thisavrou_log | These words are knives, and often leave scars [closed]

South is- well. Distracted. She has her treats tucked in her hoodie, most of them open and ready to be munched on somewhat quietly. Except the bubble gum, she has full intentions of loudly smacking and popping that whenever the meeting gets dull or dumb.

That is, until North finally shows up. And while it takes her a minute to actually look up at him, still distracted with her snacks and Maine a bit, she notices the the mark right away. Her shoulder instantly stiffen. She hadn't seen his face the last day or so, nothing unusual about that really, but the big bruise blossoming over his face is. Different. And she's moving automatically, wanting to go to him and find out what the fuck happened, rage evident on her face.

"North, what the fuck? Who touched you?" She seethes, not even paying mind to the comical slaps of her flipflops as she crosses the room to him. "Who." It's a threat, a dangerous tone of her voice, not okay with what she's seeing on his face.

Immediately upon South's exclamation, North has his hands coming up in a "calm down" gesture. He knew she and Maine would have the biggest reactions, and he definitely doesn't miss the look from his larger friend. But he knows that out of everyone in this room, South is the one most likely to actually try to beat Wash up for this, so his decision for now is to deflect and explain later, in private, where their beloved rookie won't get his shit kicked in.

"It was nothing I couldn't handle, South." He doesn't want to lie about it, though; it doesn't sit right with Theta when he tries to. "I'm fine, trust me; it's not why we're here." What he's trying to say is that they can table it.

Tex has been watching all the goings-on in the room without much commentary or reaction, but now she rolls her eyes from where she sits, off to the side of the group. South has never impressed her much, whether or not she's come from a point in the timeline where she knows about the AIs.

"Believe it or not, he is an adult, South," she says.

Probably a lot more of an adult than South is, for all that they're the same age.

South makes a beeline for her brother, and Maine isn't surprised. He wants the same answer, and he wants it immediately.

What does surprise him is the slight shift from Wash. It's nothing he'd notice, if he wasn't so conscious of his best friend. If he wasn't coping with the idea that Wash could have died — the fear of it, though he doesn't recognize it as such — by becoming hyperaware of his presence. He doesn't look Wash's way, but it gives him pause. Starts him thinking.

Did Wash punch North? ... Did North hit back? Is that why Wash is wearing his helmet?

"Get the fuck off him."
"Figure out who your team is, Wash."
"My team sure isn't you."

No. That doesn't make any sense.

"Maine, we're here. Neither of us is gonna leave you, buddy."

The two of them fighting doesn't make any fucking sense.

Then Texas speaks up, and Maine growls at her. North's age isn't the point. The point is that someone hurt him.

Edited 2017-10-13 23:34 (UTC)

"The fuck I'll calm down!" Yes, she is yelling. And yes, her arm is flailing wildly with rage. Calm? Sorry, never met her.

"Oh yeah, you handled it just fine. Totally fine. Look like shit." She is definitively getting as up in his face as she can, concern written on her face as she shoves a hand up to try touching at his cheek, judge the damage.

It's not as easy without her armor on, but she's trying, whispering between them in Russian because, hello, this is serious. "Who do I have to decapitate..."

But then that Tex chick is talking, and South is flashing her the nastiest look she can, "No one fucking asked you, dickhole. Shut the hell up and stay out of it." It's the middle of a team meeting, sure, but it's twin issue- butt out.

She doesn't miss Maine's growl, it both riles her up more and grounds her.

Oh great, yelling. That was going to fix everything. Carolina shot Tex a sharp look and shook her head. "Tex, this isn't the time." The last thing they needed was to derail everything with side arguments and, well, freelancers were unfortunately good at picking fights.

"South, no one's saying that this isn't important." Because it was important. Seeing North injured wasn't Normal. He was a sniper, taking care of everything from a safe distance. That he ended up in close quarters made things troubling. "But this isn't the place, not when North's the one who called all of us here."

"Yes, I did call everyone here, and this is exactly why."

He puts a hand on South's shoulder, trying to calm her. "We'll talk later, alright? It's not important to the meeting." And it's not; his fight with Wash isn't what started the need for this meeting. It started a long time ago.

Right now, he just wants to get his sister to a point of listening. He knows she's upset and for good reason; he'd react similarly, if a little less forcefully, if someone put a bruise on her face. He knows it wouldn't matter in the long run--she'd have anyone dead who tried to hurt her--but it would be important to him, just like it is to her.

"This is fucking bullshit." She says simply, not looking away from him but yanking away from the hand on her shoulder. "It's. Fucking. Bullshit."

