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you're back
[ stating the obvious but also yes, that takes precedence
then: ]
[Bad username or site: buff @ ridges] outside the network, but [Bad username or site: steve @ rogers] on it
[ stating the obvious but also yes, that takes precedence
then: ]
[Bad username or site: buff @ ridges] outside the network, but [Bad username or site: steve @ rogers] on it
Edited 2019-07-28 07:31 (UTC)
hey, so i wanted to thank you for that drink.
things have been pretty hectic recently, haven't they?
things have been pretty hectic recently, haven't they?
hey again
hectic's one word for it, yeah
how are you holding up? settled in all right?
hectic's one word for it, yeah
how are you holding up? settled in all right?
yeah. kind of.
new life.
new job.
same old safehouse.
that's getting a little weird to be honest.
i haven't done communal living since...
actually, i've never done communal living.
i thought new york rent was crazy but new amsterdam puts midtown to shame.
new life.
new job.
same old safehouse.
that's getting a little weird to be honest.
i haven't done communal living since...
actually, i've never done communal living.
i thought new york rent was crazy but new amsterdam puts midtown to shame.
Clarke and I went outside the wall during the EMP and encountered some animals that were
Wrong.
The same ones that have been coming in to the city recently.
I grabbed some samples of the dirt and water and flora out there and some of the animals that have come here but I don't know how to look for anything.
Wrong.
The same ones that have been coming in to the city recently.
I grabbed some samples of the dirt and water and flora out there and some of the animals that have come here but I don't know how to look for anything.
[ it still feels a little strange to have an actual place to go after he gets off work but here he is. he doesn't go to the safehouse or jyn's closet or the brothel. he goes to a room in an apartment with a bed and his meager belongings but it's still his and that's pretty nice.
tonight when he comes home, he's got beer balanced precariously on a box of pizza that's still hot through the cardboard. his bag is over his shoulder, bumping against his back and he drops the foodstuffs off before he dumps his bag on his bed and takes his shoes off. ]
Hey, I did that without dropping it. Maybe my luck's turning.
[ he'd probably jinxed himself by saying that but oh well. he was having a decent span of days. he drops down on the couch and slouches down, taking a second to be very lazy before bobbi joins him. ]
tonight when he comes home, he's got beer balanced precariously on a box of pizza that's still hot through the cardboard. his bag is over his shoulder, bumping against his back and he drops the foodstuffs off before he dumps his bag on his bed and takes his shoes off. ]
Hey, I did that without dropping it. Maybe my luck's turning.
[ he'd probably jinxed himself by saying that but oh well. he was having a decent span of days. he drops down on the couch and slouches down, taking a second to be very lazy before bobbi joins him. ]
[ bobbi - well, katelin, really - works long hours at the lab. part of it is knowing that if she puts in the extra hours, she'll be able to maintain her current position, if not rise higher, be trusted and gain access to more facilities - and possibly more gossip at the water cooler. part of it is that she uses the time after hours to run samples for the displaced, too, to figure out as much as she can.
tonight, she's made a point to leave on time. one of her colleagues had asked, "hot date?" and katelin had laughed and winked and said "maybe" and left it at that.
it's not a date. it's just - two adults who kissed under the mistletoe meeting up for pizza and beer and mutually assured cuddling. two adults who now share an apartment. so really, she's just watching a movie with her roommate, isn't she?
anyway.
she's in her room, exchanging workwear for something a little more comfortable when marcos comes in. it takes her only a moment before she's coming from her room, settling down on the couch next to him. ]
Good job. [ a quick grin. ] It smells amazing.
tonight, she's made a point to leave on time. one of her colleagues had asked, "hot date?" and katelin had laughed and winked and said "maybe" and left it at that.
it's not a date. it's just - two adults who kissed under the mistletoe meeting up for pizza and beer and mutually assured cuddling. two adults who now share an apartment. so really, she's just watching a movie with her roommate, isn't she?
anyway.
she's in her room, exchanging workwear for something a little more comfortable when marcos comes in. it takes her only a moment before she's coming from her room, settling down on the couch next to him. ]
Good job. [ a quick grin. ] It smells amazing.
That's because I didn't make it.
[ okay, he could pop a premade pizza into the oven and make sure it didn't burn itself into being inedible but it wasn't going to taste as good when someone else made it. he doesn't move from his slouched, stretched out position for the moment.
instead, he turns his head to better see her. ]
Good day at work?
