paradisalogs | [closed]

Entry tags:

[closed]

Who: Agent Carolina

youfallback and Agent Maine

brute_shot_bully
What: Chillaxing in the fallout of OH TEH NOES DRAMA
When: Tonight
Where: Maine's room in Carolina's room
Rating: PG-13. Maine.

He wouldn't have heard her enter, wouldn't have expected her at this time, even. Ever since the blowout from Washington's intention to get Maine's armor back to him, he'd been spending most of his waking time just working out.

His room resembled more a military gym then an actual bedroom. Every possible machine to work every possible muscle lined the floor, each one wearing signs of use. Mirrors lined the wall, a stack of free weights by the door. If one looked hard enough they'd find the bed tucked in a corner surrounded by a few stacks of books and dirty magazines (and under the bed, the box of dirty toys from Mistress). Next to the bed was a recent edition, a door to an indoor park for his dog, for the times he was locked in.

Which seemed rather pointless, now.

Maine himself was at the bench, a brace over his right knee, pushing himself to lift ten pounds over his limit. The distraction of taut muscles, the stretch of scar tissue over his various wounds, the heat and burn, was enough to make him forget just how angry he was with everything if just for the moment. His dog, As Yet Unnamed, lounged on the bed. She heard Carolina enter over the grunts of her owner and the creak and clanging of metal. She lifted her head and gave a single, deep, warning bark.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Carolina was spent, truly and utterly spent on every single level. Since Wednesday, she'd been spending every last second of free time doing something. As the night grew later, even she had to recognize the fact that she wouldn't make it until 0400 and their standing appointment, so, with fresh bruises from a tumble on the uneven bars (which had really been the realization that she wasn't doing anything except exhausting herself), she let herself back into her room. Hopefully Maine would understand and that he wouldn't be something else she could add to her list of 'things she fucked up with' this week. Tossing her duffel bag down onto the couch in the living room, she toed off her sneakers and padded back toward his room.

Firmly, she rapped on the thick door. "Maine? I'm letting you out of lockdown early."

She didn't want this to become a habit, but she simply couldn't function anymore. Even just her bones felt heavy and her arm too much too lift to knock again. Honestly, just falling asleep would be preferential right now, but there's still more to be done, more projects to distract her from the overwhelming feeling of defeat that shadowed her every step.

The dog's bark was enough to get Maine to settle the bar back against its rest for a moment and hear Carolina knock. Did he hear that right? He pushed himself up to sitting and grabbing a sports drink. He didn't move for the moment, exhausted in his own right. Yeah, he should have stopped a few repetitions ago. He took a swig of his drink before calling back, still convinced he'd heard wrong.

"Yeah?"

Carolina rubbed her hand over her face for a second as if that would magically remove the dark circles from under her eyes. She paused to wait for his reply before putting in the code to his door a touch slower than normal and pushing the door open. For a moment or two she simply leaned in the doorway, fully expecting to get yelled at for no reason.

"Yeah, you're free to go for the night," she replied, not giving two fucks about the fact it was only approaching 2200.

She straightened and moved out of the doorway, heading back toward the rest of her quarters.

Well shit, she was serious. He watches her a moment, noting the fact that she just doesn't look alert like he's used to.

When she moves away from the door, he pushes up to wander over to lean against it. For a moment he's jsut quiet. It's strange, almost, to be free this early, but any elation was killed by the lingering anger and frustration at the whole situation.

He wasn't really in a mood to go anywhere, now that he thought about it. Part of him wanted to chalk it up to old habits and that he'd feel more restless at 0400, but the reality was he didn't much trust the castle at large at the moment.

"What if I stay in?"

Edited (HTMfaiL) 2012-02-05 03:11 (UTC)

Carolina heard Maine move and thought he'd be heading out the door, but his response surprise her, causing her to turn around where she stood in the short hallway between the living room and his space. Furrowing her eyebrows for a second, she considered the fact that she just didn't care right now. If he wanted to stay in, she wasn't about to force him out the door, especially when she trusted him and did see him as a friend.

"Then stay in." She shifted her weight, her tone confused but not commanding either. "I'm not expecting any guests."

The only person who would possibly visit was probably too busy ~~rubbing aloe on his butthurt ass~~ alienating more friends so yeah that ruled out any chance of visitors.

