Murdersphere Mosaic [ManXMan] [BoyXBoy]

Chapter 10 Part 1 Suspension

I frown, looking at Rikkard. "So... it was all a scheme?"

Rikkard looks oddly brittle. He is still firm and strong but there is a strain around his features. "Of course." He says. "You are pretty enough, but I have standards. And you cannot talk about what's happened."

"Yes." I say. "I know."  

"We are Authority members." Rikkard says with an imperious calm. "Address us appropriately."

"Yes Lord Rikkard, Lady Orai." I say.

Orai advances forward. "I have work to do." She waves a hand-held scanner around me. "A prehensile penis? Really. 'Black market mods' suck ass."

She is not angry at all. Honey-mint amusement wafts off of her at the jibe at her own occupation. "Really..."

Rikkard's eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"Yes." She replies. "I see it right here! It is so... off pattern. And the work is so sloppy it can't even be corrected."

"You are the expert." Rikkard says.

"I am indeed." She says without batting an eye. "I need to look these scans over. Later."

Orai disappears, leaving me and Rikkard "alone." I wish he would go away.

"You slept three days." He says, unusually casual. I smell exceedingly conflicting feelings from his telepathic blankness. Neither are romantic. One is a strange hunger. The other feels like... emotional injury. Did he regain his memories? I he as surprised as I am at his past?

"It happens." I say scooting back onto the bed. "When I need to recover."

"You cannot sleep for days down there." He says.

"I know." I reply, turning away so I don't have to look at him. I admit I want him, but I am angry about being used for points again.

"Do you?" He says. "You have performed well below expectations so far. You do not have the luxury of self pity, morality, and, unless it explicitly provides entertainment to the audience: mercy. You are on display, more than ever. You must be entertaining unless you absolutely want to be sent Outside."

I turn to face him, anxiety spikes making gooseflesh run up my arms. I absently rub at them, stupid tears in my eyes. "Yes, Lord Rikkard. I know I am horrible. I know I have to try harder. I know what I am good for."

"Stop that!" He snaps. "Stop being so damned vulnerable!"

"I am fucking vulnerable!" I retort. "And I look like this because this is what the BSM made me! If I was supposed to look like something else, it would have happened. So back the fuck off! I know what's at stake!."

He is on top of me with a blur of motion, a hand around my throat.  "Do you know who I am. Who I still am?"

The sadness in my face turns into immediate incredulity, the mulish defiance that marred my interactions with SHIELD and Poplar during my brief active period on IC-GC1 comes immediately to the fore. So much so, I restrain my hands from grabbing Rikkard's arm, even as he lifted me off of the bed to dangle from his arm. I do not hang limply. I "stand" posture as best I can, legs akimbo, feet dangling ready to touch down. I do not respond.

"Do not disappoint." He says. "The odds are against you."

I manage a smile, lopsided against his fist. "What's new about that? The odds were against me the moment I was re-born. At this point, I'm just born to be alive. You want me to live... motivate me Mr. Grand Producer and do it well."

He is kissing me, arms moving down are round my bare back pulling me close.

"No." I whisper. "They're watching."