thisavrou | (no subject)

[Wash appears on the screen, grudgingly out of armour, his face drawn and pinched around the mouth. He looks exhausted, eyes sunken and dark with exhaustion. Arriving here is just one more thing that seems specifically designed to fuck up his life.]

My name is Ag- [No, he's not Agent Washington anymore is he? He's not with the UNSC. He's not with project Freelancer. He's not anything.] My name is Washington.

They said that- [He can't believe he's saying this. His life is a fucking joke and his death will probably be the punchline. Until then, he is stuck dealing with this shit. Assuming he hasn't snapped altogether. That's also a possibility.]

They said that I have been sucked in through some kind of bullshit dimension hopping. [Yes, his teeth are gritted as he says it.] I'm looking for anyone who knows what the UNSC is.

[It's not that he wants to find anyone from home. There's no-one he cares for left alive and even then... well, he tries not to think about them too much. But he just needs someone to remind him that that wasn't all fictional.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Of course he's right, but that doesn't mean anything to her guilty conscience. She only found Wash after everything had gone to hell for him and he'd started to pick up the pieces. ]

He's allowed to voice his opinions, I'm not his commanding officer anymore.

[ She also shoots him a look with a slightly raised eyebrow. She's seen you looking, York. ]

It's not about being allowed to, it's about being decent and not blaming you for our deaths. If it's anyone's fault it's the Director's.

[ He's still having a hard time speaking of himself that way, especially right now when he just found out Wash blew him up. And when she raises an eyebrow at him he averts his eye, mumbling an apology. They're not at a point where he's ready to hit on her yet. Maybe they never will be. ]

Sorry.

It's fine, really.

[ She regrets bringing attention to it, if only because it makes things awkward again. She's still unsure how to handle things between them given the pile of baggage they've managed to accumulate. Finally she decides to try and change the subject to something safer. ]

...do you want to go run with me? I wouldn't mind the company.

...yeah, actually. I just need to change.

[ He could run in jeans, but he'd rather go get his own workout gear on. ]

You know we haven't trained together since you got here.

I got used to training on my own. Wash had the sim troopers to work with so it'd usually just be me and Epsilon.

[ She pulls her hair up efficiently into a ponytail. ]

Want to meet at the exercise facility?

You weren't alone, then. And you've got my ass to kick now.

[ She misses a lock of hair and York wants to reach out and tuck it back for her. He doesn't, obviously. Just nods. ]

Yeah. I'm right behind you.

I've always been able to kick your ass.

[ There's something oddly comforting hearing him say he'll be right behind her. That's how it always was back in Freelancer. She smiles at him, that stray lock of hair still hanging down. ]

Don't keep me waiting.

[ York smiles back, then gestures to his own head where the stray hair is hanging down on hers. ]

You missed a bit.

[ And then he leaves to get changed -- his room is just downstairs, so he really is right behind her. She's only waiting a few minutes for him. ]

Ready?

(no subject)

Re: action;

Re: action;

Re: action;

Re: action;

action;

Re: action;

action;

Re: action;