We&#x27;re the good guys, right?

Careful isn't gonna win you this race, man. Just be glad she left her grappling hook in her other pants; that does reduce the number of dimensions she's easily capable of running. Not... That she can, mind, but it may be somewhat more of a challenge now, at the very least. That said, the chase is the fun part- he'd win at hide and seek, thank you- so she's very decidedly still in view, with a decent enough head start. Better catch up.

Careful is going to keep a chair from getting awkwardly stuck to his ass or something. That'd make chasing a little more difficult. To his credit, once he was up on his feet, he was quick to pursue, racing out the door and down the street to at least keep Carolina in his sights.

If York would allow it, a natural silence would fall as they sipped their coffee; she was more than content to just enjoy the warmth of it. Honestly, it was getting a little brisk outside- she hadn't been sure what Chorus' season cycle would be like, so the cold wasn't anymore unexpected than anything else, but it was nice to have something warm. Jackets were in short supply, and she certainly didn't have a lot of chill tolerance. Not that she'd be caught complaining; it'd ruin her carefully manicured image, see.

Once she was done with her own drink, she'd return the mug - and York's, too, when he was done - and sit for a moment, before standing, stretching, and tapping York on the shoulder and dashing out the door.

"Tag, you're it!"

Gotta keep a little whimsy in your life.

York was always fine with companionable silence, especially since he needed to focus on drinking his coffee without burning his poor tongue. It was nice, just relaxing for a bit and enjoying the scenery (such as it was).

So relaxing, in fact, it took a second for him to realize what Carolina did until she announced her cheeky move and ran off. Dammit, this chair was too small just jump out of--

"Alright, smartass, c'mere!" With a grin, he carefully got out of his seat to sprint after her.

Carolina felt no need to rebutt that, simply raising an eyebrow at him before sipping at her coffee. Still a little hot to chug- not that the temptation didn't briefly hit her- but it sure felt good. Hell of a lot better than instant coffee or re-used grounds. They might not have fresh coffee beans forever, but they sure were working on it.

"You look slow as shit, so I hope you're still a little faster than that. I'd like to get a little more work than a brisk walk in." She might be a little slower than she used to be, but that didn't mean she wasn't basically legally obligated to give him shit. She's pretty sure he's still a criminal, technically speaking.

"I've always looked slow as shit, so that means nothing," York pointed out. He was built like a brick shithouse, after all. "But I promise to try and give you a decent competition."

He wasn't dumb enough to promise anything more than that, though--instead, he settled for taking a sip of his own coffee.

"Mm, not bad at all..."

"Yes?" Asking her that like that's an unreasonable thing to continue to be upset about has her almost missing that their coffee is ready. She'll let the barely suppressed scoff see her out over to the counter, forcing her slightly agape jaw shut as she pushed her reaction to the audacity to the back of her mind. At least, until she returned with his drink and he followed up with hit two of that one two punch.

"Hey, let's get the record straight here- you could never keep up with me." At least, not for long. "Unless you have a few new tricks up your sleeve you haven't told me about? Or you think I'm that much slower now, in which case- ow, first of all."

Despite her upset- it's mostly exaggerated for effect, but there's a kernel of hurt in there somewhere- she passed him his drink. It's not like she wants that nasty watered down shit. Honestly, she doesn't know how he tolerates it.

"Relax, I'm just... pulling your leg."

Okay, now that that was out of his system--

"I know you can probably outrace me at a casual jog somehow, but I like to think I'm still faster than I look."

Despite being reduced to a glorified mall cop on Meridian, he at least never skipped leg day... relatively speaking. Patrolling dig sites and work camps was a lot less boring than sitting somewhere with nothing to do, and it kept him moving.

"I figured we'd go on a jog after this, if you're up for it." Because of course she 'figured' that. "But if you don't think you can keep up with a woman with one leg, I suppose I can concede to some other activity."

Naturally, Carolina has to appeal to his competitive nature- she's not the only competitive one in this relationship, thank you. He might be a lot more relaxed- or, rather, capable of relaxing- than she was, but he didn't get to be as skilled as he'd been without having some kind of drive.

