[It's easy for Ava to slip into the Residential building in the middle of the night. She hasn't really been back since she was staying here herself, and that had ended in fire and ashes. She doesn't know quite what she's doing here, except that she needs answers and actually talking to him seems to just end in verbal games she can't quite spin to her favor.
So she's here, because that's something she knows how to do. Creeping around in the dead of night is very much where her talents lie. She doesn't quite know if he'll have anything useful, but maybe there's something physical, tactile.
She's slipping through the kitchen, when there's a sound from the hallway, and she slips silent into shadows of the corner of the room, behind the table. She's very good, trained well and then sharpened; just another silent shadow in the dim light.]
[The postal service needed some serious intervention, what with a file crossing his desk at the Prometheus Labs that had no place actually being there. He had figured out quickly that it had come due to references to laboratory experiences when he flipped through briskly. It wasn't until he saw many references to a name he had encountered more than once since his stay had begun that he realized that this file would be coming to his own personal living area until he could analyze the contents.
As was his usual routine, he enjoyed the quiet of the night hours and each time just after midnight, he gathered up a few choice reading materials, slipped into a pair of slippers and wandered his way down to the communal kitchen. It was always relatively well-stocked, but the state of the place was for anyone's guess as some residents clearly hadn't been taught how to clean up after themselves.
Still, pushing open the door, he wandered in to a darkened kitchen and flipped on the light. It was in relatively good state of affairs tonight, and he padded to one of a few refrigerators to root around for some milk, his staple. He set the file on the counter as he grabbed a glass and filled it half full.
Then he leaned over the file and flipped it open, shuffling through the thick assortment of papers. Slowly his eyes rose from it and his eyebrows drew together. That wasn't right.]
[The light brightens and the shadows don't disappear but it does steal most of them away, leaving her watching him from the corner, still mostly in shadows, save for a few stray bars of light. She considers slipping out the door, but there are interesting angles here -- she'd expected it to be one of his roommates, but no, it was her target.
She's good at slipping away in plain sight, at knowing how peoples' eyes move and being where they don't focus. But, well. She's hardly the only person with that particular skillset that Pierce has dealt with. She watches him as he gets the milk from the fridge, doesn't look at her. He has a file, and that sparks her interest. Could just be something with his job, but, it could be something else. Her gaze isn't particularly heavy, but it is there, as she slinks in the shadows at the edges.
She shifts slightly, still silent as she watches him. She doesn't give herself away, but she doesn't run, either. Waits to see if he'll notice her. This is cutting away the almost-civil conversations she keeps running from, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe the answers come once she cuts away the pretense.]
[Lights on certainly never actually equals seeing everything that might be hidden. He had seen far too many agents able to disappear from plain sight, using objects to their advantage to draw the eye to miss the details of disappearing. He was also rather used to certain elements simply coming to exist in his proximity to receive orders, though he normally was the one to call in the scene in question. Not always, but often enough that he wasn't always surprised when they appeared.
He might not be able to pick out when someone was hiding, but he had enough awareness of his surroundings to understand when there was a distinct possibility that he wasn't alone. His eyes flicked around to each of the shadows that were still present in the room, trying to pick out details but unable. He had only a small handful of people that knew of him that may choose to hide, or perhaps his arrival had simply startled someone he hadn't even met into hiding.
Either way, he slowly returned to his glass of milk and flipped into the file. He scanned through a few pages, picking out key words and key names first, pondering that information as he came to rest a hand on his cheek and went into a sort of quick deep thought, bringing together the pieces that he knew but hadn't had time to invest much time into.]
Ivan, you scoundrel... [He shook his head as he remembered distinctly the technology surrounding OPUS when it came to SHIELD. The success had been proven, but its uses had not bee fully explored.]
[She'd intended to just watch, to trace around the edges of what he could follow and see if she could figure out what he was looking at, maybe steal it if he was too sloppy. But there's that name-- common a Russian name as you could get, but Ivan would always mean one man to her, and it was enough to tug her in small steps so she wasn't as clearly hidden, standing on that border between light and shadow, the chaiscuro pattern of bars of muted shadow from the streetlights that shined through the blinds falling against her sillhouette as she watched him. She's not dressed in her SHIELD uniform or overt spy gear, but she does wear dark, muted tones,
Silence was easier, better, but that name was a soft spot, when she was only too aware of just what it could mean. The answer to the question she'd been trying to pull from conversations that were too polite. How much did he know? Was he like the people who didn't remember her? Or did words like OPUS project actually mean something to him? She wasn't sure that the feeling of not being quite so alone was worth it. What it would mean.]
