#nikkarion

His Carri was never nervous. She was a predator, quick on her feet, sharp as daggers, fearless. 

She was nervous now. Her talons clicked on the tile, and her good eye flickered. Which meant whatever she wasn't telling him--he often suspected the category of things she didn't tell him was vast--was bad. 

He watched her pace, then stood, breaking up the pacing and sliding his arms around her, pulling her into a kiss. It was a human gesture, one he didn't indulge in often, but it stopped her short, and he could feel her begin to relax under his hands. When he tried to end it, she made a pleased growl and pulled him back in for more.

Oil dripped onto the ground. Sunk into the earth below them. The soft patter was the only sound--Nikolai had ceased even his near-constant clicks. He'd seen. Didn't want to see anymore. Better right now to be blind.

But even that couldn't spare him. He could feel her in his arms, the weight of her--what Laurent had left him before Nikolai had managed to steal her away, fleeing, carrying her here to... to what? She was beyond help, and he knew it. Had seen too much death not to know when it was looking him in the face. 

She moved--Laurent had severed her vocal centers, she couldn't speak, but she raised her hand to his face, even now taking care not to sink those dangerous claws into his metal skin, and Nik bent, pressing his forehead to hers as her life ebbed away. And felt shame. He should have done more, should have tried harder to protect her, as much as she would have hated him for it, maybe now at least she'd be...

There was one thing he could still do for her. He reached around to the port on her neck, connected. For a moment the pain flooded him, nearly disabled him, but he pushed through it, took it into himself, away from her.

And in that wordless exchange, as she faltered and flickered, feeling her processors fading, he promised.

Promised that Laurent would pay, no matter the cost.

Nik tilts his head from side to side, the way a human might crack his neck, a sign that he's getting very angry. But his fury doesn't change the truth of the grayface's statement--it's right. His control over his own life is little, when it comes to it--at Bishop's beck and call, as much a slave as he ever was.

But with Carri... he feels free. And perhaps she feels the same, though he won't speak for her. Not like this grayface does. 

A sneer tilts Nik's lip. "It's a rare 'bot that belongs to itself. We're artificial, we get treated like property. Shit, even I got a leash..." He stuffs his hands in his pockets. "And if she kills me, I... well. Can't say at this point I'd mind. At least I know she'd make it interesting..."