The Diplomat / The Skin Changer
"I'm not about to fucking get naked when shit's fucking happening and people..." That was her anger getting the better of her. The blonde man emitted a huff of air and a hand rose so that fingers mussed blonde locks. No, the other man was right. No one was freaking out, no one was losing their shit that she could tell aside from... her...? Though the glimpse of reflection she'd caught in the glass semeed to dress her as more of a fucking aryan wet dream than anything.
Dios mio this is a fucking nightmare.
"Sorry." The word was sincere in it's tone even if his volume dropped and eyes hit the floor. Yet still eyebrows furrowed. What the hell was going on here?
'I have held a similar series of careful concerns.' Duke chimed in from somewhere... But it didn't feel like him... But it did? Or did it feel like her? Where did that monster go? Why did it feel like it wasn't here anymore?
"Yeah." A beat passed. "A drink." Another pause as fingers raised to rub across his (her?) mouth and jaw. "Any idea if they got a good red on board?" Maybe wine wasn't the answer but she sure as fuck was about to try and find out. There were memories, just blips of things, things that felt so very real but also just out of reach but parts of one memory seemed to shine through clear as day in a woman's voice but not one that was her own.
'Sometimes you're you....... And sometimes you aren't you at all.'