#muse: david

[wolves-of-etoile]

@pen-and-ink-rp sent: "Sign your name, darling, and I’ll make sure no man ever satisfies you the way I do." (From Charlotte 😊)

Attention divided. Pen and ink on the table -- a contract awaiting his signature. The woman before him, her fingertips not quite touching his cheek, but close, so very close that even his tiny hairs yielded to her, her words going straight to his trousers. Really, a third thing existed in the room as well. The door. Escape. But David Weiss thought of it naught. Why should he? He knew her... or he thought he did.

Charlotte. His waystation, his safe harbor in a storm.

A witch? She had to be. Or something else lurked deeper under her skin. How else could the supernatural hunter be tempted so?

But was it really temptation? Something he ought not indulge in for his own safety? Or was it simply loneliness and desire, borne from the cyclical nature of his life?

He hunted, he rested. He hunted, he rested. No one to share the joys and the sorrows with. No one to listen. Except her.

He reached out, pressing those slender fingers against his chin. Real. Solid. Full of snares tantalizing promise. He wanted to kiss those fingers, put them in his mouth, taste her, hear her say his name. He couldn't tear his eyes away, and he was fully aware of the demanding thudding in his chest. He wanted this. Oh, he wanted this.

But a question remained, rasped out of uncertain lips, "Why me?"

[wolves-of-etoile]

@deficd sent: except for you almost dying, i had a lovely evening. (( from ariste :3 ))

David waved the half compliment. An attempted kidnapping and a rooftop chase -- and almost being blown off a roof -- certainly had not been a part of the evening's plans. He wondered if he should start taking such things into account if he wanted to spend time with his friend in the future. An even more compelling thought: was this the norm for her? The daughter of the Red Duke. Surely she must've been a target growing up.

It had been a lovely evening. A lovely meal, a lovely chat, a lovely planning session... a lovely firefight. That must've been a sight: a man careening through the air, partially on fire, then dropping down a sheer building face. Fortunately, a well-timed activation of his suspensor belt managed to arrest his fall before he hit the bottom and spread his precious water all over the pavement. Fortunately, Ariste could hold her own while he made his winding way back to her. "I'm made of a little sterner stuff than your would-be kidnappers." He smiled gently. "But I'm glad to hear you enjoyed it."

"I do hope it won't stir up too much trouble in your House... not that I think they can keep you locked in your room. Any idea who our troublemakers are and why they want you this time? Maybe we should up our timetable." It would be easier to deal with interlopers in the desert. Too many people asked questions in the city. Plus David preferred the wilderness.

[wolves-of-etoile]

@deficd sent: ❝ I have done what I have done to arrive at this point. I have done what I’ve done and I will live with it. But do not for a moment believe that that defines me. I will not be that person. ❞ (( from vera in her star trek verse for david! ))

The fire he hears startles him; and for a moment, David wonders if he has mis-stepped. Like father, like daughter, but also -- very much -- unlike. In that mismatched space, she has revealed to him something very important.

How the children of monsters survive.

Giedi Prime eats its children. Unless they eat as their parents eat, unless they climb on top each other to compete for the best in life -- food, jobs, air -- then they are soft, weak. Prey. How much more true is it for the daughter of its ruler.

David cannot fathom her childhood. He wants to reach out to her, to brush her cheek. He almost stops himself, and he brushes the hair at her temple. The Starfleet officer in him doesn't want to interfere -- or become attached. But the isolation of this world is maddening. And the poisonous air threatens to twist him in ways he doesn't want to be twisted.

"I know you're not like him." He doesn't have to say who the him is. "Were that I could show you rest -- and the worlds outside of Giedi." Where flowers do not have to grow up with thorns or poison or learn how to thrive in darkness.

And for a moment of defiance, he believes he can.

Steal her away.

Steal her.

Steal.

Starfleet does not steal. But no one is coming for him. What does he have to lose?

[wolves-of-etoile]

@deficd sent: you have no idea what these hands have done. (( feyd in his star trek verse for david! ))

David gives his "host" a puzzled look. He does not say the question strongest in his mind: Are you serious? No, Starfleet is more politic than that. He is more courteous than that. Plus, David has not yet fully learned the grounds on which he stands. His limbs may not be tied up, but he is still stranded on Giedi Prime -- a prisoner. No one is coming for you. Get used to it. "Should I not look outside then?

His dinner knife slices through a cut of tender meat. He admits it is delectable. How many people labored and toiled in the poisonous air so that their Harkonnen rulers could eat well? "I see a world transformed by your rule. No small feat, no matter where you stand on ideology. I am sure your success did not come without sacrifice."

Of course, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen could have meant that literally. How many people did he personally kill, maim, destroy the livelihood of to get where he is today? The Prime Directive prevented David from interfering and Starfleet officers treated the Prime Directive like toilet paper at their own risk -- though it was not unheard of. The civilized side of the officer hates this man; but then, he hated himself too for not acting.

He risks the question. Such heavy dinner topics. But what else was he to do? "Would you care to enlighten me?"

[wolves-of-etoile]

@deficd sent “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. ( Murmur/Vera for David in Dispatch-verse )

[📱] So I am clearing out a nest of Ch'aad cultists rn.

[📱] The job is -mostly- done, but I'm happy to share the reward if you can help me take down this demon.

[📱] If it will sweeten the deal, I don't have any clothes on.

[wolves-of-etoile]

@annatars-nine-rings sent: *slips a hand into his* "Will you take a walk with me?" (from Charlotte, Southern Gothic Supernatural AU)

"Of course, dear Charlotte." David squeezed her hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. The forest still had a cool but misty quality about it. The heat of the day was not for several hours yet. It was a nice morning for a walk.

The hunter was passing though the forest again, and he always enjoyed a short detour to stop at Charlotte's place for a while. Life on the road could be a lonely one.

"Something on your mind? I've missed you, these past few weeks." He glanced at her occasionally, admiring her features.

[wolves-of-etoile]

@deficd sent: this is not how i wanted this to go. (( khan for david! ))

There was a certain hour -- especially this far out in the country -- where no one went out for anything lest they have an encounter. (Was that not how his life was changed?) It was supposed to be the time of deep stillness anyway, the hours just before dawn, where even the drunkards finally retired to sleep the morning away. Instead the air was choked with the stench of smoke, blood, and death. A village blotted off the face of the earth. No one would find the husk for weeks or months, at least, long after animals had picked the bones clean and the rains washed away the evidence. Even then, who would pass by this way again, after writing off the hapless as unlucky or cursed.

Two figures surveyed the carnage, part of it, yet apart. Was that regret he heard in the other's voice? Or was it simply a statement of fact?

David pursed his lips, tense. Perhaps he should have feared. Instead, he felt a heavy dread in the pit of his gut. Now what? The question went unvoiced as his mind raced down the various paths of the future.

[wolves-of-etoile]

@horror-of-madness-rp sent: [ LIGHT ]: sender lights receiver's cigarette/candle/etc. (Charlotte, reverse)

Sleight of hand had been a hobby of his... in life. The lighter casually slipped out of his sleeve, seeming to materialize in his hand. He lit the lady's cigarette smoothly. "Let me get that for you," David said genially.

She was fascinating to watch and pleasing to the eye to boot. But not only fascinating. There was something about her that tugged upon his mark. Did she sense it? He dared not asked -- not anyone. Who would ever believe a dead man walking?

"Has anyone ever told you how enchanting you are?" It was not merely one of his more charming lines, but a real question.