2010-06-05 - Bottoms Up

Anew Returner spent what is commonly considered to be 'a bazillion years' cleaning Sumeragi's room.

Since the tactical forecaster has more or less committed herself to sobriety, the room has stayed clean. The trash can is full of snack wrappers. The Celestial Being den mother -- if it has anything close to such -- is on her bed, propped up in a lazy horizontal slouch, reading something or other while popping a chocolate-covered strawberry into her mouth every so often. The package of them rests on her stomach. Sumeragi's brain is going in any number of directions at once; right now, while reading intel reports, she's calculating how long it's been since she's had real chocolate. Or a real strawberry, for that matter.

She's more or less pinned it down to five years.

In short, it is a lazy night on the Ptolemaios II. Sumeragi hasn't yet heard any unscrupulous heaving and thumping sounds from the wall she shares with Lockon Stratos, and is enjoying however much time is left until she's forced to turn up the radio in order to ignore it. The repairs to the ship are nearly complete, and they're coasting easy in friendly territory.

What could go wrong?

What could go wrong, indeed?

It has been nearly a week since Allelujah Haptism had been rescued from Fort Stroud by the combined efforts of Celestial Being and its allies in Katharon. He'd spent the at least half the time since then bedridden in the medical bay recovering not only from months of malnutrition and muscle weakness, but the considerable blood loss he'd sustained during the operation itself. What would've taken a normal human several weeks, if not months to bounce back from took the Super Soldier only several days; some credit to Neo-China's unethical tampering with human body was owed.

Reasoning he'd spent enough time in bed, the Meister resolved to speak to several people he'd been meaning to see since returning, sauntering steps carrying him towards the quarters of the first on his list. The Ptolemaios II still took some getting used to...as did the new celestial being uniform Feldt had insisted on fitting him for once he was well enough for it. He wasn't sure exactly what he thought of all the color-coding and..well...conformity, but the pink-haird young girl seemed enjoy it so much (uncommon enough, once upon a time) that he couldn't really bring himself to say now. Besides, it wasn't like they were /bad/ or anything. Al had to admit it looked a bit cooler than hanging about in their civilian clothes. They almost felt more like a real military organization...but was that good thing?

Oh well, no time to dwell on such thoughts. Soon enough there's a rapping at Sumeragi Lee Noriega's door and, should she open it, none other than the newly-returned pilot of the Gundam Arios himself, freshly dropped in those tight-fitting digs. He wears the world's most cluelessly innocent smile on his face, 'clueless' being the only possible explanation for why he would show up at her door carrying an unopened bottle of fine red wine (Where did he even /get/ that?) and two glasses from which to enjoy it, "Care for a drink?"

Sumeragi Lee Noriega isn't in her civilian clothes -- the familiar blue vest top and white capris that she used to command in. Maybe she should have changed into them, though, she thinks. It's not that she doesn't /like/ her new Celestial Being uniform -- but it's as merciless regarding the figure as a physical trainer, although the only exercise it really offers is 'uncomfortable pinching' -- not excellent for toning up.

Also not excellent for toning up: replacing a steady drinking habit with a steady eating habit. There were two dozen of those chocolate strawberries in the box. Sumeragi has decimated their ranks down to six. Her new vice shows just a bit -- she's not quite at the stage of overhanging love handles, but the way her uniform cuts into her curvy figure looks as uncomfortable as it feels. A little too much stomach and hips on display -- a little too much softness to the tan skin.

Sumeragi might knock the strawberries' count down to five -- or zero -- but then the door sounds. Turning off her Future Kindle and setting it down on her bedside table, she picks up the thing of treats and lays it atop the flat e-reader. She's careful in getting up. She feels like she always has to be careful in this stupid suit. She's not sure how Feldt and Anew do it. Or, well, she is, but Sumeragi's thing has always been forecasting, not getting into the shit. She could come up with a billion ways for someone else to get in shape, but her own Neo Pilates video programs collect digital dust.

