multiversallogs | Would it be too cliche to quote Bad Romance here?

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Would it be too cliche to quote Bad Romance here?

Who: Rex and Odessa
What: A DATE
Where: Rex's lab
When: One evening
Notes: Witness two people who really shouldn't be together.
Warnings: None yet; will update if need be.

Rex has never been on a conventional date before. Well, that's not strictly true. He and Iago had certainly gone out many times while in Baedal-- when they had the money-- but that was already an established relationship, so he hardly counted it. They had a... routine. Rex often knew where things were going to go, because they had time on their side.

With Odessa, things are different. New and unexplored. Open, even, what with the entire city at their fingertips. No longer does Rex have to improvise like he did with Wichita, constrained by the limitations of prison.

And yet, old habits are hard to break. Rather than go out to one of the many restaurants the city has to offer, Rex works with what he has: his lab. Bunsen burners are lit for ambiance, a bottle of wine and two glasses are set out on one of the tables and, to top things off, his briefcase sits next to the setup. It's a simple setup on the surface, but as far as Rex is concerned, there's nothing simplistic about his decision to let Odessa in on his most precious project.

Nanomites, the fast track to romance.

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Odessa's experience with dating is arguably less than Rex's, to be honest. Relationships, in her mind, aren't something she's built for. All the same, the fact that Rex is willing to give this - and her - a shot is something she's intrigued by. Call it an experiment. A social experiment. It's for science, okay?

When she pops in, it's in the stairwell. She allows the click of her heels on the steps to announce her arrival just as surely as if she'd knocked. "Hope you're ready~" she sing-songs.

Reaching the lab proper, she sees the set-up meant to create the appropriately romantic atmosphere, a wide smile slowly spreads across her face and her eyes get large. "Oh, Rex," she breathes out appreciatively. "This is wonderful."

Rex is reading the label on the wine bottle-- what little there is to read-- when he hears the click of Odessa's shoes in the stairwell. Setting the bottle down, he glances up, taking in her decidedly spring-y outfit. He pulls his gaze further upward, taking notice of her new hair color. A little closer to Wichita's in this dim light... Whether that's good or bad, he doesn't know yet. Regardless, Odessa is still, decidedly, Odessa. As much as a part of him would probably like to, he can't conflate the two twins with each other. Her scars, setting her apart from Wichita and any other woman he knows, are positively beautiful. Rex walks over to the bottom of the stairwell to meet her, holding out a hand to walk her the rest of the way down. Not that she needs it, but he assumes it's the gentlemanly thing to do.

He really doesn't date much at all.

"I know they say you should never mix business with pleasure, but..." He smirks. "I couldn't resist." After a beat, he adds, "You look lovely."

There's a soft giggle when he offers his hand, and she takes it. It's slightly nervous, but that's overshadowed by giddiness. "Thank you." For the hand and the compliment. Odessa takes another moment to take it all in again, still quite obviously pleased with his efforts.

"They are wrong anyway. Sometimes the business itself is a pleasure." Mad science is a labour of love, after all. Interest creates a light in her eyes. "You have a project to show me?"

"One I'm quite proud of, in fact," he remarks lightly, walking over to the briefcase. He pauses at the latches, then turns to Odessa. "Oh. I've got wine. Do you want a glass after... your adventure the other night?" Her adventure, which Rex will never ever let her forget. It's not the first time he's ever been drunk dialed, but Odessa's call was certainly the most amusing. Much more than his fellow soldiers' whenever they were on leave together.

Rex reaches over to the bottle and holds it up slightly canted to the side. He's sure it doesn't look particularly tantalizing right now, but, well, this is one of those "things to do" when one is on a date, as he understands it. Rex is gonna try to be as suave as he can for as long as possible.

