hardwearing: by <user name="awkward"> (pic#11792900)
Washington ([personal profile] hardwearing) wrote2020-10-08 01:15 pm

Hadriel IC Inbox

[ voice, text, video, action ]
requiemshark: (005)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
[It's a simple answer. Not an easy one. Ephemera stares at Washington for a long moment, wondering if it's true.

Finally he nods.]


Nothing happens to my people.

[Nothing happens to Drake.]

You need backup looking after yours, I'll be there. All right?
requiemshark: (025)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
[No part of him wants to shake Washington's hand. No part of him wants to stand quietly and let this happen, but Ephemera promised and so he's trying. Counting his breathes on the exhale, holding steady, and thinking about what this place could be for him. What it will be if he takes Washington's offered hand as an opportunity to hurt him. Get the fucker off balance, knock him down, break him.

It might feel good, for a moment. But after?

It's the after that Ephemera wonders about.

He takes Washington's hand gingerly. Like they're civilized people after all. Like they haven't both tried to ruin each other.

He promised. So he'll try.]
requiemshark: (034)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
[Ephemera draws back warily, keeping his good eye on Washington.]

Almost four months.

[He almost asks what the fuck Washington is doing with Kyna, but he might tell the truth. Ephemera isn't sure he wants to hear that.]

The fuck are you staring at?
requiemshark: (031)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 01:01 am (UTC)(link)
[Ephemera twitches, putting his hands back on the counter. He's left scratches there from gripping too hard. He didn't feel it at all. The counter did.]

He wants a cigarette, suddenly. Really bad.]


That's what I fucking said.
requiemshark: (028)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
[Ephemera flinches before he can think to hide it. He expected this to hurt. He couldn't imagine it going otherwise.

He didn't expect that question.]


Get out.
requiemshark: (011)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
[Motherfucker.

It's not meant as a taunt, but Ephemera doesn't want to hear it. He's feeling twitchy, uneasy, waiting for an attack that hasn't come.

He grabs the nearest thing - a can of acrylic paint - and throws it hard at Washington's head.]
braveoff: <user name="wonjae">; commissioned (pic#11535703)

[personal profile] braveoff 2017-10-18 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ Sure enough, Drake is right in front of the door when Wash opens it -- in fact the knob was tugged right out of his hand. He blinks up at Wash, taller than him in the armor, and nudges past him to see where and in what state Ephemera's in. He steps in paint, leaves a boot print.

Everything else looks okay? He glances between the two soldiers, wary.

What's going on? ]
requiemshark: (006)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
[The paint is dark blue, the same shade as that one Sim trooper's armor. Splattered all over the door, onto the ground, Washington's boots tracking through all of it. What a fucking mess. Ephemera wonders if they're still alive, the Sim troopers. Felix hated them. Would have hurt them before he killed them, given half the chance. Locus almost, on occasion, seem to respect them.

Breathe. Just fucking breathe.

Ephemera jerks his helmet off, nearly dropping it. He wants a fucking cigarette. And now Drake is looking at him.]


I didn't hurt him.
braveoff: <user name="wonjae">; commissioned (3)

[personal profile] braveoff 2017-10-18 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
[ Drake just steps in and closes the door on Wash, looking at the mess. If they move fast they can clean this one up, at least? But he's more concerned with his friend, at the moment. ]

Yeah. It's just paint.

You guys talked for awhile, though...?

[ He wants to know how it went but doesn't know if it's his place to ask. Ephemera looks like he's going to crush his helmet and might not be up for any company at all right now, even his. ]
requiemshark: (004)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 01:56 am (UTC)(link)
Uh huh.

[They have an understanding now. A truce. Ephemera almost laughs. He feels insane, caught on sharp edges because of a fucking conversation, what the fuck is wrong with him. It's not supposed to be like this. They're supposed to fight, he and Washington, one of them is supposed to die.

He doesn't remember deciding to sit down. One moment he's leaning against the counter, glaring at his helmet - the paint is chipped - and then next he's on the floor.

Right. He's sitting down. That was a decision he made.]
braveoff: <user name="wonjae">; commissioned (18)

[personal profile] braveoff 2017-10-18 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ Well that's... not good.

Drake leans down and unlaces his boots, steps out of them so he doesn't track paint all over the kitchen floor, and goes to Ephemera. Sits beside him on the floor so he's not alone. Doesn't ask, doesn't push, just... is there, solid and quiet. Waiting.

Just tell him you're okay, man. ]
requiemshark: (010)

[personal profile] requiemshark 2017-10-18 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
[There were times in prison where he'd blank out. Lose a few minutes. Sometimes a whole day. Like a magic trick. Snap your fingers and its gone. Abracadabra. There was probably a reason. One of the other prisoners, a former corpsman, thought he was having microseizures. Ephemera told him to fuck off. It wasn't important, anyway.

Breathe, idiot.

He breathes. Watches the paint gathering on the floor. Comes back slowly. He's not sure how long it's been. A few minutes, probably.

Drake is there. Sitting next to him. Just waiting. Watching him.

Ephemera takes a breath. Lets it out slowly.]


Hey, Drake.

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evocation: (pic#11190541)

[personal profile] evocation 2017-10-18 03:05 am (UTC)(link)
[Kyna tenses when the door flies open, and before she can react to much of anything Drake and Ephemera disappear back into the apartment. Just pain. Okay. She doesn't look entirely comfortable, but she doesn't cast any spells. Instead, she steps forward, her hand going for one of Wash's automatically. She doesn't even think about it.]

What the hell was that?
evocation: (pic#11531431)

[personal profile] evocation 2017-10-18 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
Oh.

[She frowns towards the door.]

I don't like him.
evocation: (046)

[personal profile] evocation 2017-10-18 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
[She peers up at him, studying him, although it's impossible to read his expression behind the helmet.]

Reaching back how? Did he agree to chill out or something?

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