[ He seems to relax a bit as he watches York whip the batter into shape, prepping it for waffle creation. Stubborn was most definitely a family trait. ]
"..Yeah, well, she's changed too. And that's a good thing. Moving on's a bitch, but here we are.
Something like that, can thank an EMP for that. And Caboose. Reds and Blues got my storage unit out of range of the Meta. Wash is doing great! You know. Looking after our box canyon idiots. He..and I don't really talk much, I leave that to Carolina."
Leave what to me?
[ Asks the barefoot woman stepping into the kitchen, toweling off her hair. She's not wearing a grifball shirt - the long sleeves of the plaid flannel shirt have been rolled up to her elbows, and while it fits her frame otherwise, the body is long enough to reach to past mid-thigh. Which is good, because she wasn't going to wear his undergarments and the spare drawstring pants she could find? Were a tent on her.
It's not remotely revealing, and oddly comfortable, and yet Epsilon is DEFINITELY grinning. For someone who has a helmet and visor for a face. ]
"Conversation. Like this one. Morning C, later C."
[ And off he logs, leaving the two humans to each other. ]
no subject
[ He seems to relax a bit as he watches York whip the batter into shape, prepping it for waffle creation. Stubborn was most definitely a family trait. ]
"..Yeah, well, she's changed too. And that's a good thing. Moving on's a bitch, but here we are.
Something like that, can thank an EMP for that. And Caboose. Reds and Blues got my storage unit out of range of the Meta. Wash is doing great! You know. Looking after our box canyon idiots. He..and I don't really talk much, I leave that to Carolina."
Leave what to me?
[ Asks the barefoot woman stepping into the kitchen, toweling off her hair. She's not wearing a grifball shirt - the long sleeves of the plaid flannel shirt have been rolled up to her elbows, and while it fits her frame otherwise, the body is long enough to reach to past mid-thigh. Which is good, because she wasn't going to wear his undergarments and the spare drawstring pants she could find? Were a tent on her.
It's not remotely revealing, and oddly comfortable, and yet Epsilon is DEFINITELY grinning. For someone who has a helmet and visor for a face. ]
"Conversation. Like this one. Morning C, later C."
[ And off he logs, leaving the two humans to each other. ]