bothbarrels | Sanctum IC Contact

[There is a knock on North's door. Malcolm doesn't look particularly anxious, but there's a certain rigidity in his stance that gives away that he's not entirely comfortable. Doesn't know how to broach the subject, with North that he barely knows, or even with Carolina (although he has a few different things to bring up with her. eventually. honestly.), but might as well start with the Freelancer living in their home. Without York or Delta to overhear.]

[ She's still stiff, still sore but enduring Whiskey's scolding and some patching up meant the worst of brawling with Texas was a series of purpling bruises on her face and body, along with skinned knuckles and hints of a black eye - nicely faded, thank you modern technology, but only just.

Stopping by to make sure the AI were doing okay on New Years Eve had been promised well in advance. She's just quietly closed the front door behind her, exiting to the main street, when she stops to look up at flashes of light. Still a bit early for fireworks, but apparently someone plans on having a good time regardless.

She's not expecting to meet anyone heading this way however, as she turns out onto the main stretch of street. ]

Have a box of cupcakes, North. Beautifully packaged with a printed note "To North" attached and no sign of who left them. There are 12, each a different flavor and beautifully decorated. Each filled with beautiful pastry cream. Except for one small detail: All of the cupcakes have been made with salt instead of sugar. The pastry cream is cream cheese. Enjoy.

Can we talk? In person.

[Well. That conversation with Wrath was enlightening...and confusing both. Sure, he hasn't been blind, but this whole Lieutenant Englesen thing still catches him off guard. And baking pies for Wrath? She's somehow really...persuasive.

So when he comes home, Malcolm's eager to have a chat with him.]

[Time stamp on the text is right around reveille.]

good morning north! i know u must be v busy right now, but work hard! cant wait til im doing pt with everyone again! do some extra flutter kicks 4 me!!!!

Wrath's been having an excellent day; she's been drawing for people, learning more about the painting frame that Delta and North got her, and sending North the occasional text, not really paying attention to how much time has elapsed between send and answer. She's distracted entirely by just creating. It's fun, and she hasn't had fun like this in a long time.

She doesn't even really pay attention when someone darkens her door; it happens all the time, nurses and in and. And Nurse Chapel owes her pudding, if nothing else. But then the sound of soft footsteps, multiple sets, a particular sort of shoe scuffing, touches off something deep and terrifying that she doesn't remember, she simply knows.

The stylus drops from her lips; someone lifts the digital painting frame away and sets it surprisingly gently aside, a man in a black uniform. There are four of them in her room now, black uniforms. But not her kind of uniform. No patches, no piping. And they have no faces.

She feels like she can't breathe.

One says, voice electronically distorted, "Lieutenant Wrath, we have noted noncompliant behavior."

Can't breathe. "I have disobeyed orders," she hears herself say.

"What are you?"

"A soldier."

"Are you good at your job?"

"I'm good at my job."

"What is your first priority?"

She knows it, of course. In her bones she knows it. "The mission comes first."

One of the faceless men nods. She hates him. The emotion is sudden in its ferocity. She hates all of them, and she can't move. They're going to take her away, and punish her--not punish, fix, and doesn't she deserve it? She's been very noncompliant--and she'll forget, everything important, North and April and Delta, the smiling and laughter. Those things are all noncompliant, out of line with her ultimate mission and it's not fair. She doesn't want to forget; these things are hers. She'd rip their skins to shreds with only her fingernails.

"At ease, lieutenant."

She goes limp. It's like her body no longer listens to her. It's terrifying. And she feels exhausted, sleepy, ready to drift away. But she remembers her brief conversation with the woman on the network, the idea that what if the mission is wrong. This mission is wrong. The mission she had before was wrong. She focuses on that as the rest of the compliance officers approach, as they begin to uncouple the various machines, in preparation to take her in. She twists her hand--North said not to do that, well, he's not here and besides she'll just owe him another hug, that's fine--and then with a jerk of manic strength tears her arm free of the traction array.

She's still fast. With the new muscle enhancements growing, even faster and stronger despite ten days of complete inactivity. Her fingers latch onto the throat of the nearest officer, the one who took away her painting, they always take her paintings, she knows that somehow, and she feels her finger bones, still forming, crack with the strain. She finds the anger she so infrequently gives voice to and pushes aside the artificial lassitude.

Wrath snarls.

Edited (realized I forgot about the actual painting thing; details! (also Swype error)) 2014-11-13 16:09 (UTC)

This is Carolina. What's your status?

[Military formal-- But only one of you is in the militia.]

Hey North.

I don't know if you're asleep yet but if not (or especially if you are!) good night and sleep well and happy dreams!

I should probably tell you that Whiskey said there's something not right with my back BUT it's going to be okay. He just has to do some adjustments every hour for the next 12 hours and then it'll be okay and he might even let me out of traction once the last adjustment is done so I'll be out early! :)

I might be kind of a mess though. And he's going to want to keep me in the hospital for another couple days but I think I can handle it if I can finally move. (And maybe collect a hug even if I smell like hospital?)

Edited 2014-11-23 07:16 (UTC)

You alright? Apparently we lost two days.

North? Can you take your lunch off base and maybe early? I've got news and I think it'd be better to tell you in person. [Because she feels weird saying it over the network.]

Though I guess if not it's better to tell you sooner.

Hey North me and York are gonna hang out this afternoon and go gun shopping and then see a movie or something because he's going kind of stir crazy so that will be fun. But anyway want to hang out after work with York and have dinner? I think he misses you so it would be nice.

hey north do you like kittens no reason just asking

[It took her long enough to finally get to sleep, but once she did she was out like a light. She's still heavily sleeping when North comes in, sprawled on the cot and snoring softly.]

Edited 2015-01-14 01:08 (UTC)

After the last couple of days, and thinking back on the conversation she'd had with North when their relationship officially started, Wrath realizes that she really, really should talk to him about stuff. That's how these things are supposed to work, right? She hopes. She's still flying blind with the whole relationship thing, since her only model is one that she knows she can't manage to properly emulate.

She checks in with North to make sure he's free for the evening--and it's nice to be able to see him anyway, one on one!--and asks TJ to drop her off at North's house. It's not too far, thankfully.

She shows up wearing a little dress that Helen cut down for her, which she thinks is pretty cute--it's calico! Not quite her style, but it's fun to be wearing something different. And then she knocks on the door.

Be advised that 2nd Lt Foster has been dishonorably discharged from this organization and is no longer welcome on this base.

General Ravani

Hey North. I'm really sorry I didn't call you earlier. Wanted to see how you're doing.

hey north just wanted to see how you were doing ok <3

Day 123 - action

action; LATE NEW YEARS EVE

Day 142 afternoon action