|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Jun 02, 2013 8:33 am
Let him demand, take on that strident tone, try to bully Ever around; just now, he wasn't having it, and maybe it was a conscious decision. Instead he cracked open his beer, watching Zac go -- maybe, just maybe, a little bit stung by the insult behind those words -- and drank. Two long, heavy swallows. It meant he couldn't answer, for just a moment, and it also meant that Sawyer [no, Bornite] would just have to wait another minute. He licked his lips as he swallowed, sinking down onto the arm of the chair. "The uniform's attractive, I know, but I suggest you strip back to what you were wearing before, or we'll attract unwanted attention. It just takes a thought and a wish." He turned the can in his hand, looking down at it as he considered his explanation. "I'm used to being the good guy who picks up the pieces after, more than the recruiter, but sometimes you have to step up, I guess. You know people; you know what's going on in the city. I think you have at least some idea of what this is."
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 02, 2013 9:55 pm
He thought about it. Or rather, he made himself stop thinking about it, and that worked: he slumped in the confines of the silk blazer, and began working the bracelets off his arms, letting them fall to the floor with a clatter. The noise was a comfort. And now he felt tired--small, and puny, and hurt. "Every city has some lover's lane monster," he said finally, looking as tiny and scared as he truly was. "I don't know. Why would we be any different? You could have--have asked. Uniform! Jesus ******** Christ."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 04, 2013 9:19 am
It was an improvement, all the same. Ever offered him the beer again, wiggling it toward Sawyer as he leaned down, tempting him with the promise of oblivion. Or, at least, a little something to dull the pain. His eyebrows raised, his expression had opened up again, and Ever looked earnest again. Worried, a bit. "Asking's the same as doing. Once you know, you're in, and you have little choice. We all get offered the same options: join or die. Some of us just more literal than others."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 04, 2013 8:15 pm
Shedding his coat--down to nothing but a t-shirt that exposed how pathetically un-muscled his arms were and obnoxiously skinny jeans that did the same for his scrawny legs--Sawyer flung himself face-first on the futon with an overabundance of drama, disregarding the beer once more with a pointed stubbornness. "When do you start working on the Stockholm Syndrome? You going to Nightcrawler me off to a boot camp? Make me do push ups?" His exaggerated misery was muffled by his pillow. "I can't run a mile without vomiting. Ask Zed. He's been around the track with me. I thought I got all that crap out of my system after four years at Hillworth. I'm also not saluting you. And I hope your face hurts."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 05, 2013 6:56 pm
Let him talk; nothing new there. Ever sat and drank and let him talk himself out, wondering absently if this had been a wise recruitment. Well. It would pan out or it wouldn't; it helped, in its way, that he hadn't been close with Sawyer beforehand. That would have made it rougher.
Only once the words dwindled down did he swallow, peering across at the sprawled kid. His face did look swollen. He didn't complain, just now. "You have duties. You have something useful to do, beyond getting high and cuddling up to strange girls. You can put your particular brand of skill to use."
He polished off the beer, and then stacked it on top of the one Sawyer had ignored. "Not just can. You will. Sorry, this is the way it goes for people like us. We flit about until someone catches us. And we're better for it."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 06, 2013 12:55 pm
With his face buried in his pillow he was silent for a minute at this, his body tense and nervous, and when he looked up it was with a wary sort of skepticism. "My particular brand of skill?" he asked. There were far too many emotions loaded behind that--indignation and incredulity, and maybe a glimmer of hope. Sawyer was a small and chattery and apparently-not-that-smart thing, and perhaps he was accustomed to being labeled "useless." A powerful motivator, being needed.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 06, 2013 6:46 pm
Ever's reply was soft, an absent [but agreeing] hum as he looked Sawyer over, eyes narrowed. He hadn't drank enough to even get a buzz, and now he wanted a cigarette on top of it. Plus, Zac was waiting for him outside, perhaps, other comforts that tugged at his, er, heartstrings --
So. He stood again, shaking himself out and squinting around at the mess of Sawyer's apartment. "I'll come back in a couple days. Give you time to stop...to think about it in a calmer way. For the love of God don't tell anyone, though, or you'll end up with your mind wiped or something, and maybe the rest of us too, and no one wants that."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
