#enforcerofthedead

[vietalis]

@enforcer-of-the-dead

“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there. Can I help you?”

[battlescarredhelicopter]

Quiet Pings.

                    THE HELICOPTER had spent the rest of his shift sitting in the VIP room, trying to calm himself; not out of fear for what had happened but that Barricade had run from him. A few drinks had been delivered but in the end, had been abandoned, and by the time he reached his apartment, he found the bravery to try.

                    A FEW pings were sent but Blackout didn’t expect an answer. He sat on the edge of his berth, staring at the floor and trying to calm his vent. A message. He’d leave a message, leave the ball in Barricade’s court.

          || ‘Cade? I... don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you ran. I’m not angry, not even angry that you took off. I just... are you safe? Wherever you are, please tell me you’re safe. I love you. Comm me back? I... want to talk to you. We need to talk. ||

[empathic-medic-blog]

@enforcer-of-the-dead | x

:No, physically I am fine:

«... all I need is your location. I can come over and we can talk.»

[in-need-of-discipline]

enforcer-of-the-dead replied to your post: Does he need an adult?

“Yes you do”

“Where am I going to find one of those?”

[ask-smokescreen]

"You are a terrible liar"

I’m not even lying about anything! Rude.

[battlescarredhelicopter]

@enforcer-of-the-dead said:

The harsh dialect came up again, the mixed words from previous languages laced with the more recent Kaonite tongue. :Meet me here.:. The words were spoken with a set of coordinates.

                    THERE WAS hesitation from the old helicopter; the message was old, he thought anyway. Missed among the many issues with his HUD. He didn’t quite know how old it was or if Barricade even wanted him there anymore. So instead of dropping everything and taking off, there was an almost shy ping that followed.

[battlescarredhelicopter]

@enforcer-of-the-dead

:Hey I am free of Iacon now. Hope you're doing ok.:

          || Where are you right now? I want to see you. I need to see you. ||

[battlescarredhelicopter]

@enforcer-of-the-dead

                    HE HATED this city and he hated prisons; this visit was a nightmare and it only got worse when he was forced to go through security. They were afraid of him and they should be; he was annoyed and frustrated, anxious and concerned about the safety of his mate. Or the fact that they were going overboard with safety precautions.

                    AMONG THOSE precautions included the standard weapon disabling chip and a full body scan, along with a single stasis cuff to cut his strength down enough that he could be handled, rotor blades locked down with binding, and they mentioned a tracker. It was overkill but also worrying; was this a sign that Barricade wasn’t in the best shape? He didn’t know.

                    THREE GUARDS were issued to take him to the visitor room to wait. He was earlier than they thought he’d be, and technically visiting hours hadn’t started yet, but nobody had the bravery to turn him away. And when they arrived at the room, they seated him at a table and dropped a datapad in front of him. To keep him busy and so he would understand the rules, like he was some bitlet that needed his servo held.

                    HE WAS thankful. It gave him something to do aside from staring at the binds attached to the chair across from him. And the implications of what that meant.