[ okay, he could pop a premade pizza into the oven and make sure it didn't burn itself into being inedible but it wasn't going to taste as good when someone else made it. he doesn't move from his slouched, stretched out position for the moment.
instead, he turns his head to better see her. ]
Good day at work?
[ when he wants to be, marcos is very good at avoidance. he's been on his own enough to know when to slip out of places and where to go to not be found. he knows when he can be here and be alone and when he has to slip out to make sure he didn't have to talk to anyone.
it's not healthy and, in this instance, it's probably doing no one any favors but he doesn't know what else to do. so, he avoids.
it's late (or early?) when he slips back into the apartment. he'd taken a few extra shifts at work, dismissing anyone's concerns about working too much. he'd said he had to make up for missing work for awhile. it was a convenient enough excuse.
but, he's there now, standing in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter. there was a bottle of something alcoholic near his hand, opened, but he hasn't had too much of it just yet.
it's dark and marcos hasn't turned on the light. he's tired, weary, and decides to just grab the bottle and disappear into his room for a few hours of sleep. in a second. in a minute. when he can get himself moving. ]
it's not healthy and, in this instance, it's probably doing no one any favors but he doesn't know what else to do. so, he avoids.
it's late (or early?) when he slips back into the apartment. he'd taken a few extra shifts at work, dismissing anyone's concerns about working too much. he'd said he had to make up for missing work for awhile. it was a convenient enough excuse.
but, he's there now, standing in the kitchen, hands braced on the counter. there was a bottle of something alcoholic near his hand, opened, but he hasn't had too much of it just yet.
it's dark and marcos hasn't turned on the light. he's tired, weary, and decides to just grab the bottle and disappear into his room for a few hours of sleep. in a second. in a minute. when he can get himself moving. ]
[ she hasn't seen marcos since they were dragged forcibly from their fantasy of a happy home, a happier relationship. if asked, bobbi would still maintain that she prefers an imperfect reality to a perfect lie, but — it's hard, knowing that it wasn't real.
it felt real.
(is this how hunter felt, not knowing?)
she had feelings for marcos. they didn't develop naturally, but she still remembers the wealth and depth of what she'd felt for him, how overwhelmingly wonderful it had been to know and trust and love him.
he's been avoiding her. to be fair, she's been avoiding him, too, telling herself it's just until she figures out what it is she feels, how to best handle it. there's no guidebook for this; she never pretended to be in love with him. this wasn't some undercover op she was running. she could deal with that, but she doesn't know how to handle her own emotions now.
so she works longer hours.
unfortunately for their mutual avoidance, so does he — and it means that when she lets herself into the apartment particularly late one evening, he isn't out or in bed. he's in the kitchen, barely outlined by the light coming in through the window from one of the neon advertisements across the street. bobbi can just about make out that there's a bottle near his hand.
for a moment, she doesn't move. for a moment, she considers making an attempt to sneak into her room. she could get past him quietly enough, but there's no way he missed her opening the door and coming in.
(he'd let her pretend, she thinks.)
bobbi morse is a lot of things, but she's never considered herself a coward. so, quietly, not reaching for the light switch either, because some things are easier in the dark: ]
Hey.
[ they can't keep avoiding each other forever. they can't keep avoiding this forever. ]
it felt real.
(is this how hunter felt, not knowing?)
she had feelings for marcos. they didn't develop naturally, but she still remembers the wealth and depth of what she'd felt for him, how overwhelmingly wonderful it had been to know and trust and love him.
he's been avoiding her. to be fair, she's been avoiding him, too, telling herself it's just until she figures out what it is she feels, how to best handle it. there's no guidebook for this; she never pretended to be in love with him. this wasn't some undercover op she was running. she could deal with that, but she doesn't know how to handle her own emotions now.
so she works longer hours.
unfortunately for their mutual avoidance, so does he — and it means that when she lets herself into the apartment particularly late one evening, he isn't out or in bed. he's in the kitchen, barely outlined by the light coming in through the window from one of the neon advertisements across the street. bobbi can just about make out that there's a bottle near his hand.
for a moment, she doesn't move. for a moment, she considers making an attempt to sneak into her room. she could get past him quietly enough, but there's no way he missed her opening the door and coming in.
