"Yeah, boss?" It's so innate and instinctual that he doesn't think twice about drawling back a decade old response to a ghost long since laid to rest. Carolina isn't dead (thank god) but whoever she is, however she is? Isn't apparently the woman he'd followed into hell and fucked over with his own stupid assumptions and inability to communicate like a goddamn grownup.
But you hit a nerve right and a muscle will jerk- the tone's off. The word's right, the shape of the sound sits where it should at the back of his neck, warm and curling like Delta's chip when he's smugly pleased by cracking a code- but she's...incredulous.
Afraid?
Surprised- The fact he can't pick out the nuances of her emotions from one word as well as he used to implies a lack of familiarity with the language of Carolina's emotional state. He used to be fluent. That, as much as turning and seeing her standing there, jolts him into stillness. "...uh-"
A month ago he'd written a letter he'd never deliver as part of an exercise. Carolina's had been an apology. A year and change ago he'd been toying with pickuplines before he laid her soul to rest and dragged himself onward with his life. Five years ago he'd grovel. Six and they'd never had that gulf of six feet (six miles) between them on a moving platform, red alert blaring. For once?
He has no words.
Hello, Agent Carolina. Delta, however, does, flaring to life at York's left shoulder, green glow highlighting the diminished scarring on his face, shadowing the new lines and creases by his eyes, mirroring the dull glow of his bionic iris. Himself but older. Leaner. Delta, by contrast, opted for the old mjolnir armor projection. Some grounds of familiarity to...balance an emotionally intense interaction.
So many so little time so intimidate
But you hit a nerve right and a muscle will jerk- the tone's off. The word's right, the shape of the sound sits where it should at the back of his neck, warm and curling like Delta's chip when he's smugly pleased by cracking a code- but she's...incredulous.
Afraid?
Surprised- The fact he can't pick out the nuances of her emotions from one word as well as he used to implies a lack of familiarity with the language of Carolina's emotional state. He used to be fluent. That, as much as turning and seeing her standing there, jolts him into stillness. "...uh-"
A month ago he'd written a letter he'd never deliver as part of an exercise. Carolina's had been an apology. A year and change ago he'd been toying with pickuplines before he laid her soul to rest and dragged himself onward with his life. Five years ago he'd grovel. Six and they'd never had that gulf of six feet (six miles) between them on a moving platform, red alert blaring. For once?
He has no words.
Hello, Agent Carolina. Delta, however, does, flaring to life at York's left shoulder, green glow highlighting the diminished scarring on his face, shadowing the new lines and creases by his eyes, mirroring the dull glow of his bionic iris. Himself but older. Leaner. Delta, by contrast, opted for the old mjolnir armor projection. Some grounds of familiarity to...balance an emotionally intense interaction.