thisavrou_log | ( open ) there's a road that follows to a home

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( open ) there's a road that follows to a home

Who: Angela & you!
When: The month of February and onward
Where: Region 2 farmlands, at her cottage
What: A permanent downtime log for house shenanigans!
Warnings: None, but I will update if anything comes along!

[ Angela's work schedule is a fairly clear-cut thing on the best of days. Three days working in Kauto's hospital, three days up on Chioni, and then two days off. Around the time of planet discovery and the initial burst of travels, she hovers around the Ingress Complex to assist any who may return injured, and she's otherwise on call across all three if emergencies required her skills. To say she isn't home terribly often is a fair enough assessment, but she still had plenty of downtime every evening, considering the longer days.

There's a key in the base of the lantern beside her front door, but not everyone knows about it— not even a handful from her own world. Those who do, however, know they have a free pass to her home whether she's there or no. A spare bed to crawl into, a couch to wait on, access to her stash of medical supplies (but seriously just call her for help). A kitchen to rummage through, now often with fresh-baked bread and a steady offering of apples off her trees on hand, as well as any leftovers in the fridge.

Eiger still accompanies her to work as a resident therapy dog, but he could be found around the property when she works her shifts on Chioni, access out the back door through the flap when he no longer feels like awaiting her return at the front. The cottage itself is on a hill and the back extends out on a bridge as an elongated sunroom, stretching out over the creek running through her property. The back door itself leads one to a winding path down through the copse of trees preceding her quaint little orchard of apple and walnut trees, surrounding a gazebo set up with a fire pit and the basics for cooking in warmer weather, hammock piled high in furs leftover from the Midway Hub's game— if anyone chose to visit and didn't have access to her house, this would be the ideal place to camp. (Just make sure to message her so she knows you're there! She'll come around once she's home to let you in.)

If she's home and not in the house, one would undoubtedly find her in that hammock with her work, fire crackling at hand and her cup of coffee long-since cold, Eiger curled up behind her legs. It's not the largest of places, but it's home, and there's blankets on near every surface— even the chairs in the kitchen. The creek is a relaxing babble, the creak of the water wheel partially powering her home, and if she's home, there's always a fire going if it's cold out and coffee going. ]

( ooc: This will be a permanent post for house stuff! I'll be posting monthly headers and any prompts relating to events or going-ons within to link from my toplevels, but I am 100% open to casual plotting or visits; just hit me up at

clegane or on discord (gauche#5968) and we can work something out! ♥ )

february ● march ● april ● may ● june ● july ● august

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[ Angie's place isn't hard to find. McCree essentially looks for the coziest farm on the planet, and when he finds it, he knows he's got the right trail. It's only been a few days since his confrontation with Jack, and he's still aching from it, inside and out. His back's in particularly bad shape--getting thrown against the side of a house by someone with super strength is not good for the bones. He's rubbing an indeterminate spot on his side with his good hand while he knocks on her door with the other one; his metal fist makes a loud, clanging rap against the wood. ]

Angie? Doc, you in there?

[ He sounds a little plaintive. If she doesn't answer, he's just gonna sit right there and wait. ]

[ Angela is only free two days after a grueling six, and each day those lasted twelve to fourteen hours. Had she been working, he would've been waiting another three hours at the least for her to come home.

Thankfully, today, she is home. Eiger announces the reverberating knock with a soft sound under his breath, chair rolling back from her desk and descending the stairs on feather-light feet before trotting to the door, not even bothering to peek out and see who stood on her porch before batting over the bolt and leaning her weight back to open the door, curiosity immediately giving way to familiarity, and from there to fondness— only for a moment.

As seemed usual, his tone gives way to something deeper than a pleasant visit and she's opening her door further in silent invitation. ]

Right beside you. [ A little cheeky, that. ] Coming in?

