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 Posted: Wed May 28, 2014 10:20 pm
It had been a weird few weeks. Although he had been awakened for just over a month, there was still so much to learn about Deus that he didn't get the chance to learn yet. Almost immediately after being awakened, within his first week of still hazy memories that he was trying to piece together, a higher ranked officer in Mist called him out to another base in Nevada for some weapon training and practice, which ultimately led to him staying off-base in an abandoned old town.
It was a pretty fun month, shooting targets in a nearly deserted atmosphere, but anytime he had a question for the other officers he was only given simple and basic answers, and the further he tried to dig in his interrogation the more cryptic the answers would get.
Siv wasn't much help either, but at least she was keeping her mouth shut more often and being less of a pain in the a**, he acknowledged.
Siv wished she could say the same about the idiot that she was stuck with. Wyatt could feel her disappointment, but at this point he was pretty much used to it. They learned to work together enough for the target shooting exercises to become a strong success, and they had some mutual admiration for each other's talents in that regard.
As for his questions, eventually every answer became "You'll find out when you get back to the island." And finally, that time had come. He was back on the island.
His first stop was immediately back to his dorm room. Sure, it was a former torture chamber in a basement with some equipment still in there, but it was still a step up from the living situation in Nevada where he slept directly on the floor of an abandoned old store with no doors or windows. He did have a pillow but a raccoon peed on it in the first night, so that was a waste.
At this point, the torture chamber was the ******** Ritz-Carlton.
"I'm back, bitches!" he shouted in the hall as he was opening his door, dragging his shotgun and tiny bag of disgustingly dirty old clothes with him, as if he had actually had the time to get to know or remember anyone on his floor. He instantly flopped onto his bed, his door left open, as he moaned about how good his shitty mattress felt.
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2014 11:10 pm
The room across the hall was almost identical to Wyatt's, a mirror image, except for two things: 1. The rack was gone, removed, perhaps torn to pieces and tossed out into the yard. No longer was Ever's room a torture chamber. Other than being in the dank, in the dark, in the faint lingering stink of the basement. 2. At some point, someone had scrubbed the wall thoroughly enough that they'd lost some of their darkness, the reddish stains had been blasted away, the mold cleaned out of the corners. It sparkled like someone had gone over it with a toothbrush. And, of course, the door was cracked just a hair, to reveal a sliver of that clean wall, the too-bright glow of a lantern acquired from the quartermaster, and one dangling boot. The sound would be that got Ever up off of the bed and to his feet, padding slowly to the hall to peer out through his door. A contrast to the spick-and-span of the room behind him, he looked battered: worn shirt and worn pants and battered boots and his pale hair a tousled mess that fell forward into his face. He also looked tired, at this hour, droopy. Maybe he'd even been asleep. Mostly. "...back?" It was absent, peering through open doors to where Wyatt flopped on the bed. Ever crossed his arms, slowly.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 4:52 pm
Wyatt peeled his face off his mattress to see a boy standing in his doorway, with moppy white hair and crossed arms. He never had much time to really meet anyone on his floor, but he didn't recognize this particular face at all. "Howdy," he smiled from his bed, not quite wanting to get out of the comfortable spot to properly greet his guest. "Name's Wyatt." He sat upright in his bed and worked on taking off his boots as he continued on. "Yeah, back from trainin' out in Nevada. Only was here for not even a week before I was sent out, so haven't really met anyone. Are ya new?"
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 5:41 pm
"I don't know. How long until the new wears off?" Ever's eyes dipped, to Wyatt's boots, back up to his face, and then around the room -- lingering, in a bemused sort of way, on the calendar hung up against one wall. It made his posture shift, minutely. More open. More focused, considering. "A week? I guess I probably still count."
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 5:45 pm
"That's still new," Wyatt teased. "Not that I'm a long timer myself." He caught Ever's eyes glance at the calendar on his wall, and noticed a change in his posture. Was something wrong? Wyatt looked over at the calendar and realized it had been a month since he had last changed it, so tore down the page to the proper month. This month was a fireman showing off his 'hose.'
