mofi | duplicity

He can claim whatever he likes, but that's still an order on his lips. What can she do but obey? Even looking at him, her gaze moves everywhere but his eyes. To the bruising on his throat. The unhappy shape of his mouth. Someone had already given him the worst of it. Her heart was beating in her chest like it was trying for its own escape.

She didn't really want to think about it. Gilgamesh was right, wasn't he? Her voice is soft, less steady than she'd like. "I must have," She hadn't held on to her resolve to say no, had she?

The kettle choses just that moment to go off, and she flinches at the shrill whistle. Unfortunately, the kettle flinches, too, sliding a few inches away from her on the counter.

"You must have?" His face twists, sours. "What does that even mean? Shouldn't that be something you remember?"

The whistle captures his attention for a fleeting moment and only offers it a quick sidelong glance before his eyes tick back over to Pandora. Murphy leans over to put the kettle onto something that's not directly onto the counter.

"Who's your dominant?"

Pandora is very, very still. She takes a breath and wonders if he's going to react the same way that Waver did. "Gilgamesh. I - Uh, I guess King Gilgamesh-"

There are so many kings here. She's met at least three. "And I do- I mean I do remember. It's just- It's complicated."

"Gilgamesh. What the hell kind of name is Gilgamesh?" If Murphy hasn't made judgments on her dom before (and he has), then he does now. "Sounds like a pretentious asshole to me," he adds.

"Tell me about it." Murphy shrugs and goes back to his lean against the counter, arms fold and rest on his chest.

It's impossible to keep all the wariness out of her expression. Pandora had never been very good at lying and that extended to her body language.

He didn't seem like he was going to do anything physical - which had been a concern for a moment ,- but she was very confused by his focus on this topic.

She reaches for the kettle, to have something to do even if that's just making the tea. "Why? It's an... a nonevent. Do you just not know how contracts work?"

Oops, that was a bit mouthy. Her teeth press into her bottom lip.

Murphy scoots himself a little bit out of the way to give her room to prepare tea for them. He affords her a side eye, watching her pour water into the mugs, over sachets of chamomile.

His jaw visibly tenses when she speaks up again. Her voice may be small but her words had a way of being sharp. This is the second time she cuts him. "I know how they work." A beat later, "Raven and I are discussing the contract. Making sure its something we both want and agree on. Doesn't sound like that's what your dominant did."

Pandora is oblivious to the impact of that one little question. For all the benefits telepathy gives her, she's not really all that socially savvy. She's not even sure if he means a Raven she's talked to. She thinks there might have been one in passing, but this place was large and she was mostly ignorant of the interactions outside of the small number of people she interacted with.

So when she's says - "That's good", she means it. If Murphy is going to be kind and he's going to make sure that his submissive is comfortable with the process, then it's good. There is a measure of safety in being contracted, and she firmly believes that if one has to choice to go with someone safe, they should seize the opportunity.

Otherwise-

"That possessive pronoun isn't being used correctly." This isn't so much a decree from the top as the way she's noticed things work. "He's not mine. I'm his. Possession travels one way." She picks up the plate, stepping over to the microwave to warm up the cookies. As long as he doesn't stop her, going about the domestic things is soothing. "And- well, no. I mean-"

How does she explain it succinctly? "He was right that I wasn't going to be able to ... hold my resolve to say no." Then, a little quieter. "I said yes in the end."

Sometimes she looks at him as though he is speaking in a foreign language. It worries him because maybe he actually did say something stupid. The expressions on her face are always hard to decipher which makes it worse.

Murphy raises a brow, gives her a questioning look. "You're his," he doesn't sound convinced at all. "That's not how that works." It's something he doesn't want to point out but he does so anyway. "You can bullshit anyone else but I'm the best at bullshitting so try again."

His gaze follows her, watching her slip into this domestic role so naturally. "He forced you." Murphy can feel his blood boiling, anger rising to the surface. "Where the hell does he live?"

That was exactly how it worked, to her experience. Gilgamesh could be generous. She had a warm place to sleep. She wasn't struggling to feed herself. She was also fairly sure that if she tried to make a mutual claim, to restrict his movements in any way, she'd be well-educated on it being exactly how that worked.

That is to say, possession only traveled on way.

She really didn't have to be a telepath to realize that he was angry, but she is and the heat of it is scalding. Uncomfortable, and alarming. She turns to look at him, angling herself automatically so that she's not against the counter. The second surge of panic leaves her lips numb and her fingers cold.

Murphy directing that anger at Gilgamesh would be the worst possible choice. That's a 'Murphy dead and Pandora explaining why' situation. That's so not good.

"No." The word trembles. "No, I said yes." Eventually. Irrelevant. In that moment, she decides redirecting his anger is the best option. "Are you so lacking in troubles now, that you've decided to go dig into someone else's?"

Usually, in most cases, Murphy is the plan first and react later sort, but over the years that's slowly worn away. The breakup with Emori damaged a lot of him, especially his psyche.

"Did you want to say yes? Did you say no and he pushed you until you said yes? Because who have got to be some kind of warped to think you willingly signed that contract." He just keeps digging and digging, sticking his nose into things that doesn't pertain to him.

He cares, though. Murphy's not sure why he cares so much. This need to protect her. Unknowingly, it's something that he needs. He wants to be good at something. He was useless up in space. He wasn't an engineer or a scientist. Hell, Murphy isn't that great of a speller. All he did was watch everyone work and make stupid jokes.

Murphy watched everyone help and he slowly drifted into the background.

He did nothing to get them back down onto the ground.

"So you are in trouble."

Gosh. He really wasn't going to let go of it. She gapes at him a moment.

Anything she says is going to just escalate the situation. She's a terrible liar to begin with, but he's busy stripping her of all the comforting not-quite-lies she'd told herself.

She doesn't know what to say. She doesn't quite understand how they'd gotten to this point or how to get out of it. All she knows is that if he confronts Gilgamesh, that's it. Event horizon.

"Leave it alone." She wants it to be an order but it's more of a pleas. " I don't see why you're so- so interested. It doesn't matter. I- I did this to myself so don't waste your time-" There has to be a right string of words to get him off the subject, right? Right?

Pandora is crumbling and all Murphy wants to do is catch the pieces and hope he can put her back together. He's pushing this for a reason even he can't understand why just yet.

"I can't," he whispers. "And I won't." Maybe it's because Murphy could see himself when he looks at her. Blaming herself for the situation she found herself tangled in. He blamed himself, too. Almost thought he may have been asking for what had been done to him.

There was a moment where Emori blamed him.

"Listen," his voice goes soft. "If you need help just tell me. I don't know what I can do but I want to help. It's not a waste of time. I don't want some asshole taking advantage of you." He takes the plate from her hands, sets it onto the counter because tea and cookies were the last things on his mind now.

"You're here so you must trust me. Even if it's just a little bit."

There's a fine tremble to her hands. Really, it's too much emotion to keep to herself and she's fighting to squash it. Strong emotions were dangerous. Even as she reminds herself of that, she can feel her eyes prickle. Her vision swims as she tries to blink and then hold her eyes wide. Crying would be counter productive.

What would Magda do?

She really wishes she could ask.

"I don't," she says, keeping her gaze on the counter because it was safer than looking up at him. "I don't. Everyone speaks so prettily around here in the moment, but as soon as they decide they want something, they're all the same."

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