thedifferencebetween | Ryslig Inbox

He's so- good at this. Not that Harley hasn't been involved with people twice her age, before; but experience didn't necessarily mean they got things like communication, and stating preferences and dos and don'ts. Slade, for example; sixty years old, and if she even tried to talk about the pair of them, Harley's pretty sure he'd throw himself out the window to avoid it.

A clink of her glass against his, and Harley takes a long, generous sip of her drink. They- whoever they are- made it with real champagne, too, delicate and refreshing and bubbling on her tongue, and the orange juice is so fresh and sweet it's like they squeezed it special, just for the glass. Damn, but she could get used to this.

"I like that you're open about it. Good for the ego, if nothing else. But who said anything about exclusive? Honey, even when I'm full on gone over someone, me and exclusive go together like oil and water." A catch of her teeth against her lip, and Harley's eyes drop in a fair impression of being demure. "Which is its own kind of game, in a more- intense dynamic, than what we're doing. Not one I play, these days, but don't tell me you never. Possession, and jealousy-" Her eyes glint up at him, from under her eyelashes. "They have their place."

The offer prompts a smile; and Harley makes a show of pressing her lips together, mulling it over. Finally, she drains most of the rest of the glass, and sets it aside to ease closer to him. Her hands nudge apart the lapels of his robe to find his bare chest, sliding up to his shoulders.

"I'm a six- for when you go shopping. And get something you like! I'm not too picky, as far as equipment goes- long as I've got something to grind against, I'm good. But for right now? What I like?"

One hand catches his free one. "I liked that night we went out hunting. I liked that way you got- all self-assurance and knowing what you want. And knowing you were going to get it. Give me orders if you want; tie me up; but it's less about the details and more about- well- attitude." She tugs his hand up, tilting her head back to settle his fingers on her throat.

"I want you to fuck me, Jack. I want to see if you can get me to the point where I beg. You're one of the few people I've met here that I think maybe's got it in you."

"I mean an open committed relationship counts as 'exclusive' to me." Jack shrugs. Semantics, really, as far as he's concerned. "And I've done that thing before. But you better believe if there's an established agreement about not fucking around....don't make any mistake, I am not cool with that. It's about respect, it's about respecting what's been agreed on and the boundaries set. Don't respect that...."

Jack trails off with a dark little flash of his eyes. He will have the respect he deserves.

"It's cheating I have a big problem with. But it's not cheating if you've said 'yeah, fucking around is fine'. Hell, Harley, do I strike you as the kinda person who's gonna be happy in a long term, sexually monogamous relationship? Holy shit, I'd go crazy!" Even he and Nisha had understood that fun is fun, and they both loved their fun.

But he does like some legit exclusivity in the beginning, he just thinks it's a good way to settle into a relationship without distractions. Which had led to all the trouble with Moxxi. And he'd even been willing to give her another shot after that! Not that she'd appreciated that....

And oh...oh things were headed in a direction Jack hadn't been totally sure he was going to bring up. But....

"Oh, I can do that, babe. I like taking control as much as I like giving it over. But...uh..." His fingers at her neck flex a little, already hungry with anticipation. "Getting back to safewords and shit I should mention I've got a little thing for necks. And squeezing'em in the fun way. Fun for both parties, I mean, not...not murder strangling, I keep those things separate."

"Of course I mean fake cheating, real cheating is just boring. Like, god, why even? Just be up front with your shit, and no one needs to get hurt." It's not often Harley will state things quite as baldly as that. But it's important they're clear.

And that flash of anger on his face shouldn't send the thrill through her that it does; and neither should the way his fingers twitch against her skin catch her breath in her throat, like she's already expecting a squeeze, or a press. Her eyelashes flutter, and Harley sways, just a little, into his grip. Just enough to feel the press of it against her windpipe.

"I don't know if I got a thing- but I do like it. Not many clearer ways to establish control without props, if you know what I mean." She swallows, eyes on his, letting him feel her throat work against his palm; then reaches up, and taps his forearm with her fingertips three times. "That's the safeword. I'll pick a verbal one too, if you want- but it don't sound like speaking's going to be much on the agenda here."

Her pulse is already starting to quicken; and Harley's tongue flicks against her lips. "And why not? Don't murder strangle me, obviously, but- we barely made it back to the car, last time. Can you imagine what feeding and fucking at the same time must feel like?"

"Oh, yeah, no, I'm into that kind of game, I get ya. But exactly, just be clear and don't be a lying, backstabbing piece of shit!"

It's really not to much to ask, and yet....