The urge is there to bury her face in her hands, but Odessa admirably keeps her chin up and settles for just blushing. "Maybe just a liiiittle." Fingers held up a smidgen apart demonstratively. "This is a special occasion, after all." Even if she's horribly embarrassed about the exploits of that evening, and knows that she will continue to be horribly embarrassed for as long as the both of them shall live, she is enjoying herself.

She makes her approach languidly, eyes on the case and whatever secrets it holds inside for a long moment before she seems to remember that she's here for Rex. It's a pleasant thing to remember, if the way her scarred mouth crooks upward at one corner is any indication.

"You still have to show me your tattoo," Rex teases as he produces a corkscrew to open the wine bottle with. Pouring two glasses-- just a liiiittle for Odessa-- his eyes drift over to the briefcase again. He's as fixated on it as he is Odessa. But then, he's confident she understands that science is something his partners will always have to share him with. After all, Rex suspects that she's much the same herself.

It's part of the appeal.

He turns to offer Odessa her glass, then motions to the briefcase again. A toast should be in order, but it slips his mind as he takes a hasty sip and moves his free fingers over the latches on the case.

If he remembered to toast, it probably would've been: "To science!"

"And now for a little taste of home..." he murmurs, carefully opening the case. Inside are a few medical tools and, nestled alongside them, a foreboding looking syringe. It's Rex's pride and joy.

Probably understandably, Odessa takes a couple seconds before she brings her own glass to her lips. The sip of wine is experimental. Fortunately, it wasn't what she was drinking on the night she got that magic tattoo she hasn't shown off yet. When her stomach doesn't churn or show any signs of revolt, she relaxes. Though she didn't realise she'd been tense at all.

Worries about alcohol aversion are put aside quickly as the latches clack and Rex lifts open the briefcase. What would seem insidious to some -- Well, it still seems insidious to Odessa, but she happens to like that sort of thing. "Well, well, well... What's all this?" She quirks a brow then reaches toward the contents, stopping just short when she remembers that she can't just play with toys that aren't hers. "May I?"

Normally, Rex's answer would be "No." Look, but don't touch. But Odessa's a kindred spirit, somebody who would treat his tools with the reverence they deserve. He runs his fingers over the syringe, touching the glass cylinder lightly, then nods.

"Be my guest." It's a date, after all.

He withdraws his fingers from the syringe, then turns to Odessa. "They're nanomites." That 's' is dragged out slightly, not for effect, but out of habit. "Versatile little helpers. I perfected them back home."

"Nanomites," Odessa repeats as she lifts the syringe from the case and turns it over in her hand. There's a sort of wonder in her eye, not quite unlike a child on Christmas. "This is beautiful."

Long fingers stroke over the vial loaded into the needle gun almost lovingly. "Perfected it?" That's something she can appreciate. Perfection takes time. It takes effort, and dedication. It takes a lot of pride. She looks up again, curious. "So what did you design them to do, precisely?"

Rex walks behind Odessa, looking over her shoulder at the nanomites. "They serve multiple functions. Sophisticated warheads designed to target metal and infrastructure, leaving human life intact." Such a humanitarian. "When injected into soldiers, my nanomites could suppress certain regions of the brain-- morality, fear, pain, all things of the past. Augmentation of strength, muscle and tissue repair, defenses against venoms and poisons... Those are just some potential applications of nanomites. With enough ingenuity, creativity, one can do just about anything with them."

The device is settled back into its proper place before Odessa turns around and leans back against the table. "Impressive. Such versatility... Just as you said." Not that she ever doubted him for a moment. "But I'm curious." She bites her lip, more thoughtful than coy, before she finds his gaze. "Could you make people like me? Grant them powers and abilities?"

Because that's always ended so well in the past where she's from.

"In certain cases," he concedes, taking a sip of his wine. Rex leans over to place the glass beside the briefcase, moving his body close to Odessa's briefly. "Given the proper resources and access to people with abilities." He's done it in the past, with mixed success. Abilities more... magical in nature always eluded him, resulted in disaster. Genetic abilities, on the other hand, had been easier to unlock. All he needs is enough time to truly study people with abilities, map out their unique genetic structure, isolate what grants them powers and program the nanomites to mimic those abilities. He can't truly replicate powers, but he can come close.

