asgardmeridiem | [closed] maybe tonight i'll call ya

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[closed] maybe tonight i'll call ya

Who: Pyro and Oswin

eggsterminate
What: Drowning various sorrows from a paper-bagged bottle like classy bitches.
When: Night 210
Where: Gefion Park, away from the Mushroom House
Rating: PG-13 - adult discussions, including sex, pregnancy and death.

[He's back in the park with another bottle, out by the lake this time, staring across its frozen surface and, maybe oddly or maybe not, thinking about Bobby and Rogue.

The couple who could never have sex. Even foreplay posed a problem. Pyro always thought Bobby was the dumbest guy alive for hooking up with her - but then, he'll never have this problem, will he? He'll have some wicked cases of blue balls, but there's no getting so horny that he'll forget all about a goddamn condom and take the chance of getting her knocked up.

And as much of a pain in the ass as she could be, Rogue is hardly Euri.

He takes a long swallow - vodka this time, another 40 despite the mess he made of himself with the last one - and glares out at the expanse of ice. As much as he hates to admit it, Thor is right; the ice is a giant piss-off. Just let summer come already so he can skip all the reminders of home.]

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[Oswin was wandering. The Doctor had returned after being missing and now he remembered everything about her. Their brief meeting, her death to save his life. Things were different. Awkward. She'd thought this was what she wanted and now that she had it...

Maybe somethings were better left unknown. Maybe it would have been a chance to have a real friendship. Now all she could think about was how their time together was limited by the time spent in Asgard.

She wanders around the lake, snowflakes catching in her long wavy hair and cheeks pink from the cold that she's barely aware of. She moves towards a bench she likes to sit at and read, only to find it occupied.

A cough.]

You're in my seat.

[He stiffens up a bit, but manages to relax when he recognises the voice from behind him. She'll laugh, sure, but at least she knows when to stop fucking with him.

Most of the time.]

It's a park bench. There's room for about three. Four, if you wanna get cozy. [He cranes his head around, revealing eyes already beginning to glaze over with drink.] Just sit down.

Not particularly in need of cuddles right now, so let's keep it to just us.

[she drops down beside him, crossing her legs and sitting close enough so that their shoulders brush but still keeping her distance. Then she holds out her hand expectantly for the bottle.]

[He looks down at the bottle, then up at her, eyebrows arched.]

Gimme one good reason you need this as much as I do right now.

[She tosses her hair behind her shoulder and gives him a look that's part unimpressed and part pure sass and grabs the neck of the bottle.]

I'm 19, dead, and only have as much time left as this war in Asgard is left. Oh, and the Doctor just remembered meeting me except that also means he remembers how I was ripped up and turned into one of his most hated enemy.

Now you.

... yeah, alright. [He releases the bottle, for now, and returns to staring broodingly out at the lake.]

I might've gotten my worst enemy here pregnant.

[She chokes and swallows to keep from laughing. Because really, do you know how silly that sounds?]

...Interesting way to define worst enemy.

Turns out she's a damn good fuck. I don't know how it happened, but it did.

[He sighs and leans forward, running a hand through his hair.]

Happened a little too fast to think about preparations. And now she's swearing up and down that she's pregnant, and I've just got to fucking wait to find out how screwed we are.

You do seem like the type that hatesex was invented by.

[Another drink as she watches him, slightly amused by his concern.]

There's a lesson here to be had. [a pause.] She probably isn't. If she was really scared about being pregnant she wouldn't be so sure about it.

[He gives her a very long, very displeased sidelong look before snatching the bottle back.]

You mean she's screwing with me again. Who would even bullshit about something like that -

[Pyro, look at who you're talking about.]

- I'll kill her. I really will kill her this time if this is all some kind of fucked up act. I will make it painful.

[She scowls when he does, but the few swallow is already enough to get her to tipsy. It's economical, being tiny.]

The pot and the kettle, you two would make a great couple. [A shake of the head.] She has no way of knowing. She's either scared or assuming the worst. It's possible that you can't even get pregnant in Asgard.

That's what I said! It'd be stupid to let babies be born here when we're apparently here to fight a war and all going back to different worlds. Tell it to her, though.

[After a long drink, he fires another glare at her.]

And don't compare me to Euri again.

Considering the hatesex, she's probably just trying to frighten you.

[She gives him a look of complete innocence.]

Just making a simple observation.

We're nothing alike. She's a conniving bitch. I'm completely up-front about wanting to kill her in the most painful way possible.

[Another sigh, and he purses his lips in thought.]

So how do I get her back for it?

Get another girl "pregnant". [Clearly, Oswin doesn't think anyone can get pregnant here. It's just illogical.] Decide that you love kids and that you can't wait to be a father.

...No, no one with two brain cells to rub together would buy that one. [Leaning across him trying to grab the bottle back, not really caring about pressing against him anymore.]

[And he's willing to pass on the bottle this time, because she's working with him instead of just pointing and laughing. Treats for good behaviour, Oswin.]

Yeah, that's bad. It has to be something...

[Suddenly, a wicked smile curves his lips, and he stifles a bit of a laugh.]

What if I offer to do the right thing?

No one would believe you.

[She takes another drink, coughs, and shivers.]

But please if you do try that method, invite me. I need to see this go down.

I could pull it off! [He looks indignant, yes, but mostly he just looks really, really drunk.] She knows what happened with my family. I could make her think that this was a second chance for me, a way to start over and correct their mistakes.

[He jabs a finger in her face.] You've got no faith in me. I got a job after you basically said it was impossible, so why can't I do this?

[She scowls at his finger and swats it out of the way.]

I said unlikely. [A hiccup.] It better be a really good story for her to believe that. What happened to them?

[In return, he grabs the bottle back and averts his gaze. No going down that road again.]

She knows. That's the important thing.

Knowing isn't the same as caring or believing.

[Oswin pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them.]

Better hope she really isn't pregnant.

"Hope" is putting it a little fucking lightly, don't you think?

[He's shifted beyond his oh-so-comforting thoughts of revenge, though, because of that one simple statement. Now he's back in that ugly miasma of feelings that rises up when he pushes past the rage at his parents and looks at what's beneath it.

No. All he needs is the rage. The rest of that can -

- but it'll really determine what he does if she is pregnant, won't it? Of course he doesn't want a fucking kid, at 18 years old or ever, but having one will challenge that pretty strongly. Because he's felt the sting of desertion, and he doesn't know if he could inflict it on a person that was half-him.]

Fuck. [He stands up, swaying a little, and walks closer to the lake.]

[She follows him, nearly stumbling over in her haste to get up and from the alcohol that's flowing threw her veins. Damn being a lightweight. But she watches his face and there's something... oddly vulnerable about the way he stares over the lake. There's no hint of rage or arrogance that usually rules his features.

His past. His reaction. One doesn't have to be a girl genius to figure it out. Her voice is slightly gentle]

Hope is pretty fitting if you ask me. Especially since you don't seem the type to pray.

Half-mutant, half-witch. [He laughs a little, going for his usual devil may care style, but it falls pretty flat.] The humans back home would love to get their hands on that.

[Any other topic but his past. He doesn't need another smart-mouthed girl with that much dirt on him.]

Well.

If it comes to that, I'm a professional baby sitter so, don't quit that job.

[A hiccup, it's as supportive as she'll get when she's not entirely convinced of the situation.]

It'd be safe with me.

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