She wants to snap at Carolina, too, but with how little she's seen the other woman, and apparently how wrong she is to be mad- she just clamps her teeth together and gives her own growl. She has her hands in fists, but she doesn't add to his bruise like she kinda wants to. Or anything like that. But she does flip a chair over and kick it as she moves away from him.

And yes. It hurts her foot. Flipflops suck for kicking things. But fuck it. She's pissed and she's not going to be quiet about it, still muttering under her breath. She even goes as far as to slam her fist onto a table for one final defiant outburst before she gets to Maine, trying to just lean her back against him as she crosses her arms.

Fuck him and his face, she doesn't care anymore. Right now. For this second. She's going to flip her shit later, when there's less people to scold her for being mad. For now, she's going to just cross her arms and be angry and grumpy. And disruptive with her continued mumbling and grumbling. She looks at Maine and flips a hand in the air in a 'what the fuck' motion.

South makes her way towards him, furious, but Maine's eyes don't stray from North. Even when Carolina spoke, he didn't look away. He's frowning slightly — a muted expression, but still an expression. Still a sign of emotion, where there has been a complete absence.

Maine's not pleased with the delayed answer. He wants to know who the fuck put that bruise on North's face. But North says it's not important to the meeting. North thinks that the meeting takes priority.

... And Maine trusts him.

So, the giant Freelancer doesn't object. South leans against him — can't be comfortable, with the armor — and Maine wraps an arm around her waist. Pulls his eyes from North to look down at her; nods in agreement with her gesture.

It is bullshit. Maine doesn't plan on dropping it. He wants a goddamn answer. But, quietly, he rumbles, "Later."

It's not an attempt to soothe; it's a promise. As soon as this meeting is done, they'll get an answer.

Tex arches an eyebrow when Carolina corrects her, but judging from the way everyone is freaking out, it's better to just keep her thoughts to herself. She sighs and settles back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. North is capable of fighting his own battles, and he doesn't need everyone in the room fussing over him like he's a small child with multiple mothers wanting to dab up the blood and coo at him. If North got into some kind of altercation, anyway, it's already happened, so making a big deal out of it is pointless.

Besides, if it's at all related to what he needs to talk to everyone about, he's going to explain it anyway. Tex doesn't understand the point of freaking out. But she'll keep her thoughts to herself, since her opinion is so unwanted.

She doesn't study everyone else in the room to take in their expression; her eyes stay trained on North, waiting for everyone to calm down so the man can talk. The bruise is indeed an ugly sight. Tex might have planned to sidle up to him after the meeting was over and ask him about it, but that's not going to happen now. Obviously he's going to be mobbed afterwards by those members of the group who think showing their shock at his injury means they care more than the others.

North doesn't look disappointed in South's outburst. He expects it, and he's fine with it; she's rightfully upset, and he'd expect no less from his twin sister. Once she's settled back in with Maine, he looks to the team again, letting the fact that Maine's eyes never leave him until South is touching him fuel him forward.

This is what he has to do now.

"I feel like I should thank whoever gave me this, since it just outlined everything that's wrong with this team." He crosses his arms instead of putting them on his hips, his way of showing with his body language that he's serious about this.

"I'm not gonna sit here and try to claim that most of us are still adhering to the way things used to be--only two of us are even from a time where we were doing that in our own world." He may as well get the uncomfortable bit in the open right away. "A few of us have moved on, some of us have entire lives apart from fighting, and that's something we have to accept. I called us here because what happened to the Savrii, and how we were all involved... Pardon my language, but it was the same bullshit that got us where we ended up at home."

He knows South doesn't know about the deaths. He knows most of them don't know he knows. But he's encompassed that in his outlook all the same, and he knows those with the knowledge can do the same.

"We don't know how to act like a team. We never have. We could back each other up in a fight, sure, we were the best at that, but we've never been good at seeing eye to eye. Call me crazy, but I think some of that may have carried over through the Ingress with us." He doesn't sound impressed by that, but his tone isn't excusing himself.

"Maine and South took the Mother's gift without a second thought just to get at the Savrii holding us hostage. I took it despite a risk to Theta because I didn't want them going it alone. Our recklessness, along with everybody else's, got us in the boat we're in now. None of us conferred about it. We didn't talk things through. We just acted on first instinct, damn the consequences," he chastises, both himself and the rest of them. It's been eating at him constantly, and what they went through recently just solidified it all. He's lucky he talked to Shiro. He's lucky he talked to Wash.

