goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

..I know.

[ Her answer is a little husky, from memory, from regret. She holds his gaze a moment, before letting it follow his movement, letting him lean into her space, stay there as long as he wants. A week ago, he was dead and she was alive and on a mission. Days ago, she was still reeling from the shock of his survival, and now, here they are, flirting in the kitchen, and there's such promise in the way he's looking at her.

And York is most certainly a man of his word.

She murmurs 'thank you' for the bottle, popping the cap and pouring the syrup over her waffle, perhaps a little too much by normal standards, but there's more than one reason for that. Once she's done, she swipes over the nozzle to clear any excess dribble away, before setting the bottle back between them.

And licks her fingers clean absently. ]

"I need my number two back," Carolina says. "I need him sharp and committed and a good soldier." Not scattered and distracted like Wash has been since York showed up. He's all that she has left. The one certain point in her life right now.

"It's not like that," she adds, her thumb brushing against the port at the back of Wash's neck. She can feel him tense beneath the touch. "Can you really say I'm not me anymore. That Wash isn't himself?"

She'll teach him the basics to build up to this level of casting at some point; silent prowling can be a useful glyph to cast on ones self, for example. For now, however, she nods acknowledgement as she heads off to get the food.

She doesn't feel drained, which is fortunate. And even if she had, the meal York's called in for her would do the trick to settle things. Veiling herself between world layers, she settles back on the couch. Just in case. Once the door closes, she'll will herself to appear again.

"When he was fresh out of the chair? No. No I can't. When any attempt to BE yourself is squashed out of sheer fucking terror of being put back in the chair? No. You're glassing a planet. The woman I knew, the woman I followed? Wouldn't stand for that. Not for anything. The friend I lost in the project? Wouldn't go with it. And that it took all of a few weeks for him to see the light and come back from that? Is damning and you know it." They aren't them. They're shades.

They're puppets.

"You need to not be here. You need to not be a part of some sick bastard's collection."

[ Oh good. She's on the same page.

Wait. She's on the same PAGE. It's an OPTION. They're both DOWN.

Why are they still eating breakfast again? He blinks at her for a long moment, trying to gauge when it would be appropriate to lean in and finally, finally kiss her when she does that thing.

That thing with the syrup.

And her fingers.

And her mouth.

And his mind flatlines for a second. ]

...you're trying to kill me.

Down to the front and back up, order in his arms and a bright smile on his face. A good night ahead and a good night in for his roomie (his demon pal he needs to think MORE about that) but it's all. Good.

For once.

He opens the door one handed and sets her meal out on the coffee table. "I really need to invest in a proper dining set. I think I've got room."

"D." He murmurs, leaning enough to knock shoulders with Delta. "Sun or snow this time? I'm good with either." Somewhere quiet. Somewhere isolated. Somewhere he can not be on all the time, that'd be nice.

"Don't call him that," Wash and Carolina said, and after everything, it was more obvious that it was a programmed reaction. Wash gave a frustrated noise and pulled away from both of them, going to curl against the back corner of his bed, knees drawn up to his chest. He banged his head back against the wall a couple of times, eyes tightly shut. Fuck, he couldn't do it. He couldn't stop it.

"Wash..." Carolina began, reaching for him. She knew what he had to be feeling. He'd seen her in the same state.

I'd rather not. I only just found you again.

[ Said sincerely, and entirely deadpan - how can someone stay so straight faced at a time like this? Knife and fork are lifted, because there are waffles to eat, and her foot is lightly grazing his ankle, dragging up under his pants leg a little.

Sugar and waffles are energy. Even after a good night's sleep, it doesn't hurt to refuel before engaging in other long overdue activities. Fortunately, it really doesn't take her that long to eat anyway.

She waggles her fork at his plate. ]

It's getting cold.

Only once the door closes does she fade in again, already as eager as the cat as the scent of new food wafts her way. Mmmm yes please.

"If you think that you'll host meals here, it is something to consider." Space is always at a premium, that much she's gathered from his bitching about the rent, so including that here would mean it has double duty.

There does appear to be some surprise at the question, Delta resettling his glasses on his nose. "You went white water rafting last time," he points out reasonably. "So I assumed you wanted to consider the Alps - though you would need to decide between the French and the Swiss." A pause. "Or did you want to go to Japan?"