"But don't ask me to create any wizards," he remarks with a snort. "Magic, it seems, is incompatible with the technology."

Not that it's going to stop him from trying to figure out how to mass produce nanomites using magic.

"Would you like access?" Such a layered question. She reaches up to smooth over Rex's collar, is if it had needed adjusting. "I could give you all the access you want." Her fingers trail down his shoulder briefly before she lifts her hand away. There's a quiet huff of laughter when he mentions wizards. She hasn't fully formed her opinion of them yet, but she's fairly certain they deserve to be considered lower on the food chain than she is.

"What made you decide to take on this project anyway? Not just a lucrative government contract, I take it."

"An all-access pass?" A slow grin spreads across his features, and Rex places his hands on the table, one on either side of Odessa. "That's a generous offer. I could do a lot with that." In theory, anyway. If he had his nanomite production going at any sort of capacity whatsoever. Right now, there's only the one syringe, the "Destro" batch, which he wouldn't inflict on Odessa unless it became necessary... Not that he can see a scenario where it would be particularly poetic to give her an "iron mask."

Rex shrugs one shoulder. "Opportunity." To be honest, he hadn't had much of a choice. It was MARS or death, and he wasn't ready to die just yet. Still, nobody had to twist his arm to make him agree. The opportunity to work with nanomites was tempting enough, regardless of whether he owed his life to James McCullen. "I was invited to sign on with the project for a... private employer. it was beyond anything the government, the military, had been working on. I wouldn't have dreamed of saying no. Could you?"

Her head cants to one side as he rests his hands along side her. It's a dance she enjoys, especially with someone who seems to know the steps. But there's a slow sadness that seems to settle in as he explains his motivations. It sounds familiar, but she was never so much invited as she was conscripted. "No," she agrees with a shake of her head. "I didn't say no." Every time. "Life is all about opportunity, isn't it?"

"Exactly," he murmurs, studying Odessa's face. Any sadness that might register in her expression is lost to him. Rex and empathy don't often go well together. It isn't that he doesn't want to empathize with others-- or even that he can't-- so much as feelings tend to fly right by him unless they're made blatant. Instead, Rex lingers on the scars, tempted to touch them, gingerly, but refraining. He knows he'd find it irritating if somebody reached out and grabbed his own scars, after all.

Not that he has them anymore. It's still strange to think about, so he pushes it from his mind, makes certain to meet her eyes.

"We make the best with what we're given," he says with a slight smile. "And turn it into something incredible."

The way he looks at her - what he chooses to focus on - isn't lost on her the way her subtle emotion is on him. In a way, she's glad that he doesn't pick up on it. That gladness comes at his expense, however. It's much easier to deceive someone who isn't good at catching the little tells, isn't it? Not that she's looking to deceive him just yet, just like he wouldn't use this batch of nanomites on her. Yet.

But that he looks at her scars twists something in her stomach. It's involuntary, completely fuelled by her own insecurity. And it's unfair to him. But reading minds isn't one of her gifts. "We certainly do." Her gaze falls, as though she's suddenly interested in the buttons on his shirt. "Potential aside, did you want to take the job?"

Rex notices her gaze shifting downward, and he clears his throat a little, suddenly feeling awkward, and glances aside, himself. "I wanted it before it was even on the table," he admits. "But to be honest, I wasn't given much of a choice. It was just..." He waves a hand. "Fortunate. That I already wanted what they were offering."

A shame he had to get blown up for the offer to even arise. He would have preferred to have pursued his studies fully intact. Rex reaches up to rub the back of his neck. "They gave me an opportunity that I couldn't have had anywhere else, to truly live up to my potential. I consider myself lucky."