"Still upset that I stole your leg, huh?"

Honestly, fair.

"I'm pretty sure, even after my, uh, 'retirement,' I can keep up with you just fine," he added. "Especially with some caffeine backing me up. It'll be nice to get some real cardio in."

"I seem to recall you begrudgingly loving the sweeter mixes." Lina would pipe up after their orders had been placed, more or less, and their barista had turned to accommodate, as she stepped aside to one of the little tables that had been set up against the front windows. Honestly, the place had a lot of potential; the infrastructure to get it to meet that potential didn't really exist at the moment, but there was a vision here.

"Not that that's an option, but it's not like there's a menu anywhere. You could have asked for anything." She'd almost been hoping he went for something outlandish so she could rib him about it later. It wouldn't take long for their drinks to be ready; it's not like there was a line. She didn't really want to sit down for exactly that reason; inertia's a hell of a beast and she's always been the type to beat it simply by refusing to stop moving.

"I would have gotten milk or cream, but I'm trying to be realistic."

That wasn't him being rude; he knew better than to assume Chorus had the infrastructure for anything beyond the basics. Milk wasn't exactly a necessity for human society to function.

"Besides, all I need is a little energy shot. I'm gonna hazard a guess and say you don't want to go sit down and take a load off just yet. That's not your style."

"The fanciest thing they have." Obviously. She greeted the proprietor with a polite smile, continuing, "A cappuccino without the milk, please."

So... An espresso, but she's going to be a little sad about it. It was almost an inside joke; a running gag, more or less, and, frankly, practically a named menu item at this point. A Desspresso. They had a cappuccino machine, but no milk. Turns out, milk requires a dairy farm of some variety, and a supply of a domesticated animal that can be milked at any scale. They were still working on crops, so... Not the top priority.

"You?" She glanced over at him, suddenly realizing she'd forgotten his usual coffee request; she used to make it for anybody who asked- nothing huge, it's not like they had a crazy set of tools, but she'd liked to think she'd had a special touch.

That's the fanciest thing they had? Well, he couldn't really be THAT surprised by that fact, now could he? York should be thankful they had coffee at all.

"I'll just take an americano." He really just needed the caffeine. "You know me, gotta keep it simple."

"Just... Thinking of how close we came to losing everything again." It wasn't really a thought Lina wanted to elaborate on right now- she was decently confident that he would understand. She didn't look his way, though; she wasn't ready for the inherent emotional vulnerability that came with eye contact.

"It's why I couldn't be mad about everything in the past. Or... Part of why. After everything we've lost, and everything we've been through, what's the point of holding on to the bad?" As long as people weren't hurting one another. She had a feeling she could work with just about anybody anymore, as long as they were trying to be better than before.

"I've tried holding on to anger that isn't mine. It's... Difficult. And untrue." There was a kernel of truth, sure, but lying to herself about how she felt about things had put her in a very dark headspace; she wasn't being herself- she was being who she thought she needed to be.

"But... I still have a lot to reflect on, you know?" There was a lot of emotional depth she'd explored over the past few years, and a quiet kind of resignation to it that she'd never worn before they'd separated. Her spirit had been broken, in a sense of the phrase; she's just tired half the time anymore.

"... We're almost there. They don't have signage up yet; we're still trying to find paint." A welcome interruption, honestly; she half-jogged a little ahead of him so he could follow her as she turned in to a very unmarked, but remarkably clean and intact storefront, leading to a pleasant enough smelling little coffee shop. It was meagerly decorated, and the proprietor, not terribly busy at the odd early afternoon hour, put their book to the side before eagerly greeting them as they walked in.

"Well... that's definitely a better outlook than some people I know." Too many folks let their bitterness at the world get the better of them--even York wasn't immune to spite. Better to... roll with the punches as much as you can, right?

He decided not to press too much on the subject for now, though, especially since they were almost to the coffee shop. Or was it more of a cafe? Hard to say.

"Looks nice, though," he observed as he followed her inside. "What're you gonna get?"

