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[fessus]

WHO? Midnighter thingpuncher, Noctis fessus, and Hei dipolar
WHAT? A BASE chat becomes a TDM nightmare.
WHEN? Post-shapers, just pre-TDM.
ANYTHING ELSE? Why not.

[ He’s not sure which has a greater potential for disaster: all three of them meeting up in person after the unintentionally volatile events of the shaper infestation or his broiled eel. He props open the oven door after deciding it’s the latter, having purposefully waited for a time that Angel would be in one of her all but comatose states after staying up far too long on the network. At least they have a few things in common. ]

>>TO: @TRENTCOAT, @BURGERKING
Hey Hei, M, I have you both on this. Swing by capsule 14 when you have a sec.

[ There’s a brief pause before the second message comes as obvious enticement. ]

it’s food-related.

Comments

[dipolar]

(that's a good question and he's keen on listening to the answer despite knowing a fraction of what the war means for the king. he saw the snippets in a dream, the plague his world his suffering, the people he's had to kill and the oppressive worry that permeated it all.

maybe that's telling when he doesn't speak and when he doesn't turn his head to look at noctis, keeping his eyes on and around the table.)

[fessus]

[ Hei's silence feels as loud as Midnighter's questions and he too avoids looking at him. How direct and telling should his answer be? This is hardly what he called the two of them here for but that goal's since been trampled underfoot. It's true that no grudges appear to be lingering after their former disagreements, a blessing unto itself, but that's just one hurdle now out of many he expects them to face together. ]

It's not like that. It's been fought in stages but... now my country doesn't really have a force large enough for that style of combat. We've been at war for a long time but they took our crown city, finally, after faking peace talks like a bunch of damn cowards, so I've been on the run on the outside. Attacking their bases, taking out their soldiers where I can... A small group, just me and three other guys.

I wouldn't call it "back lines".

[thingpuncher]

[Midnighter senses the kid's embarrassment-- it's kind of hard not to-- and assumes he's grown up on stories of glorious fighting at the front. Probably missed conscription age or whatever, and now the whole thing's blown to shit. But far from being judgmental, his eyes light with obvious approval; he's impressed.]

Shit, kid, you did recon? Actually, that makes sense, it's perfect for your fighting style. If you get pulled on missions like that wherever we're going, let me know. I've done time with spy shit, I know the deal.

[AKA he trusts you to take care of yourself, really, he promises, he definitely does (let him look out for you).]

[dipolar]

It does suit you.

(taking the chance to help where he can. he'd rather him be away from all of it, but if he's been picking things off one by one then surely he won't bite off more than he can chew.

hei's seen him fight extensively and there isn't anyone on board this ship he'd sooner rely on. m's reliability has also been proven, despite the lack of things to kill on board. the shapers were too easy, but soon he'll see them both in a very real, very stressful setting. suffice to say, he's ready to get off of this ship and make it happen — so much so that he speaks up again with his muted revelations.)

We'd all work well together.

[fessus]

Recon? [ It's obvious from the quiet surprise in his own tone that that isn't what he'd meant but he steels his expression again, propping an elbow up on the table in a lean forward. ]

Ah... Mm, yeah, something like that. [ Very, very little like that, but it's growing increasingly clear to him that their understandings of war are different. He's never been walled in by mud with a slew of other soldiers, awaiting orders, and those he'll be in the trenches with have likely never fought the corrupted form of a daemon. ] I'd do that kind of work if I had to so I can bug you if it comes down to it.

... what, us three, though? [ He considers it. ] Yeah, probably, if Midnighter doesn't end up worrying too much. I bet he'd be like "good job, Hei" and then pull you back so he could kill-steal...

[thingpuncher]

Reconnaissance. [Midnighter just assumes they don't use that word for it in whatever fantasyland Noctis is from.]

[He's genuinely puzzled by the kid's critique, though.] The hell's kill-stealing? [He looks to Hei, 'do you know?' implicit in his expression.]

[dipolar]

...

(what the fuck is kill-stealing? thinks this over and comes up with the logical response.

sagaciously,) Stealing other people's kills.