Who's Ivan?
[As if she doesn't know, as if the meaning of it doesn't hum in her fingertips. A low murmur, like it's a continuation of a conversation and not a whisper in the dark. Her eyes are bright blue, but flat and quiet, intent.]
[Now that she wasn't trying quite so hard to hide from his senses, Pierce became aware of Ava. He didn't lift his eyes from what he was reading, instead continuing to flip through a few more pages, much of it blacked out, but he knew policy well enough to understand that it had everything to do with clearance level. His own had been high enough to literally read everything, and he had enough experience blacking out files to understand what information could potentially be hidden. This was her file, and likely didn't even know it.
Yet, her actually speaking caused his head to rise from what he was reading and drop the pages to lay flat again in the stack that they were. He raised an eyebrow at her, picking her out of the shadows she was half blended in, and he had to wonder if she was here to watch him sleep or if it had been a coincidence that she were no. He didn't believe that spies made much of coincidences unfortunately.
He gestured to the fridge behind him.] Would you like some milk? There's plenty cooled. [He pointedly took a sip from his own glass, returning to the file in front of him and again starting to flip through the pages. As if it were far more interesting than her presence.]
Ivan is a rather common Russian name; I'm sure you already know that though. Apparently, the Ivan mentioned here is a rather ingenious fellow. Quite good reading at midnight. Is there something that I can help you with, or are you simply passing through, Miss Orlova?
[She probably would have, had he been sleeping when she'd slipped in. Silently rifled through his things, and debated the risk versus benefit of trying to murder him in his sleep while watching him, but probably eventually decided against it. But instead, they're talking in the kitchen, as he drinks milk and reads a file, and somehow despite knowing she'd win any physical confrontation, she feels out of her element.
He gestures to the fridge, and she's quiet, just watches him despite the offer of milk. It feels strange and wrong in a way she can't put her finger on and she just waits until it passes, until he gets to the point she cares about, what she wants to know. He opens as she knew he would- and she shrugs it off amicably enough. She watches his fingers as he flips through the pages, and takes a breath.]
Thought I'd stop by. [She doesn't bother lying. She's not good enough at it to bother, not with someone that had hid so much from people like Natasha and Fury. She says it like it's not strange to stop by at midnight, slipping through the shadows of the communal kitchen. As if she hasn't ended up all but running away ever time they talk.] So, Ivan- is he someone you work with here, or did you know his projects from back home?
[She watches him, her eyes staying sharp, picking up whatever he gives away. Not that she expects it to be much, but there's at least a name on the air, something that could mean nothing at all, or the one that had made her life crumble time and again.]
[He would not have enjoyed watching him sleep; Pierce was a light sleeper, particularly when he wanted his naps. It made sleeping in loud places where gun shots and bombs could go off at night very inconvenient. He certainly enjoyed absolute darkness and quiet for when he wanted to recharge his mental batteries, but he had learned through years of crying children, random phone calls in the night that sometimes fewer hours of sleep were just a normal reality.
He still wouldn't have been happy to be spied on at night. That was his quiet time, but that was neither here nor there. That she didn't move off to help herself to a drink from the fridge was not at all surprising; so few spies took him up on that offer and that was sad. Good hospitality was falling by the wayside and no one seemed to appreciate that.]
An odd time to be stopping by and in such an odd place, since I know you don't live on this communal housing floor. If you wanted to know the colour of my pajamas, you could have just asked. [His eyes flicked up to study her, though he had already surmised that she had come here to poke around his business. He was pleased that she didn't bother to try to lie; it was such a waste of their time.] Oh, I don't have an Ivan in my department, though I am sure one is about these parts what with all the coming and going of new people. I had heard of his project back where I'm from, but I am afraid that, until now, I haven't had time to dedicate to his exploits.
[That she continued to ask questions about Ivan piqued his interest. Obviously, based on the file, she knew this particular Ivan, but as he had said, it was a common name.] You obviously know an Ivan. Would you like to talk about him?
[It's not really an answer or a denial, but it can be read that way. Really, it's just filling the space with things that aren't answers or lies, a way to distract. Because the truth is that while this might be worlds closer to what she needed to hear, it put her in a vulnerable position. Because these were things that mattered, things that were too close to who and what she was. Their conversations before had been games, but this was the one that mattered.
