The Engineers had dubbed it "the Snake Pit" for obvious reasons, but even with the darkened corners and jagged rubble forced into the far end, the room of Natasatch's temporary residence felt surprisingly welcoming. A growing collection of odds and ends joined the cot and storage furniture, the spread of thick floor blankets and soft pillows giving the occupants somewhere to relax. An almost festive arrangements of lights kept the dark and grungy atmosphere at bay and warmed the cool metal walls, just the way the main occupant liked it.
The Viper's eyes took all these details in, a sense of contentment blooming in her chest. No amount of Gremlin surveillance or mandatory chaperones could quell her enjoyment of her impromptu den, and she almost worried that XCOM was spoiling her. Sprawled out among the cushions, she resumed reading the human history book in her hands, though Natasatch hoped for something more engaging than how dead humans killed each other because they were born in different countries.
Natasatch wouldn't have to wait long, because only a few moments later, the other regular occupant screwed shut a side panel of a music speaker and stood. Tapping his pocket tablet, the restored speaker's tiny screen blinked to life, prompting the young man to pump his fist excitedly. "Nice!"
Malcolm sat tinkering with among a pile of disassembled stereos, a complete version standing alone among its cannibalized brethren. He had brought a surprising amount of junk to her room in the past two weeks, and she suspected the want of hobby space was half the reason the scavenger spent so much time with her. Still, she enjoyed the surprises he so often brought in, and with how pleased Malcolm looked with this current round of scrap, his own interest piqued hers as well.
Music spilled from the speakers, with surprising clarity due to the wear on the device. It seemed like a melodic series of metallic strums, occasionally accompanied by what she recognized as human clapping and finger snapping. She'd rarely bothered to listen to music humans played before, but even with what she recalled, she never heard anything like it.
"Interested?" Malcolm shifted to one leg, twirling his screwdriver idly.
Her head bobbed slightly, testing the differences caused by each change in position. If she had one thing to thank the ADVENT bio-engineers for, it was the courtesy to grant her kind hearing on par with a human. "Slightly. What is it?"
"It's called 'flamenco.' It's a guitar style that comes from Spain, I think. Sometimes it's fast and loud, sometimes slow and smooth, but it always gets me here-" he tapped his sternum "- you know?"
"What was that thing you mentioned?"
"Spain? Oh, it was a country in Europe, on the western tip of the continent..."
"Actually, I was asking about a 'guitar.'"
Her human friend paused, gave her an odd look, and started giggling. "What? Seriously? It's like one of the most common instruments in the world!"
Natasatch felt her cheeks heat up, and she narrowed her eyes. "Nevermind," she said in a huff.
His laughing fit ended almost as quickly as he begun it, as Malcolm realized he hit a sore spot. His friend was quick to learn, but quick to recoil if she felt provoked.
He walked a bit closer, leaning over as she tried to ignore him and the music. "Uh, hey, I'm sorry. I just at times forget that you had a different upbringing than most of us. I shouldn't have laughed."
She turned one of her eyes to regard him. He asked, "Can you forgive me?"
Natasatch didn't give a verbal response, but her face softened, which he took as a sign of acceptance. He gave her a quick nod, and started to explain how a guitar was a string instrument usually made of wood, and was played by strumming the strings, and other information, but ended up abridging his description when he saw her interest wane.
Even while focusing on her book, the topic of music didn't leave her mind, not helped with the speaker playing in the background. ADVENT had banned many musical styles, like they did with most cultural mainstays that they couldn't exert complete control over. They only tolerated orchestral music, co-opting it to sound inspirational for their military parades, and the electronic played in city clubs, since there wasn't much cultural significance behind it anyway. With that in mind, why would it be so hard to imagine she'd never heard one of those intriguing guitars before? Just another comfort the Elders denied their servants, it seems.
"Hey." Malcolm broke the silence.
She turned to look at Malcolm, who sported a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. "Yes?"
"Do you like the music?"
She shrugged. "Yes, I suppose I do."
That seemed to be enough for him, both human and alien returning back to their respective endeavors, but Natasatch was quite good at distinguishing when she was being watched or not. Slyly rolling her head back, she caught Malcolm grinning like a fool while staring at her. He didn't even stop himself when their eyes met, and she directly addressed him.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Nope."
"Hmm, yet you seem to find something unusually interesting, friend."
Using his screwdriver, he pointed downward. "Your tail."
Her eyes followed his gesture, and to her surprise, the lowest portions of her tail were in motion. Without any input (and without her notice), it swayed as a metronome would with the harmony of the flamenco tunes, the tip even managing to track the rapid falsettas that popped in randomly. Upon notice by their ultimate controller, the Viper's tail stopped, and she looked back at the amused human.
Whatever the human found funny, she didn't follow."Yes, that is my tail."
"That's actually pretty cute."
That word choice took her off guard. Natasatch held no doubts for the reason she was brought into existence, as a shock soldier first and foremost. She had a sleek, elongated body to better avoid damage and close for the kill, a tail of almost nothing but muscles to constrict helpless prey, and unhinging jaw that concealed long, terrible fangs, and an internal poison spitter that able to spread sickness to an entire squad of enemies. If she so chose to, she could easily crush this puny human to death, and he surely must know that, since he'd seen Natasatch put those terrible abilities to use.
Considering her fierce nature, describing Natasatch with a word meaning "delightful and pleasing to view" was, quite frankly, extremely flattering. To succeed on an aesthetic level despite the appearance-focused nature of humans was high praise indeed.
"Thank you for the compliment, Malcolm," Natasatch said, practically beaming.
She averted her eyes suddenly, pondering. She'd seen other humans respond to praise in kind, so wouldn't that be common courtesy? The Viper look backed to him. "You're pretty cute yourself."
It seems Natasatch must have done something wrong, because Malcolm stumbled through a few random sounds while looking away, and she heard the exact opposite of accepting a compliment when she caught a "sorry" in the jumble.
Fairly amusing, but for the moment, she'd rather listen to the music instead of watch her friend's antics. Besides, she'd had her fill of watching him squirm after his earlier insensitive outburst. She closed her book and laid her head down on the cushion, eyes closed lightly as her tail weaved along with the guitar.
Author's Notes: Just so you know, I post these stories first on my tumblr, which often has notes, commentary, or photos that I can't easily post on here. If you use that site, feel free to keep track of it there.