Said, while the details Carolina requested are slid over the table her way, and the redhead excuses herself to make a few phonecalls a room over.

"David." York corrects, slipping up to get his hand between Wash's skull and the wall. All he needs is a suit of armor- hell. All he needs is a port to connect Delta. They can work out the rest. They WILL work out the rest. "Babe- Hey."

He flops down onto his side next to him- leaving room for Carolina to do whatever, and tries tugging Wash away from the wall. "Don't do that."

[ No fair. It's supposed to be HIS turn to be all smooth and shit.

Well fine.

If she's gonna be like that, the next time she takes a bite full of waffle he catches her wrist and leans in, taking it off her fork with an exaggerated play of lips and tongue along the tines. ]

Not from where I'm sitting.

"It'd give me somewhere better to shoot, too." Huh. Something to think about. For now he checks his phone for the time and heads back to the door, waving. "I'll be back after dinner. Use my netflix account if you wanna watch anything and don't scare the downstairs neighbours again. Those conversations are awkward."

"You know what? I think Japan. There's some nice, quiet spots in the north isn't there? Also: Hot springs. And local music." And sake, but he's trying to not overindulge. It's somewhere new and for him? New is good. New is great.

He keeps doing it, like the physical pain will ease some of the feeling of the pressure in his skull. One more bang and then he hits flesh, York's fingers cradling his skull, pulling him away from the wall. He's fraying quickly, close to breaking. "I want it over," he says, voice harsh with pain. "I can't keep doing this. I can feel it in my head and I hate it and it need to be over. So finish me, or get Control to break me one last time and shove me in their Meta Armour, or just give me a gun so I can end it myself."

Carolina rests her hand on his shoulder, slides it down along his arm.

"Their what?" What. WHat the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck Delta starts all but screaming in the back of his head at the name and that has him shuddering, trying to calm down both Wash AND D and not managing either all that well. "their what? CLair what are they planning?"

The name seems to hit something in Carolina, and for a second there's a flash of hurt in her eyes, and her expression falters. "They recovered Maine's body," she says bluntly. "They want to recreate the Meta, the thing he became, as a kind of weapon. A berserker. Won't question orders. Just kill." She takes a breath, grits her teeth.

"I'll arrange it." Old and new, busy and quiet. And the train system would get them from one to the other in a reasonable length of time.

There's a glance towards the occupied sideroom - the one he used for sleep. "She mentioned you wanted to add another to the party?"

"Her." A beat. "She's good at what she does. I trust her. She covered me pretty well, knows her shit, and doesn't take any from me."

"..." Okay. New plan. Brand new plan. If they have the armor and the upgrades-

D, do you think you could-

Yes.

No question, no hesitation. Yes.

That could be the tipping point. He has to make sure he can keep them safe on the run for it. And keep them from digging into armonia. "He's been trying to get you both broken to do it."

There is a tight nod from Carolina. "Yes. They haven't said as much, but it's easy to make a guess. We have the AI ports already. It'll be one of us."

"Maine deserved better," Wash says, a vicious savagery in his voice. It's easier to feel anger for Maine than it is for himself. "They have him there, his armour, strung up like a fucking trophy."

[ Now who's being unfair?

And eating her own food, too. Isn't your own breakfast good enough for you? Never mind that her eyes follow exactly the path that teeth, lips and tongue take to eat her slice of waffle. Never mind the tingling in her skin at the grasp of his hand on her wrist. ]

If you wanted to share, all you had to do was ask first.

[But no. He had to go cross the line. She waits until he sits back, relaxes his grip on her wrist a little, and resumes as she did before. Making a point to flick a little dribble of syrup along his wrist. She's quite adamant about not losing about bite, however. ]

"I wasn't that loud," she pouts, liberating her meal from the bag, setting the cartons out beside her plate. "You did not warn me that your 'scary movies' were such dull comedy. Now, those 'romances', those are the truly horrific things."

How could anyone watch that drivel and take it even remotely seriously? Ergh.

"And you trust her." That seems the most important part, to Delta's mind. Even with past bodyguards brought on before, all of whom had been competent employees, this was the first time that Taylor wanted one with them.

He can't say he's not at least a little relieved at the fact.

"Very well. Do we need to find a translator as well?" He handles foreign languages well enough, but it wasn't guaranteed that people there spoke English.

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