((Beach date beach date beach date--))

#ooc #Cork

"I think a lot of people are just trying to create a normal that includes things they didn't think they'd ever get to experience again." Or... In the first place, for some of the younger ones. She didn't feel the need to say that part out loud, though. The overarching ramifications of long term war on an isolated population like Chorus were something that could be studied by somebody with far more experience than her.

"So... Canned goods at coffee shops." And actual coffee, somehow- that must have been one of the first things they'd requested when the UNSC had gotten involved. Which... Was another thing she hadn't really wanted to think about; it was because of Church that they had arrived, for better or for worse (they were still working on that part), but Church's existence with UNSC law was... Tenuous. By law, they likely would have had him destroyed- meaning that if Chorus was going to have a chance at not going to war with the UNSC, because Carolina and the others would never hand him over if they knew what was going to happen, he needed to die there. It wasn't just getting out of that room that he'd planned; it was what happened after.

She had a sneaking suspicion he'd known that risk even when they'd made the plan, and just hadn't said anything; she figured it'd be a problem for later.

Fucker.

Forgive her for retreating into her own thoughts for a moment, York- there's a lot to think about, and, frankly, there isn't a therapist on Chorus qualified to actually help her unpack all of that shit.

"When you've lost nearly everything to a civil war, yeah, anything close to normal sounds pretty nice." He could relate, to some extent; York was also pretty sick and tired of fighting... anyone, really.

"Canned goods at a coffee shop. That's a rare sentence."

For a bit, York was content with walking in silence, though it didn't take too long for hm to glance Carolina's way and realize she was lost in thought, to say the least. Considering everything he had missed, he wasn't too surprised.

"...credit for your thoughts, Lina?"

Carolina had no intent to grace that with a response. She has standards, thank you.

Livestock was a work in progress. So are animals worth hunting for game, actually; turns out nuclear war tends to really mess up the local ecosystems. There were some rabbit-like things in the area that they were trying to figure out how to farm, but that was a work in progress.

"There is some decent forage in the area. No mushrooms; they absorb waste really effectively- efforts cleansing farmland will probably reach them last- but the array of new-growth foliage is nice, and they've been able to repurpose preserved goods pretty well." She still wasn't sure she could say 'we'- she was new here, even if they'd accepted her presence, and even if she was spending a disproportionate amount of her free time trying to help rebuild. Carolina had always had a habit of separating herself from the people around her; whether it was some innate push to keep people separate so she wouldn't be hurt, or a feeling that she wouldn't be accepted if people knew her well enough, or some secret third thing was a little hard to tell, from the outside looking in.

"I'm guessing we're not going to go picking berries, though." At least, not for lunch. Might be a fun way to spend the day at some point?

"So, lots of canned goods, maybe MREs... I can live with that." Not what York would call fine dining, of course, but he hadn't been expecting that in the first place. As they walked, he took the time to really look around and appreciate the city; he hadn't had much of a chance to do so when he first arrived.

"Gotta say, the Chorusans know how to bounce back from trouble, though. This place is pretty nice, all things considered. You'd think there hadn't been all-out war recently."

Don't smirk at her, she's weak to that shit, and she's still learning to trust you again. Smug prick. Despite herself, she grinned a little, but she pointedly looked ahead. Somehow, letting him know she was enjoying his presence felt like letting him win, and she hadn't drawn out the part where he had to beg for her affection nearly enough.

"Staples, mostly. We're still working on getting farms up and running- even with the agricultural boost from the towers, it'll be a bit before food production is steady." Why do you think her kitchen was so sparsely stocked?

"But bread is becoming much more common." It's funny- she hadn't realized how much she'd miss bread, of all things. It made sense, in a way that she didn't fully grasp; humans have been making bread longer than they've been writing down how. Regardless, however, pastry availability was a hell of a step up.

"Damn, you guys are eating office supplies?" Get it, staples? Dad joke. Anyway.

"Well, if all I get is a salad and some... breadsticks, I guess, I'll be satisfied."

Honestly, he wasn't expecting a big juicy steak or anything around here. Not any time soon, anyway. He hadn't even seen any livestock.