He crossed his arms and watched her, catching that tone but missing the meaning. Maybe she didn't want him to stay? Maybe she just wanted him gone, too? She and York finally in a position to be with each other and he was fucking it up just by existing.

He bowed his head a moment with a grumble. Fuck York. Yeah, he remembered some of the horrors he'd done, but he'd been nothing but tolerant and still somehow managed to be the cause of all this.

Just by existing.

"Told York --" He stopped. Did he want to tell her? It's not like York even took him up on the offer. "Told York he could kill me. If it'd help."

Carolina shifted at him starting with York's name, curiosity more than anything but her expression changes instantly upon hearing the rest of Maine's statement, eyebrows furrowing and a new anger somehow igniting among the ashes of her emotional state.

"You what?" She didn't really need to confirmation, the words just come out before she can really stop them. Obviously York hadn't taken Maine up on the offer, but still. How could that have possibly made anything better? Having dead teammates would have really just. Fucked everything up even further.

She didn't know if she'd be able to deal with something like that with her current state. Sure, she'd dealt with it before, but the past was a very different story to what had happened so far in the Castle.

Maine doesn't move for a moment. Her anger was a little reassuring, and he took it as a good sign that at least she didn't want him gone.

"Told him to kill me. Offered a free shot." He drops his arms and moves to brush past her, making for the kitchen and a goddamned beer. From inside his room his dog hopped off the bed and with a skittering of nails came out to join him.

"Not much else I can do." Growled, frustrated. It was like getting socked with all the consequences of a fight without any of the satisfaction of having actually been in it.

Edited (HTMfaiL and added stuff B)) 2012-02-05 22:12 (UTC)

Carolina barely shifted when Maine passed her by, her shoulders stiffening further at his explanation. What the hell was wrong with her team that they felt the need to offer death to each other? Where the hell had they even gotten the idea and, more importantly to her, when had she led them to believe that that was okay? Turning slowly, she faced the kitchen, her eyebrows furrowed and raw anger written across her exhausted face.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She all but shouted at him. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

There really were no words to fully express just how incredibly pissed off she was at her entire team right now. Wash was likely drowning himself in alcohol, York in self-pity, and Maine? She'd never been this ashamed to be a part of this team. Were they all suddenly a bunch of immature teenagers again trying to outdick the others?

"How would that have solved anything." Not a question, a demand.

Maine let Carolina's anger hit his back and roll off as he yanked the fridge open and grabbed a bottle, slamming it closed hard enough that it popped back open, and then slamming it closed again and keeping a hand on it to make sure it stayed closed.

He knew she wasn't going to be happy but he hadn't anticipated this kind of backlash. "I don't know." He roared back.

He finally turned and headed to the couch, appearing casual despite the waves of anger that seemed to emanate from his very being. He didn't want to be angry at her, she was the only one who seemed to give a shit about him lately. Even Washington had closed the journal in his face after upsetting his life and handing him a halfassed apology.

"Just causing problems by existing. Thought it might fix that." He catches her eyes for a moment. He's serious, he's not seeking pity, he's trying to fix things. He just doesn't now how.

At first Carolina just watched him move, her anger broiling behind her recovering facade. She couldn't just let loose on him, but hell if she didn't want to. Her team had been disappointing her so many times this week between all three of them and damn if she wasn't tempted to pack up and find some sanity somewhere else. His anger, though, didn't intimidate her and she didn't back down one bit.

"You aren't causing any problems, Maine," she grunted in reply, trying to tame down the anger burning wildly through her chest. "The Castle has."

She barely paused as she shifted her weight, not moving to sit, but instead remaining where she stood. "Communication is the biggest problem between the three of you."

Maine takes a long drink from his beer before replying. Considering that he had attempted to talk to York and he had only gotten vague and cryptic answers from Washington, he figures he'd done his part in the little 'communication' issue. He wasn't about to waste anymore effort and energy on something that was proving fruitless and likely didn't have any decent advantages for him anymore. York didn't approve of his existance and Wash was probably never going to be sober enough to get him his armor back in the first place.

His dog hops up onto the couch and lays down, effectively taking up a third of it, and resting her paws against his thigh. Though she wasn't making any sounds of ill-content, she did turn to stare intently at Carolina, who she was beginning to consider a competitive alpha bitch keen on her recently acquired owner.

