week 9 | wednesday night

[baptizer]

[ If Jack had made use of the recreation room after such a horrible encounter with furries, robins, and a lamb - he'd find that his evening isn't going to end just yet. Elizabeth had been careful, waiting until the others allowed Jack to return to his room. IE: he probably insisted he had no where else to be. Luckily, "security" wasn't tight at all.

Like, at all.

Jack... psst.

It's a soft voice that doesn't match the quickness of the next few moments. In this brief amount of time of him leaving the recreation room to return to the elevator - something grabs him. It's sudden, a hand on a wrist similar to his actions earlier; a quick tug that forces the man (albeit slower than she would have liked) into the art storage room. With a shut of the door, the culprit was Elizabeth. Shocking, right?

Defensive, she gives the man his space and drags a hand down her face - her amputated pinky visible with no clear thimble like usual. ]

Lord, I didn't think I'd be able to reach out to you.

[ She hates this. She hates lying. She hates seeing him and she hates knowing that she's assisting him with something questionable. Elizabeth finds herself utterly stuck and to keep him from acting on impulse - she plays along. ]

Jack -

[ Her voice cracks a bit, and instead, she leans up against the wall, slumping a bit. ]

You know I didn't wish for any of this earlier.

Comments

[refactor]

[ It may be slower than she would have liked, but it's slow enough to avoid setting him off. It's a bit strange that things have ended up this way, but Elizabeth certainly know better than anyone else now just how Jack thinks and how he's viewing this ship. Any kind of surprise is a threat. But luckily, he does hear her voice, though it takes him a moment to process it, considering being puleld into the art storage room right after. It's easy to see him tense up as muscles contract sharply enough that it carries that paranoia more clearly than his words ever could.

But luckily, the surprise isn't so sharp that he ends up actually striking at her, though the potential is definitely, visibly there. He exhales a tense, harsh breath as she steps away, and he reaches up to push a hand through his hair. ]

Jesus— Liz- Liz, you can't just friggin' do that. Almost gave me a heart attack.

[ It's the slightly milder way of saying "I was about to strangle you," at least.

His hand falls back to his side as Elizabeth says his name, though his expression turns more serious at the subject. Naturally, he's unhappy with this set of events, but at least not enough for it to be outwardly expressed as anything but a deep frown. Considering Jack, that's a pretty good sign. ]

Did you not? 'Cause, I don't know, pretty lucky for you if you're ending up with my gun. [ His words aren't accusatory, though. They're just bitter. ] So, yeah. Tell me what happened here, kiddo. Why'd the local furry convention decide to do something three weeks later?