[Spy's built like a beanpole, so while he isn't exactly a burden to carry around weight-wise, he has to ruin his posture a bit to make it a little more comfortable. Sorry for the cologne. He goes a little ham with it sometimes.]
I could probably hobble my way there eventually, but if you wouldn't mind.
[Clearly she doesn't, since she's offering, but he's trying to be polite. He nods with a slight grimace, moving as much as he can to make the transition as easy as possible. Once she's shouldering him and he can focus less on remaining upright, he quietly mutters under his breath,]
It would be nice if I'd be able to use my legs at some point while I'm here.
( It does make it significantly easier to take his weight as her arm goes about his waist, holding them near-hip to hip. At least in her boots she's only shy a couple inches of his height, so hopefully he won't be too uncomfortable. She's used to much larger men with the soldiers (some even super soldiers, yeesh) she runs around with, so this is a welcome change of pace.
She doesn't want to exhaust herself just dragging one person to safety. )
Not at all. We all have to look out for each other, don't we?
( The cologne she doesn't mind, but the lingering stale scent of tobacco in his clothes is one she's less inclined for. It's easy to ignore when he's muttering something about his legs, and she tries not to show her amusement. (She fails; her nose is totally crinkling with her eyes.) )
Don't tell me you were paralyzed on arrival, too. Are you a troublemaker, sir?
[As much as Spy loves to complain, his grumbling subsides when he notices that this - his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist - is making him feel somewhat more content about his situation.
He catches that small tinge of amusement in her face.]
Yes - entirely the fault of some sort of crystal insect. I do try to behave most of the time.
[The small lilt of his voice suggests that, more than occasionally, he fails.]
( Hopefully it does a bit more than make him feel content— it's electrifying for Angie, rolling along her nerves pleasantly, and she hopes it will mitigate and begin to reverse the effects of the pollen for him, given some time. It doesn't seem to be getting any worse, at least, but that may still be too soon to gauge. )
That is better than I had assumed, in any case. I saw to quite a few people who had been subdued for getting a little too rambunctious during intake. You still don't seem like someone who behaves, to me.
( And again, she's teasing, even if he alludes to it himself. )
[Spy's lost in curiosity; he's definitely feeling better about his situation, but he can't entirely chalk it up to the fact an attractive woman is carrying him to safety. He takes the time to put his free hand on his gun holster, just in case.]
I can.
[He sounds a little petulant now, but it's entirely for effect.]
Assuming I ever regain use of my legs, I'd be happy to prove it to you.
[And that's filled his flirtation quota for the day.]
( The petulance, while an act, still makes her smile as he rises to the "challenge", and she keeps them moving forward at a steady pace. His weight doesn't seem to bother her and she's keeping to a pace where he can at least try to "walk off" the effects he's under. )
[He's impressed she's carried him this far without any issues, but the longer they walk, the more his legs start to tingle. It's the pins-and-needles feeling that he felt back on the moon when the numbness started to subside.
He starts to put a little more weight on his legs, slowly but surely taking steps on his own again.]
Hmmm. Well I do have a weakness for expensive dark chocolate. And I will never turn down a good cup of coffee. Just for some hints for good behavior— thank you gifts.
( I'd say she's pulling his leg but he can still barely use either of them. (Rimshot here.) When his weight begins easing off of her shoulder and instead lands more solidly on his feet, knees holding, she'll carefully and just as slowly begin to relinquish his body weight back to him. )
Easy; you can still do some serious damage to your joints if you can't quite feel a step turning bad.
[Okay, he appreciates that. It pulls a little, warm chuckle from his chest, and he raises a coy eyebrow in her direction.]
I'll do well to remember that, then.
[He does trip up just slightly, forgetting to put effort into moving his leg as he temporarily forgets they're not working at 100% efficiency just yet. He puts his hand on her shoulder to keep from sending them both careening to the ground or against a wall.
( It was a tease but a sincere one; the information rings true even if she doesn't expect anything in turn, because this isn't the sort of thing she'd ever expect someone to pay her for. Despite his fumble, she supports the sudden tip of his weight and keeps him upright without so much as a missed step, keeping a hand about his waist in case she needed to tug him in to anchor him to her side. )
You aren't required, I promise. And I've got you.
