[ feed starts off shaky, focused at a weird angle on the ground. it's riddled with static and white noise, aside from some very heavy breathing. after a good minute, there's Iowa! helmeted face and all. ]
Alejandro? Where are you? Hey, what the fuck is going on?
[ looks to the left... looks to the right... ]Fuck. Did my armor lock down again?
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he looks up at the door opening and yeah this was the worst idea ever, because he already feels like crying again. in fact he looks away pretty fast and he is not wiping at his eyes, thanks.] So, uh, what happened? [and wow, look who sounds like shit still. fantastic.]
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Uh. Well. I found... myself. I guess. [ he says, taking his helmet off and shaking his head around. ] Fucked up. [ he supplies while stepping further into the room. ] But I uh. Figured out what happened to me, at least, so that's something.
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well. at least it was really him and he was really alive and he still can't believe his eyes- especially not when they're as sore as they are now.] Oh. So what happened? [he's staying on his end of the couch overrrr here. because he doesn't think moving is a great idea.] Besides the, uh, obvious.
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several minutes later, he comes back out, wearing the most casual clothing he had; a t-shirt and some slim fitting jeans. not his cup of tea, but it felt much better than the armor right now. ] That's better... [ sighh...
he slowly makes his way over to Simmons, sitting down on the couch, but not too closely. he knows Simmons likes his personal space. ] Um. Well. You're familiar with armor enhancements right? [ he starts, wringing at his hands. ]
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he's still having a problem looking at him, but that's to be expected really. simmons does look over at the question, though, and nods.] Yeah. We've seen a few on the field and Grif and I screwed around with them at the fallback facility.
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[ he sucks in a breath... this was so hard ffff. ] I was going to help Alejandro with mine; I remember telling him I could use it to block out that AI from finding us... I don't remember activating it, but I must've. [ he rubs his neck. ] The damage to my uh. Body. Kind of fits the description. It must've shorted out and fragged my armor.
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he frowns though at this explanation, because, well, he didn't like it of course. simmons sniffs a little and tries to morph it into a cough, but it's a pathetic attempt. but he's giving donut a pretty incredulous look right now.] So why the fuck did you use it without your AI?
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[ and he laughs, turning away to stare straight ahead. ] It's kind of my specialty, scraping by death and stuff. Just barely making it. Making everyone turn their heads, make 'em think I'm fucking invincible.
[ now he's nervously playing with his hair. ] I'm the rookie. The youngest in the project. Do you know what that means? It means I have to work that much harder to prove I'm worthy of being there. So, I guess, knowing me, I probably didn't think anything would happen. And if it did? I would have gotten out of it somehow.
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[he shakes his head, because he has no idea what he's asking, but he sniffles again.] I don't know. This fucking sucks.
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Because. They're here. It's all but habit anymore. I don't want them to think I've gone soft, even if I'm AWOL. Reputation means everything. Freelancers are like sharks; the second they smell blood in the water--the smallest bit of weakness--, they pick you apart until there's nothing left.
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So you go and get yourself killed instead. [god he hates freelancers.] A heads up, next time, would be great. [annnd he's really considering going to his room right now because he's starting to shake a little.] So I'm not caught off-guard. [sniff!] You're sure you're ok?
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I'm fine. [ he turns to face Simmons, reaching over to put his arm around him. ] C'mere. [ now whether or not Simmons is going to be receptive to this gesture is a mystery, but Iowa's not one to just let him blubber to himself. ] I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run the program for so long. This wouldn't have happened if I wasn't so stupid.
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he's a little too busy trying to wrap this up and making absolutely zero progress.] You shouldn't have and you're a fucking idiot. [which sounds pathetic when he's pretty much crying it out. fantastic. another manly moment for simmons.] Stop dying, asshole.
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he contemplates just letting Simmons rip into him, but he decides to speak up again instead. ] I know. I'm sorry, Simmons. I'm sorry I keep doing this to you. [ he looks over at him and resists the urge to just pull him against him. Simmons probably wouldn't have appreciated that. ] I promise I'll take better care of myself.
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but he nods again, sniffing a little.] Yeah, alright- it's fine. [he's not sure what about it is fine, exactly, since it really isn't, but he looks up at donut for a second] You'd better. [really, really empty threat at this point but whatever.]
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