[ Don't think she didn't notice the way you're rubbing at your side. The moment he steps over the threshold her hand will replace his, a gentle touch to the base of his spine to stroke up and close the door behind him. ]

[ Relief washes over him when she opens the door, but the tension doesn't entirely drain from his throbbing muscles. He's got one of her e-cigs clenched between his teeth, chewed half to shreds. He tumbles forward, wanting desperately to sit, but wanting also to shout and howl, to somehow release this tension he's been carrying ever since his confrontation with Jack.

He doesn't shrug off her hand, but his dark eyes are searching and careful as he looks at her, watching for her reaction to what he says next. ]

Jack's here. He's that 76 fella who's been runnin' around giving everybody hell for months.

[ Did she know? ]

[ Tension peels from him in layers, paper-thin and crunching beneath his feet like so many dead leaves as he steps into her home, yet not nearly enough to have made much of a difference. She doesn't miss the teeth marks denting the end of the electric cigarillo once he's this close nor the feel of his tension beneath sensitive fingertips, greeted by the dog sitting at the end of the entryway and tail wagging, ears high and alert as he watches this newcomer curiously.

Has he even met Jesse...? It's been some time since she's seen the other agent, after all, but it feels impossible not to have seen hide nor hair of him in months— in retrospect, the pup has nearly grown to his full size, tips of his ears clearing her hip. She'd have to think on it later, but there is none of the elation in the dog shown to her regulars, to Ahab or David or Frisk, even now to Jack who had been a fixture in her home for a week. Hell, he lived right next door, after all. If Jesse had come straight over, all he'd had to do was walk across the couple acres separating their homes on adjacent lots.

The look in his eyes leaves her wondering if she hadn't ought to have left the door open, even setting Eiger on edge with his intensity as she hears Eiger stand behind her, only one paw padding forward. No growl, no flatting of his ears, but also no swish of his tail in the air. He remembers faces and shows none of the scarcely-repressed glee he would have for anyone known to him, and she has to hold a hand back to insist he stay put. Her eyes never leave Jesse's, spine straightening out of reflex even before he speaks, reactive to the tension in her friend and the way he searches her.

Then he speaks, and any easy comfort she may have worn with his presence seems to fall from her shoulders. She shouldn't be surprised he'd worded his announcement in the form of a probing question, the way he watches her— he leaves her no choice but to answer without hope of explanation, ready to spark his anger. Instigating it, almost. The lack of shock to his reveal is plenty answer, yet she doesn't seem upset by the news, either. He gets a furrow of the brows, empathetic, and she feels the heat of his bruises forming through his shirt. ]

I'm aware, yes. He was badly injured a couple weeks back. Your back— are you all right, Jesse? Let Eiger sniff your hand and come inside, sit by the fire.

[ She tries to explain, with that, but he doesn't seem particularly keen on calm, right now. She braces for a storm as best she can, seeing him for the first time in a while with yet another hurt to tend to. This shouldn't be what their meetings are reduced to. ]

[ McCree's always liked dogs, and been generally good with them, besides. They're straightforward, loyal animals--they always let you know what they want and they never let you down. More than can be said of most people, himself included. He offers his hand to Eiger, and keeps it there til the dog gives him a sniff or a lick, such as he might like. But his stormy mood doesn't ease, especially not with Angie's admission.

He's too worn down to yell, or even to muster that much indignation. Having it out with Jack has already run McCree ragged. ]

Damn it, Angie.

[ But he's still disappointed. He covers his face with one hand, his fingers pushing up into his hair, against the brim of his Stetson. He groans. ]

How long? How long have I been makin' a damn fool of myself?

[ Ana knew, too, obviously. He's wondering now if it was just obvious to everybody but him. ]

[ The dog will indeed offer a tentative lick after a good long sniff, whether the hand offered to him is flesh or metal— then he's a fixture at Angela's side as she tries to usher Jesse inside, provided he doesn't want to just turn tail and leave with her admittance. A little further, out of the entryway and into the open space where they can breathe.

