[ There is definitely a period of silence there, while he realizes what he said. It isn't as awkward as it could be, at least. Hell, he's even (faintly) amused. ]
Cafeteria is probably less impacted by whatever is going on with the ship. I'll meet you there in five.
[ Or three and a half, actually, so he's got time to get coffee together.]
The new warden had only left a voice message for her, but it's between meals, so he's easy enough to spot -- and he's certainly not bad to look at, either. How did this hell boat get so many attractive people on it?
Frost slides into the seat opposite him, grinning. "So you're Scott," she says, with a casual lilt. "What's your deal? And I don't mean your warden deal, I mean -- your whole thing. Is that coffee?"
"This is coffee," he says, because that's a question he knows how to answer. The other one, though, leaves his tone a little bemused. "Do you want a cup? Maybe to tell me what your whole thing is?"
Seriously, he's willing to answer questions but he's not sure he can begin to figure out how to answer a question that... imprecise and vague. He's not even sure he has an entire thing.
Oh, this one is going to be fun to try and undo. Without even asking, she reaches across the table and touches fingertips to the side of Scott's mug, the ice crystals spreading from that point of contact across the ceramic surface. "That's my thing," she explains proudly. "Or a taste of it, anyway...." Because she can do a lot more, if she's allowed to crank it up.
"As for why I'm on the hellboat, your guess is as good as mine."
He watches his mug freezes and then heaves a sigh that sounds long suffering, but is actually mostly amused and... nostalgic. He misses Bobby. "It's always my coffee..."
He stops there, though, without explaining further. "In that case, my 'thing' is converting ambient radiation into concussive force and discharging it through my eyes."
He's not making guesses about why. Not important, or helpful right now. Especially if she doesn't have any idea or isn't willing to admit that she does.
"Through your eyes?" She looks over him skeptically, eyebrow raised, and shrugs. Powers are weird, but it's not like anyone actually gets to choose what they get. "Guess that explains the shades."
She leans in, chin propped on her hand, a little grin tugging at blue lips. "You know, I haven't seen a whole lot of other metas around here, so it is kinda nice that they put us together this month. We just get each other, you know?"
"Certainly better than humans will get us," he mutters, a little distracted by the word meta and trying to figure out where he's heard it before. It's not a common one, at least not on the barge. "Are you from the same place Cold is?"
"Cold?" she echoes, just a single confused beat passing before she realizes, laughing softly. "Oh ... Snart? Yeah. I've dealt with him before." (Or: Caitlin has, but she doesn't want to get into that now.) "Has he been harassing you, too?"
The way there's a pause, a catch, before the word piques her interest. "Friends?" she asks, and then her tone changes, grinning, a saucy eyebrow raised. "Or friends?"
"Oh! Special friends." She sits back in her seat, looking for all the world like the cat that got the canary. "You know, I always thought he had a type. All ... lean, dark-haired and heroic." She traces an absent pattern on the tabletop, frost spreading in the wake of her fingertip, and asks her next question with wide-eyed faux innocence. "Is he any good?"
And if she knew he was thinking of Mick, she'd laugh out loud. Scott does seem to have more than a few things in common with Barry, though, and everyone knows Snart had more than a crush on him.
But she doesn't know that, so she just smiles and nods in his direction. Points for him. "That's fair. Besides, he must be, if you've done it more than once, right?"
She looks him over appraisingly, and gives him a nod of approval. "There's no way you'd be desperate. You know how gorgeous you are, right? I'd be surprised if half the hellboat hasn't tried to climb you like a tree."
Apparently I lost this - I'm sorry (feel free not to continue if you'd rather.)
He laughs, and shakes his head. "There's a different between attractive and climbable, but... thanks." He's actually less awkward about this. It's not entirely lacking, but hey. He does, at least, recognize that he is physically good looking, and can recognize a compliment when he hears one. Even if he can't quite just say 'thank you' like a normal person.
omg don't worry about it the other one was more intense
She raises an eyebrow, but shrugs like it doesn't quite matter. "I mean, I would," she says with a small grin. She probably won't, on account of him being in Snart's bed, of all places, but she would.
We're not gonna talk about how desperate she is.
Re: omg don't worry about it the other one was more intense
"I really doubt you're going to have any trouble at all finding someone to climb like a tree. Or into bed with," he says, after a slightly awkward and confused pause. See also the difference between being attractive (he is) and desirable (he isn't).
He isn't actually blind though, she is gorgeous and he knows this ship. She doesn't really need to get desperate. Or at least doesn't need to stay that way for long!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Private Voice.
Re: Private Voice.
Re: Private Voice.
Cafeteria is probably less impacted by whatever is going on with the ship. I'll meet you there in five.
[ Or three and a half, actually, so he's got time to get coffee together.]
Re: Private Voice. -> Spam
-
The new warden had only left a voice message for her, but it's between meals, so he's easy enough to spot -- and he's certainly not bad to look at, either. How did this hell boat get so many attractive people on it?
Frost slides into the seat opposite him, grinning. "So you're Scott," she says, with a casual lilt. "What's your deal? And I don't mean your warden deal, I mean -- your whole thing. Is that coffee?"
Re: Private Voice. -> Spam
Seriously, he's willing to answer questions but he's not sure he can begin to figure out how to answer a question that... imprecise and vague. He's not even sure he has an entire thing.
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"As for why I'm on the hellboat, your guess is as good as mine."
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He stops there, though, without explaining further. "In that case, my 'thing' is converting ambient radiation into concussive force and discharging it through my eyes."
He's not making guesses about why. Not important, or helpful right now. Especially if she doesn't have any idea or isn't willing to admit that she does.
Re: Private Voice. -> Spam
She leans in, chin propped on her hand, a little grin tugging at blue lips. "You know, I haven't seen a whole lot of other metas around here, so it is kinda nice that they put us together this month. We just get each other, you know?"
Re: Private Voice. -> Spam
Re: Private Voice. -> Spam
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Last name usage, at least, doesn't strike him as even remotely strange. It's common in his reality and, truthfully, a bunch of people onboard's.
"He's not harassing me. We're... friends."
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This is so, so, extremely awkward.
He's always awkward but this is more awkward, for so many reasons, not including superficial similarities to Emma.
"Um." Eloquent, Summers. "Friends who have sex?"
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"That's pretty subjective." And also none of her business.
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But she doesn't know that, so she just smiles and nods in his direction. Points for him. "That's fair. Besides, he must be, if you've done it more than once, right?"
Re: Private Voice. -> Spam
Re: Private Voice. -> Spam
Apparently I lost this - I'm sorry (feel free not to continue if you'd rather.)
omg don't worry about it the other one was more intense
We're not gonna talk about how desperate she is.
Re: omg don't worry about it the other one was more intense
He isn't actually blind though, she is gorgeous and he knows this ship. She doesn't really need to get desperate. Or at least doesn't need to stay that way for long!