For the record, legs aren't cheap either- but he is right in that an eye is a whole different level, just in technical expertise. Lina's pretty sure she'd heard somewhere once upon a time that the human body's immune system didn't even fully recognize eyes as being worth protecting- or... Something along those lines. That was never really her field of expertise, beyond the occasional fun fact.

"Good news here is that they don't actually have a functional economy yet, so... Maybe get in good with the locals?" Step one, if nothing else. They didn't have the equipment to get her a permanent prosthetic (at least, not yet- they're working on it), so the odds that they'd have the equipment for an eye seemed slim to her, but she didn't know for sure.

"Oh, the cafe's coming up. Did you have something specific in mind?"

"Well, I plan on sticking around, so being a dick to the locals seems like a generally poor idea," York said with a smirk. Besides, if Carolina was willing to stand up for these folks, they had to be good people. He had no reason to be anything other than polite.

"Oh, right--well, I haven't magically acquired any allergies over the years... I was planning on winging it when we got there, honestly. Not sure what Chorus has to eat, really."

"I'm not sure glasses can fix scarring on the surface of your eye." Unless he was worried about his other eye, which... Fair, she supposed. "Have you ever considered a cybernetic replacement...?"

The operation, as she understood it, was very sensitive and more than a little intrusive, but restoring vision and functionality seemed worth it to her- but that wasn't her choice to make. Honestly, she'd find it weird if he hadn't looked into it; surely Delta had, if he hadn't.

"There's always a monocle..." That was mostly a joke.

"I've looked into it a few times, but I haven't exactly been in the right financial state to do something like that." Especially for something like an eye. Not quite as easy to replace, even with modern medicine, as a lost limb.

They finally reached the bottom of the stairs- really, it would be faster if you'd just take the window with her- and she was happy enough to emerge into the open air out the front door.

"He does have a bit of a bone to pick with you about it, yeah." Sorry, York, not everybody's ecstatic to see you. Hell, to be fair, even she had mixed feelings about him being here; it's easy to romanticize a dead man. Much harder to look him in his face and remember his flaws- or the tricky nuance that is living around him.

"Now that you've robbed me of my mobility aid once today, I think it's perfectly fair game to ask how your eye's healed up, though." More of a demand than an ask, but she worries, you know? Even if he can't see out it very well, at least she hoped there wasn't pain.

He'll pass on the window, thanks. He's long since retired from jumping off or out of buildings.

"I don't blame him, I was absolutely a dick," York replied with a laugh, sighing with relief once they were on flat ground and back outside. Ah, much better. "But hey, maybe he'll relax a bit once we talk it out."

Right, his eye. It was still a pain in his ass to this day, to be honest.

"Eh, you get used to it," he admitted. Regardless of the annoyance, after years of being blind in one eye, he had intuitively adjusted. Still had shit peripheral vision on his left side, but that wasn't as important as it used to be. "Hurts when I read. Maybe I should get glasses."

"She was skilled. When she put her mind to it, she was a great strategist; she had a very tactical mind. She just didn't include other people in her strategies." Except as marks. Honestly, she might have worked exceptionally well as a solo agent- something Carolina herself tended to struggle at- but that's not really how they were set up. There's a reason South's most successful missions were with one, maybe two other people.

"... That, and she and North were codependent. Perhaps... More heavily on one side than the other, in retrospect." Carolina hadn't ever really put voice to a lot of these thoughts and observations; she hadn't really wanted to disrespect the dead like that.

"I guess it was one of my failings as a leader that I didn't realize how the format was hurting South; I expected her to 'get it together' without identifying the problem." Oh, there we go- it was inevitably going to circle to how much she blamed herself for everything, wasn't it? Not that she put voice to those thoughts very often, either, but still. Even if she'd wanted to, could she have stood up for anybody else in the project? Or would she have been shut down?

"I... Guess it took me a really long time to actually respect Wash, too. I still find myself hovering with him."

"You were being manipulated just as much as the rest of us," York pointed out. "You're not omnipotent, you can't account for everything. And hindsight is always 20/20."

Of course, she's probably heard all of this before from Wash, so he decided not to linger on it for too long.

"In all fairness, you know what Wash was like. I feel a little bad for giving him such a hard time back then." Only a little, though.