The words he voices hit her hard, and though she covers it well, he can probably catch the knife of it in her eyes as she watches him. That he knew about Ivan's project. It's possible it could be someone else, of course, but it's hard to get the details she needs without giving things away. But it's enough for her to think that it might be worth the risk. Just how much did he know about her? About a girl that was also a weapon, kept off-record for years, trained and locked away from the real world.]
Perhaps. But I'm more interested in what you know. What's this project you think was so interesting?
[Not that she thinks it'll be so easy; he's going to make her give something away for it. She just doesn't know what.]
[He pointed that out casually, putting meaning in the fact that she was here in this building again despite no longer living here. It overturned the idea that she might be in this communal kitchen for innocent reasons. Her ability to distract was alright, but it was clear Ava was also keeping things on the straight and narrow. She wasn't lying to him. He could needle her about it, but why? They both knew her truth of appearance.
He picked up his glass and took a sip from it, seemingly unperturbed by the continued line of questioning. He wondered if she was frightened, if what was in this file or perhaps in his head was dangerous to her position. It wasn't as if he had words to control her, after all. He had words and nothing more; what power they had were yet to be seen.
However, he was watching her, studying her reaction as they pushed back and forth gentle, playing a game of verbal cat and mouse.]
Of course you are. As a once Director of SHIELD, I had high clearance to review considerable information. I imagine your own history may have crossed my desk, since I do enjoy seeing the young fresh faces of those being trained at the Academy.
[He folded his hands over the file again, obscuring it casually.]
What project are you so worried that I may know about, Miss Orlova? Why should I confirm or deny what you yourself don't have the guts to ask me directly about?
[At this point, he wondered if she would take a firm stance or back off and flee.]
[He doesn't need her to confirm that, so she doesn't. Not now; not since the fire. Since she realized how dangerous it was to put herself in the middle of that many people. Actually tried to ask for help. She wasn't here for any reason except for this one, trying to piece together what he knew, and just how treacherous it made things.
She tries not to flinch when he mentions that her history might have crossed his desk. It's a possibility she can't entirely discount. Was it just when they managed to put her in the Academy? What about before? His hands obscure the folder he'd been reading, but for the moment she allows him that, and watches his face, his eyes, his expression. He still doesn't seem cruel, and maybe that's the worst lie of it all. Maybe it isn't.
He presses her, and she knows it's more a tactic than anything, giving him a weak point, or something to focus on, what she cared about. What scared her. But she doesn't back down, doesn't run this time -- this isn't the same sensation, those moments where it feels like he's crawling under her skin, where he's too nice and she doesn't entirely know how to handle it.]
Alright. [She smiles, but it's a sharp thing, wolfish and blade-edged, slight figure shifting to lean against the edge of the table as she watches him.] What do you know about Ivan Somodorov? Is that clear enough, Director?
[Alexander hadn't determined how dangerous he was to consider her, though since her continual trailing attempts, he certainly had began to comb back for all information that he could find on her. There was that interesting fire, but there seemed to be no reason for her to cause it. As far as he could tell, there were not enemies that required a reaction so... violent and that put so many people at risk. She was definitely smarter than that.
What he had gathered was that she considered him dangerous and that whatever he might knew could affect her. Even now - especially now - her persistence meant that she couldn't be certain of his intentions or what he might know of her or any others that might be like her. Was she special? Anyone with Black Widow training was considered special, and SHIELD didn't just keep those operatives laying around for no reason. And all indications were that she knew and potentially had associated with Romanoff.
He nodded his head when she took a stand against him, didn't retreat as she normally did. He picked his tactic immediately in the face of that, folding his fingers together. Not a threat, the stance reflected.]
Not much. He's a high level Red Room teacher, and he is the one that gives out the Black Widow title. He's known to be quite vicious. I believe Miss Romanoff is rather familiar with him. [That wasn't all he knew, of course. It was an honest answer though.] Is he the one that trained you as well, Miss Orlova?
[ PRESUMABLY: he's been on like. Light... around-the-office desk duty since his MULTIPLE GUNSHOT WOUND incident. Which is why Pierce gets this grumpy text one day at work: ]
Until I have a doctor's signature to approve your return to the field, I'm afraid I can't authorize it. We must follow the rules to obtain order and maintain structure.