( So yes, exactly like that, and he's already aware of his faux pas so she doesn't rub his nose in it. Just a gentle reassurance that she knows better than to let go of him entirely and he won't be hurting himself on her watch, even if he tries (by mistake). )
I imagine we all do, but it's just one of those tempering moments in life. We're almost somewhere quiet. Then we can sit and rest for a bit and you can walk out on your own two feet. ...In here?
( Some cracked open little shop, it seems. There's a metric fuckton of dildos inside, but hey. No vines in sight and a clear floor to see if any are creeping in. )
[His grip on her tightens as he stabilizes, and it sends a nice little rush of calm through him. He huffs quietly, amused.]
I rarely do things because they're expected of me, Miss Angela.
[He glances up to the shop. As much as he'd love to just sit down for a moment, his training tells him otherwise.]
One moment.
[He draws his gun and gestures for her to move forward. He'll just want to get a quick look around to make sure it's safe before agreeing that it's sufficient.
If Spy was in a normal mood, he might find some humor in finding himself holed up in a dildo shop with an attractive stranger. As it stands right now, he doesn't seem to pay them much mind at the moment.]
( Angela doesn't mind it— the grip or the rush of chroma, prickling along her nerves pleasantly and something she isn't sure she'll ever fully get used to. The production of his gun, however, gets an almost dry exasperation from her. Of course he had a gun. Right then, do your thing. She'll keep a strong support beneath him in case he needs it, assisting in the sweep. )
I wouldn't imagine you do, no.
( Thankfully, there's no vines nor signs of broken entry to be found. Just an impressive amount of adult toys they're neglecting equally, while she finds a corner for them to hunker down in with a clear view of the door and the main window. She'll help him sit, first, then lower to her knees and settle beside him, pressed to his side in maintained contact. )
[Judge all you want, Angela, but it's better to be safe than sorry. And the longer they stand there, the stronger he feels already. But once he determines that the shop is clear, he lowers the gun and nods forward.
He settles onto the ground with a sigh, sticking his gun back in his holster and stretching his legs out in front of him. It feels good to have her pressed against him, but it's only now that he notices the nature of the shop they've settled into.]
Oh, mon dieu. I forgot there were shops like this here.
( Angela will be glad he's feeling better, at least. And gladder still when the sweep proves clear and they have the chance to settle, her legs curling to one side to keep her warmth about her as if it were particularly cold. Thankfully it isn't.
She was, meanwhile, unfazed by the goods of the shop. Nothing she hasn't seen a million times before, soldiers daring each other to buy dildos to wield at each other and his dry remark on it gets a soft huff through her nose, much the same. )
Well, we are in a particular part of town for the festival. They do enjoy their tentacles. The blown glass is beautiful, at least.
( Rainbow tentadicks for all! )
How are you feeling? Has the itching grown worse, subsided...?
[It's not itchy anymore, really, just... incredibly uncomfortable. Like his legs have fallen asleep from kneeling for too long.]
It's more of a "pins and needles" feeling now.
[Normally, he'd pay attention to the signs that say not to smoke inside the shops, but they're alone here and, quite frankly, he's had a rough day so far. So he pulls a pack from his suit jacket and lights up, careful not to let any smoke invade Angela's personal space.]
I suppose tentacles might be in fashion for this time of year here. I wonder if they take commissions.
[Wait. That sounds bad. He clarifies.]
For a vase or something.
shall we about call it a wrap? a few more comments-ish to skulk off?
( She knows the sensation; it's been described to her often in recovering paralysis, no matter how long-term or temporary. Nerves fire just because they can, trying to connect to the nervous system and the brain. She glances over at him when he produces a cigarette and lights it up, the faint furrow of disapproval in her brow, but she says nothing.
Imagine that. A doctor that doesn't outright yell at you for smoking. (It'll come.) She knows the stress relief it provides and why he's doing it now, and he keeps it from wafting anywhere near her. )
That's good; it means nothing was damaged. And... I can't much argue that, at least. ( It gets a laugh out of her as much as it gets a quirk of the brow, before he amends it. ) Mhmmm. If you find out, be sure to let me know, will you?
[Spy manages to start pulling his legs up, just to start moving them and shake off that feeling. They're actually responding now, which is a major relief. Spy doesn't need a walker yet, he's not that old.]
So it seems the effects wear off after a while. That's a comfort, at least.
[He hasn't caught on that touch makes the effects wear off yet.