Angela wants to be able to wrap her arms around him, reach for him as she always has— but for once she doesn't know if she'd be welcome. Her hand remains gentle, low on his back, and it'd be so easy to move into his space. She could use it herself, an open ear to discuss everything with, yet she tucks it all back as her face tips up, as if she could will it back as easily as tears. She's never taken well to her friends' suffering. ]

I only knew at the hospital. After the discovery and exploration of Eosoros. He slipped up and spoke my name. [ Her voice softens just to say it aloud, pained, after she'd promised him not to tell anyone. Yet here it is, only a couple of weeks later. It didn't last long. Still fresh for her as well, certain her ribs still ache from how tightly he'd squeezed her. ] I've held my suspicions over little things for months, now, but... I suppose I thought I was simply being propitious. Then I convinced myself it couldn't possibly be.

It wasn't just you, Jesse.

[ Jack's been at her side all along, taking care of her and inflecting that little "doc" her way, leaning on her what few times he couldn't help but do so. Living just a couple doors down from her, and even here they ended up beside one another without her knowledge. His doing? Perhaps, perhaps not, but it's no less true. He was terrible at staying away from them, in the end. It made her wonder just how closely he'd followed them all those years.

Angela is just as exhausted with the ordeal, fingertips in slate fur on her other side and turning toward Jesse, hesitant for as much as she wants to reach for him. He's upset with her, perhaps rightfully so, but she had right to be upset with him, too. (Not that she'd ever expend the energy to be upset with someone short of grievous action.) Where had he been all this time? When she's needed her dear friend. ]

[ Well ... that's not so long. Not so long as he was imagining, to be sure. McCree sighs, a long deep exhale that shudders through his whole body. His shoulders go slack. He has that same feeling as he did with Jack, where he's young again, where he's on uncertain ground, agitated and miserable all at once. ]

Yeah, I had plenty of suspicions, too. I just kept tellin' myself that folks don't come back from the dead.

[ He shakes his head. ]

Reckon that's foolish, considering Reyes.

[ He'd been to both of their gravestones, after all.

A few moments pass. The tension's drained from his limbs, but he's not sure where to go from here. So he just mutters, a little contrite. ]

I punched him in the jaw.

[ It wasn't long at all. Scarcely even enough for her to process it, even given the luxury of time and proximity to observe him up close, to run her hands over familiar scars and a familiar jaw, erasing any shadow of a doubt. As if the look in his eyes hadn't been enough, hugging a stranger so tight her bones creaked, inhaling the faintest hint of her perfume and settling to her touch. Walking at his side as if the years hadn't come between them and it was another day on the field, discussing the recent physical results as he watches everyone's form in their training.

The answer sucks the wind out of Jesse's sails and he deflates, his own breath shaking him. She's never been good at reeling herself in when it meant she could be comforting others, so she finally reaches a tentative hand up to his nearest shoulder, offering should he decide to take of her. ]

All too often, lately, it seems they do. [ Ana as well, for that matter. ] Heroes never die, right?

[ Eiger's sent off with a soft flick of the fingers, the subtlest shooing motion that has him padding off to one of his beds strewn through the house and curling up by the fire to keep his eyes on Jesse. Tuned into emotions, that one.

The rueful little admission has her huffing her amusement, holding an open hand palm-up for his own. To check his knuckles, of course. ]

Is your hand all right?

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flashbanging - 2017-03-14 18:45 (UTC) - Expand

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flashbanging - 2017-03-19 20:00 (UTC) - Expand

[He keeps everyone's schedules close, because its the easiest thing to keep his time occupied. He knows when they leave, when they take lunch, when they return home, their routine errands and other things. Distance between planets has made things harder to track, but when you're an employed mercenary, avenues are open to you.

He's kept his distance from most of them, biding his time, waiting for a stockpile large enough to finish what he'd started with Jack Morrison. It was a slower process than he would have liked -- and then there was the matter of Amari's disappearance.

