#forgedsoldier

[stormlit]

        god, she needs this coffee. she’s never needed a coffee so desperately in her life --- and she’s even willing to put up with the number of people in here, the fact that the queue is long, ‘cause at least it’s not starbucks in all its unethical, world-destroying glory. if she can pick an independent place, she will. the mug is at her lips before she’s even moved away from the counter, warmth spreading from the centre of her chest (and, more importantly, caffeine shooting through her like she was looking for a fix) as she scans the room in search of somewhere to sit. well, fuck; it really is busy.

       ❝ hey, sorry, do you mind---? ❞ one of the only free seats is opposite some guy, and she sits down before he can say no, smoothing down her skirt. his face is familiar, but his name is not, and thea frowns, trying to place whatsisname---the moments tick endlessly, until there’s a loud clunk in her brain as it all slots into place.  ❝ fuck, i didn’t recognise you without the flashing lights and deafening music. ❞

        (she still doesn’t know his name, though.)

@forgedsoldier

[tigermarked]

@forgedsoldier​ | starter call

      the quiet hum of an engine fills the vehicle with a baseline ambience that’s layered over with the occasional rattle of machinery, or the clatter of weaponry as it reunites with the floor after a brief stint mid-air. they’re going to have to stop soon. the night has often proven an obstacle not worth braving under the watchfulness of tired eyes––

sebastian shuffles, sighing into a more comfortable position as his eyes remain fixed on the path stretched ahead. for one, he was glad to be sitting in the quieter vehicle, the one only recently fixed; four hours, and the blood, sweat, and tears of a certain mechanic. 

he turns an appreciative smile toward the officer. ‘ nice work on the engine, mate. it’s quieter than the one that was actually working before today. ’