youwonscience: (know why)
Cosima Niehaus ([personal profile] youwonscience) wrote2016-06-10 07:44 am
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IC Inbox

animated gif of Cosima reading on her laptop and smoking

Incoming messages and correspondence for Cosima Niehaus
limier: ([ green: are you shitting me ])

action;

[personal profile] limier 2018-07-06 06:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ They're on a boat.

Specifically — in one, in the cargo hold, with a locked door back up and a whole lot of crates. Preparing for the Imperium, checking supplies, whatever. For some reason or another, they're both down here, and for the reason of poor planning and an even more poorly-timed lunch break by Bill the sailor, they're also now definitely locked inside.

Wren presses the side of her jaw, looks between sending crystal and Cosima,
]

No one is answering.

[ Of course they aren't. Enjoy the boat. ]
Edited (mixes up character tics) 2018-07-06 06:29 (UTC)
limier: ([ blueblack: confused ])

[personal profile] limier 2018-07-16 10:54 am (UTC)(link)
If we must, we can break the door.

[ Possibly. Maybe. She’s pretty sure it’s been reinforced, but Cosima doesn’t need to know that. Wren heaves down to the edge of a crate. ]

I do not imagine it will come to that.

[ Not that it does much for the probable hours between. Cosima's... fine. Unobjectionable. As Rifters go, one of the useful ones, for all she might protest the designation. But they’ve both work to do, and it’s stifling hot, and something about the tilt of that face keeps dragging her attention away.

Deja vu? No. Just the nettle of something she ought to have thought of by now,

Probably Amsel. She slips off a glove, comes up from some pocket with a battered-looking flask. Takes a second glance over, squints. The gaze lingers far too long, brow still furrowed half a minute later. Can’t place it.

And then, Orlesian:
]

I've lost my fucking mind,

[ What a blessing that would be. She wouldn't have to go to work. ]