Log: Haven Located

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Who: Agent Florida (native), Agent Louisiana (native)
What: Discussion accompanied by muffins.
Where: Grand Cytherean, Uptown Gulch
When: Saturday 4/25
Warnings: None for now


Louisiana laid back in the lounge chair, listening to the man made waterfall. Her helmet nearby out of habit rather than necessity. It was nice to be able to comfortably enjoy the sun rays coming in and be surrounded by flora. She however kept half of her attention to the door inside. Hopefully Florida would chose that conviential route rather than appearing out of the trees. He had a knack for randomly appearing despite having given a warning.

Comments

[the_informant]

It's rude, Florida decides, to go about this the way he wants. At least, it's rude when he's trying to achieve something here. Something he doesn't know how to do. So he comes in through the front entrance, a container of muffins with him.

He rides the elevator up and goes down the proper hall to her room and knocks lightly on her door. Breaking in would be rude.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

She sighs and heads back into the room. Sidestepping the duffel and guns in the hall, Louisiana unlocks the door and tugs it open. She leans against the frame but moves enough to let the mercenary inside.

"Bonjour. I have to say I'm surprised you didn't take the more dramatic route," she says. "Especially with the apparent importance of these muffins."

[the_informant]

"The talk is more important than the muffins," Florida answers, holding them out as a peace offering as he enters the room. He should totally take a week off to a place like this.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"That's what I figured." She accepts the container. Heading back into the living room portion of the room, she clears off a chair of her gear. "Sorry for the mess. I've been more focused on relaxing than gear management."

[the_informant]

"I can tell," he agrees, following her in. "Control sets you up well, I see. You know... there are some mercenaries that don't like Control. Having them addressed as an employer on your messaging is dangerous."

And he's always cared about this.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

She shrugs, taking a seat on the arm of the couch. "They try to keep me around with benefits. So far I have nothing to complain of yet. Everyone has enemies in some kind of fashion. I had that messaging set up since I first took their contract. If you're concerned over that, I could change it. Didn't expect to discuss my employer though."

[the_informant]

"What did you expect to discuss?" he asks. His reason for being here isn't one he's comfortable with. How is he supposed to address what he's learned?

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"I don't know. I half expected you trying to stop me from leaving," she answers. Louisiana looks down at the container in her hands. "Though that's probably not it."

[the_informant]

"I doubt there is anything I can do to make you stay," Florida admits. "You're a grown woman who is more than capable of making her own decisions."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Alright. Then why are you here," she counters.

Louisiana gets up and wanders toward the balcony. She turns back to give him a small smile. "Granted I do appreciate you making the effort to be here."

[the_informant]

Now that is what a soothing smile is supposed to look like, and Florida can't help but smile back.

"We both understand that we need to talk about what happened, right?"

[spectre_de_la_mort]

She nods and returns to the couch. The muffins are placed on the coffe table as she seats herself. It would be rude of her to focus elsewhere. He had made an effort after all.

"I'll assume you mean what happened at the safe house. Then by all means, let's talk."

[the_informant]

Florida nods and moves to sit on the floor, the coffee table between them.

"I... I admit I don't quite understand any of what happened."

Admitting something like that hurts him. He tries so hard to understand people. Or to make it seem like he does. "Are... you looking for a replacement for him? That seems unfair to his memory."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Florida not understanding something? That was certainly a first. Though she couldn't blame him with what it had been over. It was confusing sometimes even to her.

"That's fine. I don't know if it's really replacing. Replacement is more of what my step father attempted to be and failed. Replacing sounds like I'm forgetting about him. Which I'm not."

[the_informant]

"It would be wrong of you to try. I think," Florida muses, but he nods in agreement. "What... does all this mean? Why me? I've let you down so many times since you came to Adaptive."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

She leans back into the couch. "Yea, it would. I guess I blame being tired of carrying that void in my life. The attachment mostly created itself when I was a recruit. Things clicked then I suppose. Despite the few times you have actually failed, you managed to fix a lot of damage. I can rely on you. Managed to make this place more home than hostile."

"I don't know if that makes sense," she says.

[the_informant]

"I suppose it would to another person," he agrees. "I don't... really develop 'home' attachments to places."

He tries not to develop attachments to people either. Clearly he is getting soft in his age. "Why me?"

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Home is a difficult word. I probably should've said bearable or livable," she replies. Emerald Cove was still considered her home. Adaptive has grown on her though.

"I guess reminders of him would be my best answer to that."

[the_informant]

"I've never..." Florida sighs. "I'm not used to people, Lou. I help when it benefits me. When I feel that my life would be better for supporting someone. I'm not what you'd call... reliable."

Or affectionate.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"I would beg to differ on that. If what you say is true, then supporting me throughout the time we've known each other has benefited you. You've always worried over me. I know you kept tabs on me."

She laughs softly. "I remember how you freaked out about my first target. The guy who smashed my visor apart. Mon dieu, the lecture I got."

[the_informant]

"You should have had a better helmet," he agrees, sighing at the memory. "I don't trust Control, Lou. I don't like monsters that can hide so well. I can't even seem to figure out where they're based. Mysteries that I can't unravel are..."

Troubling. Frustrating. Dangerous. Deadly.

"Concerning. I wish you'd come back to stay."

[spectre_de_la_mort]

"Well I was a recruit. Kind of limited options."

She looks away. Her employer was definitely a mystery. She hadn't even met them in person yet. However they were a good client compared to others she had in the past.

"I thought we were talking about us and not them. Besides I don't trust clients. I know better. Besides stay where? At the base? Go back to a place I left for a reason?"

[the_informant]

"I just worry when you're off on your own."

There's an honesty to the admission, a rawness to it that has Florida looking away nervously. Dammit the girl is important to him and when she disappears off to wherever Control takes her, he respects her privacy. He hasn't gone looking for her yet. Even if there was a part of him that is tempted to take up root and just follow her.

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Louisiana takes note of his posture, surprised. Florida was not supposed to be nervous. At least she never would have thought him to be. She sighs softly.

"I'll admit it's been nice the past couple of days. Minus the injury and bounty of course. ...I've been wanting to come back here for a while."

A reassuring smile is offered. "I missed you, crétin."

[the_informant]

"What changes now?" Florida asks quietly, looking up at her. "With you going. Will you come back? What am I supposed to do now that I know this?"