2020-07-10: Sour Times

• Log: Sour Times
• Cast: Lan Lilac, Loren Voss
• Where: Damzena Desert
• Date: July 11, 2020
• Summary: Is it unusual to have someone touch your hair?

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<Pose Tracker> Lan Lilac has posed.

    Plastic. What a strange material! And if what she's heard is true, you can't just wait for it to return to Filgaia. It has to be 'recycled' or it hangs around forever. But Solaris is good at recycling, or so Lan has heard.

    She's got Loren bent forward over a sink, careful hands scooping handfuls of lemon water over his scalp and combing it through. The mix in the basin is already turning a gingery color, turned that way by the leftover carrot-red dye leeching out of his hair. "So after we've got it soaked in really good, I'm going to wrap this around your hair. It should get most of the rest out with heat. Otherwise you have to go stand in the sun with wet lemony hair and something tells me you'd hate that even more." Lan nudges a plastic sack with her toe, a staticky crinkling just beyond the edges of the dripping water-sound in his ears.

    She doesn't know why she's doing this. Why she's still helping him.

    Except that maybe if someone shows him kindness, and drags him kicking and fighting out into the sunlight, maybe even Loren can become human.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Solaris is very, very good at recycling.

    His eyes are closed. This is largely because of the lemon juice she's been rubbing into his hair, and his distinct and fervent desire to not get it into his eyes.

    But it's also because this way he doesn't have to look at his own reflection, however distorted, in the water.

    And then there's the other factor here:

    ...It feels nice. When she combs the lemon water through his hair, there's no denying it, it feels nice. Not on a prurient way. It's just... nice, in a way he can't precisely put a name to, in a way that's so foundational and core that it almost might have been easier if it had been for a more... carnal reasons.

    But it's not that. It's the same coin, but the other face.

    "Y... yeah," he utters after a moment, and it's the worse for it feeling relaxing enough that he might even risk planting face-first into a basin full of lemony water.

    What's wrong with me, he wonders, holding that position still.

    "I don't want to see anyone else until I... until this is done."

    He doesn't need to catch any more just-within-earshot commentary.

<Pose Tracker> Lan Lilac has posed.

    It's been a long time since anybody has combed Lan's hair. She's pretty sure the last person was her mother. Or maybe the Stranger, in the For--

    A bead of cold sweat drips down her temple. Lan presses on, and ignores it. It's good to touch another person. To feel a human connection. Even someone like her who's never been in love knows about the importance of just being around other people. She thinks she heard someone call it 'skinship' once. Lan wonders if any of the books in the library talk about it, or if they're all military accounts and science.

    He stutters a bit. How long has it been since anybody touched Loren unless it was to hurt him, she wonders.

    "Don't worry. It's already working really well. Don't open your eyes or anything, but the dye's already coming out." He may have more of a reddish tint to his hair after this, but at least it won't be that unmistakeable vivid orange, so close to Elly's. Van Houten, Loren always calls her. There's a history there, but Lan doesn't dare probe deeper than the surface. Deeper than Elly being able to be forgiven, and that Loren never will.

    "If you like, we can sit and play cards for a while. Or you can help me with vocabulary." Even if Lan's grasp of Solarian is fairly good now, sometimes written words trip her up.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    "I'm... I'm not," he replies, trying not to focus on how it feels to be touched gently, patiently. He swallows, reflexively, trying to keep his breathing steady. It just feels nice.

    It just feels wrong.

    Not just because Lan is -- who she is. But because of this whole... everything. It's just touch. It doesn't mean anything. She's just doing him a favor. It's just his scalp of all places.

    Increasingly, nothing makes sense anymore.
    But increasingly, he's coming undone, anyway.

    "...Cards sounds good," he says, after a moment. His hands clench and unclench in his lap. "Are you almost done? I'm... I mean, my neck hurts."

    He's not sure he has it in him to explain vocabulary, but cards Loren can play even if there's a part of him that wants to curl up and go to sleep.

<Pose Tracker> Lan Lilac has posed.

    It's hard to imagine anybody touching Loren with kindness. Even his mother, in the short time Lan had spent near her, had seemed... distant. Not cold, and not hateful. Just... there'd been a disconnect there, too. Maybe that's what the loss of a brother, a son, does to a family.

    She tries not to think of what will happen if she doesn't return to Little Firelight again.