Sumeragi answers the door, and before she can even get a word out, there's Al, smiling, looking gorgeous in his sharp new clothes, holding out wine...

The tactical forecaster has to lick her teeth under her lips. She smiles, politely, but there's a quiet moment of indecision. The thing is, a moment is all it takes for Sumeragi Lee Noriega to play out a billion different outcomes in her head, weighing the pros and cons, investigating all the possible ways reality could branch...

...and while she's doing that, a soothing little voice in the back of her head tells her that a drink would be /lovely/ right now. "Sure," Sumeragi says, stepping aside so Al can enter. "Looking good, kid. I didn't realize we'd rescued you from a health spa."

"Oh, well..." It was the first time Allelujah had actually /seen/ Celestial Being's tactical forecaster in months. If the new uniforms emphasized trim and cut on the Gundam Meisters, it...certainly did other things for the organization's female members as well. Al wasn't completely ignorant, but he /was/ polite, and thus his one visible silver eye remains level with Sumeragi as he blustered under that comment. He certainly wouldn't mention the fact she seemed to have added a few pounds in that time, but he supposed it was somehow inconsiderate of him to show up as he was, fit and perfect.

"It's...it's because i'm a Super Soldier, really." The Meister will blame his own terribly modified genes when the chance comes, one arm slipping absentmindedly behind his head, "I don't lose nearly as much body mass as a normal human would in the conditions I was kept, and I metabolize quickly..." Wait, this was still a backward apology, right? "So a few days of rest and Miss Returner's cooking was all my body really needed to restore what it lost. Staying in combat shape is important, anyways.." Yes, that's certainly what this was all about, combat.

But anyways, since she went ahead and accepted the Super Soldier wastes no time in stepping into the older woman's room, setting the glasses down on the table and getting to work on the cork with the future-corkscrew he'd brought along, which was just as inconvenient as the old ones. "You look well, yourself." He noted--it certainly wasn't a lie--as the nefarious appliance was worked into position, bottom lip chewed in annoyance, "Have you been eating more?" Again, when Al said these things, he was often too genuinely clueless to even mean it in any way that resembled criticism, "Er, that is...Miss Returner is a wonderful cook, you know? We're all terribly lucky to have her around!" Not that he couldn't reconize gaffes after the fact.

The cork suddenly blasted off without warning, his hand flying in a wild arc before he got it under control (while miraculously failing to spill even a drop of that luscious red). A calm sigh of relief preceded the strangely practiced pouring of elegant, crimson intoxican into both glasses, taking one for himself and presenting the other to his maternal benefactor. "I...owe you all a lot of thanks." Al admits, gaze slightly lowered, "For coming after me, I mean."

When Allelujah passes her to enter the room, Sumeragi Lee Noriega uses her immense tactical genius to sneak a look at his ass unnoticed. His amazing Super Soldier ass. These uniforms are either unforgiving -- or supremely flattering.

When Al nervously Tokyo Drifts from one conversation to another in an attempt to both explain himself and catch up in the same breath, Sumeragi lifts a hand, grinning. She can already taste the wine; she has to actively stop herself from looking forward to it too much, and mostly succeeds -- it helps that a surprise visit from a previously-absent Meister she considers herself quite close with is reason enough to be gleefully eager. Her hand comes up in a gentle gesture -- "Al, I was kidding."

The issue of her eating, though? Sumeragi twists her lips for a second, as if figuring out her response. She decides quickly that she owes Allelujah an honest answer: "Yeah, I've been kind of... overdoing it lately, I suppose." She looks down at herself, and lets her shoulders relax into something that's like half a shrug. "Maybe I should hit the gym. I've just..."

...quit drinking?

Well, no, she can't say /that/, since she's taking the glass of wine from Al, and she can practically feel her palms sweating. In fact: they are. "...had a lot on my mind lately," Sumeragi concludes. Then Allelujah thanks her -- the group, but speaking to her -- and Sumeragi smiles, letting all the worry drain from her features.

