fh_trips | Loisaba Conservancy, Kenya [Tuesday Daytime]

Irene, unknown quantity that she was, padded out sleepily and made a beeline for the coffee.

She didn't say anything at first, but that might have been made clearer when she tipped her head to the side and carefully pulled out one earplug, followed by the other.

Not that they'd done much. It had been worth the effort, though.

"Sleep well?" she asked lightly, offering no comment on the earplugs, because no one needed one.

Rosa had glanced over Irene's way as she emerged, then returned to smirking into her coffee while the other woman did her thing, and had to snort at the question.

"Like a log," she said. Or at least like someone had been sawing them. Another sip, and she quirked a brow Irene's way. "You?"

That, after all, was the real question here. Actually, there were several questions, which was a rare experience for Rosa, usually she wouldn't care, but this whole situation was all just too fascinating from her perspective to not be curious.

"Oh, you know." Irene didn't have the energy to try to lie on this one, honestly, because it would have been such a bold lie -- Rosa, clearly, could hear -- but she could be evasive. "I took a really lovely nap in the sun by the pool yesterday; might have to do it again today!"

It really had been a nice nap. And the earplugs had at least softened things to a dull roar last night, so...there was that.

"I'm honestly a touch concerned about Amaya's breathing, though," she added, dropping her voice confidentially. "That can't be good for her."

Well, there are probably worse places for a make-shift second bedroom than poolside, at least.

"Yeah," said Rosa. "She seems to have conveniently forgotten the CPAP machine I got her this time."

She'd definitely remembered it for the Japan trip, and she was pretty sure it was there in Boston, too, and Blackstone really wasn't all that forgetful, which just left Rosa trying to figure out if it was vanity or something else.

And we all knew how, if there was one thing Amaya Blackstone concerned herself with, it was vanity...

Edited 2022-02-22 13:59 (UTC)

"She has a bloody CPAP?" Okay, screw being at all evasive -- hello, Arch Co-Teacher, you just became a wildly valuable source of information, in addition to clearly being Irene's sort of person in a number of ways.

Irene frowned thoughtfully, glancing back at her own bedroom door. "Bet you a hundred bucks she didn't forget it. She's probably just not unpacked it."

Weaponized snoring was a new one, she had to admit, but -- if that was the case, it really sort of just made her admire Amaya more. (The snoring was, though, a bit of a drag, admittedly -- but using it to stave off whatever it was that made her so suspicious of Irene and her sexy motives? Genius.)

It was way too early on a morning tainted by snore-related sleep to have to put this much effort into controling her smiling muscles, but at least there was coffee to somewhat bury the smirks.

"Maybe she's just embarrassed," Rosa offered.

But notice how she was definitely not taking that bet.

Edited 2022-02-22 14:19 (UTC)

"More embarrassed of the machine than the snoring itself?" Irene countered, arching a brow over her own coffee. "Good try. I suspect this is about me, so my apologies if you're suffering along."

Which just made her all the more determined to stick it out, damn it. Maybe it would eventually become relaxing. Some people slept near railway tracks and got used to it, right?

Rosa just sort of shrugged her shoulders at that. After all, there weren't even any lobsters involved yet; as far as school trips adjacent to Amaya went, this wasn't even that bad. And it was probably doing wonders to help keep predators away.

Besides, there was something way more interesting here than just Blackstone's snoring, and Rosa looked thoughtful, brows furrowed as if in mild confusion. "What makes you think," she ventured, with a...truly bewildered expression, "it's about you?"

Do tell, Irene. This whole thing was way more entertaining than a bunch of big dumb animals.

"She pretends she doesn't like me," Irene explained easily, shrugging a shoulder lightly. "And I realize that makes me sound like some sort of pushy tyrant, but I swear I'd back off if I didn't think she actually thrived on the attention."

There was such a fine line between being playfully aggressive and being terrible, and this wasn't exactly Irene's first time playing jump-rope with that line, either -- but much as with Sherlock, she was always watching so, so closely for the first sign that she wasn't evoking anything but the fun sort of discomfort in Amaya. (The prize-winning vibrator was about the closest she'd felt she'd skirted to doing so, but that was also, if you asked Irene, not strictly her fault.)

"I have my suspicions as to where it comes from," she added, not necessarily volunteering that information out just yet. It was just a suspicion, anyway, and one that she didn't necessarily think had a lot of foundation in her opinion, but one that might explain a lot.

Rosa's nose wrinkled just a little, since that answer seemed pretty close to sincere, which took at least some of the fun about it, but she did think about it a little as she sipped her coffee, considering what she might have to offer.

And, really, if they could cut back on the snoring, it might actually be worth it.

"That woman," she stated, now giving Irene a frank look that seemed to doubt she really knew what she was getting herself into here, "is one of the the most stubborn people I have ever met, and coming from me? That's saying a lot."

But she was also was getting a feeling that Irene was the kind of person to really just get off on a challenge. Which, you know, fair. Mood. But that could also mean that Blackstone either knew exactly what she was doing or was fumbling into this completely clueless and blind, and that was where Rosa's supicions and protective urges started to well up.

And considering her track record...

Ugh. Dammit, Amaya...

"Mmm." Irene mustered up a little amused smile there -- this morning's sincerity was largely born out of a lack of sleep coupled with the last four months or so of pursuit -- and took a sip of her coffee. "We're all in good company then, aren't we?"

Irene was exactly the kind of person to get off on a challenge. Stubborn might not have really been the word for her, actually -- perhaps tenacious was a better fit.

"At least I suppose I can't say no one warned me." She lifted her coffee in a little toast to Rosa, rolling her eyes self-deprecatingly.

Edited 2022-02-22 15:52 (UTC)

Rosa just shook her head, pretty sure this whole line of thinking was borne from a very particular kind of insanity, and she really couldn't tell if she was here for it or if she was just better off just letting them stubborned (or tenaciously) butt their heads together until bloodies.

But...on the other hand...

Rosa looked at Irene for a moment longer, then turned her attention to her mug, as if judging how much was left in there, before downing the last of it, setting it down, and pushing back her chair.

"Well," she sighed, as she got up, reaching for her jacket, because of course she was still wearing her leather jacket on the African plains, why wouldn't she?, "good chat. Good luck."

The tone did not sound confident.

"Pretty sure I've got some," she made a face, "chaperoning to go do..."

Rosa pretty much headed toward the door at that point, but she did stop and turn as if she'd just thought of something. "You...have at least tried the meats-on-sticks thing, right? I mean..." She trailed off slightly, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That's what worked for me."

And now, with that, and a very rare, almost bright smile (as well as the certainty that Blackstone was absolutely going to kill her now, but you know what, Amaya? She got you that CPAP to be used, goddammit, you kind of deserved this now), she went to go see about that chaperoning.

And maybe smacking a certain blacksmith upside the head once she saw her next.

Irene, who would never be chaperoning any of this if she could help it -- she was here as a guest, thank you -- watched Rosa depart with a slight smile as she absorbed that information.

Meat on sticks. Not exactly her usual wheelhouse, but -- she could work with that.

(And she could also find a way to discreetly buy Rosa a drink if it worked, or something, because thank you, you leather-clad angel who was going to roast out on the savannah or whatever, now.)

Loisaba Conservancy, Kenya [Tuesday Daytime]

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