goddamngrenades | RP Open Post

"I am alright." He doesn't sound convincing at all. He'd like for things to be alright though. He just doesn't see how they can be.

The sound he makes his something close to a sob, stifled against the mattress. What would that do to an AI? He supposes it makes sense. Make them want to do everything to protect their Freelancers. And he's sorry, so sorry, that Epsilon had remembered too much.

There's no saying that it'll be okay- what happened to Epsilon? Is burned into Wash's skin and into his memory. There's no undoing it. There's no moving past it, not when they're here. But York can and does tug the covers up over them. Tangle his legs with Wash's and catch his chin with his hand to lean in and press their lips together. Soft and brief and chaste. Nothing but comfort intended.

He's not crying. He's really not. He's just tired, aching, exhausted from the day. He wouldn't be doing this if he was in the right frame of mind. He kisses back gently. There's no expectation in it, no demand. It's nice. He settles down a little after that, drags one of York's arms around him.

Excellent work, York.

Not helping D.

Was this not the desired outcome?

Empathy and connection, yes, exhausted crying? No.

York takes the invitation as it's given and curls protectively around Wash. Here if nowhere else he has his back. "I got you."

"Liar," Wash says quietly, but he can't muster any venom or bite for it. Right now, here, he wants to believe that. And it's so easy to drift off to sleep with York there.

They get a few hours rest- no one's supposed to come in or even knock aside from Wash or Carolina. Which, of course, means that whenever someone DOES come by?

It's....

Carolina.

When Wash hadn't reported back after feeding York, she'd had her suspicions. Enough so that she's not entirely surprised to find them tangled together, quietly desperate and utterly exhausted.

A small part of her twinges with envy before she shoves it down. Soldiers do not feel envy. Soldiers do not feel, period.

"Wash." Soft. Curt. A command that has York twitching awake and glaring past her- not at her. Odd. "What are you doing?"

He jerks awake when he hears that voice Fuck. Oh god, he has screwed up so badly this time. Stares at Carolina in abject horror for a moment before the rest of him catches up and he scrambles out of bed, out of the warm circle of York's arms. It's hard to look properly respectful when you're dressed in what amounts to pyjamas, but he does his best, spine straight, hands clasped behind him.

"Carolina, I-" He doesn't have an excuse. He doesn't have anything. Not this time.

"Save it." She'll deal with him later. Right now she's glaring across the room at York, jaw working tight under her helmet. It's easier to remember her place while she's in uniform.

Some people forget too easily. And others never learn.

"What are you doing?" Wash is wash. He wants approval which she gives. What she can't offer is affection. York's always been good at that.

"Trying to sleep. Wash is a great pillow." He shrugs, loose and languid and the suit does nothing to hide the slope of his shoulders.

"Sleeping with the enemy isn't a sound tactic-"

"He's not." York cuts in, sharp, startling her into silence. "You're not either."

"Yes sir," Wash says, lowering his head. "Are... you're going to tell Control, aren't you?"

A lapse like this, she has to. And the thought terrifies him.

"I said that too," he adds quietly. They're York's enemies, in the end. They have him prisoner, they could threaten to EMP him to destroy Delta. And he's still acting like they mean something.

"I used my wiles for hot cuddling action. He's innocent. Relatively speaking." There's that crooked grin, that easy angling of his shoulders and there's a distance there that had'nt been in his eyes before. Something calm. Gauging- no.

Calculating. She shouldn't have let him grab Delta. She should yank him out of his neck and walk away but-

"If we aren't your enemies then-"

"Hargrove. Come on, Carolina, ask me something hard." He snorts and she growls, stepping forward.

"What did you do before you came to the radio tower?"

York goes still at that. He hadn't expected it. "Huh?"

"It won't happen again," Wash says, looking between them. "I'm sorry. It was a lapse and I'll take whatever punishment you give me." He'd make it better. He had to make it better.

And then she asks that and Wash stares at her, eyes wide with shock. "What are you talking about?"

"The situation on Chorus has changed. And he has something to do with it. So tell me, York. What did you do before you went to the Radio Tower?" She crosses her arms and leans back against the doorframe.

"...Had a cup of coffee?"

"What do you mean, changed?" Wash asks, and there's a horrible suspicion in his gut. No, he knows. Or he thinks he knows, and if York had pulled it off, that was... incredible.

He glances over his shoulder at York. "He came after me. That's all. He wanted to shoot me. You saw that."

"I don't really remember? I was kind of in shock what with having been betrayed. Again. Guess I got one of those faces?" Something in how he says the word takes some of the sting out of it, makes it a joke instead of a barb.

Carolina glowers, eyes snapping over to Wash. "The Feds and the New Republic have decided to set aside their differences and work together."

York's stillness comes from Delta locking down any possible reaction rather than genuine skill. "Why do I get the feeling you had something to do with that, York?"

"They have?" He'd thought that was impossible, even before they'd arrived to fuck things up worse. But York had managed it. He'd somehow managed to make it work, and for all that it's bad, so bad for them, he can't help but feel relief, and a little bit of pride for what York had managed.

"So they managed to talk to each other. That's not an insurmountable obstacle," he continues, wanting to deflect Carolina from York.

"It's a complication. The remaining New Republic forces have fallen back to Armonia." An aerial assault would be next to impossible without risking the reactor and the stockpile of alien weaponry hoarded in the capital. They'll need a new angle to work now that the cleanest sweep is no longer an option.

York blinks once, twice, and looks at Wash. "Am I a particularly compelling person or am I an asshole? Because I"m pretty sure I can't do shit like make people set aside their differences long enough to work together. If that was the case I'd have been a diplomat, not a soldier."

Armonia is heavily fortified, difficult to get into. It's a fair setback for them. But part of him is pleased. Kimball's a smart woman. "We've dealt with complications before."

He meets York's gaze for a brief moment then looks sharply away, back at Carolina. "You know he's never been good at organising stuff like that. What would he have done?"

"The also have found simulation troopers, some sort of group of great heroes." Here York snorts a soft laugh.

"Oh christ, those guys? I passed their camp weeks ago and they are NOT heroes. They're idiots." Idiots that apparently killed The Meta and managed to not get killed by Charon's forces just yet- but the more he can downplay them the better. If they aren't a valid threat, Carolina won't focus on them.

"I don't know WHAT he did, but he did something. What else would prompt the move?" Carolina takes another step forward, shoulder to shoulder with wash, glaring down at York on the bed.

"Someone played a funny voicemail? I dunno, Clair- hgk!"

That's a name he doesn't get to say- her hand's around his throat in a heartbeat, squeezing. "Do NOT Call me that!"

"Yeah, I remember. I scoped them out ages ago, Carolina. Dismissed them as not being a threat." They'd looked incapable of forming even a reasonable camp. He'd just been going to leave them to die, maybe pick them off if he wanted some entertainment.

Carolina steps up next to him, and he feels dwarfed next to her, weak and childish. She's the one who deals with Control. She's the one who hands down orders and punishments.

He still doesn't expect her to grab York and he turns to her, rests a hand on her arm. "Carolina, you can't damage him. Control wants him. He's part of the boss's collection."

"He wants York compliant. I think we've been giving him too much for too little in return." She hauls York up onto his knees on the bed, other hand sneaking back to rest on Delta's chip. "Talk or you lose your friend."

"Take him and you got nothing to keep me in this room." There's no blood on his teeth when he smiles, but it's just as vicious as her voice. "Next time I get out? I'm blow'n something up. So think REAL hard if that's worth it."

"You can't do that, Carolina," Wash says, his grip tightening on her shoulder. "You don't want to. You of everyone... you'd know what it's like to have your AI ripped out. You're not the Meta. You're not the- the monster they want to create."

"No, I'm a soldier and I follow orders! I am ORDERING you to talk!" SHe gives York a shake, like that'll rattle the truth out of him.

She doesn't expect his hands to slip from her wrist to the caches on her helmet. Doesn't have time to stop him from pulling it off.

Definitely doesn't have time to think about what he's planning when he pulls her in and-

Rests his forehead against hers.

"You don't have to be a soldier all the time, Carolina."

"There's better ways to do this!" Wash says, trying to pull her arm away. But she's wearing armour and once it's locked, there's no way he can get her to move while he's not wearing his.

York is obviously insane. Wash glares at him, because it feels wrong to have someone drag her helmet off, feels like a violation. And then he's touching her, resting his head against hers.

"What are you doing?" This doesn't- this isn't- he shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't. It doesn't make SENSE. Her hand is on his throat, her fingers on Delta's chip and his hands are on her face. Holding her like she held him yesterday.

"Making a point? Winging it." He shrugs and the tendons under her palm creak- she legs go of his throat, pushes herself away, eyes wide. That isn't-

"Suit up. Report to Control." To Wash. Orders. She can give orders. "We'll discuss your indiscretion later."

He knows her pretty well by now and he doesn't think he's ever seen her this unsettled. Not while they've been working together for Charon anyway.

And then the moment is gone. "Carolina..." The sharp bite of her words strikes like a whip, and he has to be a soldier again. "Yes sir," he agrees, giving York the barest flicker of a look. "I understand. What do you want me to tell Control?"

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

Re: York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)

York gets Captured thread split (point of divergance)