goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

Plenty of time. [Or there will be. She's planted those distractions for a reason. Just as she and Epsilon planned. Her tone remains even, confident. Panicking now will only jeopardize matters.] I'm going to seal the doors we entered from.

[84%.]

If you say so. [ He'd rather KEEP the wiggle room he earned, thank you very much. ] Mind the first hall to the left- I heard some chatter. Might be nothing, but- Better safe than sorry, eh?

[ Come on you little fucking thing DOWNLOAD FASTER. Jesus. ]

[It's still there. You're good, for another minute and thirty. She's already moved into the other hallway, a careful stalk. The phased colour of her armor's disguise blending her in with the dark. But whatever sounds he thought he heard turn up empty corridors.

And then she's moving back. Swiftly. Quietly. Was he diverting her? Does he want to steal the data?! She can't rule this out now, and the part of her that is unnecessarily ruthless is prepared to make him tell her *everything*... ]

We're clear. [A little snappy] Time?

Really? Must've been mistaken- but I could have sworn... [ He flicks through his own trackers in the halls just outside his position and- sure he'd HEARD chatter but there's nothing there.

That is odd. That is not right. Someone's using the PA system to fuck with him? But no one knows they're here.

They need to wrap this up. Now. ]

Sixty seconds. Cameras are still on loop, no alarms triggered, no one knows we're here. [ Worried, now, he shifts over to an adjacent port, fiddling through encryptions and frequencies till he can tap into the standard communications broadcast used on the base. ] ...Bitching about coffee grounds. They were complaining about LUNCH.

[ Now her eyes DO roll, and glad she is that the helmet obscures that, even as her head starts that old familiar roll, giving the action away. She tries to twist it into something else, turning about face as though checking behind her instead.]

Just be ready to go once it hits it's mark. We have extra cover to keep our unwitting hosts distracted.

[ That. That's- stupidly familiar. He knows that posture, even if it melds into something different.

Just.

Someone that does that a lot. In armor. Maybe her partner's a sassy bastard too.

He swallows past the sudden lump in his throat and focuses on the readout. Fifteen. Ten. ]

Three, two...ah, here we are. All done.

[ He uncaps from the port he used to peek into their frequency and removes the device, offering it to Blue. ]

[And not a moment too soon. When offered, the data drive is taken without any delay. 'Blue' moves to conceal it within her armor, nodding at the exposed display and the open ports. He might even catch a glimpse of the data contents while closing up shop, but that depends on how long he feels like lingering, that, and dealing with an impatient employer, ]

Lock it up, then we'll get moving. Stay behind me until I say otherwise, [guarding his rear is important - especially since she has no intention of letting him slip away without answers.]

[ He does peek for a moment, curious, but doesn't linger. They don't have time for it and whatever they're getting into? He'll know about it for the next job. Right now they need to lock up and get out without getting got.

Easy.

This is, usually, where everything went to shit. He'll just have to hope their luck holds out. ]

Noted. After you.

[ Even now, she doesn't rely on luck, doesn't believe in it in spite of circumstances in her life that could only have happened due to the bored dice rolls of the gods. Once they're on the move, she doesn't look back; she uses the eye-HUD connection to send a quick text message to Epsilon, to get the ball rolling on their distraction.

There's a delay. There's always a delay. Her hand lifts, a closed fist, signalling for Humphrey to stop. Waiting...waiting...]

[ Move now, but wait up? Maybe something's gone wrong with the distraction? Maybe the timing is off for the next round of guards?

WHAT WOMAN?

He says nothing, of course Humphrey is too civil, but York seethes in his helmet. ]

[ It's a good thing that commentary stays inside his head. She'd be even less thrilled with him if he decided to become a greater inconvenience. As it is, her fist remains held, and Carolina waits. Ignores the trickle of sweat she can feel firming on her brow, ignores the worry creeping a cold finger down her spine.

And then, a fwhoooooom, as half the electricity across the site goes down, taking some lights with them. Yells follow, in the distance, as various devices go off. Time to get going while the chaos is good.

Her hand drops, and she breaks into a sprint. Go go go!]

What the shite?

[ That is not a LITTLE distraction. That is- bedlam. It's BEDLAM is what it is but he doesn't have time to ask- just sprints after her. It'd be easier if he had the armor and he can't really police how he's moving but- halls a hall and some shit is in the way- he vaults. Slides and sprints and uses every skill he ever had in the project to keep right on her heels.

The last thing he needs to do is slow her down.