"We'd never leave you behind, Al." Sumeragi says this with some amount of conviction, but it's not a harsh, steely kind -- it's warm, genuinely affectionate. "Of course," she then adds, with a wry bend of her lips, "we also now know for sure that we can /never/ bring you /anywhere/." The wry smile turns into a grin, and she avoids laughing at her own joke because /really/, how gauche. She lifts her glass out to touch it to Al's.

"To reunited friends," she toasts. "Cheers."

Bottoms up!

The rules of attraction were nuanced, endless and at time seemingly unpredictable...but for all the myriad variations on the formula, men who easily found the attention of women often fell into two basic categories. There were the masculine types, who were perfectly aware of their incredible prowess and became more attractive for it. Then were the more feminine males, who found their niche in being remarkably ignorant of their own sex appeal. Of these, Allelujah Haptism decided fell into the latter when he turned a light, light shade of red at the belated revelation, "Oh, of course, a joke...haha!" Yes, he knew that along...gee, she certainly snatched that glass quickly. Well, eat least she didn't spill any of it.

The mellow glance fell aside when she mentions exercise, "Well...it's certainly good to be active." And really, it was; the Gundam meister made it a point to use the facilities regularly when downtime allowed him, even if the Super Soldier package meant he didn't have to work as hard as other to maintain that lithe swimmer's body, "But I don't think you have much to worry about, Miss Sumeragi." A slight tilt of the head and earnestly cheerful smile was all it took for him to leave that awkward moment in the past where it belonged.

"I...I never doubted that." And from his tone, he does believe it, "I just didn't think you had any idea where I was. /I/ didn't even know where I was until I was able to piece things together.." Well, until 'Tieria' told him, anyways. That reminded him; he needed to talk to his old partner when the chance arrived. He'd acted a bit strangely when they'd met in Fort Stroud, and he's not seen him since he was rescued...could Tieria still be undercover?

A question related to that is about to leap off his tongue when Sumeragi steps in with that coyly-placed joke, which earns an unguarded laugh, "I'll...try to do better in the future.." The awkward smile he wears is soothed by the clink of their glasses, "Cheers." He agrees, enjoying a solid gulp of the fermentation before the crux of what he was drinking to struck him.

To reunited friends...

The taste of the wine sat sweet and fragrantly upon his tongue, but Al had to work more to enjoy it now. One silver eye looked down at his feet, and the gentle smile of the young man acquired a meloncholy twist in complement. A simple reunion wasn't the only reason he'd visited the tactical forecaster; as was often the case, he had something to confide in her with, as well.

"Miss Sumeragi.." The words he had to sat awkwardly in his throat, unsure of how to form them, "There's..." His chin lifted, and he spoke them anyways, "There's something I need to tell. About the other super soldier in A-LAWS, the one who calls herself Soma Peries.."

Sumeragi takes a drink, too. She doesn't reply to Al's comment about trying to do better. Her eyes say it all -- she makes eye contact during her long sip, looking over the rim of the wine glass like it was an ornate fan. It's a fond look, but not too fond. Sumeragi has sense enough. After all, she /knows/ Al -- she can't imagine how the poor Super Soldier would react to an overt signal of attraction.

Other than wilting and collapsing in on himself, anyway. Which would be cute, but wouldn't exactly get Sumeragi laid.

"This is good wine," Sumeragi says with a small smile when she's done with her first drink in weeks. "Well chosen." It's sweet with a rich fruity flavor that its scent betrays -- but even beyond that, it tastes good because of what it represents as much as what it is. Sumeragi can feel psychosomatic warmth in her belly, which usually takes half a bottle of whiskey to get to -- her mind reminds her body why drinking makes her feel good. Or, more to the point, how it helps distract her from feeling bad.

Speaking of distractions, though: Al has to go and spoil the moment by talking about another girl. The tip of Sumeragi's tongue crosses her upper lip. Without appearing put off, she still approaches carefully.

"Soma Peries? Yeah... one of Leo Stenbuck's goons from the GNX Team. I've read up on them. Team's a mess." Sumeragi sounds rather smug about that, if only because for once, Celestial Being is /not/ a mess. She has never been above elevating herself by knocking others down. "What about her? ...did she do something to you? In jail, I mean?"

Make no mistake, the pilot of Arios did feel a certain...pressure in that look, but not enough to make him feel uncomfortable. To him, at least, it's a look no deeper than that of a friend happy to see another friend, which he'll glad smile to. Still, his glance does turn to the side after a few seconds of contact in a way that may almost seem coquettish if Sumeragi didn't well know the Super Soldier was utterly incapable of playing that sort of game.

And he's glad she likes the wine, too. Al didn't know much about vintages and the sort himself. Truth be told he..uh...had bought this one quite a while ago and kept it stored in a cool sport in his quarters, but had been captured shortly afterwards. It was too bad Anew likely hadn't thought to sweep the previously absent Meister's room, what with him being gone and all. But it was heartening to know he'd chosen well, and the young man offers a slight nod and smile before having another drink. The glass we nearly finished with too, and he tried to evaluate the concoction in the same way he thought the older woman must...but the finer aspects of that art eluded him. He only knew that it tasted good, and sat gently in his stomach.

"Well...I can't comment on that." A small frown marred those boyish features as Al looked askance, bothered both by Marie as a 'goon' and the memory of Leo Stenbuck, "Though I wouldn't imagine he could run a very good team, either.." He didn't mind Sumeragi's tone; he knew her confidence was a source of their success, but that last suggestions put him on the defensive, noticeably tightening up, "Er..."

ONE MONTH AGO

"Ma...rie...gkkk.." The imprisoned Meister struggled to get the name of his long lost friend out of an emotionally choked throat...which was also physically choked. By said friend herself. As she screamed at him with all the fury of a snapped lunatic, "Ca...brea..."

NOW

"N...no..." The Super Soldier shook his head decisively, "She certainly didn't do anything strange! It's just..." Okay, he'll need to finish that wine first, much better, "Her name isn't really Soma Peries. It's Marie, Marie Parfacy. She and I..."

The wine was like oil on the hinges of a floodgate; All he needed to do was start, and everything came pouring out all at once. Some details Sumeragi already knew; of his time in the research facility, the tests and experiments he was subject to. But the sudden presence of this girl who had no senses, who to a young, nameless subject with her thoughts and so named him, who had to be left behind when he escape...that was a new one. But he'll go at his own pace, answering questions or clearing up discrepancies where necessary, so long as she listens.

When the tale is done, the Meister stares at his empty wine glass with a look of resignation, shoulders slumped, "I just...don't know how I never figured it out before. All those times we fought...Marie was the only one who could ever influence my quantum brainwaves to that extent."

Sumeragi's amorous intentions are pushed aside. Though she's a /woman/ with /needs/, she's also a friend with no small amount of empathy -- and a terrorist leader besides. She considers the tale Al spins from two angles simultaneously, only barely trying to reconcile them: from the one side, as the tactical forecaster of Celestial Being, considering what this information means in the context of the ongoing war with A-LAWS and how it affects various strategic interests; from the other, as someone who cares about Allelujah and can see that he feels more passionate about this than anything else in the world save perhaps his own guilt complex (of which this is deeply a part of, apparently).

Sumeragi drinks the rest of her wine and another glass besides as she listens. She has to think, and think deeply -- and now that the wheel's been greased a bit, it needs more to keep turning.

"So what you want, Al..." Sumeragi says, setting down the glass and folding her arms, "...is for us to get a hold of her and see what we can do about this." Sumeragi doesn't propose it as anything dramatic. It's so casual and matter-of-fact -- sure, you know, just your average weekend kidnapping and deprogramming of an enemy soldier. "Shouldn't be /too/ difficult, although Stenbuck's team is notoriously mentally unstable -- and they have Trans Am capability, to boot. But don't worry. We've got someone on his ship keeping tabs on them."

