who ;
chttrbox_recon and Whoever else is in Spartan Base at the time
what ; Jun's home and trying to work through is relapse.
where ; Spartan Base, his room, the kitchen, or anywhere inbetween
when ; May 19th
warning(s) ; PTSD
(
Tomorrow's comin' around a hairpin turn in the road )
Comments 42
It took him approximately three hours to cook -- whatever it was he ended up with in the pot he was carrying. He was pretty sure it could have been called 'chicken' once upon a time, but now it was just 'things in a pot that smelled sort of like food and sort of like gun oil'.
He made no secret of his approach, stopped outside the door and bumped it with his elbow, not quite a knock so much as an indication he'd meant to stop there.]
Hey. It's Thom. Brought some -- unidentifiable semi-sentient mass that could probably have been called food in another life. Want me to leave it outside?
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Hey man. [He motions Thom in, his voice worn. He'd been sleeping, mostly, but hardly getting any rest, and it's showing on his face, in the dark circles under his eyes and the slight crease to his brow that hasn't lifted since the whole thing happened.]
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I don't think cocoa powder is any way to season chicken, personally, but hey. Taking cues from the master isn't as easy as a guy might think.
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Don't you know? Chocolate makes everything better. [It's certainly one of his favored ingredients, when he's up to it. He's hoping it holds true now; he could use a little chocolaty goodness.
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He knew Jun would have to come back on his own terms, and he respected that, but it didn't stop him from waiting outside Three's room against the wall for a chance to talk.
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"Yeah?" It comes out a little sharply, frustration at the situation and the ever constant oppression.
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"Just wanted to say welcome back, Three. Been too long."
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"Oh .. yeah. Sorry about that." He wasn't quite sure what else to say. Glad to be back just didn't seem to fit the situation, not yet.
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Kat sat at her desk, head in hand as she stared at the scroll of text on the screen directly in front of her, her robotic hand moving swiftly over a keypad to the side. She pauses, briefly, hesitating a moment as she stares at her work, hand drawing away to rest on the corner of the table.
"Dot, what's his status?"
A changing, glowing pattern of crosshairs winks to life on one of the nearby screens, her pattern shifting as she speaks, "Specification?"
Kat's fingers move across the keypad again, and with a few strokes brings up a few stills from various security feeds, some taken during Jun's stint outside base.
"Noble Three."
Dot never hesitates, launching off, "Without proper psychiatric evaluation there is no accurate information on Noble Three's mental ( ... )
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A moment later, realizing what he'd done, he sags back against the wall and shakes his fist out. He glances either way down the hall, this time trying to anticipate her popping out at him.
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"Noble Three, please do not destroy the equipment," Dot's disembodied voice could be heard first before her crosshairs winked into view on an installed monitor screen.
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This hallway was suddenly feeling too small, and yet too exposed.
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