    Her fingers are steady and careful. Lan isn't afraid of him. Lan doesn't hate him. Even if she should, there's still a lingering curl of something like tired affection for him.

    Maybe it's because sometimes, Loren is just... pitiful.

    She ladles another handful of lemon water over his scalp and hmms. "I guess that's all it's going to get out this way. Time to wrap you up." Lan pulls the plug and lets the sink drain. "Hold still just a little longer. I know your back's probably sore by now." Leaving him to drip, Lan leans over to pick up the plastic bag and scoops as much of his short hair into it as she can, using the handles to tie it onto his head like an uncomfortable hat. She adds a towel on top of it, wrapped into a messy turban in an attempt to retain his own body heat, and helps him straighten up with a hand on the small of his back.

    And then, because Lan is Lan, she wipes his face with a dry hand towel. Even Loren doesn't deserve lemon juice in his eyes.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    Even with Anat, things have not much progressed beyond holding hands, even if Loren wants/fears (this is itself another coin with two faces) more than that. But then, their respective careers afford them only some small bits of time together.

    And he hasn't dared go and see them since he's been back. Not just because of his hair, though. But because...

    But because he just wants to pretend, in some small part of his life, that things are still okay.

    He holds still as she begins to let the water drain out, still not willing to open his eyes. In his lap, his hands slowly unclench.

    "Yeah," he says, and even if it's not really the same thing (is it really not?), he's reminded of his housekeeper.

    Even if this ends up being potentially one of the most awkward pieces of headwear he's worn in a while. Once she wipes his face off -- once he stands up and rolls the crick out of his neck and back, he has the chance to actually feel a little self-conscious. ...It's not like he's all that impressive even under regular circumstances anyway, especially next to some of his peers, but still...

    "So it's just waiting from here, right? ...Good thing I have leave."

    After all that, he finally, blessedly, had some actual no strings attached leave granted.

    Not that he's gone much of anywhere.

    He walks over to his desk after exiting the small bathroom adjoining his office and tugs open a drawer, to retrieve the deck of cards within.

    "So, uh..."

    He looks over at her and remembers again in a burst of embarrassment how it'd felt when she was touching his hair. He instead sinks into his desk chair and tugs the cards free of their deck, shuffling them. It's easier to look at them than at her.

    "...Is Anat, I mean, has Lieutenant Sura been alright?"

<Pose Tracker> Lan Lilac has posed.

    With the job finished (at least, her part in it), Lan wipes a hand across her forehead and steps back to let him stretch. "Yeah. Give it an hour or two, I think." She... honestly was a little unsure if it would work. But the theory seemed sound! Lan doesn't think she's going to tell him that, though.

    Loren goes to his desk to get the cards, and Lan stretches her arms over her head before settling down into the chair across the desk from him. It'd be fun to have beer...!

    "Why couldn't we do this in your room again?" she asks, before remembering why. "...Nevermind. I forgot for a second. And after I lost so much sleep putting those rumors to bed, too." The Legend of the Sleepwalking Lan has been firmly cemented into base lore, she thinks.

    He looks at her, turns a little pinker, and glances away. It's... well, at least he's not sneering. That's a start. (Was it really that concerning for him?)

    "Anat...? I haven't seen them lately. But I'm sure they're okay! I mean, we'd know if they weren't, right?" It's not like Anaitis is very secretive, despite their.... mysteriousness. Lan leans her elbows on the desk and considers. "Was it weird for you, having someone else touch your hair?"

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    'Why couldn't we do this in your room again?'

    He just gives her a look, plastic-bag-and-towel on his head and currently muddled up emotional situation or not. And then sighs, as if put upon. Yes, the story he needs circulating around base is that he's some sort of relative of van Houten, right down to the fondness for Lambs.

    And-- if Anat heard--

    Loren isn't even remotely emotionally or socially equipped to defuse that sort of situation, if it arose.

    "Oh yeah...? I guess they would have left me something if they weren't okay," he remarks, shuffling the cards absently. How is he going to tell them? 'Hey, just so you know, I'm losing my memories. Possibly I have brain damage or something else funny is going on!' ...Even if he finds some way to tactfully break this news...

    ...Probably, this is going to end things between them, one way or another. Either Anat will decide this is too much, and not what they had bargained for, coming into this... or Loren will deteriorate enough that he'll get shipped home. Both are equally likely, and awful to contemplate. He--

    'Was it weird for you, having someone else touch your hair?'