While it may not be your cup of tea, the current celebrations of lovers and the like could be a good distraction until you are given the green light for active duty.
[ Rules. Order. He's had precious little of that since Crait. Perhaps he could do with some, after the month he's had, running around untethered until he ended up bleeding in an alley.
But still, he wants to protest. It's only the suggestion that distracts him from his restlessness, as he blinks at the text. ]
Isn't having a lover a prerequisite for such a celebration?
[ Which... he does. Kind of. BUT DOES IT COUNT? He doesn't know. ]
Prohibiting something so natural is short-sighted, and it will only lead to rebellion in the end. It's best to accept what will be and promote an inclusive environment.
[ Short-sighted. That's... yes. He can believe that. If Snoke had been truly wise in his handling of Kylo Ren, he wouldn't have wound up cut in two.
Though he's not so sure he agrees with the word 'lover,' he does have an answer to the question, one that perhaps flies in the face of his previous lauding of order and control. ]
Freedom.
[ Someone's entered his REBELLIOUS YOUTH phase since getting shot! ]
[People had to feel that they had a place to belong. They had to feel as if the organization in which they served looked out for them in the same way that that person would look out for the organization.
It was a culture that he had made certain to cultivate. Even now, he cultivated it within his company.]
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timeasmymeasure
Riverview
Date: 2017-12-28 03:46 pm (UTC)In the kitchen; after he gets her file
Date: 2017-12-30 04:48 am (UTC)So she's here, because that's something she knows how to do. Creeping around in the dead of night is very much where her talents lie. She doesn't quite know if he'll have anything useful, but maybe there's something physical, tactile.
She's slipping through the kitchen, when there's a sound from the hallway, and she slips silent into shadows of the corner of the room, behind the table. She's very good, trained well and then sharpened; just another silent shadow in the dim light.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 05:05 am (UTC)As was his usual routine, he enjoyed the quiet of the night hours and each time just after midnight, he gathered up a few choice reading materials, slipped into a pair of slippers and wandered his way down to the communal kitchen. It was always relatively well-stocked, but the state of the place was for anyone's guess as some residents clearly hadn't been taught how to clean up after themselves.
Still, pushing open the door, he wandered in to a darkened kitchen and flipped on the light. It was in relatively good state of affairs tonight, and he padded to one of a few refrigerators to root around for some milk, his staple. He set the file on the counter as he grabbed a glass and filled it half full.
Then he leaned over the file and flipped it open, shuffling through the thick assortment of papers. Slowly his eyes rose from it and his eyebrows drew together. That wasn't right.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 08:01 am (UTC)She's good at slipping away in plain sight, at knowing how peoples' eyes move and being where they don't focus. But, well. She's hardly the only person with that particular skillset that Pierce has dealt with. She watches him as he gets the milk from the fridge, doesn't look at her. He has a file, and that sparks her interest. Could just be something with his job, but, it could be something else. Her gaze isn't particularly heavy, but it is there, as she slinks in the shadows at the edges.
She shifts slightly, still silent as she watches him. She doesn't give herself away, but she doesn't run, either. Waits to see if he'll notice her. This is cutting away the almost-civil conversations she keeps running from, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe the answers come once she cuts away the pretense.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 05:01 pm (UTC)He might not be able to pick out when someone was hiding, but he had enough awareness of his surroundings to understand when there was a distinct possibility that he wasn't alone. His eyes flicked around to each of the shadows that were still present in the room, trying to pick out details but unable. He had only a small handful of people that knew of him that may choose to hide, or perhaps his arrival had simply startled someone he hadn't even met into hiding.
Either way, he slowly returned to his glass of milk and flipped into the file. He scanned through a few pages, picking out key words and key names first, pondering that information as he came to rest a hand on his cheek and went into a sort of quick deep thought, bringing together the pieces that he knew but hadn't had time to invest much time into.]
Ivan, you scoundrel... [He shook his head as he remembered distinctly the technology surrounding OPUS when it came to SHIELD. The success had been proven, but its uses had not bee fully explored.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 09:06 pm (UTC)Silence was easier, better, but that name was a soft spot, when she was only too aware of just what it could mean. The answer to the question she'd been trying to pull from conversations that were too polite. How much did he know? Was he like the people who didn't remember her? Or did words like OPUS project actually mean something to him? She wasn't sure that the feeling of not being quite so alone was worth it. What it would mean.]
