"Yessir Marshal Dad Sir." There's snickering on the other end of the line- York is probably buying himself trouble but hey, if it breaks the tension. He gives his own thumbs up and breathes through the slow glide of the damn neural gel filling up the helmet, coating his face. Jesus.
Okay. Just. breathe. Don't chase the rabbit. Breathe.
"Initiating in-" And of COURSE Delta's announcing this shit, like that'll put him in the best mindset. Oh well, nothing for it. Breathe. "Three. Two. One-"
He's him and he's not and he's HER and he's him? it's. A mashup of images. His shit he can pack away and ignore, he's used to that. Carolina's- half of him wants to bury himself in the memory of her arms and her laugh and her smile, in jogging, fighting, breathing, LIVING as her and he manages just barely to shove himself back into alighment just in time to tip headfirst into Malcolm.
God.
It's all- sound and sensation and precise, orderly lines of thought, a logical progression based not entirely on chronological progression but of subject and sentiment and it's- overwhelming in how fucking COMPLICATED he is. Clair had been easy, a soldier like him, a soldier like him. All adrenaline and faster harder stronger stand and hold and beat them down so we get another sunrise not- tactics. Movement. Calculation and velocity and he's staggered by the depth of it, flowing along for the ride.
no subject
Okay. Just. breathe. Don't chase the rabbit. Breathe.
"Initiating in-" And of COURSE Delta's announcing this shit, like that'll put him in the best mindset. Oh well, nothing for it. Breathe. "Three. Two. One-"
He's him and he's not and he's HER and he's him? it's. A mashup of images. His shit he can pack away and ignore, he's used to that. Carolina's- half of him wants to bury himself in the memory of her arms and her laugh and her smile, in jogging, fighting, breathing, LIVING as her and he manages just barely to shove himself back into alighment just in time to tip headfirst into Malcolm.
God.
It's all- sound and sensation and precise, orderly lines of thought, a logical progression based not entirely on chronological progression but of subject and sentiment and it's- overwhelming in how fucking COMPLICATED he is. Clair had been easy, a soldier like him, a soldier like him. All adrenaline and faster harder stronger stand and hold and beat them down so we get another sunrise not- tactics. Movement. Calculation and velocity and he's staggered by the depth of it, flowing along for the ride.