Realistic or Modern #𝗠𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆𝗠𝗲 // Dystopian AI Matchmaking IC

[carrlavoie]

Vida took in long deep breaths through her nose, eyes still closed, head tilted back to the sun. A contented smile played on her lips at the warmth, though she knew she'd need to move to the shade after not too long or she'd be leaving the pool looking like a tomato - and not because she was blushing, for once. A shadow passing over her face caused her to open her eyes, sitting up straight as a waitress placed two cocktails on the table in front of her and Stephen and left before either could say otherwise. She wrinkled her nose slightly at Stephen's comment, not for any particular reason outside that she just really disliked the taste of alcohol and wasn't looking forward to a vacation of government officials constantly trying to push it down her throat. "I guess they really do," she agreed with a sigh, reaching out to pull her cocktail closer. At least it was a sweet drink. That meant less alcohol, more fruit - enough to mask the taste and the burn, if she was lucky.

Vida glanced up at the sound of footsteps entering the pool deck, and couldn't help the smile that broke over her face at seeing Carlos. "You don't look so bad yourself," she laughed in response to his comment, noting the matching swim trunks he wore with his husband. It was a cute detail, and she wondered if it had been Carlos's idea as during their last conversation together he had revealed to her that Dr. Hank Pierce was actually straight. But the couple seemed fairly relaxed together, and Carlos was in a very good mood. She hoped this trip would be good for them.

Vida continued watching the two men as they approached the lone woman, still smiling. As awkward as her history with Carlos was (at least to her), it felt good to have at least one familiar face here. She was pretty sure she would be drowning in double the anxiety if she had to face the bizarre situation of these matched marriages all on her own. Carlos felt a bit like a rock to her despite their limited relationship, keeping her grounded. And motivated, if she was being honest. If Carlos could still smile and laugh in the face of potentially never being loved to the fullest, then she could too. She turned her gaze back to Stephen and grinned. "Sure," she said, "Why not? Cheers to us and one week of getting to know each other in paradise." She raised her glass to Stephen then took an experimental sip. Strawberry. That was good. Strawberry covered the taste of alcohol very well. She could drink this.

 

[SteepVision]

Rodney turned his back and walked away, but it left Con no closer to knowing the shadows that nipped his heels. Holding more questions than he had answers. There were history hidden there. One he wanted to follow like a bloodhound. His father’s words echoing in the back of his head. "You be a patient man, Connor Grant. Same worms wait for all men, no matter how they hurry to their grave."

And Vixtor's smile were worth waiting for.

Small. Contained. But genuine. Warmth in dark hazel eyes.The subtlest sign that maybe his husband weren't too disappointed to see him.

It made it hard not to grin like a schoolboy. The edges of his eyes crinkled. Offering the corner of his arm, if Vix would accept.

"Be my pleasure, Mr. Grant." Leading them towards the desk. His happiness slowly tempered, to something a little more earthed. Eyes on the man beside him. More than…the picture on offer. Than the green hair and the profile touting goods deeds. He knew that. "I ain't usually so presumin'." And this weren't usual. " Bout our names. I just-" He shook his head. His laugh low and a little self conscious.The devil wears a suit and tie. Rubbing at the shadow of stubble on his jaw. it was hard to ignore an instinct when the lessons came at a hard price. "Green only looks good on you."

Nothin' pretty, or right, about jealousy.

“I hope I ain’t started no bridge fires.”

"Your keys."

"Thank you, ma'am." His hand closed over the fob. Old school tech, he noted. Harder to hack. Passing the plastic square to Vixtor.

"You're late." The concierge deadpanned. "You'll need to be quick."

 

[upscalerat]

It felt like an instant. One moment, Sona was being rebuked for the gift she was offering her wife; the same troublemaker from the wedding was there, stirring shit again; and the next, her wife was being hauled off by security. Sona couldn't even react. She was too stunned to do anything, her guts twisting themselves into knots as Haru and her cheeto stained fingers were dragged away, as guards instructed Sona and Chad to board the shuttle that had finally arrived.

She felt so useless. Shouldn't she have known that her government assigned partner was conspiring against the same body that had assigned them together? Well- that would have meant talking to her, for one. And it would explain her cold attitude, for the other. Still, Sona felt like an idiot; like the rug had been pulled out from under her, like the curtain had been yanked back and she was an unsuspecting citizen of Oz, like...

It didn't matter. There was an arm around her, guidance, and when she blinked, she was on the shuttle. Her bag was in her lap, the wine was still in her hand, and Chad was sitting beside her. Her ears rang with words; a moment later, her brain caught up, and she cleared her throat before speaking. "No, we hadn't talked much." She looked out the window, and took a moment to appreciate how well Chad had handled the whole situation. Despite the impression that he had given her before, it seemed that he did have a side that was more sensitive to more delicate situations. She sighed, and looked back at him. "Sorry, I've never seen someone arrested before, let alone my state-mandated spouse. Bit of an odd situation, eh?" She ended her statement with a dry chuckle.

 

[spacepirate]

Without so much as a scoff or smirk, Vix looped his arm around Connor’s offered elbow, smiling softly at the larger man’s apparent happiness. Of course, top-of-the-line spy training would entail emotional mimicry and setting, so perhaps it meant nothing. Or maybe it meant his husband was happy to see him on their honeymoon, it was hard to tell either way.

It was hard to remember when his spy-paranoia turned from genuine fear to something more of an inside joke. They were still quite stranger to one another, so Vix couldn’t even guess what his husband’s reaction would be to being accused of espionage.

“It’s not a problem,” he reassured the other, leaning his elbows on the front desk, eyes twinkling slightly. “Presume all you like, it’s different. Good different. I’m just glad you weren’t too spooked by Rodney’s antics, those corporate types can be kind of…” What was the word he was looking for? Vix clicked his tongue, then drew a line across his own neck using his thumb. “Y’know?”

He rolled his eyes a bit at the compliment, though the smirk on his face showed it was anything but annoyed. “Hey, we’re already married, there’s no need to win me over,” the former-maybe-not-so-former chemist dismissed. Green didn’t look good on anyone, right? That was kind of the point. “And if anything, I should be the one trying to butter you up, being that you’re completely…” his sentence trailed off upon taking the pink flyer left on the room’s nightstand, scanning it silently. “Huh, guess I’ll save my compliments for the swimsuit portion of our honeymoon. Looks like a mandatory pool party,” Vix snarked, handing the flyer over.

Guess that’s what they were late for. “Eh, I’m pretty sure I can swim in these shorts if I need to, so I’ll just wait so we can head down together.”

-

At the pool deck, Vix saw a few familiar faces. Anisa and Rodney looked to be playing happy couple, sipping some pink alocholic beverage by the poolside. There were a few folks he recognized from the ceremony as well, though no one from the handcuff brigade. Maybe that Chad fellow and his spouse were assigned to a different resort. All the better, since he was in no mood to get arrested again. The honeymooner noticed a small crowd of folks around the pool recognizing one of them and, as if on autopilot, quickly made his way over, sidestepping a waiter who was asking him for his drink order on the way.

“Hey, officer!” Vix greeted Carlos, before noticing Tara, Vida, Hank, and Stephen and shrinking a bit into himself. “Uh, sorry for just walking up to all of you like this uninvited… I just, uh, I wanted to say thanks. For bailing us out at the ceremony? It would have sucked to get detained over… you know… cake...” This was so dumb. The poor guy probably didn’t even remember, and Vix rubbed at his forehead and wondered what had gotten into him.

 

[Kendrix-lamar]

Taking a decent swig of the sickingly sweet drink helped ease Stephen's mind off the fact Vida chose to compliment Carlos back. The matching swimsuit he sported to his match a bit much in his opinion. "Cheers to that" Stephen agreed hoping he could get away with downing the rest over time. Not that sweet cocktails were his go to but he couldn't just go order a straight whiskey without probably getting some feedback from Vida about his drinking.

Seeing Carlos move on to the girl who looked stunned and alone he was curious as their eyes met briefly. He mentally shrugged it off looking away as some of the others slowly filed down. This time it was the guy with green hair and the doctor. It seemed the one with the green hair seemed focused on Carlos but he brought up the fact they had gotten arrested.

He had heard what happened and saw the videos out of curiosity. Though he wouldn't admit to that. He sighed looking to Vida "do you think they'll have us play stupid games like in some of those old reality shows? To get more connected or something? Or force us to answer a lot of questions? "

 

[SteepVision]

"I'll change. Real quick like." His smile easy, following the signs to the bathrooms.

He stripped off his sweaty travel clothes and stuffed them into his rucksack. Swapped out for a faded pair of surf-brand boardshorts. I should be the one trying to butter you up. Rubber sandals on his feet. Guess I'll save my compliments for the swimsuit portion of our honeymoon. Catching himself in the mirror.

Some things, there was just no hiding.
Memories. Like the faded tattoo, a tiger, inked onto his chest above his heart. Lessons. Like the uneven, pebbled patch of skin on his left shoulder. Gravel rash, where the bike ripped from under him and he'd slid fifteen feet on bare tarmac. Or mistakes… Eyes tracing the smatter of dark hair on his chest and stomach, sun darkened skin, to the hem of his shorts. His brow furrowed. Turning away from his reflection, and knotted a beach towel loosely around his hips. Another snagged from the bench for Vixtor.

Con shadowed his husband. Slowing his pace to match the shorter man's. He shielded his face from the glare. Dark eyes scanning the pooldeck as they descended. Past the slick white stone and aqua blue pool, brilliant under the sun, to the thick tangle of jungle that crawled around them. A small overgrown path, following the steep slope of the hill, wound towards the beach. Structures evident under the mounded greenery. And the sea. A single craft, white and massive, idle on glassy water.

Rodney lounged on a deck chair. A woman beside him. And he'd be lying if he weren't relived that Vix didn't stop. Past Armani suit and China blu. Dodging a waitperson to beeline for a table of more familiar faces.

It almost surprised him. And it looked like he weren't the only one. A smile hitched his cheek as Vix flustered, rubbing at his face. Cute.

He stepped closer. His hand, light, settled in the middle of his husband's back. A gentle span of fingers. A sign he hoped weren’t unwelcome. That Vix had back up. That he ain’t need to do shit alone, if he didn’t want to. “Connor. It’s a pleasure” His other hand extended to the cop, then the older man, and finally, the girl. “An’ this is Vixtor.”

 

[SteepVision]

Spoiler

Hank sat beside Carlos under the shade of the cabana. A panoramic view of glittering ocean behind them, sun sinking to highlight a spate of shaded islands. Sea birds, hung high on damp thermals. He was already hot. The lapped surface of the cool blue pool, tempting. A slim-waisted waitress with a sweating glass, moreso.

He lifted his hand. "No, thank you." Pink fruit juice rejected. "I'll have… Rum and coke, no sugar. On ice."

"A cuba libre, Sir?"

"Yeah, thanks. And whatever they'll have." His smile turned to Carlos and… Tara? Pretty girl. Somber. And absorbed. He knew the look well enough. Like an intern, masked up and prepped for surgery. All body and no mind. Distracted, by something. He could take a stab in the dark and guess "love life." One half of the Marry Me project whole, sitting alone on a tropical island? It didn't require a ten-year education to make that math work.

Despite the haze over blue skies, he could feel the sun biting at his knee. "Oh and-" he stopped the waitress. "Some table water. Bottled. And do you have sunblock? SPF 50?"

"Of course, Sir."

As she turned and walked away, another couple approached. The bright green hair, vividly unmistakable. Shadowed by a much taller man that looked more like a bodyguard. He was shirtless, a towel tied around his hips. Sweat gleaming faintly on broad, bare chest and shoulders under the sun. A distasteful tattoo on his pectoral. Scanning the pool, the jungle and the sea before his focus settled on the table.

He stopped behind the green-haired man as he thanked Carlos. Hank’s gaze slipped back to his husband. Cake? That wasn’t a story he’d heard in full. Too preoccupied by the abrupt evacuation of the seizure victim to ask. Were these two even aware that someone had died during the ceremony?

At least Carlo’s was being thanked. LEO didn't tend poll that well amongst the general populace.

The taller man extended a calloused hand, an easy smile on his face. "Connor. It's a pleasure. An' this is Vixtor." His accent, heavy. An easy confidence in his grip as he passed it around the table.

Pierce

Hank

Hank sat beside Carlos under the shade of the cabana. A panoramic view of glittering ocean behind them, sun sinking to highlight a spate of shaded islands. Sea birds, hung high on damp thermals. He was already hot. The lapped surface of the cool blue pool, tempting. A slim-waisted waitress with a sweating glass, moreso.

He lifted his hand. "No, thank you." Pink fruit juice rejected. "I'll have… Rum and coke, no sugar. On ice."

"A cuba libre, Sir?"

"Yeah, thanks. And whatever they'll have." His smile turned to Carlos and… Tara? Pretty girl. Somber. And absorbed. He knew the look well enough. Like an intern, masked up and prepped for surgery. All body and no mind. Distracted, by something. He could take a stab in the dark and guess "love life." One half of the Marry Me project whole, sitting alone on a tropical island? It didn't require a ten-year education to make that math work.

Despite the haze over blue skies, he could feel the sun biting at his knee. "Oh and-" he stopped the waitress. "Some table water. Bottled. And do you have sunblock? SPF 50?"

"Of course, Sir."

As she turned and walked away, another couple approached. The bright green hair, vividly unmistakable. Shadowed by a much taller man that looked more like a bodyguard. He was shirtless, a towel tied around his hips. Sweat gleaming faintly on broad, bare chest and shoulders under the sun. A distasteful tattoo on his pectoral. Scanning the pool, the jungle and the sea before his focus settled on the table.

He stopped behind the green-haired man as he thanked Carlos. Hank’s gaze slipped back to his husband. Cake? That wasn’t a story he’d heard in full. Too preoccupied by the abrupt evacuation of the seizure victim to ask. Were these two even aware that someone had died during the ceremony?

At least Carlo’s was being thanked. LEO didn't tend poll that well amongst the general populace.

The taller man extended a calloused hand, an easy smile on his face. "Connor. It's a pleasure. An' this is Vixtor." His accent, heavy. An easy confidence in his grip as he passed it around the table.

.