Allelujah may or may not have noticed Christina's absence from the bridge.

Sumeragi steps forward, unfolding her arms and resting a hand on Allelujah's shoulder to force eye contact in the sort of reassuring way that comes more naturally to her after two glasses of wine have infiltrated her bloodstream. "You can't blame yourself, Al. This isn't your fault." She's one to talk about blaming oneself. "All you can do is try to do right by your friend. And you have your other friends to help you. You have us."

Sumeragi may sneak a little extra emphasis and a gentle shoulder squeeze into: "You have /me/."

"Yes.." Al managed a nod at the sentiment while managing to be (or at least seem) wholly ignorant of the older woman's desires aside from a vaguely unconscious way of leader her on through those subtle, involuntary responses (plus, just look at how he was dressed). "I know Marie has managed to come out at least one time before. I think that she might be like me..." And it wasn't hard to understand exactly what kind of condition the Super Soldier was referring to, "Soma is one thing, but...I don't believe Mary wants to fight for the A-LAWS, not the Mary I know." A kind, sweet girl who the Meister could easily throw all his moe stereotypes and ideals upon. Oh well, we'll work that part out when she's 'rescued'.

"I know it won't be easy, especially when they have Trans Am..." He certainly didn't need to be reminded of /that/, a spot of phantom pain flaring up in his side at the mere memory, "And both of her teammates are...attached to Soma Peries." But the discussion he had with Leo and Louise was one the meister would rather not re-visit; some questions he was not prepared to have the answer to. To the mention of a mole, he just nods in the secure belief that she was talking about Tieria (Who, in fact, wasn't Tieria at all), though he /had/ been wondering where the perky bridge bunny had been of late.

As for his guilt complex, Sumeragi may have better luck with a Catholic, but Allelujah musters up his will to respond positively to her gestures. "Thanks, I know....I just wish I could've done something back then." His hand goes over hers, on his shoulder, a quiet strength gained from the contact, "And...i'm not alone, either, that helps more than I can say." The Super Soldier's lip twisted in consternation somewhat, the partially hair-obscured view of his heterochromatic eyes clear enough to showcase a dormant conflict well in them, "To tell you the truth...I thought it might finally be time for me to repent my sins while I was there. I was ready to give up: On changing the world, on Celestial Being, on everything.." As he spoke, Al realized this too was something he needed to say, even if he felt shamed at relying on Sumeragi for personal absolution on top of everything else, "But now that I know she's alive, I....want to get Marie back more than anything." His gaze was different than it might've been in a whole year; a purpose reignited, the eyes of a Gundam Meister, "I feel like I can fight again now."

Sumeragi's cheeks redden a bit as Allelujah goes into his impassioned declaration of intent -- to save Marie, to not only find his purpose but to seize it, to push onward for the people he cares about, to correct the mistakes he feels he owes it to himself and the universe to fix. She averts eye contact for just a moment. Lest she tear up or something. Hearing Al -- the shy boy next door, if the boy next door was feminine and beautiful and a Super Soldier and a Gundam Meister -- so stirred, without flipping personalities...

The effect is powerful.

"You know, Al, I envy you, in a weird way. I hope you don't mind me saying it." Al's hand is over Sumeragi's. She doesn't make any attempt to change this. Her hand grows comfortable on his shoulder. "Because... I felt the same way, for a while. About... our chances. About changing the world. About the plan. I..." Sumeragi leans forward, but looks down, as if suddenly standing was too much work. It's been two glasses of wine, so she's not /that/ drunk. Just a little warm. Minor buzz. Her tolerance has yet to appreciably lower. Maybe.

"You found your reason for fighting, Al... and I don't know what mine is. I keep going, hoping... hoping I'll find it..." Sumeragi, usually so together, is careful not to come completely unraveled. But this is a vulnerable side to her that's barely ever expressed. "I can't ever forget the past... but I know I need to move on..."