Who's Ivan?
[As if she doesn't know, as if the meaning of it doesn't hum in her fingertips. A low murmur, like it's a continuation of a conversation and not a whisper in the dark. Her eyes are bright blue, but flat and quiet, intent.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 09:16 pm (UTC)Yet, her actually speaking caused his head to rise from what he was reading and drop the pages to lay flat again in the stack that they were. He raised an eyebrow at her, picking her out of the shadows she was half blended in, and he had to wonder if she was here to watch him sleep or if it had been a coincidence that she were no. He didn't believe that spies made much of coincidences unfortunately.
He gestured to the fridge behind him.] Would you like some milk? There's plenty cooled. [He pointedly took a sip from his own glass, returning to the file in front of him and again starting to flip through the pages. As if it were far more interesting than her presence.]
Ivan is a rather common Russian name; I'm sure you already know that though. Apparently, the Ivan mentioned here is a rather ingenious fellow. Quite good reading at midnight. Is there something that I can help you with, or are you simply passing through, Miss Orlova?
no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 10:12 pm (UTC)He gestures to the fridge, and she's quiet, just watches him despite the offer of milk. It feels strange and wrong in a way she can't put her finger on and she just waits until it passes, until he gets to the point she cares about, what she wants to know. He opens as she knew he would- and she shrugs it off amicably enough. She watches his fingers as he flips through the pages, and takes a breath.]
Thought I'd stop by. [She doesn't bother lying. She's not good enough at it to bother, not with someone that had hid so much from people like Natasha and Fury. She says it like it's not strange to stop by at midnight, slipping through the shadows of the communal kitchen. As if she hasn't ended up all but running away ever time they talk.] So, Ivan- is he someone you work with here, or did you know his projects from back home?
[She watches him, her eyes staying sharp, picking up whatever he gives away. Not that she expects it to be much, but there's at least a name on the air, something that could mean nothing at all, or the one that had made her life crumble time and again.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 10:22 pm (UTC)He still wouldn't have been happy to be spied on at night. That was his quiet time, but that was neither here nor there. That she didn't move off to help herself to a drink from the fridge was not at all surprising; so few spies took him up on that offer and that was sad. Good hospitality was falling by the wayside and no one seemed to appreciate that.]
An odd time to be stopping by and in such an odd place, since I know you don't live on this communal housing floor. If you wanted to know the colour of my pajamas, you could have just asked. [His eyes flicked up to study her, though he had already surmised that she had come here to poke around his business. He was pleased that she didn't bother to try to lie; it was such a waste of their time.] Oh, I don't have an Ivan in my department, though I am sure one is about these parts what with all the coming and going of new people. I had heard of his project back where I'm from, but I am afraid that, until now, I haven't had time to dedicate to his exploits.
[That she continued to ask questions about Ivan piqued his interest. Obviously, based on the file, she knew this particular Ivan, but as he had said, it was a common name.] You obviously know an Ivan. Would you like to talk about him?
no subject
Date: 2017-12-31 12:14 am (UTC)[It's not really an answer or a denial, but it can be read that way. Really, it's just filling the space with things that aren't answers or lies, a way to distract. Because the truth is that while this might be worlds closer to what she needed to hear, it put her in a vulnerable position. Because these were things that mattered, things that were too close to who and what she was. Their conversations before had been games, but this was the one that mattered.
The words he voices hit her hard, and though she covers it well, he can probably catch the knife of it in her eyes as she watches him. That he knew about Ivan's project. It's possible it could be someone else, of course, but it's hard to get the details she needs without giving things away. But it's enough for her to think that it might be worth the risk. Just how much did he know about her? About a girl that was also a weapon, kept off-record for years, trained and locked away from the real world.]
Perhaps. But I'm more interested in what you know. What's this project you think was so interesting?
[Not that she thinks it'll be so easy; he's going to make her give something away for it. She just doesn't know what.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-31 12:26 am (UTC)[He pointed that out casually, putting meaning in the fact that she was here in this building again despite no longer living here. It overturned the idea that she might be in this communal kitchen for innocent reasons. Her ability to distract was alright, but it was clear Ava was also keeping things on the straight and narrow. She wasn't lying to him. He could needle her about it, but why? They both knew her truth of appearance.
