goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"No," and while there's sympathy, she can't help derive a little amusement from his situation. "You are not a demon. Though you may have the skill for at least one of those spells by next year at the earliest."

"It's not his full name," she informs him, raising an eyebrow. His nickname was Delta for a reason after all. Good old dad had been fond of...unnecessary mouthfuls of names for her half-siblings.

There's a glower for her from Delta when he emerges from his room, but he doesn't seem at all apologetic for not telling York sooner.

He indeed can be an asshole, but who is this and how did you get my frequency? [ He doesn't much feel like trying to sort out who or what this could be. It's late. He's tired. He's a little hungover. He is in no mood. ]

"Killjoy." He snorts a soft laugh. "I'll take what I can get."

From my partner. Speaking of whom, mind opening the door? She's running on like close to 37 hours straight no sleep.

"I thought you trusted me, man. I thought we had something special." He pouts, all overdramatic angst before turning to Carolina. "You still love me, don't you?"

Lemme unpack this then. Who the fuck are you and why haven't you just sedated her yet?

She pats his shoulder lightly, then slinks her way back over to the couch, where abandoned cat and tablet still lie. "In the mean time, you still have work to be doing. You'll just have to deal with your family when the time comes."

Firstly, have you met Carolina?

Secondly, makes it hard to get anywhere if you sedate your partner, okay, she's the driver here.

[there's a long pause, before]

Look, will you just open the door already? She's half convinced this is a really bad idea and about to leave already. Unless you really are that much of an asshole, in which case I don't know why I fucking bothered to give you a heads up.

why didn't you START with the fact she's at my door you dipshit?

[ At least this place isn't a mess. He doesn't own enough TO make a mess and he is sleeping in just his boxers but- you know what? Fuck it. She's the one that bailed, she's the one making this WEIRD, he's being SENSIBLE. So. Opening the door and blinking at he while cleanshaven and mostly naked is the most passive aggressive response ever. ]

You gonna stand there all night?

Carolina merely looks up from dishing out her own portion of food, and arches an eyebrow. Oh, was she supposed to be siding with someone here? "No," is a very deadpan reply. "Pretty sure that wasn't in the job description."

Why do you think I was telling you to open the door, genius?

[That's pretty much the last of the text messages, helped in no small part that they can see some movement even if there's not much in the way in light, not until the door opens and York's in boxers and broad shoulders are backlit and he shaved, why did he shave? and her eyes stall first and foremost of the signs of scarring on her chest.

Old dead rage tries to stoke old embers; it's Epsilon who prods her gently when she doesn't respond to York's call. C'mon, C, need to answer the guy. We're here now. What's the worst that can happen? ...He doesn't ask that. They've lived through such things already.

Part of the shadows on his left detach from the building, the lattice of brick work filming over, before washing into a singular brown shade across her armor. She doesn't stagger, but there's a laboured sense to the two steps she takes out of the dark.

...Is she hesitating? Agent Carolina never hesitated.

But she isn't in Freelancer any more.

Her voice is a little rough, tired, but her visor doesn't move from York's face. Rude AI aside, it's good manners to ask first: ]

..May I come in?

Your friend is an asshole.

[ And an AI, apparently, if she's driving and the hints are anything to go by. He'll- sort out how he feels about that later. Right now he's just watching her carefully- and sure. Things have changed. But body posture, gestures, that shit? That never really does. And even without the heads up from whoever it was, he can tell she's exhausted. Stressed. And uncertain.

The last one is what has him sighing and stepping aside, motioning for her to get in. She's beat to hell and tired, he's beat to hell and tired, and it didn't take much to figure out that the odd stillness earlier was cuz of the scars in his upper torso. Reggie's last goodbye. ]

Come on. I'll make coffee. Think I got some food in the fridge too.

[ Good food, too. Well. What little good food there is LEFT with what's going on around here. He gets by. Tries to keep comfortable. ]

"...the internet still loves me." He huffs, settling down to grab some food. Carolina was evil and Delta was the devil.

"I'm gonna get too busy to make a plan, get there, and freak out. Fun times." God he hates the idea. Last year he'd managed to not, citing school and recovery and finals and he'd managed to wiggle by. They haven't seen him since his deployment and it's a little- yeah."

[ "Takes one to know one," is the quick reply echoing from her armour. She withholds a sigh, resists the urge to shake her head at them both. At least Church doesn't sound annoyed - that'd make their stay easier, however long or short it might be. She's careful to avoid touching him with her armour when she steps after him, doesn't look directly at his scars, but it's hard to miss and easy to guess that they caught her attention.

Thank god for a railing or the stairs might be a bit more troublesome, as she follows him up. Tired or not, she refuses to let her stride falter until she's on the main landing floor.

For someone who's been here a while, the aparrtment is pretty sparsely decorated. But every inch screams bachelor.]

Just...food, is fine. Thank you. It's not a good idea for me to have caffeine right now.

[the process of removing her gauntlets is a little labourous, noticeable even as she glances about, tries to consider where to secure Church and the rest of her armour.]

"hmm, y'know, several thousand likes don't necessarily mean love. Now eat up before your food gets cold."said teasingly, before Carolina resumes tucking in.

It's not a long meal, and they're all tired after the day's events. Once they've finished up, she'll start herding people to their respective beds.

Who said I wasn't making decaf? [ He calls over his shoulder, already on the way to the kitchen. It's about all he ever buys, as often as he brews it. Better to not risk giving himself a fucking heart attack on top of everything else. ] Got a standing armor case in the corner by the coat rack.

[ Something he grabbed- well. Yesterday. He was planning on just maybe picking up something that could make him less likely to die in the coming weeks. The plans for such purchases and thefts are all over the coffee table. Hell, he's got a tablet with varying specs with pros and cons listed in blue, glowing font. Picking up what he can is well and good but he wants something that will work and work well. Since the last one got blown all to hell, well. That leaves him with fewer options. ]

Seafood or chicken? For the food.

He finishes his food in record time, starving after all that activity, and the fear for his life. Hasn't had to have that in- well. A long, long time. He tosses as much of the trash as is available when he's finished, ruffles Delta's hair with an obnoxious kiss to his cheek and starts back to the bedroom "Night guys."

[ Gauntlets are removed and the fine black undergloves follow, even as she sways a little in place. Then up go her hands and off comes her helmet, Church briefly flickering into place over her right shoulder as she runs one hand through her hair. ]

Why would you ruin it with decaff? [it's a little deadpan, mostly dead tired, but it's not a refusal. The little hologram floats over to inspect the case, a little uncertain he trusts it (or York, for that matter, no matter what his Logical Delta-part thinks). Her gloves are set on the table, where gaze proceeds to linger on the plans as she works on unbinding her armor.

..This may take a little while. Which really does highlight how tired she is. She can and has done this before almost in her sleep, which means everything takes forever when you're attempting to operate at a higher level of function than your body's prepared for.]

...Chicken. Thank you.

"Good night," is the sighed response from Delta, still working on one of his reports, and Carolina responds with an acknowledging nod. She doesn't sleep right away, not until her brother has been gently harassed and herded into his own room after she's checked all entrances and exits.

The other security guards are on rotation, which is good. But even she can't stay awake all night. Bunking down on the couch, she makes sure to set her phone's alarm - vibrate, of course, no waking the client - and settles in for her own nap. She can sleep longer later, tomorrow.

She's still up before either of the men in her suite, however, pausing to use the bathroom to splash her face and tidy up. They don't have anywhere to be right away, but both Delta and York likely have plans. Or have them made for them, depending on any emails sent overnight..

Her wings close about her as she sits down. "Is 'freaking out' a normal activity for you around your family?" He'd been incredibly social towards her, for all his reduced nerves when it came now to interacting with those at his college, but outside of anecdotes, he didn't talk about his family much.

"Mmnn..." Words. Words are not a thing. Nor is moving. He is just a lump against the tile.

Because you need to sleep, boss.

[ Needs to sleep terribly if she's fumbling with the gloves. He wonders if he can't get her to pass out for a little while. Maybe a month? A year. Odds are it won't stick for more than an hour but- it'll be alright.

He shuffles back out with the coffee, eyes narrowed at the glowing blue guy. ]

Where'd you pick this one up?

Wash chuckles softly, and he stays leaning against York's body comfortably for a few moments more. "I..." There's so much he wants to say and he settles for kissing the back of his neck. "You're amazing."

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