and what's that, pray tell? a fucking sentient weapons depot? a one-man militia?
( it's a sentiment he'd normally mock just because it's an easy target, but it applies to felix as much as it applies to sharkface, to locus, even the freelancers. no one made it out of the great war unscathed. the rest of the galaxy moved on, laid down their weapons like peace was always on the table. everyone else who'd seen shit or been through shit kept their finger on the trigger just in case. )
you manage to get me in the spine i'll finish myself off for you i need my legs intact
( he's already started scouting the down. different vantage points, areas of opportunity or possible ambush, places he could be flanked if caught unawares, his line of sight from point a to point z and everything between, who can see him from where and how far they can see him, blind spots, entrenched corners that would serve as decent cover in a pinch, back-up exits, anything that could be turned into a makeshift manhole, chokepoints.
his early morning routine, straight after groggily staggering out of bed and brushing his teeth, spitting the taste of liquor from his mouth. unfortunately sharkface has been here longer and knows the terrain far more intimately. all felix can do is attempt to make up for lost time. )
no subject
( it's a sentiment he'd normally mock just because it's an easy target, but it applies to felix as much as it applies to sharkface, to locus, even the freelancers. no one made it out of the great war unscathed. the rest of the galaxy moved on, laid down their weapons like peace was always on the table. everyone else who'd seen shit or been through shit kept their finger on the trigger just in case. )
you manage to get me in the spine i'll finish myself off for you
i need my legs intact
( he's already started scouting the down. different vantage points, areas of opportunity or possible ambush, places he could be flanked if caught unawares, his line of sight from point a to point z and everything between, who can see him from where and how far they can see him, blind spots, entrenched corners that would serve as decent cover in a pinch, back-up exits, anything that could be turned into a makeshift manhole, chokepoints.
his early morning routine, straight after groggily staggering out of bed and brushing his teeth, spitting the taste of liquor from his mouth. unfortunately sharkface has been here longer and knows the terrain far more intimately. all felix can do is attempt to make up for lost time. )