teapotshark — Roleplayer Guild

Tony

By the time Cat produced the motherboard from the iPod, Tony had dismantled a large chunk of the computer monitor. The odd wire now hung loose or stuck up in the air unattached, and small red-brown and white pieces lined the floor in front of him, arranged by order of size. He almost blacked out the world as he worked, lips moving as he silently counted, entirely in his element. He set another piece down and looked up at the other man.

It was the collected voice that drew him from his world, and the more time he spent with Cat, the stranger he felt. The man apparently suffering from insanity seemed so... calm, all the time. Tony politely took the motherboard from the other man, nodding in appreciation. “Thank you,” he said, his voice now somewhat clearer. He shuffled where he sat, adding the motherboard to a new line.

“I'm going to rebuild whatever I can to re-establish communications with the rest of the world,” he explained, gesturing the the equipment between them. His mind created blueprints before his very eyes, joining all the pieces together like a puzzle that only he could see. He twirled the screwdriver in his fingers absent-mindedly. “It won't be brilliant, but it will work. It's what I'm good at.”

Chris

At her comment, an image of Mercy doing her best to accumulate a 'hay hair' do in the barn sprung to the forefront of Christina's mind. She coughed suddenly, but quietly enough not to draw too much attention. Forcing that image away, a look of shame briefly etching itself across her features, she focused on moving her feet. Left, right, left, right... it reminded her of the militant way in which her team jogged around the block in the early hours of the morning, or whenever they were off shift. Watching her feet, she managed to school her thoughts again, though the shame lingered.

So consumed with scolding herself, she didn't hear half of what Mercy said about her debt. Chris lifted her head in time to see Mercy still smiling, and now inspecting the logo on her chest. The debt really never mattered, and Chris began to remind herself that she did not intend on staying at the farm for very long, though the idea was becoming more preferable. But before she could convey that to Mercy, the other woman was praising her work as a firefighter. Chris shrugged one shoulder. “I wouldn't call myself a hero,” she half muttered.

She returned her eyes to the ground as she listened to Mercy describe her working life... or what had been her working life. Chris couldn't help feeling somewhat guilty for making Mercy feel as though her stories were boring. Pulling it over her shoulder, Chris tugged on her dark braid. “You're no less interesting than I am,” she said, firm and clear in an effort to reassure her. “Tony persuaded me to put my recklessness to good use,” she explained in response to the question of her work, rolling her eyes. He had been right, though, the discipline and risks of being a firefighter both worked to benefit Chris. “Don't worry about that debt, you know. I was kidding, you don't owe me anything. Just keep smiling,” she added the last in a mumble before quickly continuing, “what did you study?”

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