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[ukan]

This is Lark Tennant, leave a message.

[Or a note, or a drop-by]

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[crab_rangoon]

He takes the picture and smiles before handing it back. She's tough. That makes sense. She'd have to be to keep up with Lark.

"I never wondered that, but I suppose if I was going to put someone with you, it would be that sort of woman. What happened?"

[ukan]

"We ran a few jobs together. Stole things from wardens, since even she couldn't hack into communicators. That's what she was at home with computers...a genius." A literal genius, even if no one in her life gave her the chance to hone it.

"I was a monk then, basically. But the second she decided she trusted me enough to drag me to bed," a shrug. "She was the sort of person you could fear, but if she let you see her as she was... I was helpless."

He puts the communicator away after a brief glance at her face, her piercings, her bare shoulder. "Anyway, then she disappeared one day. The Admiral sent her back to die. And that was the end."

[crab_rangoon]

The stutter of a breath, stomach clenching. It's the one thing that Pagan fears -- the Admiral sending him away. He doesn't know if he goes to die or if he goes somewhere else. Maybe he ends up just disappearing off to face the demons of Shangri La. Either way, the notion of simply vanishing at the whims of the Admiral scares him more than he outwardly cares to admit.

He takes a drink.

"Fascinating prison love stories," he says, but his tone suggests something a lot less flippant than his words. "I loved Steve, in my own way. I hate him more, though. And that's what I will end up carrying with me."

[ukan]

"Hate is a more useful tool than love," Lark says, carefully packing Lisbeth away in his mind, focusing instead on his life now. On Pagan. "But would you rather love him?"

[crab_rangoon]

"No," he says finally. "No, I think I'll take the hate. I have only truly loved one person in my life and I'd rather keep that emotion unspoiled for her. Because she deserved it."

He hesitates.

"Perhaps that breach was not so useless," he muses softly. "That other poor bastard knew what love was, at least. And he knew it quickly. Right on sight." It was pure and clear. There was no denying what it was like. No years of hate and anger to muddy the waters, diluting affection into something that is so entwined with vitriol that resentment and love become indistinguishable.

[ukan]

It's another of many moments where Lark is surprised, pleased, with how Pagan reaches a conclusion. One thing he judges people deeply on is whether or not they can make use of misfortune. Most people do not. Especially not the people on the Barge.

"Was it anything familiar to you?"

[crab_rangoon]

He looks up to him. "You know it was, Lark. Don't make me say it."

[ukan]

"I won't." He doesn't need to hear it; the important part is simply that Pagan recognizes it. "What I want to know--and don't need to hear, if you don't need to say--is what you can take away from it. It doesn't have to be life-altering, but...it's a waste to simply ignore something because it's uncomfortable. You're smarter than that."

[crab_rangoon]

Pagan's frown deepens at that. "I'm not saying it." Because he doesn't want to talk about Ishwari today. And he doesn't want to talk about how good that feeling was. How nothing has compared to it. To being accepted exactly as he is.

"Are we done finding meanings?"

[ukan]

"You don't need to." He frowns, and shifts subjects. "The reason I don't like the 'meanings', or the 'lessons', or whatever most people call it is because it implies someone was orchestrating it. The Admiral sure as hell isn't. People here are so eager to blame... I know I was. I don't get the sense that you do, though. Am I wrong?"

[crab_rangoon]

"No, no. I've been here almost a year, Lark. Long enough to understand that the Admiral doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. That there isn't any meaning except for what we can figure out ourselves, and that we're all, well, equally fucked," he explains.

[ukan]

"I wouldn't say equally," he murmurs. "Wardens always have the option of leaving, no matter how many insist they can't because of their deal."

[crab_rangoon]

"Well, there is that, but most of you are too noble to do it," he points out.

[ukan]

A short laugh. "Noble is not a word I'd use to describe myself."

[crab_rangoon]

"Not you. But if you leave, you know I'll find a way to fucking kill you. And with good reason," he smiles.

[ukan]

"If I leave, I encourage you to hunt me down." He's smiling, too, finding a strange and wild comfort in this threat. He isn't afraid of being sent away; he's terrified now that Pagan will be. But he doesn't say it, superstitiously holding it silent.

[crab_rangoon]

Pagan is, too. It's better if he threatens Lark. It's better not to think about it.

"Good." He looks like he might move for a dismissal, but hesitates. "Mm, I have a favor for you, warden," he says sweetly.

[ukan]

"What, another?" Teasing. Pagan asks very little of him except for time, and time is something Lark is determined to give him regardless of what else he's doing. "Go ahead."

[crab_rangoon]

"As many as I can squeeze out of you," he tells him with more than a hint of a laugh.

"A guitar."

[ukan]

"I didn't know you play." But he's perked up. Tennis balls and music, Pagan, and you have his full attention with either one. "Acoustic or electric?"

[crab_rangoon]

"I don't. Fitz is going to teach me. And...acoustic for now, I suppose."

He raises a shoulder in a shrug. "I suppose I should try and find a new hobby."

[ukan]

He's curious all over again about Fitz, but he's had no particular reason besides Pagan to get to know him. Better to keep his distance, he figures; no one needs their warden hovering around.

"I play too, but I've heard Fitz now and then. He's better than I am."

[crab_rangoon]

"He uses the skill to pick up dates," he says with a roll of his eyes. "But I can't deny that he has talent. And it is something I always wanted to learn. So that's all I want from you. A working gun and a guitar. I feel like that's not too much to ask from my warden who is so devoted to me."

[ukan]

"Devoted? If you asked around they'd say I worship you," Lark sighs. He sets his cup on the table. "All right. I'll go put in the requests, the guitar is a guarantee but don't be surprised if the gun isn't granted right away."

[crab_rangoon]

That earns Lark a bit of a smile. He knows he's mostly teasing, but it's nice to hear.

The second part gets an understanding nod. "I don't expect so. If not, then perhaps we can find something at a port and you can simply...let me keep what I find?" he wonders.