thisavrou | text;

Entry tags:

text;

[ "Augusta" is the name attached to this TAB. The picture is of curved white metal with a stripe of dark orange — leg armor, for any who may recognize it. ]

UNSC. Marines. RT-636.

[ In order: the military Maine knows, the branch he's in, and the hull classification symbol for the Mother of Invention.

[ North insisted on gathering intel while keeping a low profile. Maine's only interest is in returning to their mission. This is the result of compromise. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Maine doesn't miss the tension. Doesn't know what to make of it, either. He retracts his hand and puts the question of why aside. He can consider it later, right along with the way North recoiled at the sight of him. ]

Old, too.

[ How many years has it been for him? ]

Thanks, you really know how to flatter a guy.

[But he can guess the real questions.]

it's been three or four years. i think. I forget sometimes.

[ Maine just huffs. When has he ever been anything less than blunt? Then Wash says that he forgets sometimes.

[ ... The fuck does that mean?

[ Maine doesn't hesitate. He doesn't like doing it, but he doesn't hesitate. His concern over Wash's current state has officially reached a new level. Whatever's going on, they need to speak face-to-face. So he takes off his helmet.

[ His head is shaved, but there's no metastability tattoo on the back. There's no scarring on his throat or face from bullets or the subsequent fall off the freeway. There are no marks under his eyes from too many sleepless nights with Sigma burning in his mind. He's just Maine. An ordinary (albeit big) guy looking Wash dead in the eye, waiting for him to continue. ]

Edited (words!) 2017-08-03 13:23 (UTC)

cool, do you have extra suits?

Good.

[ Maybe Shiro will make more sense when he wakes up. Maybe. ]

[ He's ... really not sure how to feel about that. ]

Justice for what?

No.

[ More terms he's not familiar with. In this case, it's a good thing. As far as Maine's concerned, the only good thing to come from the Covenant is his badass new weapon.

[ But, just to make sure it's not some ... multiple universe 'Covenant by another name' crap: ]

Hostile?

[ Toward humanity, that is. ]

can you make a new one?

[Wash lets put a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding, a knot relaxing in his chest that's Brent here since Maine had showed up.]

It's really you.

Right... yeah. [Explanation, he needs to explain.]

You got given an AI. Sigma. He was meant to be Carolina's but your throat...

Anyway, Sigma was fucking crazy. They all were. And last time I saw you it wasn't... you haven't been you for a long time.

[ For a moment, Maine is still. He's trying to make sense of that. To compile the bits and pieces of information he's picked up — words, actions, reactions — and shove them in alongside Wash's explanation. To make it make sense.

[ Something happened to him. Something very bad. His throat? He couldn't speak. Sigma was his A.I., like Theta is North's. Sigma was crazy. And then?

[ It's the last part that he can't figure out. His fingers twitch and he scowls, confused and uncertain and irritated by that uncertainty. ]

Not me?

[ What does that even mean? Who else could he be? What the fuck happened? ]

No need.

[ His works just fine, thanks. ]

what if i paid you to make a new one?
i really really like mecha

[He doesn't want to explain this. He doesn't want to remember the Meta, the creature that had burned Maine out and destroyed him. But he owes it to him doesn't he?]

Sigma. Your AI. He... the AIs were just fragments. Parts that had been broken off the Alpha. Through torture. Sigma thought he could become more than that if he got hold of the other fragments. And he used you to do it. Took over bit by bit until I don't think you were in there, or you'd been buried. He used you to do terrible things.

[ Terrible things.

[ Maine thinks of the way North jerked away from him, as though expecting an attack. He thinks of how shaken York appeared. He thinks of the tension in Wash, released only when he took off his helmet. He puts it together. They were afraid — all of them — that it wasn't him. That he was Sigma.

[ Sigma gave them reason to be afraid. Sigma was hostile.

[ Maine puts it together. Doesn't know what to do with it. Doesn't know what to feel or think about it. It's one more fucking thing that doesn't make a shred of sense. So he thinks of what does make sense. What always makes sense: the mission, and watching his teammate's backs.

[ Right now, Wash looks like shit. He's not good. Fuck Sigma. Fuck A.I. Fuck whatever happens in some future Maine hasn't lived. He'll deal with it later.

[ Maine raises his chin and rolls his shoulders; he lifts a hand to gesture to himself, solid and whole and decidedly him. ]

Here now.

[ Then he raises an eyebrow and nods at Wash with a low, questioning sound.

[ "What about you?" ]

Not for sale.

[ Want awesome armor? JOIN THE MARIIIINES. ]

The little people, of course! For those who cannot defend themselves.

what about just the helmet then
make a new one
doesn't have to be high-tech and fancy

[ ew no. ]

[Despite everything, Wash cracks a smile, tired but genuine.]

Yeah, I know. I'm glad. It's good to see you.

[Maine, and not the Meta. Maine his friend, and not the tool or the monster.

The question, gets a sigh. It's exhausting, but he owes this to Maine.]

I got Epsilon. Alpha's memories. It killed itself in my head and tore me apart and then the Project locked me up and fucked with my head some more. For months.

So I convinced them I was fine, and I am. I'm fine. I'm not crazy.

And then I blew the Project up with an EMP.

[ If this were any other day, news of Wash blowing up the Project would get a hell of a reaction. Today, however? Today, it's just one more unbelievable, unpleasant thing that Maine doesn't know how to deal with.

[ One part of him wants to punch his friend square in the face, because what the fuck. Another part wants to pull Wash close and cradle his head, because what the fuck.

[ In the end, he fixes his friend with an intense stare and raises his hand — slowly this time — to settle on Wash's shoulder again. Firmly: ]

Drinks.

[ The two of them. Right now. They fucking need it. ]

Desperate.

[Wash wouldn't blame him. He's not sure he'd survive, but he wouldn't blame him. Maine hadn't been Maine when Wash had found out about the Project. Or maybe... could Sigma have told him It doesn't matter. Right now, as far as Maine knows, the Project is home.

Even a careful hand on his shoulder pushes him down, but he grins at Maine.]

Yeah. That sounds like a good idea. I'm about four years overdue.

[ Maine huffs and shakes his head. "Too long." Wash's grin triggers a half smile in return. That expression? That's more like it.

[ Automatically, Maine starts lifting his helmet to put it back on. Then he pauses, remembering that release of tension when Wash saw his face, and he lets his helmet drop back to his side.

[ Maine already has a bullet hole in his armor from a sniper. Now he's going to be walking around barefaced. The shit he does for his friends....

[ A questioning growl accompanies a jerk of his head. "Let's go" and "Where to?" in one. He hasn't been here nearly long enough to find a bar. ]

[He's grateful for it. He knows that Maine is used to wearing his armour more than even Wash does, but it's nice to see his face, to be reminded that it's him, not the Meta.

Luckily Wash has taken the time to explore the area and get to know where things are. He knows just the place. A little dive bar, somewhere they might have visited on shore leave.]

Come on. I know where to go.

[ With a grunt of acknowledgment, Maine follows, watching his teammate's back all the while.

[ The dive bar is exactly the kind of place Maine would've chosen himself. It brings back good memories. Admittedly, some are hazier than others, but they're good. It feels almost normal. And, just like normal, Maine hits the ground running.

[ If he's downing his drinks a bit faster than normal, what of it? It's been a hell of a day.

[ By the time Maine starts feeling a pleasant warmth and a loosening of his tongue, he's trying to describe the kickass way he caught Carolina and York as they fell off of that building. He's chosen to do this by making a long arc with one hand while the other plummets. There are also low "whoosh" noises.

[ Don't fucking judge him. It's been a hell of a day. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 7 of 12

text;

action

Re: action

action

i died laughing and i don't even know this canon

text;

no subject

GOOD ♥

i had this open all day and never hit post??? sorry!

no subject

Re: action

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject