Feb 20 20:05:03 105 PA

From Chronicles

Atticus invited Caliopa for a drink afterwards. Back to his apartment - a two bedroom apartment with a nice living room and kitchen. He walks in, stripping off his body armor with no compunctions - just tshirt and shorts - putting it in the closet with his pack and weapons before making his way to the fridge. "Hrmm, I have beer, and some mead, and some whiskey?" he calls.

Caliopa left her armour in the truck and is dressed in the old t-shirt and jeans, letting herself fall into the grip of the sofa. "Uh, mead I guess..." She calls back, resting her head against the cushions and closing her eyes. "That was... a bit intense."

"Very intense. First time I ever fought something like that," he says. He pours two glasses of mead, walking out of the kitchen and offering it over to Caliopa with a smile, taking a seat on the sofa. He murmurs a sentence in Elven, "May the road be sure and your steps certain," he translates before taking a sip.

Caliopa takes the glass, opening her eyes with a smile. "That's nice..." She wiggles, sitting up a little in the cushions, and resting the glass on her thigh. "Never seen anything like that, even broken." She comments softly, rubbing her face with one hand, tiredly. There are still smudges of dirt on her cheeks and nose and the movement just manages to spread them further.

Atticus frowns and rises to his feet, moving to the kitchen. He comes back with a cool washcloth and puts down his glass, leaning over to begin dabbing at her face - to clean it off gently if she allows. "You're all smudged up. That thing was ... it had tinges of evil, but it just had no emotion, no nothing. It was a black hole, just designed for destruction. It would've killed anyone around it," he offers.

Caliopa closes her eyes and allows the cleaning with a half giggle, wrinkling her nose. "I guess..." She murmurs softly, "More that I'm used to thinking of them like folks, and killing one, it bothers me." She opens brown eyes, slightly wider than normal, "Like killing a folk..."

He finishes the cleaning, leaning in to kiss her cheek lightly. "Don't think of it that way. It's hard for you," he says as he puts the cloth aside. "Because you talk to machines, you can be with them, you know? So it's natural to see it in ways other folks can't. Regular folks. But that thing, there was no reasoning with it. No talking. It had one purpose and one purpose only, you know?"

Caliopa hesitates before nodding slowly, the kiss causing a rise in the colour in her cheeks slightly. "I guess...never would have got a chance, not to ...anyhow I saw what it did with the 'craft. Those folk never got a chance to take a breath." Her wide eyes are fixed on his face, her entire face worried, "I ain't got a clue how the rifts work, but the way those things came ..."

Atticus nods and takes a long sip from his mead. "Well, lets not talk about that now. It's not good, no, but we'll talk about the doc with it tomorrow," he replies. HE takes another sip from his mead,s miling. "You wouldn't have gottena chance - you approach it, it would've killed you outright, Cali. It shot you in the damn back, right?"

Caliopa sips her drink slowly, before nodding hesitantly. "I guess. Still feels wrong, ...guess I should kinda get over it, see them as folks do." She pulls a face, burying her nose in the glass before kicking off her boots and curling her feet under herself. "You don't mind..?"

Atticus shakes his head, "No, no, get comfortable," he adds. He takes a sip, and another sip, leaning back against the couch cushions and sighing, "At least no one got seriously hurt - I mean really badly hurt. Just bumps and bruises, you know?" he adds.

Caliopa curls herself up on the sofa, feet tucked beneath her and cheek snuggled against the cushions. "Yeah... we were lucky, I reckon." She grins suddenly, pulling a face, "Nearly blew us up with that grenade. I was gonna do like they said but then I figured it would blow us all up first..."

Atticus nods, "I don't know much about stuff, but I figure you're right. I think people were just panicked. No one was really in charge and people were shouting out conflicting orders," he says. He smiles, taking a long gulp from his mead and rising - to snag the bottle and return the dishrag, returning to plop down.

Caliopa silently holds out her empty glass, with a half giggle, her cheek still against the cushions. "Seemed Kelley knew what he wanted doing so I just did what he said." She idly fiddles with a strand of hair that fell across her face. "Ain't sure about the shooting much.."