"That's not my fault." Of course, his complete lack of motivation to push through and try to make it work wasn't helping.

Carolina let out a frustrated sigh, really unable to keep it in despite the fact making such a sound would do nothing to alter the situation. Unaware of the dog's intense gaze on her, the Freelancer moved over to the kitchen to retrieve a beer for herself, her movements stiff. She had no idea where to even start resolving the conflict at hand, especially since York had cut himself off entirely from what she'd seen. If he wanted to be an asshole out in the mountains, then he could go right ahead.

Popping off the top of the beer, the Freelancer first considered beside his new pet, but then reconsidered, instead drawing up one of the arm chairs and plopping herself down in it. Just sitting down reminded her of the deep exhaustion that ran through ever bone in her body.

"York said if there was a way to prove that this isn't a loss, then he'd be willing to try," she replied, following it up with a snort. "Don't know if I believe that or not."

The dog seems satisfied with the arrangement and settles her head against Maine's knee, still watching Carolina. Maine snorts himself at Carolina's comment, rubbing a hand over his head. Yeah, sorry for the fight, Boss, ot's not you he's mad at.

"Screw York." It's obvious to Maine there's no point in trying to mend things, not when York was so deadset against it.

Carolina's expression flatlined, her anger dulling out into more of frustration. She'd heard that too many times in the past few days, between all three of them. Screw Maine. Fuck Washington. Screw York. What the hell kind of team talked about each other like that, regardless of their past? When did these grown-ass adults turn into teenagers again.

"I don't want to hear you say that about anyone on the team," she scolded, feeling much more like a mother than the captain of the team. "You can't say that and not expect consequences."

Maine sits back and looks at her, incredulous. As far as he's aware, York's been saying that about him for the past two months without consequences at all.

"What about him? Castle hero. I get one perk, he loses his fucking panties."

If York had been saying these things, Carolina was entirely unaware of them. He'd mentioned from time to time that he thought Maine was dangerous and still a murderer, but never along these lines until much more recently.

"Based on what happened, Maine? No one else gives a shit," Carolina wasn't one to curse openly, but the stronger wording helped prove her point. "He's not the Castle hero. You got 'one perk' with being free for twelve hours a day. He wasn't happy then either."

Part of her, the very annoyed and frustrated part, considered that York likely wouldn't ever be happy with any situation thrown at him. Another part, though, regarded that opinion as relatively unfair.

Maine continues to look at her, then eases back against the couch and goes quiet a moment. Without her, he'd probably still be rotting away in prison. It's enough of a sobering thought that he loses some of his edge.

"Told York I'd apologize. Got no response when I did."

"You apologized?" Carolina blinked for a couple seconds before frowning. "And he didn't say anything?"

Well, that wasn't what she'd expected based on how York had been acting. For Maine to apologize and for York to spit in his face, that changed everything, it really did. For a few moments, she was simply stunned by that news. Maine apologized, Maine was making steps to rectify what had been done, and, for all appearances, York was doing the opposite.

Honestly, she didn't like how that rested against her own opinion of York. It didn't destroy it entirely, but it didn't converge either.

Maine shrugs, setting his feet up on the coffee table and taking a drink. "Didn't expect it to work, anyway. Was a while ago."

But then he grunts with a wry smile. "Abel forgave me. Caterina." He shrugs. Abel had all but openly invited him into their little 'team', why did he even need York?

"Feet down," Carolina spoke almost without realizing she'd said it. Feet do not go on coffee tables, man.

She still thought about the matter at hand, despite what should have been a ready distraction. If Maine's other victims had already started forgiving him, then what was holding York back, really? Was it really the fact that Maine had hunted him more fervently? Or was it something else? She was understanding Maine's anger even better and York's less.

"I don't know what's going on with York," she finally spoke again, popping the cap off her beer. Honestly, she'd never thought she'd be saying something like that. He'd been a constant for so long, both back at Freelancer and here; he'd been a sure thing, unwavering, someone she could always trust.

Maine hesitates, but sets his feet down with a grumble. He picks at the label on his beer for a moment, and then glances over at her. He'd forgotten how new this must be for her, that even though he'd been set back and forgotten enough to put him closer at her time, he still had a year and a half of dealing with castle life (such as it was, with the holes). Maybe dealing with them like this was harder, but on the other hand, maybe that bit of separation gave her some clarity that they lacked from being too entrenched in the situation.

