Open Musebox Post

[ersatzdivinity]

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[praeteriens]

"Walked." He glances at said dead men. They could take one of their vehicles, but it's likely being tracked so it wouldn't really be worth it. Might be fun to dump it somewhere interesting, though; he'll consider it once they're clear of any possible death via poisonous gases.

Other things his mind would seriously like him to consider now versus later: the idea that she may be pretending. The idea that he may be hallucinating, dreaming, or dying. The idea that she is going to kick him to the curb the moment he becomes a liability, which, fair really.

The idea that he is going to disappoint her wholly by not measuring up to what he can only partially remember.

"How did you get here?"

[tothefly]

"Bike's parked out back." More or less. A short hike, one they've both made before. She can see the hesitation in his face, uncertainty that's not exactly like it used to be, but enough so that she can't quite help the automatic response that still comes to mind. "I can give you a lift back to town. Or wherever." He could come with her. It's better, a time like this. They'd probably tripped some new security system that hadn't been in place the last time they were there. Hadn't known who was there. Next time, they'll be more prepared for their best weapons coming back to haunt them.

Stepping away and holstering her weapons, she checks the bodies quickly for any sort of personal belongings. Nothing. They're professional, at least.Finally, she stands again. "You coming or what? Maybe you'd rather stay with them?" A gesture towards the bodies on the floor as she looks at him, and the curiosity in her eyes is gone for the moment, replaced by practicality and the priority of living.

If he agrees, she'll lead the way out to her bike. There's only one helmet. She doesn't offer it to him, but then, he probably wouldn't accept it. It's about a twenty-minute ride back to town if you take the direct route, twice that if you cut cross country and confuse your trail enough to approach the city from the opposite side. They do the latter, of course, and at the very end of the ride she pulls up to a run-down apartment building, idling the bike at the corner. "This is me." For now, for the moment, for the hour. She's not sure yet. Things could change. "You want the bike? To get back to wherever you're staying." He has to have some place, right? Some plan. He always had a plan.