Probably for the best, but no less infuriating.

When Angela returns to her abode in the evening, she will find her porch already occupied by a too-familiar trenchcoat -- worn in places it hadn't been before, gouges and burn marks in his mask, scuffs in the armor on his arms and legs. Whatever he has been doing, its not easy work -- even for a wraith.

His arms stay folded in plain sight, to show he isn't holding a weapon. After all, he's been out of contact for a few months -- there was no reason to imagine his arrival wasn't suspicious. With Sombra doing her own work on her own time, he only has so many people he can talk to.

That, in itself, was a strange revelation -- the desire for some sort of familiar noise that wasn't necessarily hostile.]

I don't think your dog likes me.

[ Coming home to Gabriel on her porch should likely scare her right out of her skin, but beyond the faintest twitch at his first syllable, it remains a quiet tension in her body as she well and truly sees him, half-melded into the shadows. It's been some months, now, both giving the other a wide berth after their first and last altercation— if one could even call it that. She had done her best to see him off with no hard feelings, terrified she would lose whatever hair-fine tether remained between them, kept his trust in her, allowed her to continue chipping at him— but she was convinced she had imagined such a possibility.

It was no easy task to accept that her dearest wishes toward him were for naught. That she had been a fool to believe some exception existed based on mutual worth. Yet here he is, looking all the worse for wear and scratched, gouged, burned, damage to his armor and coat alike as he rasps from his seat, arms crossed and far from his holsters. Not that she believed he couldn't reach for them quicker than she could act. It's a knowing gesture and one offered as a token of faith.

Angela tips her head with her curiosity, gauging him, before finally she cracks— just a hint, the faintest curl of her lips. At least a little lightness attempted. Sure enough, Eiger is scarcely visible but vigilantly watching the man on the porch, the wet square of a black nose and the muted glint of gold eyes behind the sheers all she can really see. He'd very likely given a warning bark, or perhaps Gabriel would've been inside her house by now. (She's quietly thankful he hadn't done as much, dog or no.) ]

He hasn't met you yet, is all. It's been a while, Gabriel. Is everything all right?

[ And she's unlocking the door to open, the tip of her head inviting him in with her. She wastes no time with the unwinding ritual of shedding her outer layers, hanging up her bag, switching boots for slippers. All the while her dog awaits her at the end of the hall, alert. ]

You don't really want the answer to that question.

[He waits for her to finish her ritual before he rises to take her invitation, two heavy steps as he turns to enter. For a long moment, he stays quiet and stares down her dog in return.

He'd enjoyed dogs, once. There weren't too many animals around that liked what the collapse did to him. But whatever Eiger was or wasn't, he has no interest in finding out or testing.

There are more important things to talk about and consider.]

Big place. Just you?

[He already knows, but he can at least act like he isn't spying on her.]

Edited 2017-03-08 02:16 (UTC)

When have I ever not wanted an answer to that question? I'm quite certain I've been certified to ask.

[ Eiger takes a few slow steps forward, nearly stalking in his wariness, stopping at her side. Angela lays a hand at his shoulders to soothe him and she holds her other out to Gabriel, urging him to offer his knuckles for the dog to sniff. He's certainly off from what he's used to, but Eiger has also spent significant amounts of time amongst alien species and cybernetics, sniffed around the odd flora gathered from multiple planets. He can't be so strange. Once he's been acquainted, so to speak, the dog will find a good place to watch and lay down, otherwise unobtrusive unless given reason while she moves about settling, moving further in. Inviting Gabriel inside is an inevitability, but it wasn't as though she could stop him if she wanted to either way.

She is still wary of his actions and instability, but she hides it well enough behind a (not as enthusiastic as it may have once been) smile, a softened amiability that waves off what had happened before. It still hurt, to have been proven so wrong, but she's been nothing if not skilled at compartmentalizing her own problems. There were bigger things at stake. ]

Usually.

