[ when nic dies, those tags will be the only thing left of him, if at all. it's not an opportunity often given to twilights, but he'd like the chance for the freedom to choose who they get left with. ]
FROM: brown.nicolas@cdc.org
Yeah yeah
[ probably didn't need to respond, let alone they way he did, but there is a restless anxiety building up in him that manifests in petulant texting. maybe it would be wiser to be afraid, but let's be real — the option to be wise has long since passed here...
instead he's an odd mixture of annoyed and apprehensive, translating oddly on his face. with the jar in one hand, he lifts the other to knock on dagger's door. ]
[ Luckily for Nic, Dagger's an honorable liar most of the time; the
tags are in his possession, jangling around his neck when he lets the doors
slide open. ]
[ nic's eyes hone in on those tags, glinting against dagger's chest like some kind of visual slap in the face. nic can feel a foolish anger bubble up inside him, but he manages to stamp it down and keep most of it off his face. he shifts anxiously, fingers tightening around the jar as he lifts it, fitting nicely in his palm. in the now-murky water of the jar sits two perfectly intact eyeballs, irises a rich brown color.
he hadn't looked to see if dagger's lips had moved in a way he'd understand, too focused on the chain hanging around the instructor's neck. ]
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D68, before all the crazy training montages
Got them
Re: D68, before all the crazy training montages
FROM: dagger@cdc.org
Good. Give me.
no subject
You got my dog tags
?
no subject
FROM: dagger@cdc.org
Eyeballs first.
no subject
One first
The other when I get my tags
no subject
FROM: dagger@cdc.org
It's cute that you think you can bargain. I'll crush your tags if you don't hand the eyeballs over.
no subject
FROM: brown.nicolas@cdc.org
Don't touch them
[ nevertheless, nic will be delivering the eyes in a recycled glass jar filled with water to dagger's door within minutes. ]
no subject
[ That was nearly too easy. ]
FROM: dagger@cdc.org
Waiting, now.
no subject
FROM: brown.nicolas@cdc.org
Yeah yeah
[ probably didn't need to respond, let alone they way he did, but there is a restless anxiety building up in him that manifests in petulant texting. maybe it would be wiser to be afraid, but let's be real — the option to be wise has long since passed here...
instead he's an odd mixture of annoyed and apprehensive, translating oddly on his face. with the jar in one hand, he lifts the other to knock on dagger's door. ]
no subject
[ Luckily for Nic, Dagger's an honorable liar most of the time; the tags are in his possession, jangling around his neck when he lets the doors slide open. ]
Yo. Where are my eyeballs.
no subject
he hadn't looked to see if dagger's lips had moved in a way he'd understand, too focused on the chain hanging around the instructor's neck. ]