Yes, even that accident of his, the pain and misery and near destruction of his body was worth it in the end. He would have done everything the same if he had to, if only for the opportunity to work with his nanomites again.

"Must be nice, getting what you want just handed to you." It's more an observation than it is any bitterness directed at Rex. He's too driven, by her assessment, to be used to having everything come easily to him.

Odessa's eyes, slightly mismatched, snaps up again. "So the nanomites... They aren't for you." Not a question. The question is, "Why? Haven't you ever wanted to be better than you are? Would you make the perfect soldier, but neglect yourself?"

"I paid a heavy price for the privilege," he snorts, backing up slightly, moving his hands behind his back. His eyes move to the nanomites once again. "But no... They're not for me. I wouldn't--" He hesitates, considering what to say. "There's nothing they can offer me. My body's... what it is, and my mind works best unfettered from outside influences." The less Rex is reliant on, the better.

"Besides, I prefer to be the one holding the reins."

It's something Odessa doesn't understand, being content with being a baseline human. In another life, she would, or she did, but not for the right reasons. There isn't a lot that Odessa does for the right reasons. "Nothing? You wouldn't want to be stronger? Or... I don't know, jump a hundred feet into the air or have super speed?" Her lips twitch faintly like a smile, "I have no doubts about your acuity. Your mind, I'm sure, needs no alteration. But... there's more, isn't there? More you could want?"

She pauses then and looks not quite uncertain, but like she realises what she's doing. "Sorry."

Rex's mouth twitches. Superpowers haven't been an interest of his since he was a child-- that is, granting himself powers. And besides, having been on the Barge, temporarily experiencing a "gift" of physical strength, enhanced senses, healing, the works, all given to him against his will by an insane vampire, he's been there, done that. The power was intoxicating, certainly, but it came at too great a price for him to be worth anything.

"It's fine," he says, perhaps a little too quickly. "Physical strength's overrated. I just don't want to be dependent on anything but myself. Even nanomites aren't... infallible." As he knows all too well from experience. "Yet," he adds with a smirk.

Edited 2012-04-29 01:44 (UTC)

"Soon enough, right?" For all that Odessa tells herself that she's superior, she's still uncomfortable in her own skin, always second guessing herself. And she's letting it bleed over. She doesn't like it. Too much introspection is dangerous where she's concerned.

"You wanna see my tattoo?" Bracing her hands on the table, she lifts herself up off the floor so she can seat herself on its surface. It seems a good diversion from their differing philosophies. Stretching out her bare leg should only help that. "It's on my ankle."

Rex is grateful for the change in subject, especially since this particular change involves the tattoo he'd heard so much about. And it involves... leg... bearing. He can get used to that.

"And here I thought you were going to hide it forever," he muses. He reaches out to support her leg, touching her ankle gingerly as he turns her foot to get a good look at it.

Well.

It's definitely real. And sparkly. And everything Odessa advertised it to be.

Rex lets out a laugh and releases her foot, moving back to lean against one of the other tables. "You've made me so happy I didn't go out that night."

The laughter brings a much needed break to the tension and Odessa returns it in kind. "Oh, you missed out. You too could be glow in the dark!" She tilts her head from one side to the other, considering for a moment. "Or not, because you don't teleport and you wouldn't have tried to do it while trashed, and thus you probably would not have misjudged distance and dropped into a moonpool." Her eyes cast upward briefly. "Or you may have, because I may have dragged you along.

"Back to your original assertion that it's good you didn't come along." She crosses her legs and clasps her hands over her knee. "It's definitely for the best. You got the highlights in your messages without having to see me that sloppy."

Edited (lol discovered a typo MANY HOURS LATER) 2012-04-29 17:53 (UTC)

"Moonpool?" Because that's the thing to take away from this. Rex crosses his arms casually, chuckling softly. "Ah yes, the highlights. Like you telling me how much men suck. Sloppy or not, at least it sounds like you had fun. Who else was there?"

