It feels like a trap. He isn't sure he'll take her up on it. A long time passes as he mulls it over before deciding he doesn't want to be sitting alone dwelling on what could happen any longer.
Connie's section of the habdeck is peaceful enough. Lots of thick trees and soft underbrush, good for cover if she ever needs it and easy to bug if she wants to keep an eye on things. There's a thin winding road that snakes through the trees and into the heart of her section that lead to a cabin by a small lake. By all appearances it looks pretty damn peaceful.
Connie's seated outside the front door on the porch, the blanket Wash had brought her earlier folded across the back of her chair as she idly whittles away at a piece of wood. Don't know how long Locus will take, but she's comfy. She can wait.
He said he was on his way. He meant what he said, and it only takes the time to travel between biomes before he finds his way to this sheltered bit of woodland. It's quiet, quiet enough that he suspects he'll hear anything coming at him.
But nothing does. And Connie is waiting at the cabin, it appears.
Locus still hasn't taken to his armor, not yet. It's a level of exposure he's willing to risk after Silent Horizon. But it also means his wariness is plain enough for anyone to see at a glance.
Honestly the silence was something she forgot to plan for. In proper forest and woodlands there's usually a wealth of ambient sounds. Birds, insects, frogs...the comparative stillness of the habdeck reinforces just how alien and shallow it all is.
Maybe she'll install noise generators around the place, it's too big to be so quiet.
Speaking of which, Connie glances up at the sound of the approaching footsteps. It's the first time she's seen him without the helmet, good to know what he looks like under there. She lifts the hand holding the piece of wood she'd been carving in a small wave before gesturing to other chair on the deck. Further than an arm's length away but close enough that they could have a private conversation without shouting.
Straight to the point, huh? Setting the chunk of wood on the arm of her chair she shuts her pocket knife and shoves it back into her jeans.
""Well, there's still a lot I don't know but let me sum it up by what York said-Taylor, said," she corrects herself. Still need to get used to saying his real name. You'd think she'd be used to saying a proper name instead of a state.
"Something about you trying to kill Wash, but how you decided to quit being bad and try to do good."
She watches him as she rests her elbows on her knees.
"I guess I'm curious as to what changed your mind."
"There has been a great deal of curiosity surrounding that subject. I'm surprised you don't keep one another informed," he replies tensely, not approaching the porch but remaining standing at a distance from the cabin. Still within comfortable talking distance, but...
This is not a comfortable conversation, not even with those he knows relatively well. Connie, he does not.
"We had a lot of catching up to do. It...takes time to earn back trust once lost," she answers, a little uncomfortable now but if she wanted this to be a conversation then that meant she needed to give a little to get a little.
"I don't know the scope of what you've done but I know what it's like to make that choice. To leave behind what you've lived for for so long to try and do the right thing."
One heavy eyebrow lifts. If this truly is a conversation and not an interrogation, as she promised, then she is correct. Give a little, get a little. It seems only fair.
"Some would argue that is the role of a soldier. To follow orders."
To be dispensable. He'd seen it time and again in war, watched countless soldiers fall and be replaced. That was the way of things. Who gave the orders now matters more than it did, but his opinion of what a soldier is hasn't changed much.
"But what's a soldier without the call to action? Without a cause we find worthy enough to put down our lives for? We thought we were fighting for the good of humanity, to end the war but we weren't."
Her fingernails dig into her palms as the heat rises a in her voice. Not aimed at Locus but her anger at the Director was never going to go away.
"We weren't soldiers anymore...just a deluded group of criminals and killers."
"Monsters," he clarifies. It's clear from the way he's studying her now that he wholly understands waking up to the fact that what you've been fighting for is meaningless. "And once you realize that, there's no point in continuing to fight the same battles."
Her attention shifts back to Locus as he speaks, a small bitter curl to her lips as she nods. It's something they've been called before on missions, something she didn't realize was true until much later.
"When your eyes are opened to that fact, you have two choices. Embrace the monster you have become, or abandon what you know. Find another path."
A path you might stumble on along the way, as he's well discovered. But Washington has taken that path and seen it through. It's possible. And he will never know for certain if he doesn't try.
