran into." He sighed, pressing a brief kiss to the top of Darcy's head before standing up and pulling the covers around her to fill the gap he had left. "Just...get some rest and I'll bring you some food when I come check on you again."
Darcy was pushing the blankets away even as Doug tried to pull them up, lurching upright with lips pressed tightly together as she swallowed convulsively. The nausea lurking low in her stomach had risen the longer she was awake, and she could feel the heat of stomach acid reversing course as she snatched at the firm pillow sitting in her computer chair on her way to the bathroom.
She didn't have the energy to toe the door shut behind her or do much more than get her face over the side of the tub before the sound of retching started to echo around the room. The pillow managed to get pressed to her abdomen, and she was grateful she'd already had her hair in braids, but between rounds all she could do was let out a weak moan before the bile rose again.
"Shit." Way to go, Ramsey, you just stomped all over a PTSD trigger, asshole. Doug immediately rushed to the kitchenette to find a large cup and fill it with water so that Darcy could use it to wash the sour taste out of her mouth once she finished in the bathroom. He wasn't going anywhere for a while, like he had said, talking to Angie could (and would) wait. He dashed off a quick text before heading over to check on his girlfriend.