[ That should be enough of a nod to indicate it wasn't always the case. She often had company, and she certainly had her regulars. Jack had stayed with her for a week following the Eosoros mission, David has been by, Ahab, Shiro, Lena— she didn't seem to go more than a few days without impromptu company, and she wandered her property often on walks with Eiger. She was getting by. ]

Can I get you anything? Something hot to drink? I'll get the fireplace going.

[ She's already moving toward the kitchen, so whether he follows or not is up to him. ]

[Lazily, Reaper allows his wrist to fall into her hand in order to offer it to the dog, fingers curling into a fist subconsciously while the exchange occurs. Given his mostly relaxed posture, he seems to have forgotten the fact that he and Angela haven't been in close contact for some time as he shuts the door behind the pair of them.

Rather than actually answer her question about whether or not something is wrong, he turns his face up to the whole of the household to get a better scope of the inside. The casual pleasantries of entertaining a normal guest are mostly lost on him, but he grunts an acknowledgement as she wanders toward the kitchen, and he takes a turn for the living room instead.

When she joins him again, she might notice him inspecting her choice of decor. Eventually, when she is in range to offer whatever it is that she's managed to collect, he speaks with a slight tilt of his head.]

Are you planning on staying here when they find a way back?

[Seemed like everyone was getting comfortable -- not that it was any skin of his back.]

[ The ease of contact isn't lost on her and her hold on him is as gentle as always, Eiger stealing a lick to his gloved knuckles before he's wandering off— though not too far. She hums her approval, amusement curling one corner of her mouth, and leaves him to explore as he pleases while she goes to gather coffee despite his lack of reply.

It's only a minute or so after the low thrum of her espresso maker before she returns with two mugs in hand, offering him one before moving to sit at the fireplace hearth. She remembers how well he'd taken to warmth, at least, and watches him move about the place as Eiger pads back to curl at her ankles now that she's settled. ]

That depends, I suppose. There are those I've met here I would stay with until we can all go home, but I don't plan on staying here forever. Everything here? [ She motions with a vague gesture of her hand, "all of it". ] It's play money, you know? I'll have no use for what I've earned when we return. I may as well enjoy the concept of a stable home while it lasts. I've never settled in any one place for so long.

[ It's a little novel, not traveling the world with all your worldly goods in a couple of suitcases or shipping the excess back to a house you own but never see when it no longer fits in your luggage. ]

And what of you? Have you found a home?

[He takes the mug quietly, peering down at it in a manner that might have been suspicious, if he made facial expressions behind the mask. Slowly, he follows her into the next room near the fireplace, claws flexing over the mug idly.

Her reply is pragmatic, probably as much as he could expect from Angela Ziegler. Now would be the time where he would take a seat and get comfortable, if he cared to -- instead, he reaches up to remove his mask as idly as one might scratch an itch.

There was no real point in it anymore, other than for aesthetics. Everyone knew who was behind it. Its more of a habit, than a necessity. And after, he pulls the mug to his lips, staring sternly at the fire.]

If you want to call it that.

[The treehouse was hardly furnished -- it was a task for one day, to be sure. But for Gabriel's part, usually so laser focused in his objectives, was having trouble with the idea of settling down and simply...living.]

You're talking about the Snakes.

[He'd met them -- watched them, like everyone else. Jack had been keeping their company too.]

[ Without even seeing his face, she can see him staring down at the mug. It's to be expected, she supposes. They've not had the best track record with food and drink no matter where they've gone, but it's also... Angela. It's her home, it has been for a while now, and he should be able to trust that she would remain hospitable to him.

Even when given reason to report his activities or injuries caused, she hadn't. She'd given him shelter against all better judgment and had proceeded to let him maintain their space. But he follows her anyway, boots heavy on the hardwood until she's sitting before the fire, warm at her back, and he's beside her.

Not even a wasted moment of hesitation in removing his mask. He still looks so familiar; the same face she'd seen before but paler, eyes dark. He's still Gabriel, in some way.