Odessa winces and puts her head down. "I didn't mean that, what I said about men. I just... I was really scared that you didn't like me." You see? Completely rational. Right?

She looks up then without tilting her chin upward again. "But you do like me, don't you?" Never mind who else was there. That is absolutely irrelevant and possibly incriminating. She bats her mascara-laden lashes, hoping he'll forget all about it.

Rex laughs, shrugging his shoulders loosely. "I didn't mind it. My gender can be a pain." And that's all Rex is going to say about that. He doesn't really want to call attention to the fact that this is coming from the experience of having argued with his one and only boyfriend all the time.

He moves forward again, hands planting on either side of Odessa. He leans in close, lowers his head, his lips grazing against hers lightly. "What do you think?"

"So can mine," Odessa acquiesces. She's had more than her fair share of arguments with her girlfriend back where she comes from. "Humans," she scoffs with amusement. "So problematic."

She watches him close in almost as if she finds that amusing as well. There's also that instinct to try to read his face for any sign that there's something more to his movements than it appears to be on the surface. There will never be a part of her that doesn't expect the bite of a syringe or knife, or the blunt digging of a gun's barrel between her ribs to punctuate the moment.

Not that it would even manage to kill the mood.

All the same, he can claim the victory of making the first move. In a motion that's vaguely like a lunge, Odessa reaches up to plant her hands on either side of his face as she presses her lips to his. Hard. After all, she's been waiting for this for a while.

There's something deeply, profoundly fucked up about kissing Wichita's twin like this, and that does nothing to stop Rex from doing it anyway. He shifts his hands, moving them to her hips. His teeth scrape against her lower lip in a light bite, both eager and aggressive. It's been entirely too long since he's done this. There's something familiar about this, and it feels right, calls him back to a time when things were so much worse-- hopeless, even. All except for one bright spot. Kissing Odessa feels like coming home.

And yet it doesn't. Once he closes his eyes, everything changes. This is somebody else. For all her superficial similarities to Wichita, Odessa is unique. He's never met anybody like her before-- the closest person he can point to, in fact, is himself. Perhaps he's bringing his narcissism to a whole new level.

Whatever this is-- narcissism, projection, simple attraction-- Rex enjoys it. He follows that hard kiss up with another, slightly gentler one, pushing all thoughts from his mind.

Edited 2012-05-08 01:12 (UTC)

If she'd been smart, or maybe nicer, Odessa would have backed off the moment Rex confessed to her that Wichita wasn't just someone he used to know, but his ex. It is definitely profoundly fucked up, and she can't bring herself to care about that, either.

If anything, she's capitalising on it. Consciously.

There could be any number of insecurities brought to mind in this moment, from the thought that he's kissed her double, and more. Odessa pushes them down in favour of enjoying this moment. Her hands slide down to rest against his chest and a sigh escapes her lips when they finally part from his. "We should probably... get your project packed up and set aside before something truly tragic happens."

Science before sex.

"Oh."

Oh. And just like that, Rex remembers why he didn't lose his virginity until the Barge. Science. His first priority. Sex may be enjoyable, but it's ultimately a distraction, one that leads people to make sloppy mistakes.

"Priorities."

He quickly disengages, moving over to snap his briefcase shut and move it onto a table at the far end of the room.

There.

Much better.

Edited 2012-05-08 01:37 (UTC)

Odessa takes that opportunity to move the wine bottle and glasses and make sure she isn't likely to knock over any of the Bunsen burners while Rex secures his precious nanomites. "Priorities," she agrees." She wasn't much younger than him when she turned in her v-card, either.

She's smiling almost devilishly when he makes his way back to her, having reclaimed her seat on the table again. "Now... Where were we?" Her index fingers hook through the loops of his belt, tugging him toward her gently.

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Would it be too cliche to quote Bad Romance here?

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TINYTAG, I'M SORRY.

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