making my way downtown

[un_beau_coquin]

[The big issue here isn't getting fired. No, Spy will be fine for now, considering all that he's saved. Losing a resource as powerful as RED and Mann Co in general is a blow indeed, but Spy can get by. Right now, he's more concerned about living and making sure none of his loose ends catch up to him.

Most of the things he's taking back with him are either essential or expensive. The weapon magazines and catalogues sent by RED are still sitting in his old quarters, along with some leisure books and even some pieces of his old uniform. The suit has always been a part of his look, so he keeps some of it; they make for some decent padding for the wine stored in the trunk of his car.

With his tie slung around his neck and his jacket over his arm, Spy makes a mental checklist of all he needs. His life is pretty much stowed away in his wallet: bank cards, multiple IDs, cash, miniature cloaking device, plane tickets... He pats his pants pocket for the only thing that doesn't fit in his wallet: his passport. Not that he'll need it for the flight, but it's good to have these things just in case.

A tiny part of his brain nags at him, urging him to feel sentimental about leaving his workplace of over four years. But to hell with that - god knows this won't be the last he's seen of them.

When Scout hobbles up to his car, a mess of stupidity and arm casts, Spy is tempted to slam the door in his face and make him eat his dust trail. But, of course, the little mongrel has to pull the mother card and all of a sudden Spy feels responsible.]

I have a jet leaving in fifty minutes. You've got twenty. Get in the car.

Comments

[un_beau_coquin]

Pour l'amour de dieu. [Spy waves a plastic fork in his teammate's face.] I can't understand you when you've got food in your mouth.

[bonking]

[ His brow furrows and he shuffles food into one cheek rather than waiting to swallow everything. ]

I've heard you sah dat afore. Dat's whaddif meams?

[un_beau_coquin]

[Sigh.] "Pour l'amour de dieu" means "for t'e love of god".

Do any of t'e words t'at come out of your mout' matter if you're not even going to bot'er communicating t'em to me properly?

[bonking]

Now ain't dat a real hypocrinical queshon?

[ But he swallows what he has left, tearing open his roll. ]

I said I guess we're gonna have ta starve ourselves the day we bust out. Think we'll go through withdrawals?

[un_beau_coquin]

T'ere's a difference between me saying t'ings in french and you lacking communication skills. T'e french is for me, not for you, if t'at wasn't already obvious.

I 'adn't considered wit'drawal. It may be possible, seeing as we're so regularly drugged, but I'm no expert. [Now nicotine withdrawal, that's a whole different story.] We would 'ave to be quick about t'e escape, in t'at case. I imagine we would suffer from vomiting and shakiness.

[bonking]

[ Thumbing his nose at Spy and his french. La dee da. ]

Gross. Is there any way we could, I dunno, not do dat?

[ Scout didn't want to be vomiting any more than he wanted to spell the word itself. ]

[un_beau_coquin]

If we wanted to detox, we would 'ave to avoid eating for a while. I 'ave no idea 'ow long t'at would take. T'at means it comes down to not eating and running on low energy, or trying to fight off or sleep off the drugs.

[He finishes his meal and pushes the plate aside.]

I suppose we could always just wait until t'e latest serving of drugs wear off and see if we can time it wit' an escape attempt.

[bonking]

What, like a fire drill?

[ He pushes the white vegetable that vaguely resembles little trees over towards Spy. He tears off bits of bread to eat in the meantime, but at least he's not keeping his mouth stuffed any more. ]

[un_beau_coquin]

I meant in t'e final scheme of t'ings, but if you want to practice...

[Spy pauses, putting one of the white vegetables in his mouth. It's cauliflower. Really bland cauliflower.]

I'm not sure about doing t'at. Tipping off t'e guards to any of our plans is far from ideal.

[bonking]

You said they can't see in here.

[ Still, Scout doesn't even know what kind of thing you'd do in this case if not try to jog around and try to fight... He'd rather just have a nap. Shrug. ]

[un_beau_coquin]

[There is definitely some miscommunication here. Spy gestures vaguely with his hands, his arms spread as he speaks more slowly.]

What I meant, my dear, idiotic friend, is t'at t'e next time we make an attempt, we time it wit' t'e drug dose, starting t'e plan as late as possible after 'aving eaten.

Unless you wanted to test for wit'drawal symptoms. In t'at case, go a'ead.

[bonking]

I guess someone's gonna have to. How else we gonna get outta this cell if not makin' a break for it durin' the shower line? Cuz that's kind of a scheduled event dat don't involve our preferences.