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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 19, 2008 15:55:26 GMT -5
"Hitting. Hitting on. There's a difference, Krycek." But Mulder felt tired, suddenly, and willing to argue. And... he had been lonely, for what it was worth. It was strange, since he'd gotten used to almost-always being alone. But he'd had Scully, and the television, and the trappings of a culture he didn't really feel he belonged to but was none the less a product of. This place, as interesting as it was, was barren in a sense. He'd had Poe, too, but that was... different.
Despite his best intentions, Krycek did feel familiar. He ran a hand through his hair, making parts of it stand up.
"Look, Krycek, I'm not going to decide anything right now. I'm too tired, we're staying at the same hotel, and I'm going to lock my door. And tomorrow I'll decide if I trust you--and how much."
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Post by Alex Krycek on Nov 19, 2008 16:23:04 GMT -5
"Right. Right. We Russians forget the most crucial of prepositions."
It was almost sarcastic, but too flooded with agreeableness to be anything like it. He didn't push beyond that, or say anything more serious; he could tell that Mulder's attitude was shifting, and that this was not something it would be wise to push Mulder on. Besides, he wanted for, when Mulder came to that decision, it to be that he did trust Krycek, and moderately well, and Krycek believed that the most annoying Mulder found him, the most he would distrust him. Natural human bias. Krycek would try not to encourage it.
He nodded slowly, more reserved, and rather respectful, all things considered. He could have said any number of things, but he was aware of both how irritated Mulder might get with him and what a personal, introspective moment they'd reached, and in some way or other, Krycek did not want to burst it with words. Not moving his eyes away from Mulder's, he pulled back, taking a step in the direction of his own room, where Mulder ought not to argue about his going.
((Can we do the thread for the next day, or did you want to pause, or...?))
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 19, 2008 17:08:40 GMT -5
((I thought it was that night we were looking at, for that stuff with Brandi.))
Mulder thought it ridiculous that Krycek kept bringing up the Russian thing--how "Russian" could he be, growing up in the U.S.? Was he playing out some bizarre Cold War fantasy by romanticizing the losing side?
He performance was a sort of seduction, calculated to calm him and assuage Mulder's violent tendencies when it came to him in particular, and it was working. As far as it went. He didn't want to deal with him, but he was loathe to get rid of him altogether, because he, Mulder, was the one who played fair and was on the right side.
"Okay then," he said, not impeding Krycek's progress to his own room and still highly suspicious of the "coincidence" of them rooming so close. But he waited, not willing to turn his back.
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Post by Alex Krycek on Nov 19, 2008 18:26:01 GMT -5
Krycek almost sighed inwardly. He had hoped to watch Mulder leave, for some odd reason, to watch him as he left and maybe threw a distrustful backward glance. Lifting his hand in the air half to wave him off, he carefully stepped back and continued on, reaching into his pocket after a moment to pull out his key and then shake it at Mulder as he went over to his door.
He looked over at Mulder as he slid the key in, turning it as he raised his eyebrows, bemused.
((Well, before the stuff with Poe happens, Krycek first has to get to the point where he would actually seduce Mulder, and I think Emilie should meet Poe. It would have to be a night where those things are true.))
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Post by Fox Mulder on Nov 19, 2008 18:40:34 GMT -5
It wasn't as though Krycek couldn't find his room, or guess which one it was, but he felt better not leading him directly to it. As Krycek glanced at him, Mulder returned a very similar expression, and suddenly they were two lost people in an unfamiliar world and, for a moment, it made an odd kind of sense to him.
And then he went into his own room and wished he'd punched Krycek more. He knew he'd lie in his bed, sleepless or half-dozing, until he heard Emilie stir next door. Where was a damn infomercial when you needed one?
((Oh, okay. I'm sorry, I'm having a little trouble getting him there, but we will.))
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Emilie Autumn
- In the Duggins -
Beware of escaped inmates
Posts: 90
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Post by Emilie Autumn on Nov 19, 2008 21:42:17 GMT -5
Emilie woke up very suddenly, feeling uneasy and cramped, and taking a moment to notice that it was still dark outside. She did not feel restless or drowsy, however, which was unusual. Even when she had the fortune to find a pleasant place to sleep, like hidden in the opera somewhere (before some chorus girl tripped over her body and screamed and she was chased out the next morning), she had never gotten a night's rest.
Smiling, she thought to herself, it might have been Mulder.
And then she remembered who that was. She glanced around the room in surprise, and then smiled to herself further, stretching elaborately, catlike, and shrugging off the large, padded, uneven coat, she turned it inside out until she found a zipper on it, pulling it down, and pulling out a very large dress with black and olive stripes, she stripped and put that on gingerly. Rubbing at her face and finding it charcoaled, she took out her key, and went to the door.
Her hand shook as she turned the key, but she managed, and slipped out into the hallway. The bathroom was likely to be down the hall; they always were. She tiptoed down very carefully, spooked by every sound.
She was so sufficiently spooked by the time she had finished washing her face that she raced down the hallway into her room and closed the door very loudly behind her, locking it hurriedly, as though an unseen attacker had chased her down. Heartbeat extremely high, she leaned back against the door like a frightened cat, flattened back against it as she waited for the fear to subside.
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