[ It's like she can barely leave her room without getting whammied by whatever this weird sexual energy is — which, in normal circumstances, wouldn't be that unwelcome, especially since before arriving on this ship she was having trouble remembering the last time she got laid. Well, before that fun ride in the front of a fire engine with a guy named Charlie, and even that had been kind of a happy accident considering her track record with getting it in on the regular. Here, though, it's like someone's cranked up the horny dial to fifteen and then left it on without any kind of shutoff mode, and Wynonna's only managed to get to her room after at least one inconvenient encounter and one spontaneous displacement into someone else's bed.
So yeah, right now she's not feeling like she might want to be social any time soon because that way could lead to having to ice her junk later, but she also managed to sequester herself in her quarters without any food, which is going to be a problem eventually when she starts getting hungry. Then again, there are food dispensers all over the ship. All she has to do is make her way to one, program a couple days' worth of meals, and get back before anything happens. Easy-peasy, right?
Trying to keep her head down is the plan here, but it becomes a dumber plan when she's leading with her head, rushing out of her room and barreling into something solid before she even gets two feet down the hallway. Only some miracle of balance keeps her from falling right on her ass, and she reaches out to grasp onto a firm set of upper arms to steady herself, swaying forward into the other person's space out of sheer momentum before she looks up into a familiarly roughened expression. ]
more filth event obviously;
So yeah, right now she's not feeling like she might want to be social any time soon because that way could lead to having to ice her junk later, but she also managed to sequester herself in her quarters without any food, which is going to be a problem eventually when she starts getting hungry. Then again, there are food dispensers all over the ship. All she has to do is make her way to one, program a couple days' worth of meals, and get back before anything happens. Easy-peasy, right?
Trying to keep her head down is the plan here, but it becomes a dumber plan when she's leading with her head, rushing out of her room and barreling into something solid before she even gets two feet down the hallway. Only some miracle of balance keeps her from falling right on her ass, and she reaches out to grasp onto a firm set of upper arms to steady herself, swaying forward into the other person's space out of sheer momentum before she looks up into a familiarly roughened expression. ]
Oh, fuck me.