Door's up front and if he's lucky, it's the same sort of lock as the rest. He slides into place, hands flying up to test the matrix and- yep. Backdoor in place. He threads that line of code in and out to unspool it, to pop it open and they're home free. ]

[ she checks her pace - has to, so that he can keep up. She was always swift even before the speed unit, but she gave her word he would get out of here without issue, and she means to keep her word. But he keeps up - in spite of himself, in spite if her, and she knows for certain now he wasn't just a member of the regular rank and file.

While he works over the door, she guards his back. Waits for him to get moving, waits until the door starts sliding shut again before she leaps through and follows him.

You're only free once you know you're not being followed. When she takes the lead once more Carolina doesn't return directly back the way they came. Keeping off moss and vegetation where she can, there's a series of caves some distance nearby that they can lose themselves in for a while. Just until they're certain..]

[ Caves, ah, his old friend. He lived in one for awhile, it was nice. Cool, mossy, private. Neighbors sucked though. He keeps pace easily, even if it's been forever since he's been in the field, only slowing when she lets him. He slumps against the nearest boulder once they're in the clear, chuckling to himself.

Wow. Now that? That was almost FUN. ]

Good show, mate.

[ Funny how the adrenaline rush of an evac can change your opinion post-mission.

She's not winded, but even Carolina can appreciate the need to slow down (no, really!) and catch her breath, though even once they're clear, she's already circling the edge of their retreat, scanning for any possible followers.

Something in his pithy comment gives her reason to pause, however, and she turns to look at him. ]

A show, is it?

It's a compliment! [ It takes a little bit of hefting and a wince since it IS his bad shoulder, but he manages to vault on top of the boulder to sit. Lounge. All casual like. ] If the next leg of this goes half as well I may put any requests from you at the top of my queue.

Getting ahead of yourself there. [when he actually looks at her, once he's settled on his high perch, he'll notice her arms folded over her chest. An almost painfully familiar tilt to her hips.] I have some questions for you.

[and neither of us are leaving until they are answered.]

[ Okay this has gone beyond vague similarities and hit right on the painful. She's dead. She can't be here, glaring at him, demanding answers. But that posture is just so-

And the way she'd run.

But Carolina is DEAD. There's no way-

Is there?

He drums his hands on his thighs- sure he's been careful about posture, about his voice, but that? The drumming, the humming, the odd tattoo that he'd always done. It's pretty damning. ]

Ask away.

It's not yours. [what.] The digital key you're using to bump the locks. It's not yours.

[Epsilon saw it, checked in passing, recognised D's old signature. Using a dead man's tools, things he hadn't earned. Had to have stolen.

Because the alternative simply isn't possible.

The coldness of her tone is almost at odds with the cadence of what should be a chipper voice.] Where did you get it from.

Ah, that? It is mine. [ He drapes is arms over his knees, head angled slightly to the side, peering down at her. ] I have no idea what you're implying. My old partner and I developed it together.

[ A beat. ]

He's dead now.

And drop the accent. [a definite glower tilt now]

On at least one of those counts, you're correct. [York IS dead. And she's not going to let someone else sponge off his work] ..You can take your payment. Leave that here. And we part ways.

...Alright fine. [ Away goes the accent. ] Look, I appreciate what you're doing and, hell, I'll help with the next leg without the paycheck. Okay? I know what you're looking for and I was pretty sure that thing got destroyed with the rest of the armor. Call it unfinished business.

[For a moment, it's like the world drops out from under her feet. There's a jerk to her helmet; not quite like she's been slapped, but he could easily read it as surprise - and he'd even be right, though not about the cause.]

...I don't know what you're talking about.

Sure. Okay. That's fine, you know? Don't need to tell me anything just don't turn me over. I kind of have a vested interest in keeping my head down. [ He peels off his helmet and scrubs a hand through his hair, blinking down at her. Without the glasses his cataract is more obvious. ] Also uh- how did you know about the accent and the backdoor?

["Hoooooly shit," says Epsilon, his verbal shock adding to the ringing in her ears as the helmet comes off. Such is her surprise that she takes a half step back. Unable to process the reality before her, even as something blooms hard and hot deep in her chest. She's glad she didn't draw her weapon, because she's certain she'd have dropped it by now.

With long hair tied back and his eyes unveiled, even the scraggy patch of beard he's managed to grow over the years can't hide his identity now. And worn and tired and thin as he is...he's alive. He's alive. ]

..You're dead. You're...the reports all said you were dead.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject