#pathetiiic

Cairistiona's job at the archive was equal parts dull and exciting. It all depended on the day. However the recent events that surrounded the crew of the Discovery had rocked their world. While she knew she'd be wiser for paying attention to it all, she hadn't.

At the time of Gabriel Lorca's return to the London base she had been neck deep is cleaning up the mess left by a fellow archivist who had suddenly up a quit with no notice. She'd been left to find out what they'd taken [if anyting] and pick up on the work that the woman had left behind.

It had been a train wreck that had her stuck at the archive until the wee hours of the morning. It wasn't uncommon for her to just nap at her desk in-between shifts that first week. It had been a blessing the base had an employee area she was able to use to clean up.

But now that the mess was taken care of she found herself realizing something. Her desk office was facing Capt. Lorca's desk. It didn't take her long to notice her fellows were avoiding interacting more than necessary.

She had been there, and it was then she made a choice. Cairi hadn't seen him leave his desk once that day. Straightening her back she left her office and went over to his desk, gently knocking on the cubical entrance.

"Captain Lorca?" She rocked back and forth a bit in her shoes, "I wonder if I might steal a bit of your time?"

"Yeah, I guess so. But everyone who goes on these kind of vacations are like... well they tend to be annoying as fuck. So I assumed they were over-hyping that stuff." But as Nadine stands there with him, they kind of get it. Or at least, the waterfall part.

Robert didn't mean to fall asleep, but, hate fucking could take a lot out of a man. Especially when he was the one with his lower half still more than sore. In both bad and good ways. He sits up in the bed and takes in a slow deep breath. The brooding was cute but it didn't change what they did. How Dramatic Cooper Howard could be, but Robert had to remind himself he did just get fucked by America's favorite Hollywood Star.

"Mmm, well you didn't have to stay. As much as i do enjoy your brooding self in my suite."

Not that Robert didn't enjoy looking at the other standing and looking out his bedroom window. However he wasn't going to feel guilty about any of this. Robert reaches for a pack of cigarettes that he had in his nighstand and lights one up. Leaning back against the headboard, the black silk sheet covering him up from the waist down. His dark chest hair a stark contrast to the others own bare chest he's discovered now personally.

Perhaps after all the goading it should of been no surprise to be in the direction of the others anger. A heated argument, no answers in sight, only the boiling rising tension. Robert was expecting to be punched, to be beaten. And it might still come, but he feels Cooper's pin him hard to the wall. But the tension has shifted slightly.

Robert's eyes shifting up and down the others face trying to read quickly what was going on. Was this the kind of stickup he had been wanting or was he about to get his jaw wired shut after Cooper beats his ass.

"Mr. Howard-"

@pathetiiic [ injury / injured prompts ]

It's like a deja vu or some shit, but somehow it's less worse.

"Will you get -- your god damn hands offa-- "

Maybe more annoying. At least she doesn't have to crawl like a worm out of this one. And at least the limb is still attached this time.

The Courier is well used to becoming essentially some big target practice dummy, but it's only once in a while she's caught up in a scrawl that actually knocks her clean on her ass. The gal gets out if she knows she'll be outmatched, but the addition of a second party changes her approach. More often than not lately, she'll catch some poor sap caught in crossfire, and of course that's what happened here.

She didn't even know who these assholes were at first, but they were the ones who started blowing off firearms. Bunch of morons wasting their time and ammo on someone who'd easily put them down and sleep well that night, but again, it'd be a fat waste of her time.

"Let me -- " she winced. " -- do it!"

The woman might be more than willing to take a bullet for someone at times, but it's no reason to draw up a debt. Gal hates a debt, whether it's owed or not, and she's not about to owe it to some farm boy for saving her from completely bleeding out. But she was pretty fresh out of stimpaks - having been just on the way to the closest trading post to restock - and it would've been a long drag on one bad leg. At the very least, he's helping her save a little bit of time by getting a jump on the first aid.

At some point, she threw her hands up and just let him have at it. Pulled some liquor bottle from her bag and took a swig, watching in judgement of a half-assed job that she probably could've done better, but the pain's got her biting her tongue while waiting for the alcohol to numb it. She'll still have to get up and get walking at some point.

At least the other leg is steadily reliable, being metal and all.