(it's a real nuisance being this smart.)

1/2

[fessus]

... [ He is so unimpressed with you both right now. ]

2/2

[fessus]

I know what recon is. I'm a fighter, not a spy, so you getting that out of what I said was weird. But you keep underestimating me. [ He plucks up Hei's fork, jabbing it in Midnighter's direction to punctuate his point with a reach right over the man in the middle. Sorry. ]

And yeah, it's stealing kills. I'm saying he'd jerk you back and then act like you couldn't do it yourself. I bet I'm right, too.

[thingpuncher]

[On instinct, Midnighter picks up Hei's plate as a shield.]

Your skillset is better for spying, so your commander or whoever is shit at utilizing you. Not my fucking fault, don't get pissy.

[He moves the plate farther forward, right in front of Hei, to counterbalance the weight of Noctis' fork strike a little better.]

And kills don't belong to people; you can't steal them. Christ, they call me the psychopath.

[dipolar]

...

(eel juice is dripping onto his lap.)

[fessus]

What commander? Who do you think is leading my team, my bodyguard? [ In the heat of the moment that question slips out, fork glancing off of the plate uselessly before Noctis draws back with an agitated exhale. ]

Kills belong to people if you're the one that's been doing all the fighting so far. You're just avoiding the point anyway... That's you, I described you perfectly.

[thingpuncher]

The hell are they doing sending somebody with a bodyguard into a warzone? Your commander sucks. [Nope, not getting it.]

[He retracts his plate shield once Noctis retreats from his fork salvo, placing it back down on the table with an agitated clatter.]

You've never even seen me fight. Neither of you have. So don't tell me how I get my work done.

[This, he thinks, Hei will understand better than Noctis. He is how he fights. That's the purest expression of himself, who he really is.]

[dipolar]

(pulls his hands away from the table, stiff-arming both of them at the chest. get out of my personal space.)

Noctis makes executive decisions where his own actions are concerned. There's no one higher than him, he defers to no one. (a glance from m to noctis,) And what M does in battle is none of your damn business. If we see an opening, we're going to take it. It's not stealing, it's efficiency.

(a rough sigh, before blinking open a notification on his BCE.)

You're both underestimating each other and it's pathetic. Now get away from me, I have a message.

[fessus]

[ The look he gives Midnighter is dripping with sheer incredulity when he mentions his non-existent commander yet again, opening his mouth to speak when Hei does the job for him. Finally. It's enough justification that he gets from the simple back-up clarification that he's largely unbothered by the chiding that follows, already checking his own BCE. ]

... Yeah. Same here. [ Finally he's snatching up that plate himself, reading over the message as he hauls himself up to take it and the utensils back into the kitchen. Another mission... ]

Guess we're cutting this short.

[thingpuncher]

[As much as he discounts Noctis' opinions, he values Hei's, and defers to his wisdom on the subject. If Hei has invested his nebulous faith in this kid, then Midnighter will too.]

[Or he'll try anyway.]

[He sees the message, and a grin lights his face.] Gotta run back to my place and grab my gear before heading out. Catch you on the other side.

[Because obviously, all of them are going, right? He stands.]

[dipolar]

(satisfied with the responses and heartened by the fact that they are all going. a sentiment he's almost afraid of. they invited him over, fed him, worried over him, and now they are fighting together?

it's dangerous, he knows that. but he's always been weak.)

I'll leave my backpack here and retrieve it when we've returned from Vorspiel. (sidles out of the booth after m, already prepared for the transfer.) Noctis. M. Thanks.

(a nod, before he's gone.)

[fessus]

[ He's just turned back around when Hei's saying his goodbyes, giving him a quick nod before the transfer. ]

Ah... yeah, sure. Next time it'll be cleaner. [ Next time. Right, reluctant as he is to actually tidy, he manages to find the main point here. And then he switches his focus to Midnighter. ]

... well, that's my cue to go too, so I'll see you down there. [ ... ] I know you're good at what you do and you're gonna' do it the best way you think of, so... Forget it. [ Time to shrug off that backpack, accept that mission, and then get the hell out of here too. ]