If you see me shivering,
do not call it fear.
This is tectonics, symphonics-
my bones have found a resonance
and will not be letting go.
By the end of the half-hour, all three of them were panting. Cu Chulainn bent over when Xigbar's voice barked an end to their pepper, his head dropping-not his grin though. That stayed-Kalypso could see it, a little crooked thing just for himself, as his ribs swelled with each hard breath.
They had run him pretty ragged. Clearly he did not mind.
Kalypso was half-blind with envy. Please, please could she play now, wailed her bones and her heart. Abarai had his hands on his hips, leaning back, head tipped back to gulp air. Duibhne shoved sweaty curls out of his eyes as he went for water.
"You dead, Cu Chulainn?" Redford called cheerfully.
Cu Chulainn, hands on his knees, looked up and flapped a hand at the setter. His grin still had that mad dog curl to it.
"G'job," added Abarai, and shocked Kalypso by stepping up to Cu Chulainn and actually shoving his head back down, tousling his hair like he was a dog.
She braced for the insult of that to sear out of Cu Chulainn in a poisonous Flare-a Dominion doing that to another Dominion, that was not gonna go over well…
Nothing happened, except Cu Chulainn shoving his head a bit against Abarai's hand. The middle followed his counterpart for water, and Redford said, quietly, from much nearer to Kalypso than she thought he was, "You can relax, Kalypso. He's like that, on the court. Everyone's puppy." Before she could respond to that, Redford was stepping past her toward the libero. "Get to the drinking hole yourself, man, before you keel over."
Cu Chulainn straightened at last. His red gaze caught on Kalypso-they were back to being drill-bits, at least in their kinetic energy. "How'd you like the look of us, gal?"
If he'd said 'me' instead of 'us', she might have bristled. But his shoulders were open, his chin tilted, his eyes circling the now-empty court before coming back to hers.
She had very much liked the look of them. Well, no, that wasn't right. She had been frustrated, critical, impatient, jaded, but in the midst of that river of resentful feelings had floated little flecks of gold. She had not liked them much at all, but in tiny little sunburst moments, while they played, she had loved them.
Abarai and Cu Chulainn, at least.
The Lamb thing to do was tell him that. Kalypso felt her chemistry yearning for his face to light up at her praise, for him to stand taller and draw her closer, to be his cause for celebration.
So she certainly was not going to say anything of the sort. "Made me wanna-"
Cu Chulainn's laugh barked out, echoing through the gym. "Play," he interrupted-finished, for her. "I fucking thought it might."
"Hah." It did not even occur to Kalypso to be bothered by Redford's little breath of amusement, no matter how he meant it. She was busy being…slightly…
Everyone's puppy. Was that what he was being? Her chest felt strange. The torrent of Lamb-driven dopamine did not feel quite so hateful, at the moment.
Kalypso broke eye contact, pointed herself at the court and at the ceiling, shucking the distraction of Cu Chulainn and his startling insight into her feelings. He was right. She was more than ready to play. "Put me in, Coach," she called, to wherever the speaker was.
"Aye," agreed Redford behind her.
"It just so happens, that's the plan. Ixora, hit the court. Duibhne, Abarai, you might as well stay in here off-court. Maybe you'll even take notes."
"Oy, Abarai," called Cu Chulainn from behind her. "I'll spell you. I know the iron's calling you-"
"Get your ass to the conditioning gym, Cu Chulainn. Redford, you with him."
"Eh?" Something flinty in Redford's tone made Kalypso both distance herself and face him, ducking under the neck so she had space and didn't have her back exposed. "You can't be serious."
"Out, Redford. Don't waste my time."
Kalypso took several more steps backward as Redford's Flare roared back to life. Served her right for taking half a second to maybe, actually consider enjoying some of these people.
When that amber eye slid onto her, Kalypso bit her cheek. Against the electric burn of his chemistry catalyzing hers, she couldn't even feel the pain. A bad, bad sign.
That eye narrowed. His Flare abruptly retreated, sliding off her skin like mercury-and then he was striding out of the gym, vanishing through the locker room door.
Awash in a cold sweat from that sudden assault, Kalypso felt the other three Dominions now. They had all gone tense, she realized, all Flaring, but all keeping themselves leashed-or maybe exertion dulled their output, like it dulled her sensitivity? Either way, Redford had drowned them out, but now that he was gone, she could feel Abarai and Duibhne crackling with tension, and Cu Chulainn was wrapped in a smooth mantle of Dominion intent that was utterly at odds with the amicable good cheer he'd shown to the room at large just a moment ago.
She didn't know why, at all.