    Loren makes a sound like he's just choked on something and drops the entire deck of cards, which promptly spill across the floor in a small sliding tide.

    "What do you-- what do you mean by that?!" he demands of her, rising from his chair.

<Pose Tracker> Lan Lilac has posed.

    Anaitis definitely would have left Loren some kind of message, Lan is sure. After all, he seems to be important to them... for a different reason than Loren's importance to Lan. Because if it weren't for Loren and Leah - the Major - Lan would be absolutely alone here. Even Lydia, despite being another 'project' of Solaris's.... Lan knows far less about her fellow shaman than she does the remaining Vosses.

    She can predict how Loren will react to some questions, for example - even as she said it, Lan knew there was a greater chance that he'd react poorly than not.

    But still, she hopes the asking will be worth the effort.

    "Ah, you dropped them...!" she complains, as if she's going to ignore Loren's outburst entirely. Lan stoops to pick up the spilled cards, dropping them back into the pile on top of his desk, and looks up at him with something between tiredness and perhaps mild reproach. "Why do you always act like I'm trying to hurt you? Do I really seem like the kind of person that's interested in that? I know that people were cruel to you," because of the brother he can't remember anymore, "but have I ever been anything but your friend?"

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    She picks up the cards.

    And Loren, as she stands to pile them atop the desk and asks him a very pointed question, more or less stops where he stands.

    Because... he's never really thought about it like that. It's just how it's always been, as far back as he can...

    ...well, remember.

    Dawn breaks, as they say, over rock head. Expressions sometimes say more than words ever can, and the look on Loren's face right now is a goddamn paragraph.

    Without a word he sinks into his seat again, lifts his hand as if to run it through his hair, remembers that he's currently entoweled, and simply... stares at his hand for a long moment.

    There are no scars on his body, he remembers with a fresh jolt. Even with his talents, he couldn't possibly have-- there would have been a mark, somewhere. Slowly, his hand shaking, he lowers it to his lap where it curls into a fist.

    "...Sorry," he says to Lan, looking away.

<Pose Tracker> Lan Lilac has posed.

    Lan watches as realization dawns on him. As he gets it. As she finally, even if he may not remember it tomorrow, gets through to him. And instead of the smugness he might expect from anyone else who'd gotten the so-called 'upper hand'...

    She looks at him gently, like someone who understands what he must be feeling.

    Lan isn't perfect, either. She's been embarrassed too, and wrong, and sad, and lonely. If she hadn't been any and all of those things, she couldn't even begin to care how anyone else feels.

    "I'm not mad at you." And she smiles a little bit, like she's glad. "The world isn't mad at you. I know it seems like everybody wants to hurt you, wants you to suffer, but..." She trails off for a moment, watching him as he doesn't look at her. "The world doesn't. There are people out there who care about you. Me and Leah, and Anaitis for starters. The world doesn't hate you, Loren. And one day--" Maybe only if he leaves Solaris, maybe only if he throws his past and his pride away, "--maybe one day you'll believe me."

    Lan straightens the stack of cards a little bit with her fingertips. "I forgive you." For a lot. "But I need you to know that it's okay to not... be so prickly all the time. You can trust me at least as far as you can throw me!" she beams, and just like that she's just Lan again, saying things that don't quite make sense... but still ring with a bit of truth.

<Pose Tracker> Loren Voss has posed.

    She looks at him gently.

    And that's the worst part of it. Sneer at him, laugh at him -- any of these things would be more acceptable than to get that look, as if he's somehow pitiful.

    A part of Loren nearly rages at it -- he's a First Class citizen! He's not some pathetic Worker Bee! Sure, everyone might hate him for
    for some reason
    but he still has that-- he still has this blood running in his veins. He still has his pride--
    right?

    And maybe that's why a part of him just feels deeply, deeply ashamed.

    "..."

    The worst part is, really, that he can feel all these things, as acutely as possible, and still realize that she's right. He's just so used to being hit and hitting back that...

    He finally looks at her again for a moment, then, after a moment's hesitation sighs and reaches for the stack of cards.

    "...When you say you can trust someone as far as you can throw them, that means you can't trust them very much, you know," he says, shuffling the deck again.

    But is that a crooked tired smile nonetheless?

    Maybe... I had imagined it. Maybe it was nothing.

    Trust her, huh...