Midpoint Pre-Game
May. 4th, 2020 01:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shadowsran posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rainwashed(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.
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.
no subject
Date: 2020-05-14 06:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-05-14 07:28 pm (UTC)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.
no subject
Date: 2020-05-15 06:40 am (UTC)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.
no subject
Date: 2020-05-15 06:50 am (UTC)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."
no subject
Date: 2020-05-16 07:32 am (UTC)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.