RED Spy (
un_beau_coquin) wrote in
tosbox2014-11-20 01:17 pm
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Entry tags:
making my way downtown
[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.
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.
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The man is far from heavy, however, so Spy is confident in his ability to lift him. He moves to scoop him up bridal style, sweeping an arm under Scout's knees while keeping another steady on his back.]
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Yo!
[ But there's not a whole lot to do, so he tries to treat it like Spy is his manservant and look more smug instead of churlish. ]
How we gonna talk widdis bozo around?
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[He lays Scout onto his bed gently.]
It would smell eventually, but 'opefully we'll be out of 'ere by t'en.
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[ He's surprised by the gentleness, but he doesn't comment on it, just folds his arms accross his stomach. ]
We kill 'im, who knows who comes in next. We know we can take him. Still, one of us is gonna have to keep our eyes open if the other one's gonna sleep while he's around.
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You overestimate t'e security in t'is place. If we dress 'im up nice for t'e guards...
[He means it mostly as a joke. Plus, he pretty much ruined the guy's face, so it's looking like a no-go.]
If we kill enough of t'em, t'ey may be deterred from sending in more men. But you're suggesting we sleep in shifts until t'e situation is rectified?
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[ Scout doesn't care that much. Spy can do whatever he feels is right. ]
Can't be more than three days before we make a move.
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[He walks over to their cellmate and turns him over with the tip of his shoe. Blood spills down the side of his face with the movement, and a tiny gurgle floats out of his mouth. Spy steps back with a grimace, turning back to his teammate.]
Maybe you should get some rest.
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[ It's pretty clear what Spy is saying bit still. ]
I'm good. What were you talkin about?
continuously unsure of what time of day it is for them
[Their own Medic got pretty bad, but usually they were in good enough shape to be thrown against walls repeatedly.]
We'd just agreed t'at we should be out of 'ere in merely days' time. I'm not one to impose bed times on grown men, but I'm not sure if you're in any condition to contemplate much.
I don't think they even know past meals they get
[ You're bit going to counsel him to anything wise like that, Spy. ]
We got everything figured out for the next push?
probably not. i assume at this point in time too early for bed though? :b
[Spy crouches in front of Scout's bed and holds up three fingers.]
'Ow many fingers can you see?
works for me! scout doesn't know
[ Defiantly. He swats at that hand a bit. ]
I got it.
the struggles of no windows
Wait, you're not being serious, right?
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[ Batting back, just because. It's almost like he can't hero it. ]
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[Taps the backs of Scout's fingers individually.]
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I'm right here, froglegs.
[ Even if he can't see that well. Not that he knows it. ]
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I'm not quite so sure about that. I was 'olding up t'ree fingers, not four.
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Sure, but you're also a lyin' asshole.
[ Just sayin. ]
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You t'ink I'd lie about somet'ing so trivial as t'is just to fuck wit' you?
[Give him a little credit.]
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[ Grasping at the other fingers to snag them all at once or try. Great game. ]
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Please. You're not t'at special.
[Slides his fingers out of Scout's grip before resuming the tapping against Scout's hands, following the lines of his hand wraps.]
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[ He swells a tiny bit, moving to swat at the other's wrists and hands. ]
Right now, pal, I'm the only thing you got.
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[He'll admit that much. With a wry grin, he grabs at Scout's wrists.]
But by t'at logic, I am also t'e only t'ing you've got.
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You sayin I own you?
[ Dig dig dig. ]
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[Answering questions with questions. Spy follows the tugging, but he doesn't let go.]
What would you do wit' me, if you owned me?
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