(Untitled)

[sniperbitch]

Who: O'Brien, Thom, and Emile
What: APOLOGIES AND STUFF LIKE THAT
Where: someplace in Kurzweil
When: after this
Warnings: Profanity, mature themes no homo well actually...

Comments

[evaskullface]

[He'd noticed the location, but hadn't paid it any particular thought beyond proximity to the teleporter; he'd already begin thinking of the station relative to the useful devices rather than through the physical distance.

He hangs back a little hesitantly (not that anyone outside of Noble would necessarily recognize it as such); he's grateful for Thom's backup in this.]

Should be nearby.

[It has a bit of a question to it, even though the location ping is clearly marked on his HUD. But he waits for Thom anyway, deciding there's just as much chance he'll fuck this up as he did last time, and he doesn't actually want that to happen this time.]

[thom_293]

[Don't worry, bro, he's got your back.]

You know, I sort of feel like I should have offered to jump singing out of a giant cake or something.

[The banter is gentle more than anything, and its sole purpose is pretty much to take Emile's mind off how damned jittery he is. It's not pre-mission jitters, Thom's pretty sure Emile doesn't get those, but he's definitely... a little nervous.

It's obvious that he cares about O'Brien, his good opinion, his well-being. And O'Brien, for his part...

Despite the fact that he's screwed up to probably warrant the full time work of no less than three psychologists, Thom's pretty sure the feeling's mutual. As mutual as it can be.]

Four? You'll do fine.

[evaskullface]

Fine as I did last time?

[He won't deny he's nervous; it's a feeling he's not exactly used to. Pre-battle jitters are something he doesn't have at all, really. It was more like pre-battle anticipation.

Still, O'Brien should be here somewhere, so he tries to stay calm and fosuc on the situation.]

[sniperbitch]

[ 'Somewhere' would be just around the corner of some decorative bushes, and O'Brien stands up automatically, nervously, from his bench the moment they come into sight. He's dressed in his usual armor but minus helmet, and Cal's rifle has been left behind today. He wouldn't need it.

Waving them over seems useless, obviously they'd already seen him, so he just stands awkwardly waiting, nervous fingers fiddling with his gear. He can't pussy out of this, though. It needed to be done. ]