Log; Return to the Fold

[spectre_de_la_mort]

Who: Louisiana (Original), Sigma Ai (Native)
What: Remember that delayed reunion? Well...definitely happening.
Where: Sigma's Apartment
When: Friday 11/13 (Backdated)
Warnings: Fluff. Fluff everywhere. Being idiots.


She knew that this was necessary. With the way things had ended in Armonia after the rescue, this was owed to Sigma the most out of anyone to be quite honest. He deserved better. Much like Maine deserved so much better than getting dumped by that loser. ...going to have to tell Sigma that she punched Delta and hope that he wasn't going to freak out over it.

At least the glasses were handled. Definitely too far on that part. Still Florida had wanted to prove a point as well which he did besides from bouncing around like a kid in a candy store while recording the incident. Definitely leave that fact out in the retelling. Most definitely leave it out.

Louisiana has a frequent track on her playlist playing in her helmet audio at the moment as she wanders along the halls of the apartment complex. She was stalling. This was such a coin toss of what kind of emotions she was going to receive from Sigma. Let alone she needed to figure what to say. So for now she sticks to walking slow and listening to the comforting tune.

Comments

[ambitious_muse]

Sigma is home alone. He hasn't heard from York today, which is odd and frankly a little worrying. Especially with how Delta acted on Wednesday. York will be okay, he knows, but after what happened in Armonia, he can't help being concerned about some things.

For now, he's trying to focus on homework and catching up on readings for his forensics class. Maybe, if York spends the night, the notes won't give him nightmares. He can't focus, though, because someone's listening to music awfully loudly somewhere in the building.

...a song that reminds him of Louisiana. It's something she used to listen to during early morning training. He's sure of it. And now he'll never be able to study because he's thinking of her again. Sighing, he shuts his book and goes to set it on the kitchen counter.

The music gets louder. He realizes then that it's not coming from another apartment at all. It's coming from her old helmet. Why would it be doing that? Sigma takes it off of the charger and slips it on. There's no message, just a suddenly-active playlist. The music reverberates softly in his ears now; he takes a second to turn it off. There. Now maybe he can focus.