"I know exactly what you mean." Jack doesn't exactly squeeze, but he presses his fingers snugly into the flesh of her throat. "And I got it. Don't think we'll need a verbal one, that's pretty clear." And not the kind of thing that's a normal gesture during sexy times.

"Okay yes, that is hot. I mean I don't sleep with people and kill them at the same time, that's just messy and gross. But having sex while killing somebody else, absolutely, super down with that, we should totally do it sometime whenever we get punted back home."

Since there's no killing anybody here, something Jack doesn't like but will put up with in exchange for everything else. Plus there's the...whatever replaced the Cube when they'd ended up stealing it or whatever.

"But I do dig the kind of rough fight sex that's like...you're going at it, but you're also going at it."

"My, uh- my favourite kind." Harley's voice breaks, just for a second; the way his hand tightens is getting distracting. Reaching out, she catches the edges of his robe again, trying to tug him closer. "And a much happier ending that a real fight."

Her head turns enough that she can eye the table next to them. The remains of breakfast are there; but so are the drugs, and mimosas in various states of emptyness. Two fingers scoop up a joint that's rolled away from the rest, and Harley holds it up between them. "Still want some now? Or we saving it for later?"

"I really hope that means you're gonna make me fight for control, I love that." It's a fun game. It's nothing Jack has any interest in outside of that realm, either. What's the point? Anyone who doesn't want him is an idiot anyway, and he doesn't want idiots.

"And yeah, I'm gonna need that. I'm not a robot right now, I got all the crap that comes with being a meatsack human dude over forty. And ya know what's really not sexy?" He plucks the joint from her fingers.

"My back going out mid-fucking."

"Is it really control if you don't got to win it first?" Harley presses into the hand again, deliberately pushing closer to snap her teeth gently in his direction- before pulling away entirely, spinning to snap up another joint.

"Oh I don't believe that for a second. I can see under that robe, you know; you're doing pretty good for a mature gentleman such as yourself. Seems about as likely as you having little blue pills hidden around here." She pokes him in the chest, the grin broad on her face. "Now pick a seat somewhere, so I can sit in your lap."

Jack wants a struggle for power? She can do that.

"Believe it, it's happened before. You know I'm enthusiastic in bed!"

He's...not gonna say anything about pills. Who needs to know he's been taking a supplemental helper for years? He has a high stress life, he drinks a lot, it happens. Whatever.

It says a lot that he's halfway to lifting his right hand to light the joint...before remembering he needs a lighter. He snags one from the table and lights up, inhaling deeply. That's the stuff! At least the stuff to start the day off with.

"But you're right, I am in excellent shape. Between working out and the small army of space age doctors I had on hand...dunno what happened to my ass, but honestly I never had much of one in the first place. And it might be little, but it's tight and fit!"

He's proud of his physique, overall, nearly nonexistent ass notwithstanding. Considering the time and money he's poured into looking how he does...

But he nods in agreement and relocates himself to the plush chair by the window, sprawling comfortably.

She slaps his ass on his way to the chair- because how else is she going to know for sure? All she's had a look at before is his chassi- which is very nicely shaped, as it turns out. And apparently real life don't change that much about a boy.

"You're hot as hell, and you know it." Harley tosses her bathrobe on the bed, to settle in Jack's lap with her own joint and the lighter. She slings her legs over the arm of the chair, letting them kick idly into the air. "Tall, and lean- strong jaw, great hair -" One finger trails along his cheek, on the non-mask side. "And your eyes are two different colours. I figured they'd be blue." The smile that tugs at her mouth is wide and easy; this close she can really look at him, taking in every inch. That mask really is incredible. "And a great attitude, which really is the most important part."

This time she touches the masked side of his cheek, letting one fingertip trail down. "You can feel this, right?"

"Well yeah, I'm literally called 'Handsome' Jack. You don't get a name like that for no reason!"

And he says nothing to counter the compliments. No one needs to know that his jaw stays strong and sharp thanks to space-botox, his hair has been surgically grafted to be fuller and thicker...but only when it started thinning. Jack's never changed his face or looks any, only maintained them at whatever cost necessary.

"And oh yeah, the ghost-eyes are all natural, had'em my whole life. And I have the best friggin attitude you'll ever find! I'm just a positive guy, love life, really wanna make the most of it!"

He grins and waggles his eyebrows, enjoying being able to express himself with his face. And being able to feel Harley like this, skin and skin and flesh and flesh.

"Don't worry about that. I can feel it just like normal." And the mask doesn't feel that different than skin. More lifelike than the synthetic skin on his simulacrum form. And the warmth of his body comes through it, giving it the illusion of body heat. "Just think of this like my face."

"I am thinking of it like your face- except that it's not made of metal. And it's moving." She's watching him with nearly as much fascination as when they first met; grin twitching even wider when his eyebrows waggle. "I can't believe you invented this, though. Like it's perfect." Aside from the edge and the obvious difference in skin tones- you can't tell that it isn't skin. "God, you really are a genius."

Harley- stops, then, and her head tilts, like she's considering something. Considering Jack, maybe, in a new light. She takes a moment to light her joint, and draw in and hold a long, practiced hit, before speaking again. "Hey, Handsome- what do you think about all the Fog God, Fourth God business?"

"The god stuff? Oh please don't tell me someone's trying to sell you on all that bullshit." Jack's tone clearly indicates how he feels about it.

"I dunno why anyone follows either of'em. It's like opening up your head and saying 'here! brainwash me! do shit to me!'. The friggin fourth? Yeah, literally puts stuff inside your body. I seen it. Tech shit."

If that's not basically begging to be possessed, Jack doesn't know what is. And he knows a little something about controlling people via tech implants.

"Honestly I figure Foggy's like the Eridians back home. Some kind of really powerful alien that latched onto this planet or ended up tied to it or something. Not a god by any means - those aren't real! - but powerful enough that people who don't know any better accept that. I figure we're like...like her ant farm or something like that." He takes another hit, letting the smoke roll around his mouth before inhaling properly. He's thought about this a lot, had plenty of reasons to think it all over.

"And they both need way better PR. A manager, something."

Harley waits, and smokes, and listens to him expound. That's the other nice thing about Jack- he's just fun to be around, and listen to. Also, he's got some good points.

"Is that why no one likes the kid? Because no one else's given me a straight answer on that. Like fuck the Fog God, but he seems- well, kind of fun, if I'm being honest." She pauses for another hit, blowing smoke out the window. "I mean this place seems pretty great so far- yeah, the no violence rule is a bummer, but, not like I'm going to let that stop me."

She eases closer, an arm going around Jack's shoulders. "But for real fuck the Fog God. I talked to her, and let me tell you, I was not impressed."

There's a veiled looked in Jack's direction as she smokes; trying to gauge him through her eyelashes, read the expressions on his face. It is a little like meeting him for the first time; his head, his shoulders aren't nearly as expressive, it's all in the face, now. Subtler. A little bit subtler, anyway.

"You, uh.... would you take her out, if you could?"

Not her most subtle segue. But hey, she's new at this.

Jack goes quiet a moment, expression drawing in darkly.

"Yeah. They will stop you. Cuz we got built in shock collars now to control us. No problem as long as you follow the rules, but step out of line...." His tone indicates clearly that he's learned this all firsthand on his last visit. "And it's not just a zap like you'd give a dog that was barking too much, really fries ya. Kills ya if ya really step over the line."

There's a tightness at Jack's eyes and the corners of his mouth, his displeasure evident.

"See, the Fourth isn't any different just because once upon a time he was somebody's kid. The shit that got done to him...it's not even like it was a life or death choice and hooking up to shit was the only option to keep him safe. No, and the more shit was done to him the less human he got. That's how it works. And now he's just another friggin too-powerful asshole that wants to control us. People just go 'oh, no, he's a kid, he just doesn't understand some stuff'...bullshit. And he doesn't care about collateral damage either, trust me. Fourthies fuck shit up as much as Foggies do."

Jack shakes his head and takes a couple more hits, calming himself. He gets worked up about the Fourth in a way he doesn't about the Fog. He doesn't like either of them, but too much about the Fourth hits him in uncomfortable ways.

"Babe, if I thought it was doable, I'd have already taken out both of'em. But it's all about risk versus reward, and so far it's always been too much risk, not enough reward. And not enough info. Like...okay. Say we take her out. What happens to us? Do we end up in the deadlands here or go home if there's something to go back to? Cuz that's a sticking point for me. Don't wanna get into all the messy deets, but I got a lot of stuff here I can't have back home."

Like an actual living existence, for one. And also Angel.

For once, Harley's expression goes serious. She's thinking, really thinking- and maybe pouting. Just a little. 'Long term planning' isn't exactly her forte- can't they just kill the Fog God and figure it out from there?

"Okay, but- what if we could take her power? Liewen did it to make Elias all godly, and now he's just down under Bavan, chilling and powering the monsternet. We could go ask him, and he'd probably tell us how he did it! Hell, he told those chucklefucks that messed up Elias."