Spy knows full well she's judging him a little. He still thinks most of those warnings about cigarettes being bad for you aren't nearly as serious as people have been making them out to be, but they're ~official~ and all that so there's probably a little credibility. Like hell he's gonna stop now, though.]
( Seeing his ability to move around again is a boon, and she's offering a hand in case he wants the leverage upright. )
Mm, I had hoped as much and have seen it in shorter terms, but I suppose it depends on the strength or maturity of the flower. And there's no rush to push— once we head out again, I imagine we'll be parting ways.
Your next crutch may not be so jovial.
( Imagine just deadass calling yourself a crutch??? What a terrible joke. Anyway, she's rested enough herself and moves to stand, dusting off her knees and shins. Their few minutes of peace were sound enough. )
Then I'll be looking forward to... commissioning some glasswork, I suppose. Perhaps a fruit bowl.
[After a moment to make sure his legs are back in working order, Spy's not going to take the risk of falling over himself again and having to pay for an artisan dildo that he's accidentally broken. His pride is already wounded enough since coming here. He takes her hand and stands, shaky at first but with increasing strength.]
I hope you do not think of yourself as simply a crutch. I've enjoyed the company.
[Spy offers her a sincere smile and reluctantly lets her hand go once he's standing on his own two feet, busying himself with brushing dust from his suit.]
It would be a nice decorative piece at least. I'll let you know if they accept requests.
[You could state it's an avant-garde piece maybe??]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for cadeuces
[Spy's built like a beanpole, so while he isn't exactly a burden to carry around weight-wise, he has to ruin his posture a bit to make it a little more comfortable. Sorry for the cologne. He goes a little ham with it sometimes.]
I could probably hobble my way there eventually, but if you wouldn't mind.
[Clearly she doesn't, since she's offering, but he's trying to be polite. He nods with a slight grimace, moving as much as he can to make the transition as easy as possible. Once she's shouldering him and he can focus less on remaining upright, he quietly mutters under his breath,]
It would be nice if I'd be able to use my legs at some point while I'm here.
no subject
She doesn't want to exhaust herself just dragging one person to safety. )
Not at all. We all have to look out for each other, don't we?
( The cologne she doesn't mind, but the lingering stale scent of tobacco in his clothes is one she's less inclined for. It's easy to ignore when he's muttering something about his legs, and she tries not to show her amusement. (She fails; her nose is totally crinkling with her eyes.) )
Don't tell me you were paralyzed on arrival, too. Are you a troublemaker, sir?
no subject
[As much as Spy loves to complain, his grumbling subsides when he notices that this - his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist - is making him feel somewhat more content about his situation.
He catches that small tinge of amusement in her face.]
Yes - entirely the fault of some sort of crystal insect. I do try to behave most of the time.
[The small lilt of his voice suggests that, more than occasionally, he fails.]
no subject
That is better than I had assumed, in any case. I saw to quite a few people who had been subdued for getting a little too rambunctious during intake. You still don't seem like someone who behaves, to me.
( And again, she's teasing, even if he alludes to it himself. )
no subject
I can.
[He sounds a little petulant now, but it's entirely for effect.]
Assuming I ever regain use of my legs, I'd be happy to prove it to you.
[And that's filled his flirtation quota for the day.]
no subject
And just how do you plan on doing that?
( No, wait, come back and flirt some more! )
no subject
[He's impressed she's carried him this far without any issues, but the longer they walk, the more his legs start to tingle. It's the pins-and-needles feeling that he felt back on the moon when the numbness started to subside.
He starts to put a little more weight on his legs, slowly but surely taking steps on his own again.]
no subject
( I'd say she's pulling his leg but he can still barely use either of them. (Rimshot here.) When his weight begins easing off of her shoulder and instead lands more solidly on his feet, knees holding, she'll carefully and just as slowly begin to relinquish his body weight back to him. )
Easy; you can still do some serious damage to your joints if you can't quite feel a step turning bad.
no subject
I'll do well to remember that, then.
[He does trip up just slightly, forgetting to put effort into moving his leg as he temporarily forgets they're not working at 100% efficiency just yet. He puts his hand on her shoulder to keep from sending them both careening to the ground or against a wall.
He grimaces in that "you warned me" kind of way.]
Like that, I presume. I dislike feeling helpless.
no subject
You aren't required, I promise. And I've got you.
