Midpoint Pre-Game

[shadowsran]

(Continued/deviated from here.)

The silhouette, the tensed mass of A Person, Without Specificity, stills her at the doorway by itself. Easier to tense than venture back already, and clearly moving forward would be unwise. The glint off the barrel pointed her way justifies that line of thought; in fact, perhaps no broad movements at all quite yet.

His lantern isn't in her immediate view, but she doesn't need that highly identifiable object dangled in front of her to recognize the obvious when it's right in front of her. The impossible. Because everything-- because he'd--

"Soldat?" She manages, hardly louder than a sigh. It takes all the air she has left. She'll wait, counting her own heartbeats, eyes darting from menacing barrel to familiar, sorely welcome face under furrowed brows.

It can't be.

Comments

[shadowsran]

There is never any complaining to be done about a hug, is there? She knows better than to return it as wholly as she could. One hand at his back, and nothing beyond that but a marginal lean in.

"That's never going to be the case," she stresses gently, relieved any hypothetically watery eyes at the notion would go unseen. "But I appreciate that, and I feel the same. We're going to be okay. We're going to lean on each other, and this will be bearable."

Maybe they get out. Maybe they don't. Beacon didn't turn out to be inescapable.

[worthallthis]

They hold onto her for about ninety seconds before it's too much and they have to let go and scoot back, hard against the arm of the ratty little couch. Their expression is pained and apologetic all at once. "Sorry. That's. Let's. Do something. Laundry. You had laundry?" There's a pile of clothes by the door, which had thankfully drifted shut through their little emotion-fest so there's no one peering in from one of the other suites.

[shadowsran]

Already missing it, she at least falls just as easily back into the habit of being a good sport. It was something, and a very reassuring something. There's laundry to do, which she'd all but forgotten. Which shows. "Oh, right-! Right, yeah." Up she is, retrieving them like the afterthought they are. "Everything gets gritty by the time I make it back here, and they're impossible to wear new."

Never been anywhere she had to beat her clothes into submission before they were comfortable.

Hell, been a long while since she had to wear jeans so much.

"If there's some kind of trick to doing it well, I'm all ears." It's just been a round in the bathtub and a slinging over the drying rack. When she's feeling energetic, a prayer.

[worthallthis]

"Unless you spend points on it, it's the bathtub," Soldat says apologetically. "Or going out to the community tubs, edge of town, if you'd rather do it outside." They pick themselves up to help her collect her laundry, needing to move again.

They move slowly, though, rather than with their more familiar purposeful stride. Still pretty achy from Bad Jail.

"I've got some soap that better than regular soap, for clothes, though," they offer.

[shadowsran]

"I'll spot you whatever I use, next time I'm out." A comfortable acceptance, little by way of haggling. It speaks more than it perhaps should that she would accept it with no caveats at all were supply not limited and requiring fees. Her weight will be pulled. If there's any magical freedom-winning number, she won't keep him farther from it than she must.

But she does want her shirts to feel less starchy. Hostile.

To the tub she ventures, a lean armful dropped unceremoniously in.

"I don't mind this, much. The nice kind of mindless. I like upkeep."

[worthallthis]

"I don't mind it, either. I've got some to wash, too, we can do it together."

Just kneel side by side at the tub and scrub clothes. It sounds restful. Doing something with their hands, with someone they love, with nothing important or awful to think about. With Sarge close behind their eyes again. The Asset is probably still in there, too. They never thought they'd be happy to think of hearing the Asset's voice again.

They detour into their own room for the clothes they hadn't managed to get clean before the last mission, and then cart them into the bathroom.

And smile to see Misty already there, the first easy smile they've felt in... years. This day may have started out horrible, but it's looking up now, at least.