He falls silent after that. Hopefully, her question is answered.
It's what she did, not that it really lead her anywhere for very long but...it helped the others get out and that's worth something. York had told her he'd been worried that Locus's slip in Silent Horizon would be lingering over him but so long as he keeps hold of that conviction? She thinks he'll be okay.
"Thank you for the answer, I know I didn't have much right to ask," she tips her head in his direction, a bit of the tension in her shoulders loosening up,"And- my previous offer to spar is still there whenever you're up for it."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It feels like a trap. He isn't sure he'll take her up on it. A long time passes as he mulls it over before deciding he doesn't want to be sitting alone dwelling on what could happen any longer.
"On my way."
Text -> Action
And there's nothing to do after that but wait.
Connie's section of the habdeck is peaceful enough. Lots of thick trees and soft underbrush, good for cover if she ever needs it and easy to bug if she wants to keep an eye on things. There's a thin winding road that snakes through the trees and into the heart of her section that lead to a cabin by a small lake. By all appearances it looks pretty damn peaceful.
Connie's seated outside the front door on the porch, the blanket Wash had brought her earlier folded across the back of her chair as she idly whittles away at a piece of wood. Don't know how long Locus will take, but she's comfy. She can wait.
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But nothing does. And Connie is waiting at the cabin, it appears.
Locus still hasn't taken to his armor, not yet. It's a level of exposure he's willing to risk after Silent Horizon. But it also means his wariness is plain enough for anyone to see at a glance.
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Maybe she'll install noise generators around the place, it's too big to be so quiet.
Speaking of which, Connie glances up at the sound of the approaching footsteps. It's the first time she's seen him without the helmet, good to know what he looks like under there. She lifts the hand holding the piece of wood she'd been carving in a small wave before gesturing to other chair on the deck. Further than an arm's length away but close enough that they could have a private conversation without shouting.
"Thanks for coming."
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But he's attempting this business of reaching back out, when that hand is first extended. They'd see what it earned him.
"What did you wish to speak of?"
Better to get it out in the open, like ripping off a bandaid. He can stop rolling the possibilities around in his head, at least.
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""Well, there's still a lot I don't know but let me sum it up by what York said-Taylor, said," she corrects herself. Still need to get used to saying his real name. You'd think she'd be used to saying a proper name instead of a state.
"Something about you trying to kill Wash, but how you decided to quit being bad and try to do good."
She watches him as she rests her elbows on her knees.
"I guess I'm curious as to what changed your mind."
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This is not a comfortable conversation, not even with those he knows relatively well. Connie, he does not.
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"I don't know the scope of what you've done but I know what it's like to make that choice. To leave behind what you've lived for for so long to try and do the right thing."
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One heavy eyebrow lifts. If this truly is a conversation and not an interrogation, as she promised, then she is correct. Give a little, get a little. It seems only fair.
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"I refused to be part of the lie. We all thought we were doing the right thing but we were nothing more than tools and test subjects. Disposable."
There's a wealth of bitterness in the last word.
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To be dispensable. He'd seen it time and again in war, watched countless soldiers fall and be replaced. That was the way of things. Who gave the orders now matters more than it did, but his opinion of what a soldier is hasn't changed much.
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Her fingernails dig into her palms as the heat rises a in her voice. Not aimed at Locus but her anger at the Director was never going to go away.
"We weren't soldiers anymore...just a deluded group of criminals and killers."
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That, in essence, is the answer to her question.
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"Yeah. That's a good way to put it."
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A path you might stumble on along the way, as he's well discovered. But Washington has taken that path and seen it through. It's possible. And he will never know for certain if he doesn't try.
He falls silent after that. Hopefully, her question is answered.
no subject
It's what she did, not that it really lead her anywhere for very long but...it helped the others get out and that's worth something. York had told her he'd been worried that Locus's slip in Silent Horizon would be lingering over him but so long as he keeps hold of that conviction? She thinks he'll be okay.
"Thank you for the answer, I know I didn't have much right to ask," she tips her head in his direction, a bit of the tension in her shoulders loosening up,"And- my previous offer to spar is still there whenever you're up for it."