oh, fitz. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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meadowlarklogs2019-04-19 09:24 pm
retravel) wrote in meadowlarklogs2019-04-19 09:24 pm
Entry tags:
BUT THE DOG YOU REALLY GOT TO DREAD —
WHO: Team Everything Hurts and I'm Dying — Fitz (retravel), Markus (saviorexe), and Cain (blyat)
WHERE: The train to New Tokyo
WHEN: 8 October
WHAT: Surprise
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Discussions of death and gore likely
[ Fitz arrives within the allotted window, roundabouts an hour after their abrupt conversation. By now, he has a few additional details in his pocket: They weren't the only ones who fell for the spear's trap, and multiple others have expressed a similar relationship to pain in the other reality. That's not nothing — but it's also not the point of this exercise. 'Course Fitz wants to establish a timeline, a working theory, causation, but what matters most is seeing Markus and Cain both in the flesh. Whole, alive, alright to an extent. Has to find them, doesn't he? He promised as much. Hell, he reiterated it to Peggy only hours ago, when he shared the network conversation between the three of them and concluded simply, I've got them.
Urgent business taken care of, and his pain is finally subsiding, he arrives at the designated train-car worse for wear. Button-down rumpled and hair tousled, scruffier than usual, as if he hasn't slept at all (or slept badly, rather), which he imagines is altogether fair, considering his last memories before waking. No doubt Carter will remind him to neaten up prior to their arrival. Can't be shabby when they meet PRESERVE or New Tokyo's Morningstar operatives. Near the back of the train, far from the dining and communal areas, the car is empty but for a couple at the front, a girl with noise-cancelling headphones in the middle, and gentlemen napping not far from the table for four where Fitz has sat himself, rucksack in the space beside him. It'll have to do, for want of absolute privacy.
Looks as though he might fall asleep, head lolling into his hand, when he spies a familiar face. His features lift then, not quite bright, but relieved, definitely. Eyes too wide, as always, scanning the other for tells of hurt. A jerky movement, as if he isn't sure if he should stand, or if he's allowed to reach out and affirm Markus' presence with taction. It's a short-lived battle, ending with his arms around the other for a hug more comfortable — and briefer than the last. Has to be that way, or the creeping unease and aching guilt will break through his delicate surface tension of calm. The bond can only be fooled for so long. ]
[ softly, as he pulls back — ] Good to see you.
[ 'Cause it is, isn't it? And that's what you say, when you've been waiting on a train. ]
retravel), Markus (saviorexe), and Cain (blyat)WHERE: The train to New Tokyo
WHEN: 8 October
WHAT: Surprise
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Discussions of death and gore likely
[ Fitz arrives within the allotted window, roundabouts an hour after their abrupt conversation. By now, he has a few additional details in his pocket: They weren't the only ones who fell for the spear's trap, and multiple others have expressed a similar relationship to pain in the other reality. That's not nothing — but it's also not the point of this exercise. 'Course Fitz wants to establish a timeline, a working theory, causation, but what matters most is seeing Markus and Cain both in the flesh. Whole, alive, alright to an extent. Has to find them, doesn't he? He promised as much. Hell, he reiterated it to Peggy only hours ago, when he shared the network conversation between the three of them and concluded simply, I've got them.
Urgent business taken care of, and his pain is finally subsiding, he arrives at the designated train-car worse for wear. Button-down rumpled and hair tousled, scruffier than usual, as if he hasn't slept at all (or slept badly, rather), which he imagines is altogether fair, considering his last memories before waking. No doubt Carter will remind him to neaten up prior to their arrival. Can't be shabby when they meet PRESERVE or New Tokyo's Morningstar operatives. Near the back of the train, far from the dining and communal areas, the car is empty but for a couple at the front, a girl with noise-cancelling headphones in the middle, and gentlemen napping not far from the table for four where Fitz has sat himself, rucksack in the space beside him. It'll have to do, for want of absolute privacy.
Looks as though he might fall asleep, head lolling into his hand, when he spies a familiar face. His features lift then, not quite bright, but relieved, definitely. Eyes too wide, as always, scanning the other for tells of hurt. A jerky movement, as if he isn't sure if he should stand, or if he's allowed to reach out and affirm Markus' presence with taction. It's a short-lived battle, ending with his arms around the other for a hug more comfortable — and briefer than the last. Has to be that way, or the creeping unease and aching guilt will break through his delicate surface tension of calm. The bond can only be fooled for so long. ]
[ softly, as he pulls back — ] Good to see you.
[ 'Cause it is, isn't it? And that's what you say, when you've been waiting on a train. ]