lifeaftr | home sweet home? (closed)

[The resident tigerlily is having a ball with all these NEW PEOPLE that she's never met. C.T. had some time to train her as something of a therapy animal before she left, which means that the more distressed someone's going to get, the more Ami is going to plaintively nudge and cajole for you to give her some attention and lower your blood pressure.]

[Wash, for his part, spends most of his time doing just that, periodically stroking her back with a compulsive murmur of "shh, shh, it's all right, girl" to indicate that he's got nerves like no one else. His helmet is off but the rest of his armor is yet to be dismantled in full; as if by keeping part of that shell in place, it might shield him for whatever comes next.]

[It's doubtful it will.]

[ Like Wash, Maine has decided to keep his armor on. Not an unusual thing for him, especially in an unknown environment. But he's chosen to follow Wash's lead in removing his helmet. Figures that the sooner they get used to each other's changed faces, the better.

When it comes to Ami, however, they're on opposite ends of the spectrum. Ami doesn't appear to be asking for Maine's attention at all. Certainly not in the way she keeps demanding it of Wash. After the initial shock of his arrival, the big Freelancer settled right back into his usual untroubled demeanor. He seems willing to roll with whatever comes next — provided nothing pisses him off, of course.

Maine still isn't sure what to make of the tigerlily, but it's plain to see that Wash cares for her. So Maine watches as his friend appears to try and soothe the creature. Wonders what it is that's bothering her so much. ]

She okay?

[Ami is an affectionate creature, if nothing else - routinely butting her head up against people's hands and legs. Wash's anxiety is a beacon, radiating all matter of stress and uncertainty that poor Ami can't seem to smooth away. That doesn't mean she's not about to try.]

[There's an automatic tensing when he looks up, even when he immediately forces his shoulders to relax down again. It's easily excused as residual tension, isn't it - and not the remnants of a survival instinct that turned his best friend into a genuine threat.]

She's...she was C.T.'s. She was sort of training her to be a therapy animal. When people are upset, she can tell.

[ Easily excused as tension, and not something at which Maine intends to pry. It's a change, sure. More like the way that strangers respond to Maine if they don't outright gape at him in awe or fear. But lots of things have changed — what's one more?

Adaptability is an admirable trait. Maine intends to adapt.

Maine hums at that explanation. Understands that Wash is upset, but isn't quite sure how to address it. Emotional conversations aren't Maine's forte; he'd much rather take action and eliminate the problem.

After a moment spent clearly considering, Maine comes to a decision: ]

Workout routine?

[ Exercise solves everything, Wash. ]

[That gets a laugh, albeit a quiet one. Wash ducks his head, does nothing to hide the smirk that right-angles the corner of his mouth.]

You know, since I got here, I've patrolled the perimeter of these islets every single day. It didn't do a goddamn thing, but it made me feel better.

[wash thats not really patrolling thats the ptsd]

Maybe I should ask for...I don't know, weights or something. [...god how much would that cost. For weights that Maine could use, no less. The man looks like he could deadlift a warthog. He almost did deadlift a warthog, at Longshore.]

[ Hey, that sounds like a perfectly valid daily routine to Maine. It's something that he may well ask if he can join Wash in doing. (You can take the space marines to a magical land, but you can't undo years and years and years of conditioning.) But right now, there's a bigger issue to address.

Maine squints slightly at his friend, trying to figure out if he heard that right. ]

Not lifting?

[ GOTTA LIFT, BRO!! ]

Lifting what? I did a lot of lifting of...house parts, the other day.

[Yeah, that counts. That's absolutely and exactly what lifting can and should entail.]

It's not like we've got a gym on the island. [Although...] Maybe we should have one. It'd give people something to do.

Rocks. Trees. People.

[ Maine is only half-joking about that last one. Desperate times call for desperate measures, Wash. If Maine has to recruit people to lift, so help him, he will fucking do it.

At the mention of 'no gym,' Maine looks distinctly displeased. He can adjust his workouts to compensate, but he prefers to utilize equipment. Too much focus on bodyweight exercises, and he'll start slimming down. After so much time spent building raw power, he doesn't want that.

So as soon as Wash mentions the possibility of having one, Maine nods firmly. Gestures between the two of them and declares: ]

Make one.

[ How? Doesn't matter. They can do it. ]

[He's pretty sure Maine could lift Wash no problem, but being used for weight training isn't his idea of a good time, exactly. Yeah, better to figure something else out.]

Yeah? Guess we could build one. You have any experience in building things?

[Building would, by definition, require lifting.]

[So that's something to keep in mind.]

[ Maine makes a face and answers that with a little "so-so" gesture. He's better versed in destroying than creating, but he's not entirely useless on the building front. He's been deployed more times than he cares to count; he's had to improvise shelter, weapons, and all kinds of other things.

Lack of formal training or no, Maine thinks this is a Fucking Wonderful idea. Which Wash may be able to see in the way his eyes have lit up. ]

Improvise.

[ That's said with a half-smile of his own. He remembers Wash's complaint when Carolina declared they'd 'improvise' a way to get the Sarcophagus to the roof. ]

Very fucking funny, jackass. [But he can't fully suppress the right-hooked grin that cuts into the side of his cheek when he says it, shaking his head with a snort.]

Place like this, all you can ever do is improvise. [And he literally hates it!]

Though speaking of which, I'm going to get you some actual goddamn civvies. You and Tex both. Something that'll fit you, 'cause I don't think anything of mine is made for size... [Size extra large? Extra extra large?] ...size "impossible."

[ Looking pleased with himself, Maine huffs out a laugh. Granted, he hadn't enjoyed being kicked off a fucking building, but hey. He'll take the opportunity to tease his friend.

That amusement threatens to fade when Wash brings up "civvies." Maine's not comfortable in this environment; he'd much prefer to stay securely inside titanium alloy. But it returns when Wash attempts to guess his clothing size. ]

Not "impossible." [ A pause. ] "Custom."

[ Because that's so much different, Maine. ]

Custom. Yeah. Is that what you tell all the retailers?

[As if he has any idea if Maine ever went shopping. Histories remain undisclosed for a reason, though he knows for certain that not every Freelancer followed those directives, considering that the Dakotas knew each others' probably as well as they did their own. Wash, for his part, only ever knew as much about his teammates as they allowed him.]

[It's not like Maine was ever chatty enough to talk about where he came from. How he ended up here.]

[And Wash, obedient little soldier per the Project's wishes, didn't ask.]

Full armor's usually safer, but there's no armor processing here, so it's good to have a backup plan.

agent washington + bonus amitusha

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