He picked up his glass and took a sip from it, seemingly unperturbed by the continued line of questioning. He wondered if she was frightened, if what was in this file or perhaps in his head was dangerous to her position. It wasn't as if he had words to control her, after all. He had words and nothing more; what power they had were yet to be seen.
However, he was watching her, studying her reaction as they pushed back and forth gentle, playing a game of verbal cat and mouse.]
Of course you are. As a once Director of SHIELD, I had high clearance to review considerable information. I imagine your own history may have crossed my desk, since I do enjoy seeing the young fresh faces of those being trained at the Academy.
[He folded his hands over the file again, obscuring it casually.]
What project are you so worried that I may know about, Miss Orlova? Why should I confirm or deny what you yourself don't have the guts to ask me directly about?
[At this point, he wondered if she would take a firm stance or back off and flee.]
no subject
Date: 2017-12-31 03:53 am (UTC)She tries not to flinch when he mentions that her history might have crossed his desk. It's a possibility she can't entirely discount. Was it just when they managed to put her in the Academy? What about before? His hands obscure the folder he'd been reading, but for the moment she allows him that, and watches his face, his eyes, his expression. He still doesn't seem cruel, and maybe that's the worst lie of it all. Maybe it isn't.
He presses her, and she knows it's more a tactic than anything, giving him a weak point, or something to focus on, what she cared about. What scared her. But she doesn't back down, doesn't run this time -- this isn't the same sensation, those moments where it feels like he's crawling under her skin, where he's too nice and she doesn't entirely know how to handle it.]
Alright. [She smiles, but it's a sharp thing, wolfish and blade-edged, slight figure shifting to lean against the edge of the table as she watches him.] What do you know about Ivan Somodorov? Is that clear enough, Director?
no subject
Date: 2017-12-31 04:09 am (UTC)What he had gathered was that she considered him dangerous and that whatever he might knew could affect her. Even now - especially now - her persistence meant that she couldn't be certain of his intentions or what he might know of her or any others that might be like her. Was she special? Anyone with Black Widow training was considered special, and SHIELD didn't just keep those operatives laying around for no reason. And all indications were that she knew and potentially had associated with Romanoff.
He nodded his head when she took a stand against him, didn't retreat as she normally did. He picked his tactic immediately in the face of that, folding his fingers together. Not a threat, the stance reflected.]
Not much. He's a high level Red Room teacher, and he is the one that gives out the Black Widow title. He's known to be quite vicious. I believe Miss Romanoff is rather familiar with him. [That wasn't all he knew, of course. It was an honest answer though.] Is he the one that trained you as well, Miss Orlova?
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From:text; un: ren
Date: 2018-03-06 09:07 pm (UTC)Send me out. I'm ready for field work again.
[ HE'S BORED. BOOOORED. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-07 02:39 am (UTC)Have you been cleared by medical? I haven't seen the doctor's approval yet.
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Date: 2018-03-07 02:40 am (UTC)[ In other words: no. Damn doctors!! ]
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Date: 2018-03-07 02:51 am (UTC)While it may not be your cup of tea, the current celebrations of lovers and the like could be a good distraction until you are given the green light for active duty.
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:01 am (UTC)But still, he wants to protest. It's only the suggestion that distracts him from his restlessness, as he blinks at the text. ]
Isn't having a lover a prerequisite for such a celebration?
[ Which... he does. Kind of. BUT DOES IT COUNT? He doesn't know. ]
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:02 am (UTC)A handsome young man such as yourself doesn't have one?
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:10 am (UTC)[ No wait WHY DID HE PRESS SEND WITH ALL THAT UNCERTAINTY. He quickly sends a more decisive: ]
Not exactly, no.
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:19 am (UTC)I suppose with your previous occupation, there wasn't much time for love. It is good to hear you living and seeing how the other side lives.
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:23 am (UTC)[ Were, past-tense, because he killed his master, and now nothing's prohibited. ]
I'm not out to sample love.
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:24 am (UTC)What are you out for when it comes to your lover?
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:29 am (UTC)Though he's not so sure he agrees with the word 'lover,' he does have an answer to the question, one that perhaps flies in the face of his previous lauding of order and control. ]
Freedom.
[ Someone's entered his REBELLIOUS YOUTH phase since getting shot! ]
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Date: 2018-03-07 03:33 am (UTC)It was a culture that he had made certain to cultivate. Even now, he cultivated it within his company.]
That's a broad idea. Freedom to do what?
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