[ He knows better. Or he should. Things settle as much as they’re going to for a while. He paints, he comes back to the center. Leaves his phone where he threw it until he finally runs out of yellow acrylic and has to come back down off the roof. And then, of course - of fucking course - Felix has to have the last word.
Ephemera stares at his phone for a long time, twitching with rage he’s got no outlet for.
No good one, anyway. He exhales through his teeth and then he does something potentially very stupid, and tears one of the sketches out of the pad. Folds it up and tucks it away inside his jacket pocket, and then he heads out to the Down. And then he goes over to Felix’s shitty building and shoves the damn thing under the door. ]
get. fucked
[ It’s one of his older sketches, drawn long before Felix ever showed up in Duplicity. A memory, something he spent the time to detail. It shows Felix and Locus standing shoulder to shoulder, Locus straight backed and serious, Felix’s stance deceptively loose. Both of them in full armor, surveying field reports. He hasn’t cared about them when he was Sharkface but he saw enough. He’s observant when it counts. And it wasn’t hard to clock the way they moved around each other. Training and time will go a long way, but that sort of unit cohesion comes from trust. And even then, even at his craziest, Ephemera had recognized it. His team had been like that.
Unbreakable, until suddenly they weren’t. Until suddenly he was alone. The Felix in the drawing is different from the one he keeps colliding with. That one had a partner.
The drawing is done in ink. Intricately detailed. And unsigned. ]
no subject
Ephemera stares at his phone for a long time, twitching with rage he’s got no outlet for.
No good one, anyway. He exhales through his teeth and then he does something potentially very stupid, and tears one of the sketches out of the pad. Folds it up and tucks it away inside his jacket pocket, and then he heads out to the Down. And then he goes over to Felix’s shitty building and shoves the damn thing under the door. ]
get. fucked
[ It’s one of his older sketches, drawn long before Felix ever showed up in Duplicity. A memory, something he spent the time to detail. It shows Felix and Locus standing shoulder to shoulder, Locus straight backed and serious, Felix’s stance deceptively loose. Both of them in full armor, surveying field reports. He hasn’t cared about them when he was Sharkface but he saw enough. He’s observant when it counts. And it wasn’t hard to clock the way they moved around each other. Training and time will go a long way, but that sort of unit cohesion comes from trust. And even then, even at his craziest, Ephemera had recognized it. His team had been like that.
Unbreakable, until suddenly they weren’t. Until suddenly he was alone. The Felix in the drawing is different from the one he keeps colliding with. That one had a partner.
The drawing is done in ink. Intricately detailed. And unsigned. ]