goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"...good point!" Fuck me pants it is. Still jeans just- a little more worn, a little soft, but they cradle his ass like no one's business and make his business look good. That and a casual tee that's a little tight around the shoulders and he's feeling good enough to walk out to Carolina and give her a turn. "I think I'm good. You?"

[ It's been awhile since he'd last shared a bed with the intent to sleep. Passed out with? Sure. Actually meaning to sleep? Not so much. But it's Carolina. He knows the pattern of her breath, the scent of her hair- gun oil and ozone and warmth. It's almost easy to unwind enough to sleep, to turn to shelter her and drape his arm around her while they slept. Waking happens slow and as much as he probably wants to start breakfast...

This is nice. Dozing with her curled against him, no immanent threat. No mission. Just. Warmth and an idle dozing. ]

There's an alarm sounding somewhere. An alert. He doesn't care. The next guard that comes at him from through the door gets thrown right against the crack- as much as Delta doesn't agree with this course of action he will help him be precise about it-

The glass gives. Shatters. York vaults after the body and rolls through the shards, sprinting for Wash.

He's only vaguely aware of anything going on around him. Hard to pay attention when his mind is unravelling, tearing itself apart, trying to rebuild and restructure around what's being forced into him. The screams are broken with sobs, great gulps of air and tears running down his face. It hurts and he doesn't have time to care. It hurts and he can feel blood trickling down the back of his neck. It hurts and that's all there is and- "I'm sorry i'm sorry i'll be good i'll be better i'll obey please stop."

Delta knows what he's looking for before he thinks to ask, hands scrabbling at the machine at the nape of Wash's neck, detaching it, shutting it down and pulling it out before someone, anyone can come for him. It's not like he'll be able to get out of here without getting his ass kicked but like hell he's leaving Wash to this.

Not again.

Not when he can stop it.

"Wash? Wash. It's over, it's over I need you to look at me, okay? Open your eyes-"

Her talons splay over her lips as he steps on out to twirl on the nonexistant catwalk. As humans go, he was certainly a specimin, scars and all, and there's a smirk of approval for him once he's facing her again. "I won't worry about waiting up," she teases.

It's gone as suddenly as it's started and the cessation of it hits him nearly as hard as the start of it had. He sages in the restraints, sobbing quietly, struggling for breath. There's hands on the back of his neck, movement, someone talking. Hard to focus when his break is still sparking. It only slowly resolves into recognisable words.

And it- it's an order so he opens his eyes, stares at York blankly.

"Wash? Say something man, come on." He keeps one hand on Wash's jaw while he scrabbles at the wristbands, ignoring the shouting behind him. A sealed room means sealed but apparently someone doesn't know how to work the lock. If he was smart he'd grab a weapon but he's not being all that smart right now. All and all he gives himself about ten to fifteen seconds before someone man's up and knocks him out.

Everything seems slowed down and sluggish right now, even his own reactions. He blinks slowly at York. The hand on his jaw feels... nice. He thinks.

"I- I'm supposed to stop you. They said that. It's orders. I have to follow orders. I have to."

"No one SAID shit, they beamed it into your BRAIN like assholes how the fuck do you not call this brainwashing-" Arms, wrists, waist, ankles- okay he's up. He slings Wash's arm around his shoulders and tries to get him to his feet. "Come on, we're going. I don't know WHERE but we're getting you out of this room, fuck this room, fuck this machine."

"If I'd obeyed they wouldn't need to hurt me," he mumbled, slumping back in the chair and closing his eyes again. "Not brainwashing. Just reminding me of my orders." He didn't move when York unfastened the restraints, not until he's grabbed and has to stand and it's hard, really hard, when his legs feel weak and his head is pounding and he feels so heavy.

"I'm supposed to stay. Stay until I'm dismissed."

"Can you now," she replies evenly, allowing some amusement to show, but the offer certainly sounds valid, extended though it is without consulation with Delta.

But she doesn't think he'll need to take long on that. Delta plans, plays the long game, and likely had her staying on for longer in mind long before he contacted her.

Damn him, she thinks affectionately. She hadn't been struggling lately, and her last job had been temp, with good chance of rehire the following year. But this job, she'd actually had to put her skills to use. And working with her client wasn't quite as stuffy or politically tiring as bodyguard duty elsewhere had been.. "Talk with Delta when he wakes up. If there's an offer to be made that won't look like nepotism, then I'll consider it."

Given she's being paid very well for One Night Only, she can't say she's not intrigued by what a longer term job might provide.

[ At some point she sighs, shifting closer, head moving to rest where the curve of his throat meets his clavicle and her free arm shifting so she rests on it more comfortably. There's no alarm, no flinch, no concern that at some point he's draped an arm over her, it's all very comfortable.

Like a dream, one she's so rarely allowed herself. One that she tucked away and looked back at no more once he'd died. Or she'd thought he had. They'd all believed he had.

