iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

"Do you collect more than just the pigeons? Or is there, like. Anything that you, uh. Haven't found yet that you're really looking for?" He sounds politely curious, if not authentically curious. He is Trying His Best. He sits down. Near enough to hold conversation but not so close that he

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ooc. where oh where did zirconiade happen....

"Didn't order it that way. They fucked it up. Yours now." Leaning back in the seat. Casually.

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ooc. I did sad solo on Biggs the other day. What if sad solo on Reno today?

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"Sure, yeah. Up and over, let's go." Reno darts through the alley, grabbing the lowest rung of a ladder that hangs down from the building nearby. With an unnatural speed, he climbs up the ladder, onto the roof, which gives him a vantage point on what's going on around them. "Quick question --

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laying casually on the couch in Rufus's office.

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"Nah, you just like me too much." sliding into a seat across from her and setting a cup of coffee down in front of her. "Take this. It's too sweet."

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snorting from somewhere behind her.

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ooc. pspsps i want to write with more of u

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"What the fuck?" Reno takes a second -- maybe less, half a second, maybe -- to assess the scene. He'd been told that this was a quick job. That this wouldn't be a challenge, especially for seasoned Turks, so he hadn't been entirely on guard. On guard, sure, he always is, but not like he'd been

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"Is that a compliment? Because I don't need it." Taking the shot.

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Okay. This, somehow, is not the strangest experience Reno has had involving Amos, so he's pretty content with this. He eyes each of the pictures with a slightly raised eyebrow, head tilting. "Huh. So you're . . . pretty into studying pigeons, then. You ever considered having them as pets, or. . ."

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ooc. I will be here when I'm not workinggggg

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[ Awake. Alive. Clocked into work. But at what cost. ]

"Wasn't just the job. Hell, if not for Mr. President, I don't think I'd be doing this job at all anymore."

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"You don't gotta tell me I lost my temper. I already know."

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sure — no reading into anything here.

he is nursing a whiskey that he does not seem terribly interested in drinking. quietly.

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it's just a bar. He spends a lot of time in those.

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ooc. My longer reply and DM reply will come tomorrow. Took my sleepy pills.

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[ And he's out. Maybe home, maybe somewhere else. ]

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Yeah, she is. Alright. I'll be in early tomorrow. C'ya.

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. . . Yeah. I'll work on that. You think she's okay out there? Wherever she ended up?

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"You take pictures of pigeons?" He's not particularly interested, but he does move closer to look. Better than whatever meeting he should be in.

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[ Pausing in the doorway with a heavy sigh. ] Sorry, boss. He brought her up and . . . She wasn't all we lost that day. Doesn't usually get under my skin like that.

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You need me around, or am I good to get the fuck out of here tonight?

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We'd all be fucking dead if Rufus hadn't— It doesn't fucking matter, mutt. She left. She chose. I didn't make her make that choice. Better alive somewhere else than dead.

You're lucky she got to leave! Compromised Turks usually get dead.

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And that's my fuckin fault? She made her choice, and that choice was you. But she was too goddamn compromised. She had to leave.

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I don't fuckin' know. He's acting like it's my fault she's not here.

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[Stopping. Because the boss is calling. Dammit. ] Dog blames me for his girlfriend dumping his ass. I'm not dealing with the bullshit, man.

[ He is long out the front door. ]

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