( So yes, exactly like that, and he's already aware of his faux pas so she doesn't rub his nose in it. Just a gentle reassurance that she knows better than to let go of him entirely and he won't be hurting himself on her watch, even if he tries (by mistake). )
I imagine we all do, but it's just one of those tempering moments in life. We're almost somewhere quiet. Then we can sit and rest for a bit and you can walk out on your own two feet. ...In here?
( Some cracked open little shop, it seems. There's a metric fuckton of dildos inside, but hey. No vines in sight and a clear floor to see if any are creeping in. )
no subject
I rarely do things because they're expected of me, Miss Angela.
[He glances up to the shop. As much as he'd love to just sit down for a moment, his training tells him otherwise.]
One moment.
[He draws his gun and gestures for her to move forward. He'll just want to get a quick look around to make sure it's safe before agreeing that it's sufficient.
If Spy was in a normal mood, he might find some humor in finding himself holed up in a dildo shop with an attractive stranger. As it stands right now, he doesn't seem to pay them much mind at the moment.]
no subject
I wouldn't imagine you do, no.
( Thankfully, there's no vines nor signs of broken entry to be found. Just an impressive amount of adult toys they're neglecting equally, while she finds a corner for them to hunker down in with a clear view of the door and the main window. She'll help him sit, first, then lower to her knees and settle beside him, pressed to his side in maintained contact. )
no subject
He settles onto the ground with a sigh, sticking his gun back in his holster and stretching his legs out in front of him. It feels good to have her pressed against him, but it's only now that he notices the nature of the shop they've settled into.]
Oh, mon dieu. I forgot there were shops like this here.
[After a pause, taking in the sights, he hums.]
The craftsmanship is excellent, though.
no subject
She was, meanwhile, unfazed by the goods of the shop. Nothing she hasn't seen a million times before, soldiers daring each other to buy dildos to wield at each other and his dry remark on it gets a soft huff through her nose, much the same. )
Well, we are in a particular part of town for the festival. They do enjoy their tentacles. The blown glass is beautiful, at least.
( Rainbow tentadicks for all! )
How are you feeling? Has the itching grown worse, subsided...?
no subject
It's more of a "pins and needles" feeling now.
[Normally, he'd pay attention to the signs that say not to smoke inside the shops, but they're alone here and, quite frankly, he's had a rough day so far. So he pulls a pack from his suit jacket and lights up, careful not to let any smoke invade Angela's personal space.]
I suppose tentacles might be in fashion for this time of year here. I wonder if they take commissions.
[Wait. That sounds bad. He clarifies.]
For a vase or something.
shall we about call it a wrap? a few more comments-ish to skulk off?
Imagine that. A doctor that doesn't outright yell at you for smoking. (It'll come.) She knows the stress relief it provides and why he's doing it now, and he keeps it from wafting anywhere near her. )
That's good; it means nothing was damaged. And... I can't much argue that, at least. ( It gets a laugh out of her as much as it gets a quirk of the brow, before he amends it. ) Mhmmm. If you find out, be sure to let me know, will you?
sounds good
So it seems the effects wear off after a while. That's a comfort, at least.
[He hasn't caught on that touch makes the effects wear off yet.
Spy knows full well she's judging him a little. He still thinks most of those warnings about cigarettes being bad for you aren't nearly as serious as people have been making them out to be, but they're ~official~ and all that so there's probably a little credibility. Like hell he's gonna stop now, though.]
Of course.
no subject
Mm, I had hoped as much and have seen it in shorter terms, but I suppose it depends on the strength or maturity of the flower. And there's no rush to push— once we head out again, I imagine we'll be parting ways.
Your next crutch may not be so jovial.
( Imagine just deadass calling yourself a crutch??? What a terrible joke. Anyway, she's rested enough herself and moves to stand, dusting off her knees and shins. Their few minutes of peace were sound enough. )
Then I'll be looking forward to... commissioning some glasswork, I suppose. Perhaps a fruit bowl.
( Made of tentacle dicks??? Angela??? No. )
no subject
I hope you do not think of yourself as simply a crutch. I've enjoyed the company.
[Spy offers her a sincere smile and reluctantly lets her hand go once he's standing on his own two feet, busying himself with brushing dust from his suit.]
It would be a nice decorative piece at least. I'll let you know if they accept requests.
[You could state it's an avant-garde piece maybe??]