There's more spilling out of Harley's mouth than she really intended. But it's Jack. As she told Slade not too long ago, there's only three people she trusts in this hellhole- and Jack is one of them. In fact Harley turns a little more toward him, snuggling and sexytimes momentarily forgotten, in the face of plotting.

"We find out how he took her power before, and we do it. All we need to do then is find some way to hold it- and use it, maybe, so people who want to leave can, and people who, you know, want to stay can do that too. Jack, that slice of Fog God that's been roaming around Bavan for the last week? It was attracted to machines. The idiots who did this before tried to put it some kind of cybernetic arm, but it wasn't big enough- but you, Jack. You're a genius. You been building robots and stuff your whole life."

Her voice goes lower, and Harley rests the tip of her finger into the hollow of his throat. "If anyone could build something big enough and strong enough to hold whatever powers her? It's you, honey. And then once she's as powerless as the rest of us, we put that bitch in the ground once and for all."

Harley's voice takes on a venomous twist, with the last few words.

"Lotta variables we'd have to figure out, account for, work through. Lotta contingency plans gonna have to be made just in case."

Jack's thoughtful, considering it. It's not like he's never thought about it, but like he said. Risk and reward. He's got a sweet life here, and no guarantee of anything better if he fucks up.

"And that right there...I could build stuff that worked with Eridian tech and their minerals because I spent like a decade studying that shit so I could understand it as good as any human possibly can. Secret to my success baby! I don't make a move until I got all my pieces in place and I know I've got a 98% shot of pulling it off. So before we get too far into our divine coup plans, I gotta know way more about what we're dealing with."

But in Jack speak, that's as good as agreement. He's open to this idea, as long as they do it right. He's always wanted that level of power, it's what he was doing before he ended up here. Harnessing what the Eridians left to reach their level.

"There's no point if there's an equal chance we're gonna fuck up. I'm down to overthrow a god with ya, that sounds fun as hell, but this kinda thing doesn't happen overnight. Hell, it took me half a decade to take over Hyperion and that was just one loud lickbag at the head of a company." He'd played the slow game, putting himself in position, putting everything else into position, setting things up just the right way...

And even then he'd had to think quick and make changes to his plans when shit started going sideways.

Five years? Ten years? There's definitely a pout, this time. But it's not much of one. A long plan is still better than no plan. It helps that the weed is starting to hit her system; a buzz building under her skin, and like she can really focus on the plot at hand.

And he wants to. That alone is enough to bring a smile to tug at her face.

"Okay, so- so the first step is talking to Liewen, yeah? We go down there, we get the deets from him. And Christ, he could know all kinds of stuff. What she actually is; or at least what kind of juice she's got, and how it works. That's not actually putting ourselves out there, that's just getting intel, right?"

"That's step number one! We start our recon. Gotta know what we're getting ourselves into."

And if it still seems like too big a risk...well, that's that. Jack isn't stupid. But it's worth looking into, worth at least the information gathering.

"That's why so many people fail, they jump too soon. Smash themselves on the rocks of hasty action. Not Handsome Jack! You're smart to bring this to me, babe. I mean you're right, if anybody can do it...so we find out if anybody can."

He settles in, wrapping an arm around Harley's waist and exhaling a fragrant cloud of smoke in her direction.

The grin tugs wider on her face when Jack moves under her; and she settles with him, fingertips setting up a slow, stroking motion along the back of his neck.

"This might be a good time to get all the players together, actually. Do some planning. With you I got- five people, in mind. And any more than that can't agree on ass all anyway. But since She's definitiely not here- we can talk all we want, and she won't know fuck all."

The last hit on the joint, and Harley reaches to stub out the remains in the ashtray nearby. Then she stretches; arms up, shoulders back, head rolling on her neck. It's to enjoy the feeling of two human arms again, as much as to savour the high amping up to thrill through her veins.

"What do you think, Handsome? If I set up a Council of Elrond night for Operation Bake Sale, would you be in?" There's a stifled snort. "That's my code, for plan Kill That Fog Fuck. Uncrackable, ain't it?"

"Mmmm....oooh, I dunno. Didn't realize this was a multi-player operation, I don't really do well working with groups, had some bad experiences, lots of getting stabbed in the back or almost assassinated..."

Jack sucks in air between his teeth. He hasn't done the group project thing since Elpis, and that...well, that's why he's wearing a mask these days.