And now, instead, a new dream. One that she stirs from slowly, breathing changing and shifting as her body moves back into a more aware state. Nature's call may also be playing a part in rousing her. Then a pause, as she realises where she is, who she's with, exactly what kind of position they are in. Someone might think, might get the wrong impression...

...Or, someone might just get the right one. Her breathing resumes, a slow and steady pace, and she rolls onto her side a little more - all the better to shift herself partially upwards, to look down at him sleeping. (Is he still sleeping?) ]

Edited (unfortunate typo correction lol) 2015-09-13 18:16 (UTC)

"Fuck that and fuck them." He mutters, cradling Wash against his side as he starts for the door. He won't get far but- the attempt counts, right? IT matters that he's trying. "Fuck staying."

He's torn between curling against York's side and pulling away. He should stop him, should be obedient, but York had- "You came back for me."

Memories are a malleable thing, his mind confused enough that that's all that matters right now. York had come back for him.

"Couldn't find you before." He mutters, hauling Wash along till they get to the door. Nowhere to check, no armor, no weapons. They are not getting far- but his point has been made. He's a threat and he is PISSED OFF. "Got you this time. Gonna get real crowded in a sec so hang on, okay? Okay."

He doesn't slide the door open so much as kick it and even in only the undersuit? He's got force. He's got means. He's PISSED OFF and that'll grant him any extra force he can Needs. The hall is, in fact, crowded. Their guns are all, in fact, pointed right at them. York keeps himself between Wash and the crowd, glaring. "I'll go back to my room but like FUCK are you taking him from me."

"Okay," he agrees. It's easier to do that if it's an order, easier to think around whatever they'd put in his head. It'll die down eventually. He'd only been in there for a few minutes. He clings to York as they approach the door and he winces when he kicks it open, the sound stabbing into his skull.

There's about twenty guns pointing at them. More than that. Wash hooks his chin against York's shoulder, brings his lips close to his ear. "Camo units," he whispers, a warning about what else might be waiting before he pulls away, staggers to keep himself upright and holds up his arms.

"Being one of D's friends and his highest paying star doesn't make him give me preferential treatment. I dunno if he knows the meaning of the word." It wasn't possible for him as far as York knew. Still, the possibility of having Carolina on longer- that was a nice one. She was stern, but not stuffy, patient but didn't put up with his shit. Now that he thinks of it? It seems like the familial resemblance extends beyond the green eyes.

Stupidly green eyes.

[ By the time she starts moving to look he's blinking himself awake, all crooked, lazy smiles and warm skin. Like he'd always dreamed of, like he's just enough out of it to actually do, he reaches up to slide his hand along her cheek and curl in her hair, smoothing her bangs out of her face. ]

Morn'n beautiful.

[ And she is. She's always been. ]

"You are not putting him back in that chair." He should've broken the machine. Didn't think to. Too busy trying to get Wash out of it, get him somewhere safe. Surrounded, outnumbered, out gunned- he holds his hands up but still does what he can to keep Wash behind him. "Seriously. Not gonna happen."

"Awesome!" Sure does give himself a little fist pump. Looking good isn't something he really thought too much about when he'd gotten back. He figured he wouldn't. Hasn't thought of himself as 'the pretty one' in a long time but it feels nice to have that confidence back. "Spicy Thai. Plum wine to go with it or do you wanna try some of their sodas?"

"Wine will do," plum or other wise. It helps offset too much spice, not that she's ever had much fear of that. That he's looking confident is good. She hopes it lasts.

She'd no doubt get to see what sort of date he'd found for sport come morning. "I wouldn't recommend having any until you've eaten, and water besides. Depending on how long you expect your sporting to last."

There's too many of them. York might be fine, maybe, but he can barely stand. He should never have got York involved. He sways on his feet, drops his arms because holding them up is exhausting. "I- I'm-" He's obedient, he's compliant, he follows orders and no, no, he can't think, he can't get around it.

"York... it's easier if you just... comply. If I do."

[ 'Beautiful'. It's been a long time since anyone told her that, sincerely, and she leans a little into the hand cupping her cheek, reaching with her own to lightly comb his hair back. The longer look could take come getting used to -- but she thinks she could. ]

Good morning, Taylor. [her voice is deeper, a little heavy with sleep, and finger trails from hair to lightly trace a path along his cheek, down to his jaw.] Didn't mean to wake you.

There are others that would exploit it, however. That rival of his, for example. But if it's only for a holiday..

One vacation would allow them to see if it were possible for something more long term. If they couldn't handle things while at peace, then it mattered little how well things went during 'business hours'. Said stupidly green eyes regarding the emptying contents of her mug, before she looks up at him. "All right. If you can talk Delta around to it, then we can give it a trial. If we can survive it, and each other, then we can talk something more long term."

That he's cute doesn't hurt, either. Even if she knows exactly how far flirting with the management can go in these cases.

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York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

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York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

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York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

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York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

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