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 6:04 pm
"Wow." It was helplessly surprised, a hand going up into his hair as his attention settled back onto Wyatt's face. After exposure to twitter -- everyone on twitter -- and Taym, he still felt on uneven ground in this world. Ancient habits resurfacing. And, in this moment at least, breaking again. "I should have thought of that. Everyone here is either borderline married, god help us, or straight." A smile quirked across his mouth. "Or, it seems, extremely female. I don't know what to make of that." He tipped his head down instead of watching Wyatt's reaction, rooting in his pocket for his cigarettes, and paused with the pack open, in hand. He only had a few left, but -- "Do you smoke?"
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 6:54 pm
With the way Ever spoke about straight people, Wyatt was able to infer that Ever was not. And thank god, Wyatt was worried he was going to be trapped on an island of heterosexuals. Clearly Wyatt hadn't spent enough time meeting people. "Hell yeah, why? Do you got cigs?" he asked with a brow cocked. Like booze and sex, he hadn't had a cigarette since he before woke up and that was, well, 2013. Needless to say, he had some itching vices that needed to be scratched.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 7:06 pm
Ever pried one cigarette out to settle between his lips and then eased forward -- two steps into Wyatt's room -- to extend the pack, offer him pick of the cigarettes. One cigarette. More than that could start a fight, even if he did have something of an in now, at least. "I have a bottle of Stoli, too." Tucking the pack away, he dug out his lighter as well, a battered gas station purchase that was already half empty. It worked, at least, kindling the end of his cigarette, and then Ever hesitated, torn between lighting Wyatt's and -- Instead he tossed the lighter at him. "I was going to save it, I'm kind of wiped, but if you need a welcome home..."
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 5:20 pm
Wyatt crossed to take the cigarette and caught the lighter, eager to quickly light up. "Fuuuuuck," he moaned after his first drag. It had been too long since he satisfied any of his vices. "Thanks bud. I needed this." "So whaddya say your name was again?" he asked, unsure if he was given the name before. "s**t, how did you even get these cigs? And booze? Ain't it all contraband? Hell yeah, get that s**t in here and lets have a little party."
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 8:08 pm
"People go out on leave, and they can buy whatever they can afford." The words faded out as he eased back across the hall, to root under his bed for the battered messenger bag that held everything he owned -- including, right now, a bottle of Stoli. He checked it as he straightened, creeping his way back, and in Wyatt's doorway, he cracked it open. "If you do favors, they'll trade." A beat, then he shook his head, crossing to drop down onto the bed next to Wyatt, legs sprawled out in front of him. "I'm Ever. I'm right across the hall."
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 8:36 pm
"Favors, huh?" he cocked a brow. "Like..." He then pantomimed a blow job with his tongue pressing against his cheek.
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Posted: Tue Jun 03, 2014 9:22 pm
"...I cracked that joke, and I thought Thompson was going to break my nose for it." He smoothed a finger up the brim of his nose just thinking about it -- Thompson certainly wouldn't have been the first -- and tipped back the bottle to take a generous, wincing swig before passing it over to Wyatt. "No, like helping out. I don't know. People have projects. Or they'll trade, I guess."
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Posted: Wed Jun 04, 2014 8:15 pm
"I dunno, sounds like work, I'd rather just blow 'em," Wyatt teased with a wink as he took the bottle of vodka and took a long swig. And then another. Okay, fine, he was just chugging the damn thing for a good four drinks worth before passing it back. "Sorry. Miss it is all." He paused for a moment. "Thompson, huh? He helped me out when I got outta the pods. The methhead lookin' guy? Why'd he want to punch you?"
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Posted: Thu Jun 05, 2014 10:51 pm
There was a pause as Ever thought about that, bottle rested against his knee -- and then the smile came back, slowly, amused. He shook his head and lifted the bottle, speaking around the mouth. "I suggested I'd blow someone for favors." He drank, long and slow, if nowhere near as much as Wyatt. "Or something like that. I forget the details..."
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Posted: Thu Jun 05, 2014 11:30 pm
"Heh, so is Thompson some kind of f** hater or something?" Wyatt rolled his eyes. He didn't get to talk the guy that much, so didn't pick up on that. "Think that he's gonna catch the gay or something?" "s**t..." he groaned as he stretched himself out some more on his bed, getting a bit more comfortable. "So what were you doing before all of this?"
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