Atticus half fills her glass and half fills his own, taking a small sip from it. "Well, shooting sucks. I'd rather be making love or reading or cooking or having a picnic. But I guess you have to sometimes, you know? Not everything can be fixed with a quick smile and some fast talking," he says with a grin.

Caliopa sips her glass, almost burying her nose in it. "Reckon I'd rather be doing stuff else... mebbe I need to learn to use one of those properly." She giggles, perhaps the mead getting to her, combined with shock, "Be glad I had my eyes open... I wanted to shut them."

"That's a bad idea. I can't really shoot all that well, to be honest," he says. "Take small sips of that stuff - it's pretty heady stuff, I ca get you some water," he adds. "I learned from a gunslinger that was passing through my village. I should learn how to use a rifle I guess, as much as I don't want to."

Wrinkling her nose, Caliopa obediently puts the glass against her thigh, "Tis nice." She tilts her head to look up at him, "Guess we use some of that money to get ourself some lessons in killin'." She pauses and pulls another face, "Mebbe armour." She takes another sip.

Atticus considers and takes another sip, "I dunno. I haven't decided what to do yet. Maybe armor. Maybe some new toys. Maybe just save it for something," he says as he settles back onto the couch, sliding his legs under him and lifting one hand to brush her hair back a bit slightly. "I don't want to go killing robots and dinosaurs for a living, you know?"

Caliopa uses both her hands to roll the glass idle between them, letting him brush her hair back, even tilting her head into the touch slightly, her eyes closing for a second. "I don't ever want to kill one again." There is a fervency to those words that match a shine in her eyes.

"I don't like killing sentient creatures. Unless I absolutely have to and there's no choice and they are straight out evil,' Atticus says, his long fingers still gently playing through her hair,just light and easy. "Robots, I guess robots are different, but the danger is the same and it all just ... blows."

Caliopa rests her cheek against the sofa cushions and shuts her eyes, letting the hair playing carry on. Her mouth curves into a slight smile and her cheeks flush. "When they all tell you stuff, how do you tell which is evil, and which is just made like that by folks..." She opens her eyes, the brown shimmering a little before she blinks. "If you tell a machine to be evil, it does it, like a child."

Atticus smiles, "Well. I'm a little different. I can sense evil, you see. Not the evil in men, no, but I can see their aura, I can see what their true heart is like. So .. I have it a little easier, I think. In the end, you know?" he says as he tilts his head. Still stroking her hair lightly. "But machines, I get it. They are what they are made to be - like a kid, like you said, a kid that was brought up a certain way and knows nothing else," he says. He smiles, tilting his head.

Caliopa nods slightly, barely moving under the stroking, her eyes half closed as she sips the mead, watching him through her lashes. "They can't be else, not with the folks that made them telling them...my old truck, she can't be nothing but a rumblin' old girl." She moves her head slightly, into the touch, a slight turn as if she was about to turn her face into the touch.

Atticus strokes that hair and smiles as he turns his head. He sips at his mead and matches her for long seconds. "I think she's a great old girl. She just goes and goes and goes - like her owner," he says as he tilts his head. "Cali .. I gotta be honest, you're so cute you're about to get kissed, and I think you're a little buzzed and certainly upset and I don't want you freaked out. So ... do something not cute or something," he offers with a grin.

Caliopa opens her eyes wide and blinks, the movement not helping. "Uh?" She speaks helpfully and coherently. "I... uh." She sits up, blushing bright red and ducking her head. The almost automatic swig of the mead goes down the wrong way and she chokes, coughing and going redder.

Atticus leans over, gently patting her back - trying to be helpful, chuckling a bit at her. "See, I didn't mean choke on the mead - a simple belch or a crude joke would've done it," he says with a laugh, tilting his head lightly.

Caliopa shakes her head, coughing again for a moment before turning a red face to his, applying logic to the situation, "You can't kiss me, you're my friend." Hearing the illogic in those words, she takes another quick swig, emptying the glass. "Um." She stares into the empty glass, blushing deeply.