Indie rp blog for Drummer from The Expanse. Written by Penny. Activity varies vastly. Canon, au & crossover friendly. 18+ required. 21+ preferred. Triggering content may be present. Multi verse / multi ship. Follows back from @theexpansefcrged. WIP.

blake kathryn
Keni

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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

#extradirty
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@factionfcrged
Indie rp blog for Drummer from The Expanse. Written by Penny. Activity varies vastly. Canon, au & crossover friendly. 18+ required. 21+ preferred. Triggering content may be present. Multi verse / multi ship. Follows back from @theexpansefcrged. WIP.
@factionfcrged said, " come back to bed "
in the few days since he'd been released from the medical bay, hale's head had been swimming between elation and terror. something was growing within one of his partners that would eventually look to him as a father figure. on the other hand, nightmares still reminded him of all the blood on his hands. once, they'd been so bad he had to crawl out of bed and into the corner just to curl into a fetal position.
but, that's not what pulls him from bed this particular time. in such a short amount of time he'd become used to the pile of four they'd become, even if it was a little tight. yet, two were missing. there was a josep and michio spaced hole in the middle of the bed that represented the one in his aching chest. without thinking, hale threw his legs over the side to see where they were.
camina gently grabbed his wrist, though. he forgot that a lot of her edges were verbal and she wasn't always like a blade. heavy with sleep, the ship's captain was soft curves and whispers.
staring down, he's tempted to gently pull away to continue on his quest and go look for michio, if only to make sure everything was okay with the baby.
do not ask me to lose another piece of my heart....
" yeah, " hale smiles. " okay. "
the bed dips beneath his knee but only briefly. long legs follow and slip beneath the blankets, closing the distance between them so hale can throw an arm over her hips.
" i'll always come back, you know. i was too fucked up to say it earlier but i'm not going anywhere now. "
a sharp snap wasn't enough to make hale completely silent. for once there were no sarcastic quips and no way for him to brush off his emotions with a joke. he was stripped to the bone, bare in front of drummer like a medical experiment. the only sound from his lips was his inability to stop the sobs. sobs that wracked his entire body and shook him down to the marrow. ugly, wet sounds that accompanied the spit that dribbled past the corner of his lip. the last time he'd cried with such abandon was when he found out his brother was dead and even then the loss had been different.
" i know, " the bartender wipes harshly with the back of his hand. he can barely hold himself up but he needed to try for the sake of drummer supporting some of his weight, even if it was lessened by the lower gravity of the ship. " you think i don't understand how that pretty bastard works? that's why i still didn't tell him anything but that doesn't mean.... "
there's a hollow in his chest where his heart used to be. this large gaping hole like the vacuum of space, sucking all the happiness right down into the center to leave him only with hatred and despair.
" that doesn't mean he doesn't make valid points sometimes, " amber eyes look up again. there's a plea he's trying to convey but not even hale knows all of what he's trying to say. let me go. " you yourself told me once pa is too soft...she's going to hate me for letting it happen. for letting all those people die for the sake of her. for you and josep. you can't tell me she won't. "
She's not as soft as she used to be. But that isn't what she says. "She's stronger than I gave her credit for." There's guilt in that, too. "And she could never hate you. She loves you." She tried to urge him back towards the bed. He was bleeding again, fresh blood staining one of the bandages, and that was just what she could see on the outside. "We love you." If he wanted to think it was a lie, she couldn't stop him. She should have said it before. Made it clear, before. "You are part of our family, and we do not abandon our family."
One hand shifted, to wipe away the beads of tears that clung to his lashes and cheeks. "I will not abandon you, Hale." There is an ache, in her words, a tremor in her chin, that she struggles to resolve. "Do not ask me to lose another piece of my heart." There is grief, and guilt, and misery, enough, already, to bleed her dry -- but she doesn't say that part either.
just thinking about michio seeing him had his heart beating faster and faster. the stupid machine started beeping in time with his heightened heart rate so he yanked and pulled until all the noise stopped. only when his body was still, nothing but the race of his pulse in his chest, that he realizes he's started crying again. lava rolls down only to float away. his teeth clench as the voice of marco repeats itself over and over and over again.
" no, " the bottle of water is pushed away and hale tries to throw his useless legs over the side of the medical bed. if camina wasn't going to do anything to protect michio from him then he was going to do it himself. even if that meant going out an airlock. hale refused to cause her anymore pain. after serge? after oksana and bertold just up and left? hale wasn't going to be the last straw.
