shame is sharp

The pleading tone, her genuine confusion. It almost makes him want to help. Nothing to do with her ability, even though she’s far enough it’s no longer nullified. It’s all going back to the fucking group, he thinks, this idea of serving others with love and gratitude that eats away at himself. Is he selfish or breaking free of brainwashing? Selfish is often the answer to that.  “I want to... Not? I don’t want to touch a stranger's hair.” He pauses before he thinks for a moment about her instead of himself, “Why would you even want a stranger to do that for you!”

as with many other things, fins comes up in second place. that's okay with him. he's not got a competitive soul to him—the game is fun because he gets the chance to spend time with her, not because of the chance to win. and besides, if there's anyone in the world that deserves first place, it would be bina. she beat him fair and square! he really doesn't know what all that talk about cheating is about. he can't imagine for a moment that she would do that, even if she could! "ummm..." he trails off, looking between bina and the plushies. it's hard to pick something cute when the cutest thing he can possibly think of is standing right by his side. "i like that one," he says, pointing to something reasonably fish-shaped. maybe it would remind her of him sometimes. that's a nice thought.

"really? nobody?" ezra finds that hard to believe. normally, he would have even registered her angle—compliment fishing—but there's just something about her that demands he take her seriously. "is this city just a bunch of twats? how could anyone look at you and not promise all the flowers in the world?"

Tee hee! Bina is thrilled, truly. He walks right into her wishes. She glows at the praise, hugging the flowers close to her chest. “You’re really sweet.” she tells him. “You know, you look kind of like a bad boy. Are you one of those bad boys with a heart of gold?” She doubts it, actually. Not to judge a book by its goopy cover, but Ezra seems pretty clearly to be trouble. But maybe that’s even more fun… wouldn’t it be great, if a real piece-of-shit-bad-boy could have a heart of gold just for her?

Oh, fuck, is she really just going to gnaw her skin off? “What do you mean you’re nearly done?! You shouldn’t even have started!” Bina squeaks. “Please don’t, you’re– you’re going to hurt yourself–” Actually Bina has no idea if that’s possible. Xio doesn’t look at all worried about pain. But the loose flesh on her wrists, like an oversized pair of evening gloves, looks terrifying. The only thing Bina can think to do is tighten her hair’s grip on it, as if she could perhaps hold this madwoman’s flesh onto her body.

Oh, rude! Bina’s not used to being told no, and she’s definitely not used to being laughed at so harshly. Her face falls into a pout. “But I want you to help me.” she says, audibly confused. It’s not even really about getting help with her hair at this point – which she is carefully raking through with her fingers – it’s really just the fact that he’s not helping her despite her asking. She said please and everything! And she doesn’t even have to do that!

She's guessing the hypothetical question is because they've got an interest in setting up their own moisture farm -- and Bina's afraid she's going to have to disappoint them. "It-- I wouldn't recommend it, really. The vaporators we use are more than three metres tall, and even the biggest ones can only collect a litre and a half, max, per day. You need a lot of space and a lot of vaporators to get enough water to be worthwhile." She blinks at Rafael, as sweetly as she can, so they won't be mad that she couldn't be more encouraging. Bina hates telling people bad news.

"that's my favorite kind," he admits, quick to jump right into the action. his own reflexes aren't nearly as quick as her own, but what he lacks in speed he makes up for in size. sometimes the moles come up close enough that he can manage to take out a few in one swing! all the while, he laughs at her attempts to knock him to and fro. it doesn't work very well, but he does stumble here and there... maybe on purpose, but all the same having a great time.

"ezra, miss," he says, grinning stupidly. it's not his usual, much less sleazy and much more dopey. that doesn't change that his ultimate feelings are less romantic and more... self-serving. "lovely name you've, got. suits you perfectly."

"Thank you," she beams as sweetly as she is able. "And thank you so much for the beautiful flowers, Ezra. You know, nobody's ever got me flowers before." It's a wonder she delivers this lie straight faced, almost glossy eyed as if she really is overcome by the novelty of this gesture. She's received plenty of flowers in her lifetime. She just wants to hear him say that she deserves all the flowers, as many flowers as the world can provide.

there's a warm fog spreading through his mind, seeping into every fold in his brain. he can't think of anything else but her dark-bright eyes, the gentle squeeze against his body. there's something fighting in the recesses of his mind—a wild, panicked commotion—but it's powerless against the draw of her aura. thank you, he types instead, communicator switching to text-to-speech. i really appreciate it.

"Of course I-" Dodge is cut off mid-sympathy when Bina cups his cheek, turns his head and his dark eyes fall on her face. He recoils as he recognizes the injury there, but no sooner than his brows contract in concern they ease up in a dazed stare: he always forgets just how beautiful Bina is, and Dodge looks at her stunned, like he's catching a glimpse of some wild, rare thing in the forest. "...care. Oh, God, Bina. What happened? I'll kill them."

fins doesn't say anything when she slips her hand into his own, but a quiet warmth spreads through him all the same. wow. nobody has ever wanted to hold his hand like this, before... especially not unprompted. but very few seem to want to be around him at all. it's nice that, every once in a while, he gets to feel like they're the problem instead of himself—a feeling he's only allowing because he's so enchanted by the idea that she could like him. and if she likes him, then he has to be at least a little likeable. he would never insult her by trying to insist it was charity or deception. "whack a mole?" he asks, turning toward where she points. it sounds violent, but upon her assurance that there's nothing real involved, he's willing to give it a try. "oh, like a competition? that sounds fun," he continues, perfectly happy to be dragged along.

"you're a sharp one, aren't you?" his signature smirk is already staining his good looks, albeit with more... warm and fuzzies involved. he isn't normally the sort, but it's like she says. why argue with fate? dark eyes flick down toward his hand as stray hairs coil around it—maybe a bit on the nose, but as it stands, all ezra sees is potential. sexual potential, naturally. "but i think for a lovely lady like yourself, i might make an exception. what can i call you, love?"

Bina loves being people's exceptions, and she's just about stopped caring about why. Her mutation is a part of her, so it's totally real and true if Ezra says she's his exception. So she beams as she says, "I'm Bina. And what about you? I need to know who to thank properly for the beautiful flowers."