"This has to stop. However it needs to, this has to stop. Wash doesn't see us as a team because by his time, we've completely failed him. He has every right to feel that way, because we haven't proved that we've learned a goddamn thing for all we've been through." He gestures to Washington, but doesn't look him in the visor, keeping his eyes on the rest of them because he doesn't want them all staring at Wash.

"Now, I know some of us have different views than we did before. We served our time trying to save humanity, and that's fine." He gives a pointed look to Carolina. He knows she has a relationship she's always been afraid of letting herself get into, he knows York values it above everything else in his life just like he always has, and he knows that after everything they've been through, the two of them deserve to have a chance to live. "I'm taking over, here." He says it with confidence, knowing that Maine has his back and that his sister will come, too. After everything he's pulled them through, in his life with South and the last two months of waist-deep filth wading with Maine, he knows he's earned this with them, and with his fight with Wash, he knows he's earned a shot at proving they can change. "And this time, nobody's gonna be stuck doing all the dirty work. Nobody's gonna be shoved off in a corner and forgotten about, and nobody's gonna get lied to from here on.

"Whatever comes up, we'll be honest about, as much as it's anybody's business to know," he adds with a nod to Tex. She's got her family to look out for, too, and he knows and respects that that's separate from the Freelancers.

"And most importantly," he turns to the rest of the room, making sure he levels each of them with his determinated gaze, "there won't be a goddamn leaderboard."

Because he knows how much it hurts to lose everybody, and he knows that lying and stealing and cheating only tears them apart in the end. He refuses to let that be their undoing again. He refuses to let bitterness seep any further than it has.

"I have plans. Things are in motion already, I've made some connections that are gonna get us started on this station, because we all know things are gonna get messy again. Nobody's obligated to be involved, but I'm gonna take volunteers for training people on the station. Physical training, knife work," a look to Wash, "and self-defense. That kind of thing. If we can figure out an ammo situation, we might be able to offer something with accuracy in short- and long-range firearms. We're also gonna build up a volunteer force for standing guard, especially in the room we got dropped in."

His arms finally drop to rest hands on his hips again, and his posture relaxes.

"So, there we have it. We've got our problems, and we've got a plan. Anybody who wants to be a part of this can stay. And there are no hard feelings if you want out, now or next week or next year. We're doing this because we want to this time. No more arguing, and no more trying to kill each other. We all care. Let's act like it."

Maine listens, and he is still and silent. He doesn't shift his weight in discomfort, when North begins talking about the future Maine knows he destroys. He doesn't grunt in protest, when North says that they don't act like a team. His expression only falters when North mentions that creature and her gift; the frown slips away, and with it any hint of emotion.

"This won't be the last time we screw up. We're human. Sentient. We make choices, we feel things. Isn't always easy, and ... we screw up."

... But it's nothing he doesn't know. Nothing he hasn't accepted.

North continues. He brings up Wash; Maine's eyes regain their focus. Then North announces that he's taking over, and Maine doesn't growl in anger or snarl in defiance. He doesn't look at Carolina. He doesn't even blink.

"Maine, we failed you. We didn't ... notice anything was wrong."
"We're in this together here, and we're prepared this time. We're not falling apart, and we're not letting you slip through the cracks."
"You aren't dealing with it alone. Breathe, big guy. Breathe."

He simply listens.

He listens, as North lays out his plans. He listens, and his expression begins to shift. Bit by bit, blankness gives way to curiosity. Interest. And, finally, calm.

"We're soldiers. We've seen worse, and we'll get another chance to make it right."

When North finishes speaking, Maine asks no questions. Voices no concerns. He locks eyes with North, and he nods.

He's in.

She listens. The armor isn't the most comfortable on her back but it does help keep her grounded and centered, keep her from walking out in irritation over North's bruise. Maine's hand on her waist helps that, too. She hates to admit it, a little, but she's already pretty well calmed back down from the little touch.

As North continues, she makes faces now and then, because as far as she's concerned they were a team- are a team. They fought a bit, sure. And bickered like children. But they had each other's backs. They goofed around, they patched each other up, had arguments. But they were a team already.

His comments only make her squint in confusion a bit, and frustration, especially the trying to kill each other part. And sure, she knows he's right about the Mother situation. They should've gotten together like this and made some kind of plan. Shit happens. She did her bit of feeling guilty and regretting it. Maybe she's just used to fucking shit up- but it's over, they felt bad, move on.

Regardless, South's in. It's not even a question. They're Freelancers, even if they're away from home, they're supposed to help people, save the universe as they know it, save humankind. It might be messy, but it's their job, and they might've made a huge mistake- but they're past it.

She just has one question.

"So you called us here to remind us we're a team? What's next, water's wet?" Tell her something she doesn't know- "Can we talk about your face now or...?"

As far as she's concerned, they might be a little distracted with their own things lately, but they're a team. Why keep talking about it? Good, there's a plan to keep them at least a little focused. Keep their hands busy. And North's taking over, she does wonder if it's temporary or not, what's wrong with Carolina's leadership? But those are still questions at the back of her mind, the forefront is focused on his face. What she feels is the more pressing matter, not information they know already.

South's attitude is the same one that Maine would have, if he hadn't been bombarded with news of Project Freelancer's destruction since day one. If he hadn't watched York try to take charge; dealt with Texas trying to give him orders; received only two commands — "stand down" and "take a walk" — from Carolina over the course of two months of shit. If he hadn't looked for his team and found a complete mess in its place.

It's the same unshakable faith that Maine had, before he found out that he becomes a fucking monster and kills his friends.

It's the same belief in what should be that prompted him to literally grab onto South and refuse to let go the moment that she arrived.

So, that's what he does, now. He wraps his other arm around South's waist, ducks down, and kisses her on top of her head.

Give the others a minute, South. Like Maine said before, they'll get the answer about North's face later. Let the rest of the team — the ones who don't immediately know that they're in — do all the talking crap that Maine's never been into.

In the meantime, Maine's going to hold South in what cannot possibly be a very comfortable hug while he waits to hear what the others decide.

(Waits to hear what Wash decides.)

Edited 2017-10-15 03:43 (UTC)

Tex is left considering what she intends to do after North is finished, but she turns after South speaks, looking at the woman, and raises her eyebrow. She delivers this quizzical look now at North. Her question should be pretty clear—I guess you haven't told her about what happens to the Project yet, huh?—shakes her head very, very slightly, and then settles back to wait until anyone else chooses to speak. She has her thoughts on this, and she has her questions, but she's not going to be the one to kick off the discussion.

North meets Tex's gaze with both eyebrows raised and a shallow shrug. You'd think, but this is just her, is his silent response. He's grateful for Maine's intervention, though, and the apprehension has yet to take him over.

He already knew that Maine and South were guaranteed to take this meeting well for what it's for. It's everyone else that he's concerned about.

York bristles, just a little, during North's talk. He hadn't taken the gift, he hadn't been part of the breakout, he had thought ahead and wanted to find a peaceful resolution, because he was happy on Thisavrou. But like North said, no one conferred. They were all on different pages and the people he had spoken to, it hadn't gone well. He doesn't feel like anyone would have listened to him anyway -- nobody ever did. Everyone had completely ignored him trying to organize them during the simulation. Maine had no respect for him, Wash hated him, he knew South wouldn't defer... but they might all listen to North.

He doesn't feel like he belongs with the group, anymore. He doesn't really feel like it is a group. North was right. They'd never been a team. Hell, they'd hardly gotten along and now half of them didn't. He doesn't trust half the people in the room, at this point. But against all logic, and the bitterness and hurt, he still wishes they were. Wants them to stick together. Still cares about them all.

North is the best choice to lead them. And it's a solid game plan.

Scrubbing at his face, he finally pushes off the wall he's been leaning against and speaks up. "I'm in. However we feel about each other, we can work through that while helping out here."

Edited 2017-10-17 02:42 (UTC)

"As long as you're not asking me to keep anything secret from Ryuuzaki," Tex says, because she's not entirely sure what North meant earlier with his nod to her, "I'm in, too."

She could say more—a lot more—in the vein of what York said, but that's not really her style. She'll bring her concerns up to North in private.

It's telling that when North declares he's taking over the team Carolina's only thought is 'Thank god.' Whatever part of her used to be good at leading anything has atrophied from years of disuse, from the bitterness that drove her when she was hunting down the Director. She doesn't even look that surprised by it.

"I'm in, too. Whatever happens, you'll have my support." Because even if she doesn't have faith in her ability to be the Leader anymore she still cares about them. They were her family once, and could be again. Glancing at York she knows that she can't walk away from them again, not when she has a second chance.

Wash listens to proceedings in silence, keeps his head down and doesn't look at anyone else for more than a second, although he bristles when South and Maine end up curled together on the couch. When did that happen? He doesn't care what point in time South is from. He doesn't trust her. She's a snake who'll turn on them at the first opportunity.

North declaring himself leader makes his lips twist into an unhappy expression, especially as the rest of them throw their hats into the ring. He wishes he hadn't come. He isn't sure why he'd bothered. Nostalgia perhaps.

Because it isn't going to work. They've never been a team, a real team, and that isn't going to change now.

