RP Open Post

[goddamngrenades]

Smut, Gen, Angst, Fluff, Anything, Everything.
PFL era, Post war, Pre Canon, AU, whichever
Brackets or Prose whatever you're comfortable with
Tag and go, baby!

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[tactical_alert]

'Fun' and 'Malcolm' never seen to go hand in hand unless getting your ass kicked is fun. (And hey, to each their own.) He helps York (apparently the name he prefers, rather than Taylor, or Mr. Murray) up off the mat. "What, the blind spot?" A shrug. "They'll be your left for you, should you find someone to drift with again."

[goddamngrenades]

Taylor's too intimate, Mr. Murray too clinical- York is a good medium. They were a little weird over at his dome, sure, the project being what it was but it worked for them. He's not sad to leave it behind, though. "How long till you think I can sign on for compatibility testing?"

He thinks he's got a handle on things but Malcolm is nothing if not brutally honest.

[tactical_alert]

"You can sign up whenever you feel ready." And that is the truth. "Whether they'll allow you to is another matter." Other shoe dropped. "What does the doctor think?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Really?" And he shouldn't want that so bad. To get back in the suit, to fight again. Part of it is- being able to feel her in the drift again. Feel both of them. The other part is just to get back to the frontline.

Or die like he was supposed to.

"...That I need more tests to establish whether or not I'm hallucinating or ghost drifting. Still."

[tactical_alert]

"I should think ghost drifting is the most likely scenario, but if more tests need done, then more tests need done."

[goddamngrenades]

"Nine months afterward?" It's- unheard of, usually. But they'd been- almost been- why hadn't he just-

He sucks in a breath and pulls himself up, scrubbing at the back of his neck. "I'll go through the runaround again. I just want a partner, you know? Probably won't have a jeager for us for awhile."

[tactical_alert]

"Do you really think it wise to be eager for a new partner? It's not unheard of, of course, just...unusual." Why put himself in that position all over again? If there even is anyone else out there for him.

[goddamngrenades]

"Have you ever been in the drift before?" It's like coming home. It was like the best parts of love and sex and driving a hundred miles an hour in a convertible- it was being- it was being. There's a reason that recreational attempts at it have popped up and been squashed hard by the military. "I wanna feel whole again. Right now there's just- this empty spot in my head where someone else is supposed to be."

[tactical_alert]

"But you think you can find someone. Here." Malcolm doesn't buy it, not really. But who is he to argue? He's never managed to fully drift with anyone before. "Again, that's not up to me or even you. Those in charge, they'll decide if you get to try or not."

[goddamngrenades]

"I don't know. I didn't expect to be compatible with Clair when I met her. Hell we didn't even do the usual test. We found out when we were dancing." Club Errera. Something he hasn't done since he lost them, something he's still not sure he can do. But it'd be- it'd be nice to try again. Maybe. New city, new music, new club. "Yeah. A month ago I wouldn't be anywhere near ready. So- thanks Mal. Really."

[tactical_alert]

"All I've done is attempt to help you get your fighting skills back up to speed and adjust to fighting with your blind spot." A dismissive wave of his hand as he downs half a water bottle with the other. "Any other trainer worth their salt should have done the same. You still won't get three on me, though."

[goddamngrenades]

"It's not about winning, Mal." He snorts, scrubbing his face with a towel. "It's about compatibility."

[tactical_alert]

"Fighting is about winning. Drifting is about compatibility." Apples, oranges, despite using sparring as a method to test the latter.

[goddamngrenades]

"You ever do anything but this?" The fact that he's thinking it- that's a bad sign. It's how it started with Clair and- no, nope, not doing it but the questions' out there now. "Like. Outside the dome."

[tactical_alert]

"Sure." There's more to this life of constant watch and war than just sitting around inside a dome of metal and ignoring the rest of the world. He's just one piece in a much greater machine, and it'll still function perfectly without him, even (especially?) when there's kaiju contact.

It's a depressing thought, that he could be so easily replaced.

[goddamngrenades]

"What's there to do? I've never really walked around the city." Hasn't ever really wanted to.

[tactical_alert]

A shrug. "Well, the city proper is--it's a city; there's plenty of things to do in a city. The locals are fine enough, hail us as the heroes that protect the city, generally. Places to eat, movies to see, museums to visit, so on."

[goddamngrenades]

"Any clubs? Been forever since I've been out dancing." And drinking but he's trying very hard not to slip up.

[tactical_alert]

"Plenty. I sit in a few from time to time. Are you asking me out, Mr. Murray?"

[goddamngrenades]

"As a wingman, sure." He grins. "I need the help."

[tactical_alert]

"And here I thought people went nutty for the scars. And your charm," he adds with a smirk and a slight wrinkle of his nose. "I suppose that can be arranged. It's been a long time since I've had a wingman along or been the wingman. And it's good to get out from under the dome."

[goddamngrenades]

"Yeah but I don't know anyone! Or where the good clubs are. And no one wants to be the poor charming scarred up dude all alone in the club. Having a buddy there makes it easier." He's half tempted to reach out and tap the tip of Mal's wrinkled nose. He represses it. "Put on some fuck me pants and we'll head out tonight?"

[tactical_alert]

"...Put on some what?" Now instead of a wrinkled nose it's the actual confusion or distaste in the creases of his brow. "Ah, well, whatever. I can point you to a place or two that's fine? Clubs are all right. Bars. Mildly sociable with alcohol. Although I don't suppose you want that?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Fuck me pants. Pants that make you look particularly fuckable." He blinks. "Do you not have that in England?"

[tactical_alert]

"I can't say I've come across the phrase," he sighs with a tint of irritation. "Nevermind that. Clubs, bars, alcohol?"