But not in voice. Tone. That's far colder. ]

So long as you have a roof over your head and a place to get warm.

[ She still remembers how he'd taken to the heat packs she'd put on his back, all those months ago. God, they've been here an age. ]

The Snakes? [ It was hard to think of them together, for as much as they kept one another at arm's length. Harder still to imagine Gabriel's met them both, though she'd at least heard of his run-in with David. Ahab, however. She's learned his call-sign, Venom Snake, but she didn't equate it to him the way she did Snake— Solid Snake. It'd been his name for so long. They were codenames grouped for specialties and they looked so similar, beneath the scars and bulk and uniforms. Inordinately different in personality, though. ] They're not the first I would name, but yes. I would stay here with them both, as well. I was speaking more along the lines of the children here. The other agents.

[ And after a sip of her own coffee: ] You've met them, I take it?

( It's a chance that Ana takes on two fronts -- whether Angela is home, she remembered the younger woman's habits enough from the past to question her free time now, and whether she would want this particular visitor. They had had a pleasant conversation on Ana's message but she knew now after talking to Jack that things were complicated. Not knowing wasn't an excuse, not when Ana still agreed with what Jack had done, and she's ready to take her own consequences.

She gives a gentle knock on the door, adjusting the package that's in her hand slightly. One thing that being here before had given her was a few items -- other clothes, tea and, what had been a pleasant surprise, some coffee to take to Angela's. It was by no means fantastic, though Ana's idea of good coffee would probably hurt Angela's sensibilities, but it was an offering. The package also held a small parcel of tea, because of course Ana is bold enough to make the assumption that she's coming again. She may not know Angela's feelings on Jack's truth but she doesn't plan for them to stay negative )

[ It isn't untoward to question Angela's free time, that's true enough. She holds two jobs and moonlights at a third on-call, her dog accompanying her as a therapy pet to two of the three, if Chioni weren't too dangerous for him. Even if the facilities had climate control, she would take no chances.

Perhaps surprisingly, Ana's managed to find a time where Angela is home. What greets her knock is a soft and solitary bark, and shortly after the padding of feet along hardwood before she's working open the door.

Ah. The surprise is there for just a flash, then it softens into a smile. One that says yes, this is still a little awkward, isn't it? especially now that they both had a better grasp of what has happened. Not that Angela had much had the chance to speak with Ana beforehand, likely due in part to the older woman keeping her distance from the other agents to maintain Jack's secret at the time. That cat was out of the bag.

The package is more of a surprise, but she stands aside by way of greeting to invite Ana in even before she opens her mouth. ]

Hello, Ana. How are you?

[ The dog sits at the end of the hall patiently, alert, but his tail wags all the same. Even once Ana steps inside he won't move unless invited, so it's plenty safe. ]

( Ana waits for Angela's reaction, or even an invitation before moving herself. She never lets herself slip from bold into rude, and she is not about to make her friend (or her companion) upset.

When Angela moves Ana gives her a smile, and a small nod and she steps in. Her gaze drifts briefly to Angela's dog before back to the woman as she speaks )

Oh, I am well, as I hope you are. ( And truthfully so with her being more informed on their situation. Ana taps a finger on her package before offering it to Angela ) I don't yet know where to find something of better quality but I could not come without something.

Edited 2017-03-16 08:09 (UTC)

[ And having already heard the story of their years apart, she holds no ill will for Ana— she understands, after all, her need to remain distant. With Jack's identity at stake, having been placed under the same request at secrecy. She isn't upset nor will she deny her entry or be inappropriately rude for not telling her. Angela understands.

She, too, had made the decision to keep the secret.

When Ana glances at the large dog behind her, Angie offers a lopsided little smile and tips her head. ]

I'm glad to hear as much. And yes, I'm doing quite well. You haven't met this one yet, have you? His name is Eiger. I've had him for some months now; he's been training to be a therapy animal. Hier, Eiger. Sich setzen.

[ He'll await Ana's hand to sniff, but overall, he seems pleased with the company and for responding as he's meant to. Angela, meanwhile, takes the offered gift with a smile and an incline of her head. ]

I'm sure this will be lovely, thank you. Once you've been acquainted, can I make you some tea? I don't know how any of it tastes, but I picked up a few kinds at the market.

Perhaps it will still be pleasant.

( And if not the thoughtfulness of it, though Ana does not believe that she is the only friend of Angela's whom drinks tea, is still appreciated.

With her eye trailing back to the dog, watching his obedience towards Angela, Ana steps forward, offering her hand to him. It's been a long time since she's had such a companion around -- never her own, always a stray that had stayed around just long enough, but it brings a warm memory to her, and a half-smile for Eiger )

Where did you find him? I would not have thought a dog would have fared well in space.

( But what does she know she doesn't remember it )

Edited 2017-03-27 20:28 (UTC)

[ The statement (hope) is met with a soft hum as she leads the way into her home, watching Eiger out of her peripheral before he's deemed her fine and trots off after Angela, finding one of the (many) beds around the house to curl up in unless called for.

Though he seems to be aware they're speaking of him, ears still standing to attention and gold eyes bright as they mostly remain on the new arrival.

Angela's setting her gift down on the counter and fishing around for a few different teas— if she remembered right, Ana preferred black or chai teas and will offer the meager selection for the other woman to pick for herself, before continuing on. ]

One of my friends here had a discussion with me about ownership; he used to have quite a few and even mushed them in Alaska. He'd assured me there was plenty of time to mind a pet, and then a few months later, Eiger was in the mail drop. He was about the size of his head now, a little bouncing ball of silver fur. I didn't know the first thing about raising or training a dog, so Snake helped.

The spaceship had very secure rooms if anything got particularly dangerous, or I simply brought him to the infirmary with me. He's been a wonderful friend.

Snake?

( There's a slight recognition, and a hum in curiosity at the name. She recognised it from the conversation that he'd shared with her after she'd arrived. A good friend indeed.

Joining Angela at the counter her head dips, selecting one of chai teas )

He was trained well, and I imagine he enjoys the freedom. ( Dogs liked their exercise, and in the farmlands Eiger wasn't lacking for space ) The ship I have heard little about, though Jack tells me I wasn't there for long.

( The majority of her previous stay had been on the planet, and whilst that had satisfied her previous conversation Ana wasn't asking about details regarding herself now )

I'm not certain how to imagine it.

Mm, just Snake. You can't miss him if you've seen him— all the military ones stand out, don't you think? Short brown hair, bandana more often than not, light eyes and scruff. He has a husky you see him with often, as well.

[ Ana joins her at the counter and picks out a tea, and Angela has a look at the jar for the proper directions on brewing it. Back to the kettle, then, adjusting the temperature and turning it on to brew. ]

It's been less me and his own talents, I assure you. But I thank you regardless. Have you had much experience with dogs?

As for the Moira, though, you're correct. Perhaps a month or two if I recall; it was nothing terribly special. Everything we saw in science fiction movies, really. Largely sterile, uniform, unremarkable until we landed on some planet or another. One had a people who looked like preying mantises, over six feet tall. They wanted nothing more than to dress us up and feed us and see us happy— there were drugs in the food, though, that altered our perception of time. I still am not clear on why. Their entertainment I suppose. What felt like three weeks to us was in fact a full year. It's been... things to that effect, nearly every time. Time after time, victims without much agency left to wait out the effects of alien atmospheres.

I haven't much seen you until now. [ A beat, and then: ] After Jack.

[ Because his reveal really has opened a can of worms, hasn't it? But she's glad. It's there in her smile as she spoons some of the chai tea into a metal diffuser, clasping it shut to place in one of the mugs she fishes out. ]

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( open ) there's a road that follows to a home

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