Think about each other, in the context of each other. Every time she tried to do that, it just confused her more. Well, she knew herself, at least-and there was one person she could put in the context of herself right now from which she could draw a satisfying conclusion.
At least Redford wanted to play today. That was great.
They crossed paths in the locker room-and Gilbert cast his eye past one and seized hard upon the other. "Right. Jaegerjaquez."
"What?" The response came out terse and tense. He wasn't quite listening-the outside was shoving on his shoes, his focus clearly on the door to the gym, beyond which the court and his setter-of-the-moment waited.
"Fuck this one up, and God help you." Looming over Grimmjow, Gilbert did not so much as spare Yang a glance, despite the way the other outside was watching him, golden eyes glittering.
That threat got a low hiss and a flash of white teeth.
"Have a little faith." An arm slung over Gilbert's shoulders, a playful punch in the direction of Grimmjow's, a red-eyed grin arcing down between them like a guillotine. "Ixora can take a couple fuck-ups in stride."
She had a feeling who to expect, from those reactions-and yep, the door to the locker room banged open at Jaegerjaquez's kick, and behind him glided Yang, much quieter and no less absolutely devastating on her freshly frazzled chemical receptors.
"Five minutes to warm up," came Xigbar's voice, and Kalypso turned toward the ball cart. Shagging was no replacement for warm-ups with a live ball, and she could use five minutes to shake the biological consequences of all those Flares.
Abarai was at the ball cart already, palming one from the top. "Gotchu," he told her. Before she could respond to that in any way, he'd underhanded the ball high in her direction.
Asshole didn't even ask, huh?
Then she heard the 'tch' behind her and put two and two together. He was stopping Jaegerjaquez from trying to warm up with her. For fuck's sake, the politics in this place. How did Dominions find the energy for it all the time?
The set came off her hands light and soft. Abarai's hit was smooth, moderately powerful, and precisely aimed, everything a good player's warm-up pepper should be. Her pass was the same, liquid absorption, nothing but a rocking platform that sent the ball right back toward him.
Abarai-didn't set her. He stepped back, squaring up with almost cartoonish deliberation, tightened himself into what he clearly thought was a clean, compact passing surface, and returned an awkward, wobbly forearm pass to her.
Oh.
"Save you some time," he said, with a bit of tension behind his half-grin.
Okay, then. Kalypso set him again, and as before, his hit was excellent. She pulled a bit more from her pass this time, so the arc was a bit short for an overhand.
"Heh, cheers." A forearm pass from him again, a bit less stilted since he hadn't had to back up for it, but still a far cry from clean. Kalypso let the ball tell her where to put her feet, and that brought her shoulders where they needed to be.
Set into hit into pass into pass into set into hit. "Jaegerjaquez likes it wide," he told her in the middle of his transformation from awkward pass into immaculate swing.
"Gathered that."
"Right, from yester-day-" Concentration on completing his forearm pass cut him off for a moment. "He can hit anything. Just don't push him if he misses, even-if-you think he oughta get the next one."
Kalypso recalled that Abarai was part of Redford's apparent scheme to drop one of the outsides. Presumably he didn't want her getting too shaken up by Jaegerjaquez in the interim.
Well, good news. As long as the guy played, they could muscle through whatever tantrum he threw when he tilted. She'd seen one start and she'd seen it finish. She wouldn't enjoy it, but damned if it would keep her from playing.
Yang, on the other hand-
"Whatever you do, don't-take Yang personally."
There it was. "No tips there, huh?"
"Nah. Sorry. Shit-" Kalypso had to scamper to keep the ball that had somehow whiffed off the side of his forearm in play. "-Nice save."
"Time's up. Court. Ixora, setting. Remember, kids," said Xigbar's voice overhead, "the point of this one is to go hard, not clean."
Neither Abarai nor Duibhne asked if the outsides wanted downs or serves. They just went to the serving line. "Luck," muttered Abarai as he passed Kalypso, without looking at her. Could have been for her, could have been to the room at large. Could have been a little prayer for Redford's scheme to pull through, or for his own serves, who knew.
She settled at the net, facing Duibhne, whose eyes met hers briefly before searing past her, toward where Jaegerjaquez was prowling into reception position. Across the net, wreathed in quiet malice, Yang waited.
His eyes didn't linger on hers. They fastened.
Kalypso lifted her right hand, and set it against the small of her back where Jaegerjaquez could see it, thumb tucked, four fingers spread. Holding Yang's golden-coin gaze, she laid her left hand across her chest, shaped like a gun.
Then she turned her full attention to the ball that was leaving Diarmuid's hand, to the turn of his chest, to the shift of energy across his body as he chambered his serve.
Now. Time to play.