(he'd let her pretend, she thinks.)
bobbi morse is a lot of things, but she's never considered herself a coward. so, quietly, not reaching for the light switch either, because some things are easier in the dark: ]
Hey.
[ they can't keep avoiding each other forever. they can't keep avoiding this forever. ]
[ he'd wondered, when he'd heard the door open, if she'd just keep walking. would she stop by the kitchen and see him there and do anything or would she slip into her bedroom like they'd both been doing for the past little while, pretending that the other didn't live there?
he doesn't know which one he's hoping for. he doesn't know what to say. there's a lifetime's worth of memories shoved into his head and there are feelings that are still swirling in his chest and he doesn't know if they're real or if they're residual and he doesn't know what to say to her.
apologize? ignore it like it hadn't happened? but it had and they can't. so, when he hears her footfalls get closer and stop, he knows she's there but he doesn't turn. he waits an waits until she says something and then, he straightens and looks back over his shoulder.
it's dark but he can see here there, brightened by the lights from outside. she's been working late just like he is and tonight, those late nights have meant they're home at the same time and they're both awake. ]
Hey.
[ he turns a bit, resting a hip against the counter and staring out the window at the garish neon sign that's nearby. ]
You're back late.
[ home late? is that too...familiar? too much like they'd been a few days ago? he blows out a quiet breath.
he reaches for the bottle and then a glass, pouring some amber liquid out and taking a few sips. strong but not so strong that he winces. ]
he doesn't know which one he's hoping for. he doesn't know what to say. there's a lifetime's worth of memories shoved into his head and there are feelings that are still swirling in his chest and he doesn't know if they're real or if they're residual and he doesn't know what to say to her.
apologize? ignore it like it hadn't happened? but it had and they can't. so, when he hears her footfalls get closer and stop, he knows she's there but he doesn't turn. he waits an waits until she says something and then, he straightens and looks back over his shoulder.
it's dark but he can see here there, brightened by the lights from outside. she's been working late just like he is and tonight, those late nights have meant they're home at the same time and they're both awake. ]
Hey.
[ he turns a bit, resting a hip against the counter and staring out the window at the garish neon sign that's nearby. ]
You're back late.
[ home late? is that too...familiar? too much like they'd been a few days ago? he blows out a quiet breath.
he reaches for the bottle and then a glass, pouring some amber liquid out and taking a few sips. strong but not so strong that he winces. ]
[ admittedly, him checking in is unexpected. not unwelcome, but unexpected. ]
it seems that way
did you?
it seems that way
did you?
[ his rosary winds around his fingers but marcos can't remember taking it out. he must have, though, because where else would it have come from? that's what he does in times of stress: he prays. he's gotten a little out of the habit recently, jaded and dismayed by so many things unanswered but he still tries.
the apartment (should he be in this apartment? yes, his mind provides) is quiet, ambient lights spilling into the room. there's dust and dirt on the ground and the door is closed. he's alone just like he's been for so, so long. he's alone and that knowledge aches.
but, he has to keep going because there's always hope, there's always the possibility that it won't always be like that.
(even if, deep down, he thinks it will. his father hadn't wanted him. lorna hadn't wanted him. no one important wanted him so why wouldn't that continue?)
pushing to his feet, marcos wanders over to the window, half expecting to see sentinel services or maybe the purifiers right at their door. but, tonight, they're safe. tonight, there's garbage and dust blowing around but nothing else. he can hear the distant din of chatter from other people still awake in the underground but he doesn't join them.
he doesn't know why. he feels like he has to be here for some reason. he thinks he's alone but is he? maybe he's just too unfocused to really notice anyone else that might have slipped into the dream without his knowledge. ]
the apartment (should he be in this apartment? yes, his mind provides) is quiet, ambient lights spilling into the room. there's dust and dirt on the ground and the door is closed. he's alone just like he's been for so, so long. he's alone and that knowledge aches.
but, he has to keep going because there's always hope, there's always the possibility that it won't always be like that.
