elysium | on being woken up again.

[hew]

[ Dryly: ] What, so you're sure it's for good, this time?

Never did like being led on. Or waiting around for nothing to happen. Send me somewhere, find something good to do. Last couple of months have been fuckin' boring.

Comments

[misbehaved]

You're preaching to the converted there, friend. It's like everyone in these parts has forgotten how to throw a real party.

[accurizes]

Boring wouldn't be a word I'd use.

[hew]

They're all soft. [ Which he says, without the slightest hint of sarcasm or irony. ] Too much talk, not enough action, yeah?

[hew]

[ And, oh, don't you look familiar. ]

Yeah? What'd you say, then?

[accurizes]

Uneventful. Without incident.

[ Restless, but it's not off-world; a girl can appreciate things. ]

[hew]

What, like a fuckin' vacation?

[ The swearing seems more ingrained than it is any indication of displeasure or disbelief; at any rate, he seems more interested in trying to parse out who she is than anything else. ]

A little R&R, a little downtime? A little of that's always good, but it gets boring after a while, don't you think?

[misbehaved]

[ Skinner smiles, with tooth. ]

They can chatter on as long as they want to, provided they don't expect me to sit patiently on my ass while they're at it.

[accurizes]

Hey, you want someone to comfort your damn feelings, go find a hooker.

[ She can trade a man word for word, bullet for bullet, because you don't get into Black Ops without tangling with the worst of the lot. Cursing is the farthest thing from bothersome, for Isabelle.

(With a name like Isabelle, it would be.) ]

Quiet can be good.

[hew]

Sitting around patiently's most of what they seem to expect, [ Kruger notes, with an uneasy roll of his shoulder, before raising both of his hands in order to properly articulate his next few statements. ]

Get stored away on the shelf for safekeeping until they feel like having a little fun. Might be fine for those other lads, but it's a drag, otherwise, y' know? Watching all of that introspection and shit.

[hew]

[ That gets a bark of laughter. (So, no, she's not Max's girl. That's obvious enough.) As much as he might talk of settling down, of making a different kind of life for himself, there's only a certain degree to which that's all feasible.

And God (or, really, the Devil) only knows how much easier it'd be if the person along for the ride had a good sense of it, too. ]

Sometimes, [ Kruger concedes, shifting his weight from foot to foot, the gear that he wears shifting with him. ] But all quiet an' no noise makes Jack a dull boy. See— how long y' been cooped up?

[accurizes]

Long enough.

[ She hefts her own gear, a rifle that shouldn't look so easily carried by a woman her size. Perhaps that was part of the reason she chose it, outside of its impeccable range. This man, he's nothing like Royce, and yet she can't help but be reminded.

An assessing distrust was always present among those who pick up the proverbial gun and knife. This should be no different. ]

Last couple of months too hard for Jack to handle?

[hew]

Don't kid yourself, love, [ comes the answer, though it's not said with any particular affection. (He's not hostile, either, but a challenge is a challenge, and you don't back down from that kind of thing.) ]

No use in a soldier who isn't taking part in the fight, yeah?

[accurizes]

Not all fights meant to be fought by hand, stranger.

[ All soldiers are meant to die. It's the how and where and why that often differ. ]

You got a story for that...? [ She points to her left forehead, where his strange protrusion should be. ]

[misbehaved]

[ Skinner makes a noise, somewhere between a bark of laughter and a derisive, dismissive snort. ]

Phaugh. Fuck all of 'em, I say. I'd introduce you to the last guy who tried to put me on a shelf [ -- or a box at the bottom of a lake, as the case may be -- ], but there aren't enough bits of him left.

[hew]

[ Kruger responds with a harsh sort of laugh, raising a hand to jab a finger in Skinner's direction. ]

I like you, [ he declares, his approval manifesting in an expression that is more a leer than anything else. ] How's it going with the management now, then, eh?

[hew]

Augmentations, [ comes the answer, as Kruger brushes back his hair in order to better display the metallic implants that decorate his features. ]

Makes it easier to get gear on. [ Then, curiously: ] What kinda toy box you working with?

[accurizes]

Blaser R93 sniper rifle, [ she says as she hefts the one slung across her, then pats her sidearm, ] Heckler & Koch HK45.

Nothing as fancy as yours, I'm guessing. Where'd you get them?

[hew]

It's all Armadyne Company. [ He mimics her gesture, though in his case, it's patting the rig that's attached to his chest. ] From the rich bitches up on Elysium.

[ Beat. ]

Well, that, and shit I've scavenged. Can't be relying on someone else to get you your arms, eh?