I woke up from the longest dream

[fessus]

WHO? Midnighter thingpuncher and Noctis fessus
WHAT? Chatting post-escape from the Regency base.
WHEN? See above.
ANYTHING ELSE? Possible man pain.

He never thought he'd be glad to smell the putrid air of the No Man's Land again, but when his head stops spinning and he regains his balance he feels a bizarre sense of relief. It solidifies what he'd felt when he first saw Midnighter again upon the base, barely engaging in more conversation than was necessary -- enough to learn he and Bucky had come there of their own volition and weren't just more prisoners -- but it had been enough to make him feel a hell of a lot more secure.

Now that they're here, facing old dangers or not, he can exhale some of the pressure that threatens what composure he still has. Midnighter's who he turns to then, swallowing heavily.

"Hey, listen--" But whatever words he means to follow up with don't come, throat tightening.

Comments

[fessus]

"Well, I was in a worse spot than you were... ah, probably. So that worry makes more sense." Bluntly, more or less. He takes a delayed swipe at Midnighter for the punch, just as harmless.

"Did he say who he was?"

[thingpuncher]

"He called himself Kebechet. It's probably some bullshit codename, like all our user IDs on the network." He shrugs. This isn't something he's overthinking.

[fessus]

"... yeah, I had a feeling it'd be him." And the name brings the memories back too, arms crossing as his gaze lowers to the pockmarked earth.

"He's the one I kept dealing with."

[thingpuncher]

Kept dealing with. Midnighter can guess what that means. The idea fills him with an impotent rage-- more people needing to die who aren't dead yet-- but it doesn't matter. There's nothing for it, now.

Instead, he pulls something out of the pack slung over his shoulder. Not exactly a subtle subject change, but Noctis is a smart kid. He'll get it. "Hey, remember when I said I'd find you a good knife?"

He hands Noctis a blade he stole from the hands of a long dead soldier.

[fessus]

There's a moment of silence and he clamors internally for something to fill it with, mouth opening to reassure him that it's fine -- yeah, it's obvious what the problem is -- even if that's untrue but Midnighter's luckily speaking up first. Noctis tilts his head curiously as he watches, suddenly presented with the new weapon.

It looks... like it's seen more than its fair share of this war too, poorly maintained no doubt from a lack of time and resources rather than from a lack of desire. He reaches for it, quiet for a moment or two longer.

"... it's got pretty good composition, you know. It's weighted well... just needs a little sharpening and help with the upkeep, maybe add a little crossguard to make the grip on it more solid." He raises his head then, cutting off that needless chatter. "Thanks, Midnighter."