" i did things, " if it weren't for the sharp pain in his side he would've stood. as it was, weakened knees tried to hold up the partial weight of his body but even that has him crumpling down to the floor. " the things i let happen because they got tired of kicking my ass. " usually he was so good at hiding behind the mask he'd created for himself. hells knew he'd been pretty good at it when he and camina started going at it. he didn't think they'd last. they weren't supposed to last. hale didn't deserve that kind of emotion in his life and he certainly hadn't deserved michio before all this shit happened.
now?
" she's never going to look at me the same. you're both going to hate me, drummer. just dump me off somewhere if you don't think you can hide me from her. i won't survive her looking at me that way. you look at me like that all the time anyway. but pa? no. nonono. "
There's a stream of silent curses as he starts to pull at the leads, and she's trying to stop him, trying to restrain him without hurting him worse than he already was -- as it was, she barely managed to catch him at the elbow and shoulder to keep him from crashing entirely to the floor, and even at low g at their current slow speed, it wasn't exactly an easy thing to manage.
"Hale --" The words he spoke stuck like a knife in her side, a twinge of pain and guilt dancing over her already strained features, hidden away behind her own stern mask as quickly as they had come. Drummer. Pa. Exhaustion and righteous fury aimed at Marco Inaros were the only things that kept the tears back. "Enough." It's sharp, and snapped, and maybe it's exactly the wrong thing to say in exactly the worst way possible.
She's on her knees beside him, in front of him, her hand catching carefully at the side of his face, trying to make sure he could not avoid her, ignore her. "You survived. That is all I care about." A bitter truth, and one that did not come without a cost, but no one survived war intact. "I know what he did." Anger and rage, with nowhere to go, coated those words. "And I know he would have killed them all, no matter what you did, or said, or didn't. They were inyalowda, wellwalla -- he would have found an excuse, another reason to justify their blood, and to find someone else's hands to paint it on. It is what he does."
đȘor 'armâ // sender forces receiverâs arm behind their back // @factionfcrged
Split lips twist into a smile, a sneer, exposing blood lined teeth. No attention is spared to the woman at his back; it's focused on the man before him, aimed, primed to pull the trigger. Takes a step to finish the job before being yanked back, a dog on a leash.
A leer. He spits at the other man's feet.
"See you again real soon, yeah?"
@factionfcrged sent, đ  //  push my muse against a wall .
camina fell into that category of does she want to fuck me or kill me every time they're together. it's exhilarating in a way that all power is. she could break him in half and he'd gladly say thank you, ma'am. although, he understands it's a lifetime of pain to get her there just like it took his lifetime to become what he was. hale wouldn't change her for the world. in fact, he wanted to wrap himself in her very essence and take it in with every breath. he wanted to worship the power she wielded and kneel before her like the devoted to an idol.
the only problem he had with her? was not being able to tell if she was mad or sad. whatever mask she held before her was rivaled to the one he always had close to his chest. hypocrite that he was, it made hale sad that he couldn't tell.
a forearm presses across his chest, forcing him into the wall behind him. the bartender's brain is trying to process if this was sexy, take me now time or the world needs to burn time. either way he'd take her, just as she was. hale wanted all of it. the mad, the sad, the failures, and the glory. what started as a desire to be stepped on and broken transformed into something dangerously close to love.
not that he'd say it out loud.
" i need a little direction on which way to take this, babe, " hale flashes a grin but it doesn't hold it's usual sass. he's concentrating a little too hard on whatever micro expression he'd be able to pick up.
hands raise to cup drummer's cheeks between his hands. " talk to me. "
@factionfcrged sent, ( help ) - for the senderâs muse to patch the receiverâs muse up .
marco had done a number on him. well, technically, hale had sarcastically and methodically done all this damage to himself. he refused to give up anything on the family even if he knew more than just seeing camina on tycho for a few minutes. not even that passed through his lips, though. hale didn't give a shit about his own safety and he meant it. as long as the free navy didn't know where the dewalt or it's inhabitants were? he'd die a happy man.
except, by some miracle, hale hadn't died at all.
the how is a little fuzzy in his head. all he knows is he woke up to drummer's face. a face that he, admittedly, told to fuck right off because he'd thought it was either a fever dream or a joke. she wasn't.
and hale slept.
he slept for the first time since finding himself in marco's less than hospitable care.
hale hissed at the injection of something into his system. " hey, " he forced through the taste of copper on his tongue. " mich can't see me like this, okay? whatever you do... ah fuck, " hale hissed again. all that damage to his body and he couldn't handle the sting of antiseptic? or whatever happened to be sliding across his skin just then? he realized he actually had no idea how anything medical worked in space proper. the extent of his experience thus far had been mikkah yelling at him after every bar fight bad enough to send him into her care.
oh, and that lack of gravity was very bad for blood flow.
" i'm also really, really sorry for calling you a fuckhead. " there's a heavy weight in his chest like whenever he was sick with a cold. only, he wasn't sick and he didn't want to entertain thoughts of what was stuck in there. " i was a lot more creative in the beginning, i swear. just...lost a little steam on my name-calling. "
She supposed it was fortunate for all involved that Hale had been unconscious for the majority of the transport from their rendezvous, back to the Dewalt. It had given Arthur's doctor friend time to look him over without them having to fight him down, or put him out. Mikkah's expression had been less than comforting, but Drummer had done her best to keep her lips sealed and let the woman work without asking questions that would only distract her.
The small shuttle that she'd borrowed from Arthur to get Hale home - which she'd promised to return - had allowed her to not have to fight him into a vac suit for the final leg to the medical bay on board their ship. She'd been too thoroughly occupied with getting him transitioned, and changing the dressings according to Mikkah's directions, to give herself much time to think. Which she was grateful for.
"If you think I can keep her out of here, once she learns you are back home, I think you do not know her as well as you think you do," she replied. "But - I will see what I can do." His last words garnish a half snort, and a shake of her head. "Yes -- I was a little bit disappointed you could not come up with something more ... original, but I suppose I will let it slide," Camina replies, a tight lipped smile offered as she placed the last of the bandages, stepping back to the head of the medical bay bed to let it lift him into a slightly reclined position. "This time." She adds, before pressing a bottle of water into his hand. "Drink. Slowly."
Oil paints on cold-pressed watercolour block. Camina Drummer from The Expanse, portrayed by Cara Gee.
The Expanse - 6x04
THE EXPANSE | 6x06 -Â âBabylonâs Ashesâ
eyebrows crease together at the images now filling the space between them, reminding him a lot of what he used to see when she ran security on the station. if he had to guess they were either paths sheâd taken to get to him or would have to take to get out. maybe a combination of both. last he knew, quitting didnât mean sheâd been exiled from the ship. heâd thought camina and fred were still on pretty decent terms.
there was very clearly a large chunk of the conversation he was missing. trouble was looking for them, that much he could put together. why else for the lack of communication, the way her shoulders set, and all the camera angles?
haleâs missing so many pieces of the conversation it actually makes him silent. itâs not until camina starts talking again that things start falling into place. not everything, probably not everything by a long shot, but enough to ebb his consfusion.
â cam, i⊠â the bartenderâs jaw drops at the news of her husband. in an instant heâs up off the couch and standing in front of her with hands on her cheeks. to say he felt like an asshole for raising his voice was an understatement. â i am so fucking sorry. â
another piece comes from news of oksana and bertold. â return to the free navy⊠â his words hang so he can work through them. the silence feels like itâs stretches into forever but part of the difficulty comes from believing what his brain is thinking. you had to be part of something before going back to it. â you guys had to join marcoâs navy. thatâs why i havenât heard from you. finding out about your earther boyfriend wouldnât exactly go over with the whole anti-inner movement. god. fuck⊠â
for once, he doesnât wait for her to make the first move before his arms envelop her. theyâre loose enough to step out of if she really wanted to but also tight enough that he feels like heâs offering some comfort.
â donât worry about me. they wonât get anything because i donât know anything. i never saw you. never heard from you. take care of your family. â
There's a sound -- a sharp and cracking laugh that bubbles out of her, that escapes in a burst, that catches her so off guard that she finds herself pulling away, a hand pinning across her mouth as if she could take it back, swallow it down. As if she could take any of it back.
Her chest heaves, once, twice, before her hand falls away. "Take care -- take care of mi family?" There's something wild, feral that creases her brow, that sharpens her gaze and her words. It's anger, and so much more, and she knows it isn't aimed at him, but it's bleeding, pouring out of her at all the broken edges that she'd been trying to hold together with stubbornness and detachment since Naomi. Since leaving Tycho.
