( his hair's short, but not short enough that it keeps the bit of brown that's managed to grow back in from curling. there's a try not to fuck shit up, and a sit and there's not shit else he can do than to follow along with it. which is fine. ish.

okay it's really not fine at all but it's whatever, nothing he can do about it now. so instead of getting tense and freaking out, aidan sits down. raises the class of water he's got in hand and takes an easy sip out of it like he isn't sitting here in clothes that definitely don't belong to him with who the fuck knows what running through his veins and causing him to not be able to do jack shit. )

So, ( voice light, airy. without a care in the world and all that shit. ) you come here often?

( there's the journey out of new amsterdam. the trip to make their way into the safehouse, the mess in between. a bunch of stupid important crap that he can't really say no to but he does follow along with.

the safehouse feels comfortable; familiar. a nice little hovel full of beds and miscellaneous bullcrap laying around. except it's also an enclosed space with no way out and nothing he can do on the outside which is another all too familiar concept to him. the tech isn't new. the lack of an ability to do shit without it isn't new.

so aidan can be found in one of three places:

fucking with a bunch of spare parts he found in various places (/broke other things for) by ripping them even further apart and trying to piece them together into something else.

with the alcohol, because that's a good step two when step one doesn't work in his favor.

and then digging into medical equipment, sifting through various bags of whatever painkillers he can find laying around, while starting a pile with pliers and other basic first and shit. )

( hit me up with whatever, or contact me at sharkly for something more specific. )