Tucker, still panting, looked at Locus, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the inevitable attack that he assumed was always coming from a guy like that. The Sim Trooper was tense, shoulders tight and strong, his hand gripping the sword a little tighter, before he reached out and kicked Felix’s dumb stupid Felixy leg, never looking away from the monster.
“That’s for Church, asshole,” he said to the eviscerated corpse.
York caught his attention, and he slowly tore his gaze from Locus to the Freelancer. The praise made him smile; when was the last time one of them actually said something like that to him? Exactly. “Damn right I am,” he tossed back, as if that covered up the glowing gratitude from a comment like that. He could have said the returned it in kind, but what Freelancer didn’t already know they fucking awesome?
None. That’s how many.
“No, man. I’ve been a little too busy to look.” Fighting fighting fighting. He started to walk away, to scout, to see if he could find another one without touching too much of anything. Ew.
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“That’s for Church, asshole,” he said to the eviscerated corpse.
York caught his attention, and he slowly tore his gaze from Locus to the Freelancer. The praise made him smile; when was the last time one of them actually said something like that to him? Exactly. “Damn right I am,” he tossed back, as if that covered up the glowing gratitude from a comment like that. He could have said the returned it in kind, but what Freelancer didn’t already know they fucking awesome?
None. That’s how many.
“No, man. I’ve been a little too busy to look.” Fighting fighting fighting. He started to walk away, to scout, to see if he could find another one without touching too much of anything. Ew.