"What do I do, Boss?"

That was one question Carolina wasn't ready for and she felt its weight on her shoulders the moment it was spoken out loud. She'd been wondering the same herself for several days now, but not allowing it to distract her. Things like that weren't the immediate, the danger present. Instead, she'd worked on maps, trained for extra hours every day, slept less, and altogether thrown herself whole-heartedly into her work.

All because she didn't know what the next step was. In missions, the course of action was clear and if mistakes were made, then back-up plans were readily available. Here? The Castle threw the impossible in her face, ripped apart her team, and a pressure onto her that only tightened over time. Sure, there were brief opportunities to loosen that pressure, but moments like this felt too tight, too much. Her grip tightened on her bottle of beer, skin stretching across her knuckles.

"I don't know," she replied.

She wished she had a better answer than that or that she could somehow know all the answers now-- not later, not off in some far off time--, but she didn't.

Edited (how does English) 2012-02-12 03:13 (UTC)

He nods, quietly noticing her grip on her beer bottle, and suddenly just wanted to tread lightly. She had been his greatest champion here, so far, besides Washington. There weren't any answers and there weren't any easy questions, and for a moment he missed the sheer simplicity of existing under the shadow of the ranking board.

He rubs his hand over his head for a moment, then knocks back the rest of his beer and stands to go get another. His dog watches, ears perked, sitting up when he moves out of view and trying to keep her eyes on him with a slight whine.

Carolina would be lying if she said she didn't miss that seeming simplicity of that ranking board and the Project in general. There she could find order, there she had a distinct niche carved out for herself from years of blood, sweat, and tears. Here in the Castle, she could not even be entirely sure of if she would be a human or a toy the next day, or if her team might suddenly vanish, leaving her here alone.

When Maine got to his feet, she realized her intense grip on her bottle and slowly began to release it, knuckles no longer so vividly outlined. As a distraction, though, she shifted in her seat and took a long swig of her beer. Damn if she didn't miss home so much right now.

He sets the empty bottle on the counter and opens the fridge, and then pauses a moment before grabbing three bottles with one hand and two with the other and kicking the door closed with his foot. He knew two wasn't going tobe the end of it and he didn''t want to get back up.

He glanced over at Carolina. This really was a shitty situation all around, but hopefully she knew he'd follow her whatever she decided needed to be done.

Carolina glanced up from her bottle when she felt Maine's gaze on her, even more humiliated by the fact that she still didn't have a proper answer. She was supposed to be their leader, unflinching in the face of the unknown and ready to do anything for her team. That was made difficult, though, when she didn't know what that 'anything' was supposed to be.

"Don't give up," she finally supplied, her voice firm, "I'll figure something out, but for now, don't throw in the towel."

He grumbles an affirmative. Truth be told he was damn near just that, between York and Wash, but knowing Carolina was on his side was reason enough to continue to give a shit. He sat back down on the couch and set his beers on the table, taking one and popping the top.

He raised it in a toast. "To you." Because hell if he'd know what to do in this situation without her.

If she knew Maine considered there were sides in all this, she'd likely just head off to bed. She's so sick and tired of hearing York talk about sides and not seeing their team as a collaborative unit. Sure, there were arguments and a huge number of issues going on right now, but that didn't mean there were sides and that she had to be on either one or the other. Honestly, trying to support her team as a whole was getting more and more difficult.

Quickly, she finished off her first beer and opened a second, shaking her head at that toast. It's not out of self-hatred or self-doubt that she didn't want to be toasted, it was the idea that even while she felt she was being the most sensible at the moment, the Castle had told her that being the 'most sensible' or 'the best' didn't matter here.

"Don't," her words were simple enough, laced with the exhaustion that crept further in.

It had always been about sides. Freelancers vs. Insurrectionists, Maine, Wyoming and York vs. Tex, it was a matter of habit to divide things cleanly into who you were fighting and who you were fighting with. York had made it clear to Maine what those side were.

Carolina's comment confused him, and he lowered his beer with a furrowed brow. He would have thought she'd appreciate the recognition.

Carolina shifted her weight in her seat, deciding that her bottle was more interesting at the moment. She did appreciate the sentiment and the fact he appreciated her work, but right now a toast just felt wrong.

"Thanks for getting more beer," she replied, finally glancing back over at him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject