Spaced Out

Watch Her Take Pleasure From The Serpent That Once Corrupted Man

The concoction doctor Puu made for Lily really kicked in when she headed back to her room with her Physical Dream bag. In the curving passage, limbs became clumsy. Medicines in her system slowed her reactions and jumbled her coordination. She caught herself on the lustule studded walls four times. She fought the urge to curl up on the cool tile and fall asleep right there.

The corridor distorted in her chemical addled vision. Surroundings tilted, so she tilted with them, walking on a diagonal, following her skewed perception until she slipped inside her quarters.

Lily peeled off her barriersuit. She spun around her already whirling room. Besides her organic bunk-nook there was no furniture in the room. No place to put her new clothes or her Archivist. Balling up the suit, she shoved it into her bag which she stowed by her bunk before pulling on Vortrand's oversized undershirt and crawling under the comforter.

In her sproingy wall cubby, she slept until another of the drink's side effects prodded her awake. While the sweet medicine muzzed her senses it also dried out her mouth. After a quarter of an ard tossing and turning, she threw off her comforter, dangled her legs over the side of her bunk, and smacked her cracked lips. Scooting from her bed, she padded to the door and peeked outside.

The hallway was empty. After all the problems she caused, she really didn't want to run into anyone right now.

The floor no longer tilted while she slogged to the top tier. The remnants of the concoction made her insides floaty. Everything seemed removed like she watched a recording of herself negotiating her surroundings. A couple circuits around the passenger level grounded her then she climbed to the topmost tier. In the entrance to the kitchen, she froze.

With his back to the counter, Vortrand cradled a storage container in one arm and fisted a spoon in his free hand. Hair hung loose over the shorn sides of his head in a tangled mess. A pair of mostly unbuttoned trousers covered his lower half and that was it. The fly of his pants flapped open like a loosened shirt collar. Bare feet peeked from the cuffs. He curved over the container, scraping up the dregs of stew it contained. A quiet gasp of surprise at his presence, undress, and his ravenous behavior escaped Lily.

The noise snapped up Vortrand's head. With the spoon halfway to his mouth, he cast a sidelong glance at the interloper halted in the doorway. Under a glassy gaze, Lily fidgeted.

"I, uh, just wanted something to drink," she mumbled. Uncertain hands twisted the front of the white shirt she wore. At Vortrand's continued observation and quiet, she finally got annoyed and dismissed him with a grunt and a shrug of her shoulders. She strode to the cold storage unit and activated the HOptic lock. Let him stare. She had every right to be here.

Frosty air from the refrigerated unit lifted the hairs on her arms and legs. Goosepimples rose on her uncovered flesh and her nipples smarted at the temperature plunge. The tips of her breasts peaked against the soft undershirt draping her. She retrieved a sealed water pitcher and set it on the counter outside.

Vortrand's pale form fuzzed in her periphery. Eyes trained forward. She would not peek at him. Opening one of the overhead cabinets, she reached for the cups fastened by rows of metal clips. Just as her fingertips brushed a glass, the captain said, "Pour one for me." She heard him set down the container. The spoon clattered when he tossed it on the counter.