Fingers clench into a fist at her side, digging into her hip, stiff knees and back and shoulders and jaw. She wanted to scream. To rage. To wail. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, to bury her head in his neck and breathe in the scent of him, and pretend for one moment that all of this was just a bad dream.
"Yes. I promised our fealty. I saw no other way." The words were brittle, again. Short. Almost hollow. "We traded crew. Serge for -- " A viper. "One of Marco's people. He sent us to salvage the ship floating with corpses of the last that had refused him." A warning. A reminder. "I should have left then. I should have taken the ones that wanted to not be part of this fight, but I waited too long. Until he sent us to war. To use Naomi as bait. To destroy the Rocinante."
"I knew what it would cost, to defy him, and I did it anyways. I knew what he would do to mi famili and I did it anyways." Her jaw ached with the pressure of the howl that was suffocating her. "We are all dead. All of us. Serge, for him, at least, it was quick." As quick as death by airlock could ever be. "The rest of us? MIchio. Josep. You -- if he finds you, if he learns what you mean to us, to Michio -- he will make an example of you. We are welwala, you -- he will do to you all the things he could not do to Holden. You have to go. You have to go. It is not safe for you. His people are everywhere."
under normal circumstances, being pushed with such force would turn him on faster than he could take the next breath. especially when it was camina drummer doing said pushing. but, this? this was different. everything from her rigid movements to the gloss over her eyes ( had she been crying? ) raised alarms that this was not a social visit. or, at least, not one of the sexual kind.
hale wants to yell that sheâs not. he wants to scream that heâd been fucking worried about everyone and all he got was a iâm fine? what kind of bullshit was that? she was worse than he was at masks, though. there were so many layers between her and her emotions that up was down and right was left.
so, he bites his tongue and lets her make her circle within his small little apartment wishing that he meant enough for at least a fuck off before they all shut him out.
â what? â hale canât keep the upset or the attitude out of his voice. at least it was better than yelling, though.
maybe.
â no. â the bartender clenches his jaw and resigns himself to plopping down into the couch before he uses his body to push right back. not that heâd raise a hand against camina but his long limbs could do a lot of flailing when he was feeling particularly dramatic. â some dipshit asked about serge the other day and i told him i donât know how the fuck anyone is because i havenât heard from you inâŠ.whatever the fuck space time itâs been since someone last said hi. then desi told me to watch my ass with everything going on. that didnât strike me as weird because look at all the shit happening. â
so, hale managed not to yell but his words got a little more flavorful than he wouldâve liked when he finally saw drummer again. both palms rub over his face as a reminder to breathe.
â is michi okay? where is everyone? â
Fingers slide and flick across the hand terminal again, swiping a selection of security feed camera views into the center of the room so that she could see them from any angle - it might be the first time she found herself grateful that the security teams in place after she'd quit had not been as good at their job as she would have been. The back doors she'd installed were, at least for now, still secure, and so far as she knew, had not been detected. The cameras to the hall that his hole was on, the docking bay her repurposed shuttle had been docked at and a few other key access points could be monitored from here, and hopefully give her enough time to know if she'd been compromised.
If someone had recognized her, and ratted her out.
The feeling of nausea and fire in her stomach sat heavy, and aching, as it had in the days since she'd been left with no choice but to defy Karal, and Marco.
There's a half of an exhale, some of the brittleness easing from her shoulders, once she's certain the room is secure, once she has her eye on ingress and egress routes. Lashes slip closed for a moment, processing his words, a harsh lump swallowed down in her throat as he mentions Serge. A half breath in, rattling, aching. "Serge is --" Lashes part, her glossy gaze unfocused, staring at the wall behind him through the distraction of the station images that glittered in light and shadow between them. "Dead."
"Bertold and Oksana left." The words are rigid. "I do not know where they have gone. Perhaps they intend to return to the Free Navy, to bend the knee and beg for whatever it is that Marco Inaros has that passes for mercy."
Stinging, bitterness coats those words. Anger and ire and vengeance and pain and guilt and loss and grief are a tangled knot in her chest, but she does not have the time for those things now. "Michio and Josep are safe. For now. They are on the Dewalt, holding, off station, running dark." Even her words are off. Her dialect, her accent, her voice, are too well known, too recognizable to the people on Tycho, and the stiff Earther words felt wrong on her tongue.