[He doesn't get his hopes up, when a name disappears from the network. Just because he expects to be the one to leave doesn't mean it's always going to work out that way. Everything here is temporary, right?
And memory always counts for a lot.
But when he gets the text and sees who it's from, he's grinning right away. It's a relief, and more than that, makes him feel a little more at home again.]
[ Sal reads the message and realizes she's been holding all of the tension in her shoulders, waiting, worrying, readying herself for the dread and possibility of being forgotten. She sits back in her chair and releases a tense breath. ]
I could use a drink.
[ There's not enough ways in which she can convey her relief. So she maneuvers around platitudes that make them both squirm, hoping to bridge the gap in a way they both are used to. Shit, she just needs to see him for herself and make sure that things are still okay. A few weeks away, but the world hasn't shifted too far underneath their feet. ]
The words are sent off quickly. She knows the place well enough, at least now that she has all of her memories back. A whole life returned to her; a gift that she doesn't want to be rid of.
She doesn't waste too much time in preparation, leaving her sword at her apartment, for once, but remembering to take the Cacophony. Maybe her gun isn't as pleased to be back here, but then, since when is he pleased at anything that's not bleeding or on fire? The gun is a familiar presence underneath her jacket, a low-seething warmth that she's used to carrying along; flying over the city and toward the bar, Sal takes a breath of cold air and lets herself grow familiar with this place again.
She lands herself on the sidewalk a short time later and quickly begins looking around for Nicholas' familiar face. Her expression is the same as it usually is; a slight frown to fend off unwanted attention. It doesn't give away, in other words, that small amount of anxiety she's feeling.
"Hey," she says, picking him out of the small crowd amassed in front of the bar. "It's been a little while." A few weeks gone from here, but a few months for her. Enough time for her to miss, well, everything and to know how easily it can all slip from her fingers.
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timeasmymeasure
text;
Date: 2020-09-10 01:02 pm (UTC)And memory always counts for a lot.
But when he gets the text and sees who it's from, he's grinning right away. It's a relief, and more than that, makes him feel a little more at home again.]
Not yet.
no subject
Date: 2020-09-14 01:30 am (UTC)I could use a drink.
[ There's not enough ways in which she can convey her relief. So she maneuvers around platitudes that make them both squirm, hoping to bridge the gap in a way they both are used to. Shit, she just needs to see him for herself and make sure that things are still okay. A few weeks away, but the world hasn't shifted too far underneath their feet. ]
no subject
Date: 2020-09-15 09:52 pm (UTC)Funny, so could I.
Got anywhere in mind?
no subject
Date: 2020-09-17 02:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-10-12 03:16 pm (UTC)meet you there?
no subject
Date: 2020-10-13 06:49 pm (UTC)The words are sent off quickly. She knows the place well enough, at least now that she has all of her memories back. A whole life returned to her; a gift that she doesn't want to be rid of.
She doesn't waste too much time in preparation, leaving her sword at her apartment, for once, but remembering to take the Cacophony. Maybe her gun isn't as pleased to be back here, but then, since when is he pleased at anything that's not bleeding or on fire? The gun is a familiar presence underneath her jacket, a low-seething warmth that she's used to carrying along; flying over the city and toward the bar, Sal takes a breath of cold air and lets herself grow familiar with this place again.
She lands herself on the sidewalk a short time later and quickly begins looking around for Nicholas' familiar face. Her expression is the same as it usually is; a slight frown to fend off unwanted attention. It doesn't give away, in other words, that small amount of anxiety she's feeling.
"Hey," she says, picking him out of the small crowd amassed in front of the bar. "It's been a little while." A few weeks gone from here, but a few months for her. Enough time for her to miss, well, everything and to know how easily it can all slip from her fingers.