alterplex: (33.)
ᴠ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ. ([personal profile] alterplex) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log 2016-08-17 05:30 am (UTC)

[ She's tired, he's tired, and the common denominator is that the only thing they're allowed to do is weather through it, like individual outposts all gathered together to form a makeshift island. It's nothing glamorous or fulfilling, nothing that can be ascribed to a higher purpose beyond surviving and getting back to their usual daily grind, but it's something.

He tips forward away from the wall, releasing his tied-up hair from its uncomfortable position where it'd been mashed against smooth chrome-white. One elbow settled on a knee, he reaches for a pocket with his flesh-and-blood hand...

...and looks vaguely perturbed when he remembers that he'll come up empty. Right, the ship confiscated his electronic cigar.

His jaw works in vague annoyance. She might recognize it as a quirk of a habitual smoker, the way his lips twitch and move at their corners as if he misses the weight of a cigar-shaped object between his teeth.
]

None of them will take it. Even if it's Doctor's Orders. [ Especially if it's prescribed patience. ] Better off saving your energy.

[ They're all stubborn soldiers, what can he say!! ] ...You've been working at the medbay since you arrived?

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