[open and closed prompts]

[end_recording]

WHO: Jonathan Sims, Ojiro Sniper, Soldier: 76, Roxas, anyone else
WHERE: safehouse, fighting rings
WHEN: various late November/December
WHAT: OPEN prompt for Jonathan
NOTES OR WARNINGS: violence, some mild horror imagery with eyes and worms

((Contact praecipitanter if you are interested in a starter!))

Comments

c; i'm so sorry

[neutralally]

Worick blinks bleary eyed at Jonathan, completely unaffected by his state of undress as he begins throwing on clothes. It's quite early in the morning and not many people are awake and up around the safehouse, which is probably what the other man had been betting on.

Unfortunately, Worick's bladder waits for no man to finish showering. He offers Jonathan a shrug of his shoulders and walks over to the toilet, unzips, and begins handling his business...literally.

"Don't know what you're so moody about. Not like I'm a chick coming in here while your pants are off."

[end_recording]

At least Worick has the dubious distinction of having seen Jonathan mostly naked already. Jonathan sighs audibly, scowling with his back turned to Worick as he gets his pants on.

"I was hoping for a little bit of privacy," he mutters. "I thought I had seen my last locker room over a decade ago."

[neutralally]

"Then you should have tried locking the door. Wait...do these doors even lock?" He wouldn't know. He's long ago given up on the idea of privacy after living with a roommate for over twenty years. Between that and his usual line of work he doesn't have any modesty left to try and preserve.

"Spoken like a man whose never had to share a tiny bathroom with someone else. Better hope that blog of yours brings in some kind of income."

[end_recording]

"I lived alone." Jonathan confirms tartly, jerking his shirt back on.

He sighs at the reminder of his highly uncertain prospects. "It brings in some money." He just wasn't sure it was enough to afford a place on his own, above ground, somewhere half-decent. Above-ground was not negotiable. He wasn't a claustrophobe—somehow—he just had rational concerns about recent earthquakes and very vivid memories of being buried alive.

"What about you? I noticed you never shared your 'background'."

[neutralally]

"And it shows." Worick tosses that little remark over his shoulder as he finishes up and zips up his zipper.

Traveling to the sink, he turns the water on and begins lathering his hands with soap. The remark about his background prompts a low chuckle from him. A part of him is still amused by the cover backstory he's been given, while another, more suspicious part of him can't get over how closely they have him pinned. Or would have had he continued having the life he had been born into.

"Not much to share. I'm a spoiled trust fund kid surviving off my dead parent's money. A bit of a cliche really. I think yours is more creative."

[end_recording]

Jonathan ignores the barb. He has the decency to be aware of his personality, even if he's given up on trying to be more lovely. Dressed, he finally turns around grab a towel for his dripping hair.

"It was certainly elaborate for a prank." There's some truth to Jonathan's backstory as well—In spirit. A hint of conspiracy and he loses sight of anything else. "And how was it that these 'parents' of yours died?"

[neutralally]

After drying his hands on a towel, he twists around to lean back against the sink, facing Jonathan. His arms cross over his chest.

"Why are you so interested with the details? It's all fake anyways."

[end_recording]

"Of course it's fake. But it's still information. Cassius chose it for a reason; it might mean something." Jonathan's aware he sounds exactly like a paranoid crackpot, especially considering he was given the name Elton John, but that's fine. Sorting through esoteric detritus for useful scraps was his job.

[neutralally]

"Or he pulled it out of some randomized scenario generator. With the kind of tech this place has it wouldn't surprise me if they have something like that. Easier then pulling detailed fake backgrounds for who knows how many people out of your ass on the fly." Paranoid is definitely what Jonathan sounds like, and that's coming from a guy who isn't unfamiliar with grabbing onto information and obsessively researching it until he has all the answers he needs.

[end_recording]

"Fine. Then I have nothing better to do, and I delight in chasing dead leads. Happy? Will you tell me now?"

[neutralally]

Worick bursts out laughing at Jonathan's blatant concession. He's just so easy to tease and it makes him enjoy winding him up even more just to get a reaction.

"Fine. Fine. If you're that interested. They died in some laboratory accident. Let me think...it was Cassowary Laboratories. Happy now?"

[end_recording]

"Cassowary..." And Jonathan's off, gaze already looking abstracted and distant as he starts rapidly sifting through information. "'The world's most dangerous bird', supposedly..."

[neutralally]

"And they're omnivores. What's your point?" Jonathan isn't the only one with a storage of information.

"You think the name means something? Seems like a stretch."

[end_recording]

"It's not going to be that easy," Jonathan grumbles. It occurs to hime they don't need to be doing this in the bathroom, but he's not adept at moving and and using the implant and narrowly avoids crashing into to Worrick. He grabs the wall to help guide himself through the doorway. "But I reviewed some of the previous material concerning this 'Cassius' figure. He referred to us as 'little birds'. I doubt that is a coincidence."