So of course they're left with everyone agreeing to it. Everyone throwing themselves into this stupid idea like they've learned nothing from what happened last time. In the end, it's just him after all. What a surprise.

They're waiting for him, he's sure of it. Want him to give an answer and expecting him just to fall into line. But he's not doing that again. Not anymore. And it's hard because... because maybe part of him wants to, wants to see what comes out of this but they've done this before and he knows where it gets them.

"Have fun with that," he says finally, and then stands up, intending to head to his room. "I'm not doing this again."

Edited 2017-10-17 19:11 (UTC)

North shakes his head at Tex, smiling gently. "Not at all, I expect you to make your decisions with him. And I expect everyone else to respect your decisions." He has concerns, largely about York's tone and Carolina's... willingness to hand over the reins. He knows there has to be a reason why.

And then Wash speaks up, and that's everything North expected out of him. He turns his gaze to him, and his expression isn't so warm anymore. He's calm and even when he speaks; soothing, even.

"No one's going to make you stay, Wash. You know I don't expect you to do anything you can't. I want this 'team' we have to be about bettering ourselves and the people we're stuck with, not honing our ability to kill. You can come and go as you please."

But he isn't going to say more than that. He glances to Maine next, because he knows he'll take issue with Wash's response. But he means it; they're doing this for them.

North is right; Maine does take issue with it.

He looks over at Wash as his friend speaks, and he doesn't look away. On the contrary, when Wash rises, Maine drops a hand from South's waist and shifts to face him fully. He can't see Wash's expression. Doesn't need to. Wash can see his just fine.

For the first time since he called Wash an asshole in prison, and Wash snapped that anything else would get him killed, Maine looks like he wants a fucking answer. And if he has to pursue Wash to get it, that's fine with him.

He's not letting his best friend walk out like this. He can't. If Wash leaves, Maine's following. Period.

"Everything's fucked up right now. But I'm not going anywhere. We're still here."

He won't leave him alone.

Maine doesn't ask, 'Why?' He knows what he does, in the future Wash comes from. What information he couldn't get from Wash and North, he got from Church. He knows they call him the Meta. He knows they blame his actions on Sigma. He knows that's complete horseshit. He knows who he kills. And it's not fucking happening. Not here.

He growls and shakes his head. To the others, it might read as hostility. To Wash, it's "not 'again'" and "different" rolled into one — and any hostility is firmly directed at himself.

Because it doesn't matter what kind of monster he becomes in that shithole they call a future. It's not happening again. He won't let it.

There are a hundred angry words that he wants to say. He could fling them out, twist them like knives until all that's left is blood and rubble and the shattered pieces of people who used to be a team. He could make things even worse, and part of him wants to. A nasty, angry, bitter part of him wants to tear them apart, let them know exactly what happens and let them live with it.

But he doesn't. He's not thinking too closely about why, but he swallows the words down and gives a short nod when North speaks.

That's all that needs to be said isn't it? They can do what they want and he'll get on with his life.

Except Maine has to speak. Wash pauses and then shakes his head. "It's not about that. You need a team. I'm not gonna take that away from you."

And Wash is better off on his own.

That makes no fucking sense, and Maine makes no effort to hide it. He doesn't need a team; he needs his team. And, in spite of everything that's different and fucked up and wrong about this place, one thing has been clear from the start:

Maine turns to face Wash head-on. Sets his jaw. Jerks his chin in Wash's direction: you.

Throughout all the shit that's happened here, Wash has had his back. Wash has been at his side. Wash trained a goddamn rifle on North, then stood with him against the others when that fucking Savrii revealed itself in the simulation. Wash has made it clear that, in spite of the monster Maine knows he becomes (and whatever it is that he does to Wash, because he knows he hurts him, he just doesn't know how), they're still friends.

North is Maine's leader, now. He's been leading since they showed up together, starting with that 'Bismarck' and 'Augusta' crap. This meeting made it official. But Wash is Maine's best friend. Wash is the goddamn heart of Maine's team.

So, Maine's not accepting that answer. It's bullshit, and he's not accepting it.

He squares his shoulders. They can either do this here, or Maine will follow Wash wherever he goes. Either way, he's determined to get an answer. It's not a big space station, and Maine's got nothing but time.

Edited 2017-10-20 08:45 (UTC)

Wash regards him, head slightly tilted to the side, watching him. They've always been good at communicating without words and now is no different. He sort of wishes it was. he doesn't want to have this conversation.

There's nothing left to say anyway.

"I don't do teams," he says flatly. "Not changing that now."

These words are knives, and often leave scars [closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)