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Yvette finds herself in the unenviable position of coming into existence in free fall at almost terminal velocity
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Her first conscious experience is a weightless feeling, the muffled sound of wind, and the gnawing feeling that she's forgotten something terribly important. It's like waking up from deep sleep with all the world around her ablaze, except worse. Was she asleep? She feels like she'd been dreaming, but that's not right. It's sort of right, but it isn't, and she can't put any words to why. There's no before the not-dreaming, she doesn't know her name or who she is or what she even looks like. This... does not seem normal. Wait, that doesn't make sense, either. How does she have any idea what normal is when she doesn't remember anything at all? She doesn't understand. What is this thing she's in, why is there the sound of wind, why does her weight seem weird, why does she have a concept of what weight is and isn't weird, isn't that more strange than anything else?

And then the protective cocoon around her tears, and is ripped away, and many of her questions are answered. The ones that aren't are tabled for later, because she has bigger problems right now. Like falling out of the sky. Like that. Quite reasonably, her second conscious experience is panic. This does not seem like a problem she is equipped to solve. Knowledge from... somewhere... notes that this fall is not from the kind of height people survive, especially not someone completely unprepared. A confused amnesiac is probably even less equipped to handle it than the average person. This is so incredibly unfair.

She has enough practicality to flatten herself out to catch the wind. This buys her enough time to figure out that she has no kind of device, some parachute or propulsion system or something, to slow her own fall or catch enough wind to slow herself down enough. And then also to curse, or at least try to, because the ground is very close and she is out of time.

"Oh, fuc—" she begins, and then is cut off by crashing (painfully) into some kind of large glass dome. Ha, she thinks, through the pain and the confusion as she crashes through it, at least I beat the dome in resilience! This is an outrageously petty victory, but it's all she has.

Then she crashes into something else, and all she knows is pain and darkness.

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"Mmm." Snuuuuuggle. "... There's a lot to it, and it's hard to catch it all. This feels... like it's not fitting the normal pattern of how life goes, for you. You're not sure if you just want to make me happy or if you want to kiss me or if this is how things should or shouldn't work." She squints at him. "I think I then lean 'no' on kissing, until you're more... settled and sure?"

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"And now you're extremely disappointed," she pronounces, a little amused.

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He is hit by the sudden realisation that actually it is intensely stupid and immature to overthink it to this level and he is too old to be beating around the bush like that so he will instead kiss her.

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Predictably, she kisses him back! He can feel her smile, and she melts into him with a happy hum.

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...okay.

He does not regret it.

Well, he thinks he wouldn't have regreted it no matter what but this is, like... substantially better than he remembers it being.

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It is similarly so much better to actually kiss someone, than to just have memories of her sire kissing someone in her body! They did it differently, and also she cares about what her partner's feeling in more than just a tactical does-this-get-her-what-she-wants sense, which turns out to be super important to the experience! By kissing him she is making him happy and furthermore she is happy and they are doing a nice thing together and it's the best thing in the world.

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Aleks himself cannot read minds but he can at least read body language well enough.

Are first kisses meant to be more... chaste than this? Or last less long? Maybe, but he'll take a leaf from himself-ten-seconds-ago's book and stop worrying about what he's "supposed" to do and just enjoy the entirely bizarre way this day is going.

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His kissing partner seems to be having a lovely time. She has absolutely forgotten what words are, or what thoughts are besides the wonderful rush of his mind while kissing her, though. She’s just happy and affectionate and kissing him and has zero plans to either stop or escalate. This is just a very nice place to be!

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Okay. You know what, this is fine. He doesn't need to think too much about it or whether it means anything. He can get out of his head for a moment.

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No thoughts! Only experiences! She is on board with this plan! In that she is a happy participant and not actually planning anything!

They will probably be here a while.

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Fine by him, though at least one of them is still sufficiently humanlike to have biological needs that will need attending at some point, like food.

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He’s going to need to be the one to remember, because. Yeah his partner is just happy to stay here, possibly forever, in this nice feelings place.

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She can read his mind so actually she'll probably notice at about the same time he does.

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She absolutely does pick up on it when he remembers! Regretfully, caressing his cheek and smiling, she pulls away a little to breathe, “You’re hungry.”

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"—yes, I believe I am."

He's a creature of habit, enough so that it had actually been some time since he's needed his actual body to remind him to attend to it.

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She giggles, all affection and sweetness. He’s so great!

“I think I’m hungry too, actually. I um. Didn’t notice. Oops?”

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He has nutrient sludge galore but maybe her first real meal in this world should be fancier than that.

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“I do not care, I just want to keep touching you while we eat,” she sighs.

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Really? Assuming she will be allowed to touch him however much she wants while meal is happening, does she not have a preference?

(He obviously doesn't, if he did he would not be so stocked up on easy nutrient sludge.)

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“Mm mm. Just want to keep being held.” Nestle nestle nestle his mind is so nice and she’s being held by him and that’s nice and he likes holding her and that, too, is very nice. “Having other preferences is hard,” she mumbles.

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Sludge it is.

...they will have to get up, though.

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“Mmmmmnngh,” she complains. Can’t he carry her? Or something? No? Terrible.

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If he uses both arms but then he can't make the sludge happen.

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“Mmmmmmmmmmrggggghhh.”

This is such a cranky castoff. So unhappy. Pouting so much.

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