Doors Halloween (doorsween) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-10-29 10:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | plot: halloween |
Who: purr and hiss
What: Reveal
Warnings: Talk of (and to) a corpse?
She found herself, suddenly and rather rudely, right back where she had begun the evening. The warmth of her house made her flush after the chill of the ship, even within the promenade. The hands on her disappeared, no longer a mouth to press kisses to or a solid body to hold her up against a wall. Her own body took a moment to readjust, still humming with the sort of pleasure she never experienced in her own, untwisted world, and it left her tense and with the sort of electric itch that went unsatisfied. And would continue to go unsatisfied. And didn't the hotel have the best sense of humor? Ha ha.
Shaking her head, she reached up with a hand covered by black latex glove, and pulled the cat-eared headband out of her hair. Tiny Maria Gonzales (age 5 and 3/4) had worn them to her abuela's funeral two days ago, smiling when she arrived but going serious once she realized what was happening. She'd abandoned the ears before long, pressing them on the one adult that seemed to understand their importance. They'd lain safely on the kitchen counter until work on Mister Andropov required her to pull her hair back. And it was Halloween. Surely it required some costumed levity, even if there was only a dead Russian man to appreciate it. Ridiculous she may have looked in a tshirt and shorts with cat ears as a headband, but she was working and no one else could see her. It had hardly seemed important in the moment.
Until the hotel grabbed her and landed her on stranded ship with too many people and too many ghosts and not a thing she could do about it except try to muddle through.
She thought about checking in. The men she'd encountered, the men in her door. But as she braced her hands on the side of the metal table, dead flesh so close to her fingers, she sighed out the desire to do so. She had a job, a life now that required certain things from her. Mister Andropov would approve of her attention more than anyone else. He needed it more than anyone else. And she knew she had limited time before she was pulled back through the door.
"Okay, Mikhail," she murmured. "Back to work we go."