(even if, deep down, he thinks it will. his father hadn't wanted him. lorna hadn't wanted him. no one important wanted him so why wouldn't that continue?)
pushing to his feet, marcos wanders over to the window, half expecting to see sentinel services or maybe the purifiers right at their door. but, tonight, they're safe. tonight, there's garbage and dust blowing around but nothing else. he can hear the distant din of chatter from other people still awake in the underground but he doesn't join them.
he doesn't know why. he feels like he has to be here for some reason. he thinks he's alone but is he? maybe he's just too unfocused to really notice anyone else that might have slipped into the dream without his knowledge. ]
[ bobbi doesn't usually remember her own dreams, so she isn't quite able to tell whether there is anything out of the ordinary going on here when she finds herself in an apartment she doesn't find familiar, when she spots marcos by the window.
in the dream, it makes sense that she'd be here, even if she has no idea where here is. in the dream, her mind accepts it as entirely normal that she'd be where marcos is.
he hasn't noticed her yet. she steps a little closer, not doing anything to keep her footsteps quiet. ]
in the dream, it makes sense that she'd be here, even if she has no idea where here is. in the dream, her mind accepts it as entirely normal that she'd be where marcos is.
he hasn't noticed her yet. she steps a little closer, not doing anything to keep her footsteps quiet. ]
[ it was a dream.
it was a dream but when marcos had woken up, he'd felt gutted, raw and vulnerable. he hadn't come out of his room immediately, choosing instead to pretend like he was asleep, like he was exhausted and not up to conversation.
but that's falling back into habits of avoidance and he'd been trying to stop that since coming out of the fantasy that was zerzura. so, he finally pulls himself out of bed sometime around midday.
he expects she'll be at work so it gives him some time to clean himself up, shower, trim his beard, put on clean clothes, eat something, focus. it's not easy. he can feel the heavy weight of that dream on his shoulders but he's trying to put it aside, put it back in its box so he can keep going. ]
it was a dream but when marcos had woken up, he'd felt gutted, raw and vulnerable. he hadn't come out of his room immediately, choosing instead to pretend like he was asleep, like he was exhausted and not up to conversation.
but that's falling back into habits of avoidance and he'd been trying to stop that since coming out of the fantasy that was zerzura. so, he finally pulls himself out of bed sometime around midday.
he expects she'll be at work so it gives him some time to clean himself up, shower, trim his beard, put on clean clothes, eat something, focus. it's not easy. he can feel the heavy weight of that dream on his shoulders but he's trying to put it aside, put it back in its box so he can keep going. ]
[ bobbi doesn't usually remember her dreams — but she remembers this one, lorna taking dawn away from marcos, his break-down, the sense of loss he felt.
she remembers and she's been in new amsterdam long enough to know that sometimes, dreams aren't just dreams. sometimes, they have real life consequences. sometimes, they change the world. sometimes, they're shared between several people.
sometimes, they're memories. (that's a new one, but it isn't entirely surprising to her.)
marcos isn't awake yet by the time she has to go to work and she figures he deserves a lie in after last night. emotional exhaustion is real. she just hopes he's actually resting, that he isn't caught in another nightmare.
at work, she tries (and mostly manages) to put it aside, not to think about marcos. there's a lot to think about, between the memories of being married to him, of having a family with him, the way zerzura had taken the way she cared about a friend she'd kissed under the mistletoe once and turned it into something more, something deeper and more encompassing and altogether stronger.
when she comes home, she half expects marcos to avoid her again, but he's there in the living room when she comes in. bobbi sets her stuff aside, greeting him with a hey that's more casual than she feels.
she comes to sit next to him on the couch, not as close as she had in the dream. ]
That dream I had last night - [ she starts, watching him. ] That happened, didn't it? It wasn't just a dream.
she remembers and she's been in new amsterdam long enough to know that sometimes, dreams aren't just dreams. sometimes, they have real life consequences. sometimes, they change the world. sometimes, they're shared between several people.
sometimes, they're memories. (that's a new one, but it isn't entirely surprising to her.)
marcos isn't awake yet by the time she has to go to work and she figures he deserves a lie in after last night. emotional exhaustion is real. she just hopes he's actually resting, that he isn't caught in another nightmare.
at work, she tries (and mostly manages) to put it aside, not to think about marcos. there's a lot to think about, between the memories of being married to him, of having a family with him, the way zerzura had taken the way she cared about a friend she'd kissed under the mistletoe once and turned it into something more, something deeper and more encompassing and altogether stronger.
when she comes home, she half expects marcos to avoid her again, but he's there in the living room when she comes in. bobbi sets her stuff aside, greeting him with a hey that's more casual than she feels.
she comes to sit next to him on the couch, not as close as she had in the dream. ]
That dream I had last night - [ she starts, watching him. ] That happened, didn't it? It wasn't just a dream.
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