This is around when Sumeragi enacts her least cunning plan yet, and lifts her head to try and kiss Al.

The plan fails. Her lips barely brush his when the process of moving one leg forward to stabilize herself causes the seat of her pants to rip open, really fucking loudly.

Al does not seem to be terribly aware of the effect his diatribe has on the older woman (that, or he just writes it off on the alcohol), too wrapped up in his own newfound sense of purpose to bother with things like awareness. It's not that Allelujah was wish-washy, or indecisive....okay no, he was both of those things, but he /could/ have resolve without resorting to his darker, twisted half for it. It was his own way of keeping control, of not letting Hal have everything important.

Of course, there was always the lingering fear; the notion that the only reason Hallelujah was not in control all the time was because he found existence intolerably boring when there was no opportunity or excuse to kill other people.

But those morbid thoughts are pushed into the back of the Super Soldier's mind as Sumeragi pays him several compliments. "I don't see what's so enviable about me.." He admits, a tinge of red adorning the young man's cheeks; too much wine? "But it's okay if you want to say that." Concern pulls at the corner of his lips as she continues, and now it's Al's turn to be a person of support to Celestial Being's tactical forecaster, "If it's you, Miss Sumeragi, i'm sure you'll find a reason, if you've lost one.." He smiles, feeling a touch uncomfortable with her hand remaining on him, but not moving it, believing she was just a little emotional, "After all, I wouldn't be here without your planning, right? None of us can leave the past behind, but..."

The next sequence of events are the most confusing of the poor Super Soldier's life.

Sumeragi seems to stumble forward, to him, and her lips just barely /accidentally/ grace his, surely. He'll instinctively step back, catlike reflexes taking over, arms stretched out in the belief the tipsy tactician was about to fall over herself if someone didn't catch her. Instead, he hears the most unflattering sound in the /universe/ and quickly goes beet red with embarassment enough for both of them.

"I...I...I...I..." All heartfelt promises and exhanges were gone, violently replaced by an oppressive heat beneath Al's collar and the overwhelming instinct that he should no longer be here, for her sake, "I am /so/ sorry, Miss Sumeragi!!" He didn't really do anything wrong, but the Meister executes a stiff bow of apology nonetheless, "I'll...i'll go get Feldt right away, just stay put!!" Yes, Feldt was obviously the right person to seek out in these fashion-related mishaps; he'd discretely explain it all to her and leave it in the pink-haired young girl's capable hands.

Give him credit: the boy could be quick when he wanted to. No sooner did the door seem to hiss open was he already racing down the corridors with the fastest walking pace possible, doing everything he could to forget the last thirty seconds or so by the time the door had closed. It was just...very unfortunate mishap, certainly not the first time such a thing has happened between the two of them.

Meanwhile, he's left a likely shamed and humiliated tactical forecast alone with a bottle of wine still half-full, at least.

If Allelujah is embarrassed for the two of them, then Sumeragi is embarassed for the entire ship and all of the Innovades in the galaxy besides. If there were a rock she could crawl under and die, then she would do that.

Al jumps back, Sumeragi moves back, clutching her rear as if she'd just been shot in it. She has a mirrored space vanity. It's unfortunately placed. If nothing else, Al can claim today as a learning experience thanks to his new knowledge of Sumeragi Lee Noriega's preference for thong underwear.

But then he's gone, before Sumeragi can even get a word out -- her lips just kind of gibber without making noise. Feldt? What? What just happened? The door whisks shut before Sumeragi can go "Al-- wait--"

Too little, too late.

Sumeragi sighs. Alone, for the moment, she walks over to the bottle of wine and sits down at her desk. She takes a long swig, knocking a half-full bottle down to a fourth full.

"Fuck," she rasps, after, wiping her lips. "This seat is cold."

LATER THAT NIGHT

Allelujah Haptism has a very disturbing dream: http://img2.gelbooru.com//images/300/32f59457bb3f5d5a647c8436447291767ac208da.jpg?303714