they could be? not ever, ever in her experience. granted, this is a little out of her wheelhouse. rocket missions are for jack-of-all-trades grunts or folks strapped for cash. parker wouldn't say she gets paid well, but it's enough, and she lives modestly. more than modestly. she'd slept on an air mattress until recently because she couldn't justify the cost.

her dumpster mattress isn't really a step up, now that she thinks about it. and she'd be mortified to tell nomi - hold your mudsdale, parker. fuck.

the alcohol's really chug-chug-chugging its way through her brain right now. she wobbles on the stool, snickers to herself, and her phone gives a buzz. her stool's front legs slam down and she reaches for the screen while isaac ponders. 

is grinning like a fool and is thinking of nomi in her New Bikini when isaac talks again. her eyes light up. 

"it will! 'cause you're gonna help me. since i'm shit at this. and if it goes wrong, i'll just hate ya the rest of my life. howzat sound?"

Isaac Merlo

☉

it's an eerie sentence and it sends a shiver down parker's back, but that could also be because nomi sounds small when she says it. scared. and there's fuck-all parker can do about it. it's not like she can punch the uncertainty out of nomi's head. she hooks her fingers around the back of her own neck, arm hanging, feeling small while nomi looks at her for answers parker doesn't have. 

"i wouldn't," parker admits. she knows she's a fucking simp. if someone could actually stomach her for the long game, she'd lock that bitch down as fast as possible (in the most feminist way possible). but she's hard-pressed to believe she fell in love and got married during their nappy time at the ancient tomb. 

"of me?" she squints at the handwriting. the ink is all gathered and blotchy. it looks like a toddler tried to finger-paint. parker goes looking for a pen and paper, and finds both, and writes the same thing down for nomi to see. 

the argument could be made that they have similarities, but this test handwriting is cramped and way more legible than what's in nomi's journal. 

"i mean, i kinda see it? have you talked to anyone else that was there? they come back with these crazy souvenirs too? maybe zacian punked us."

Naomi Sato

☉

oh, nomi texts her back almost immediately. and DID SHE SAY TOSES? oh, good. nomi figured it out. lavender? parker likes the smell of lavender. her body wash and shampoo is more masc, but every once in a while, when her shoulder's bothering her, she'll soak in the bath with some lavender salts. 

oh, wonderful. now she's thinking about sharing a lavender bath salt bath with nomi.

and completely forgetting where she is, 'cause she's grinning like an idiot down at her phone. she is completely oblivious to the emotional turmoil going on in isaac's brain. which is fine. she's not equipped to deal with that anyway. 

cygne bothwell. 

yay! they're in the clear! they don't match! she looks up from her phone and over to isaac's, giving an appreciative whistle. her brows furrow as he swipes through the photos though, because she misses that and then has to remind herself she's never had that. 

parker flicks her phone screen off and sets it facedown on the bar. she kicks her barstool up, balancing on the back legs with her hands steadied on the bar top.

"wish these missions 'ere always like this, man. kinda nice not bein' a solo act for once."

Isaac Merlo

☉

parker doesn't know how to explain the ring or the gut feelings that come with it. all she knows is that it feels sacrilege to take it off, that she might become less of herself if she were to ever lose it. but it's so frustrating, because whenever she reaches for it, it's like second nature.

she looks at it in the mirror and she feels she is missing something. a hungry, aching something. 

but she can't say any of that, not without sounding crazy. surprise colors her, though, when nomi fingers it and then exclaims that she has a drawing of it in her journal. her brows furrow. the way she says it...doesn't make any sense. 

"you guess you were workin' on? nomes, don't take this the wrong way, but you're crazy 'bout your research. y'wouldn't just...forget it."

she raises a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, wrinkling. there is a pressure there, a last-ditch effort of her fraying mind to keep itself together. there are others who remember more, who damn well remember everything, but parker doesn't do otherworldly. parker doesn't think about her shit. so it's safer, promises the softer parts of her brain, to not remember.

"wedding band, eh? think i got hitched 'an forgot?" she says with a laugh.

"oh hey - that's funny." she points to a crude drawing of tits in the margins of the journal with some god-awful, blotchy handwriting that says infuse me with energy tn, babes?

Naomi Sato

☉

"isaac," she mutters once under her breath. and despite the tipsiness and the brain fog that follows, she'll remember it. she's good like that, remembering faces and the names attached to them. comes with the job, really. at the end, she makes sure to add a, "nice to finally meetcha."

spoken for. 

oh, shyet. okay, that's good news. 'cause parker's pretty sure if isaac and nomi ever got to talking on the rocket sub, they'd hit it off like two peas in a pod and nomi might look at him with that moony-eyed stare she has on her face sometimes (that she has on when she's looking at you, parker, you dolt). 

"engineer?" she says and tries to think about that. does engineer = scientist? is it one of those things where, like, all engineers are scientists, but not all scientists are engineers? from the way nomi's talked about her research before and with all the misty stuff, she doesn't think it makes her an 'engineer.'

but then he says she's a total stunner: check. has a laugh that lights up the room: check. and is definitely one of the smartest girls he's ever met. check, check, check. 

he hands her phone back and she still looks troubled. "her name's not - " she catches herself, mmm's a little bit, and then rephrases: "what's 'er name? 'cause my girl's the smartest girl ever too." 

it's then she notices the notification from millie. ugh. take a hint, girl, pleaseeee. the message chain gets swiped into the trash yet again. right underneath it, though, is nomi's name. and she can't resist. something gives her the courage to rapidly type a move isaac told her she shouldn't do earlier.

Isaac Merlo

☉

he gets brownie points immediately. one point for ordering another round for them - hell yeah, more bro time (because she's a lonely POS) - and a second point for the drink being as damn delicious as it looked. not many people she knows care for all this sugar. or the hangover that follows. 

point threeee for the actual advice he gives her. she's nodding her head with the straw in her mouth, wide-eyed and entranced, half-listening in the way that the tipsy mind can only manage, but the feeling is there. the important snippets, the bits that mean the most, that are making her feel things - like courage, for one, are so bright and tangible.

"dunno if i've ever been called a breeze," she says with a snort. 

tell him about her? but she wants to keep nomi all to herself. and besides, there's a very good reason why she shouldn't be talking about nomi so blasé, right? she is, after all, a very important person whose life now hinges on parker's unwavering loyalty to rocket.

she hesitates and this time the confliction is there on her face. there is a different fear in her eyes, not of the moony-eyed scare of rejection, but real terror.

"shit, sorry." she sets her drink down. cracks her knuckles nervously. "i don't even know your name and here i am spillin' my damn relationship troubles on ya." her leg twinges. a painful reminder of the cost of her slip-up. 

"maybe i'll tell ya 'bout 'er when ya teach me how to make one a these puppies." she juts a chin towards the hurricane. "can't risk ya sweepin' her off her feet from me 'fore i shoot my shot, y'know?"

still, for his sake, she tugs her phone out of her pocket and pulls up the screen to add a new contact. she slides it over to him with a grin and picks her drink back up, missing the message notification that pops up at the top of the screen.

from millie:
wyd tonight? miss u 😛

Isaac Merlo

☉

no wonder this guy swindled his way in as a bartender so easily. he's got an easy, silver-tongued charm about him, but without the heebie jeebies. the smart part of parker's brain is ringing alarm bells and telling her don't you damn let down your guard, but after several drinks, that's been muffled by the ingenious thought: this guy's cool as fuck.

"'buncha rums' is literally my motto," she says, and her tongue is a bit thick in her mouth now, but in that buzzed, syrupy-sweet kind of way. noticeable, but endearingly so.

"oh yeah?" she says and lets go of the straw she had been mindlessly nibbling on. she scoots a little closer to isaac. the bar stool squeaks as it shuffles over the floor, adding to the hundreds of pre-existing scratches from buzzed patrons like her. 

"okay. i like ya, so lend me yer ear for a sec. i got game, right? and there was this girl i was into and i thought she was into me, and we fucked and all and it was good. like good. and i'm like, 'oh shit, i kinda like her,' right?

"an' i thought she was into me too. long story short - i was hella wrong. think i fucked that one up pretty good. an' then there's the sea witch, but she's taken, but she fucks with my head, y'know?

"but all that aside, like, it doesn't even matter, 'cause i don't think about 'em anymore. there's this girl an' she's so good, dude. no fuckin' way she ain't got someone like the sea witch does. an' if not that, what if i shoot my shot an' i'm reading it wrong, right? like the first time."

she drains the rest of her drink and shakes her head. "y'think a brewery trip'll really impress some'ne?"

Isaac Merlo

☉

well, ain't that the truth. but parker would be out a job if she didn't ask questions. questions like - where's the money, bax? when are we gonna get the money, liz? how many fingers i gotta break 'fore ya tell me what you told those officers? 

her questions always needed answering or there'd be someone bigger and meaner asking her the same damn things. 

"yeah, worth it," she says with a wolfish grin, happy to shrug the more melancholy thoughts away in lieu of another sip of her drink. isaac's own drink looks fan-fucking-tasting though and she admires it unabashedly. 

parker jones is a solo act. all she needs is herself and, on rare occasion, her blaziken. sometimes she's not sure which of 'em scare their clients more. she doesn't really do jobs like this. up until recently, she's been doing just dandy keeping her nose out of rocket's shit and minding her own business. 

being a small cog in the machine has never bothered her. but the faction war in the ultra deep sea, her tango with Cillian Quinn, and a certain adorable scientist have pretty much blown up whatever stress-free life of crime she thought she had. 

"don't really got a number two, but - " and then she stops. is her work with nomi, like, classified? should she really be sharing that stuff with her partner? she's so out of the loop, she doesn't even know if he's above her station. 

this could be a test, for all she knows (but gods, she hopes it's not). either way, better to play it safe. if not for her, then for nomi. 

"don't count me out like that," she finishes, albeit a tad late. "i hit like a brick, but i ain't stupid. now, what the hell are you drinkin'? 'cause i think i need two."

Isaac Merlo

☉