"Plus you know I got trust issues, and you know I like calling the shots. And I don't like people trying to make suggestions or get their hands all up in stuff I'm building. You got a team to work under us, maybe. Depending on who we're talking about. Cuz I mean it, sweetheart, I'm only in if we do this my way. My way works, I know it does. Anybody jumps the gun or some crap, we're screwed."

"Oh, Jack, honey- no one's getting in your way on the tech stuff. I'll make sure of it." She brushes one fingertip against the tip of his nose; then lets it trail down further, brushing over his lips. "... Christ, you got a mouth some people pay thousands for, you know that?"

What were they talking about? Right, the plan!

"Okay- no meetings. Or I can meet with 'em on my own, nothing wrong with that. But they're people with gumption, ideas- and the way I hear it, those tunnels under the city can get pretty weird. Might be we need the backup. And I know we'll need it with Miss Priss. I've taken on fake gods before; you can't run that as a solo mish."

His skin- mask included- is warm, under her fingertips; and everything's tingling in the best kind of way. Harley draws in a breath, slow and deep, and melts a little further back into the chair, into Jack's warm, soft frame. "... I don't know where you got it, baby, but that is some good kush."

"No, no, if these are the people we're gonna be relying on to have our backs, I wanna know exactly who we're dealing with. And they're responsible for themselves, far as I'm concerned, anybody but you and me's disposable. It's not like dying is any big deal around here."

He'll treat them like he treats any team under him. They're a means to an end.

He chuckles and parts his lips, closing them briefly over Harley's fingertip because he can.

"But I feel the need to mention I did manage to control a god-like being before, and that was a solo expedition. But again...a decade of doing my homework beforehand." And all his space tech and other aces up his sleeves. But he'd done it, is the point.

"Oh yeah, they got good shit around here. You do coke? It's more an evening drug, but I do love me some good pure cocaine! Snort a few bumps, go out dancing..."

There's a hum of approval, and the way his lips catch her hands; but it's the last suggestion that really makes Harley's eyes light up. She shifts in the seat, turning until she's straddling Jack's lap proper, hands in his hair and tugging his head backwards.

"God damnit, Jackie-O, why are you so freakin' perfect?" This time it's Harley's teeth that catch against his lip- not hard enough to hurt, she still remembers that comment about the shock collars- just hard enough to feel. "Uh, yeah I want to snort coke and go dancing. That's like one of my favourite things."

It's getting hard to remember the conversation; harder to keep that focus, which she has so much skin she can touch now. Her hips shift against him achingly slow.

"You want the names? Or we planning our date night? For you, I might even wear a dress."

"We're planning date night, god murder talk when we're sober. Can I snort coke off of you? Cuz I love doing that. And I figure the answer's 'yes' cuz we...holy shit, baby doll, we really are a fantastically matched pair of people. You can snort it offa me." He grins wider, fingers at the bare skin at the small of her back.

"I know getting kidnapped to another dimension and biologically altered into a different species sucks bullymong balls, but ya did get to meet me! And there's no other way that was gonna happen, we're separated by a thousand years at least."

And it's so great they do get to meet and do their thing together. Jack's met a lot of cool people, a lot of great chicks here, but Harley...she's kinda like Lu. She's special. A cut above the rest, just right on the same wavelength.

"And you should wear a dress, just because club bathroom sex is way easier with a skirt involved."

"Pants just mean you got to get creative- or flexible." This time the slow roll arches her back into his hands, and a low giggle escapes her mouth.

"Course we can do lines off each other. Maybe in the club bathroom." Her teeth catch at the corner of her lip. "Maybe even during. I'm positive you've been to that party."

The hazy grin goes fond, and Harley's hands slide up into his hair, mussing the carefully combed strands. "It ain't meeting you that's been the problem, Handsome honey. It ain't even so much the kidnapping; I mean I had-" Her voice stops, and Harley's smile flickers. "I, uh- it ain't even the robot thing, not specifically.

"You want to know what it is?" She leans in, her voice going low. "She fucked with me. And nobody fucks with me. Not a whole town of goddamned crooks and mercs who think I'm worth nothing except as someone's ex, and not some washed up, weather-based bitch who likes to play God." Harley's close enough now that her lips brush against Jack's, when she speaks.

"And I'm absolutely going to kill her for it."

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, HANDSOME JACK. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 021.07.222.57 * H.Jack69 has joined 021.07.222.57 <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- sample for when you ban someone <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <USERNAME>** First sentence of message.

no subject

no subject

cw; discussion of kink, sex, and murder

cw; discussion of kink, sex, and murder

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject