#webrunners

[cryochronism]

@webrunners // SC.

X6 appeared as suddenly as he often departs; noiselessly, calm, and severe. His hackles here within the Institute’s halls are always raised ( they have to be ; coursers suffer the tightest collars under the Institute’s hands - something she works to undo ), but she sees just the faintest twitch of amusement in the corners of his mouth. He enjoys catching her off-guard, even if he’ll never admit it.

The mirth however quickly fades with puzzling news. And just like that, they make it to the teleporter to take them up to the surface of the CIT ruins. 

It’s a few minutes before Quinn and X6 finally spot the person in question; not alone, and armed enough that he’s no scav. Most folks avoid the ruins here. The Institute had created a dark history of violence to ensure it. Dusting off her vaultsuit, Quinn makes a point to kick some loose rubble to signify their approach. X6 by now has already disappeared like a wraith among the partially destroyed buildings; watching from afar.

❝Hey, you. You know it’s not safe here, right?❞

[hraunwyf]

@webrunners​

“tell me of the place from whence you came, cipher nine.”

it is an unusual day, but its irregularity is hardly happenstance—loki, having appointed herself the custodian of her system’s guest despite all protocol that would dissuade such a thing, has set aside time to be able to learn more of him. the return of his vision, and the more pertinent progress in his mobility, lend themselves well to a walk through the extensive gardens of the asgardian palace. 

and it’s a lovely day, as well, the slow ascent to autumn just beginning, the sun bright but not burning, the air warm but not pressing. “i have only ever been to coruscant, outside of my own system. i served as a senator for a while, but that was... long ago.”

[cryochronism]

thank you for this slkdjf // @webrunners

[cryochronism]

@webrunners said:  [ i’m fine, i’ve had worse. ] - damien. // STARTERS.

❝You know how people’ll have swear jars?❞ An oddly conversational tone takes hold, despite the circumstances. Can’t say she’s seen many situations involving impalements, but even if she had, Quinn feels this one might just take the cake. Her fingers curl in, hesitant, unsure of what the next step should be for something like this. ❝I’m thinking we should make one every time you immortals go handwaving the gravity of a typically perilous situation.❞

[cryochronism]

@webrunners said:  ❝ it’s true what they say. you’re good. really fucking good. got a stick up your ass, through. ❞ -V

❝For your sake: I’ll ignore that last sentence.❞ Sharp is her stare as she jacks out, winding the cable back before sitting up. It always took time, transitioning between data-based and protein-based realities. She feels the familiar bite of numbness in her fingers, the sting behind the eyes as her eyes adjust to the light. A few blinks, and Quinn shakes out of it; settling her attention on V. ❝Had a lot of time to kill in the net, so to speak; know my way around it. We ever find some down time, I could teach you a few things if you like. After, of course. Still got a job to finish, don’t you?❞

[cryochronism]

@webrunners. 

The Institute creates man, but treats them as machine. The Institute replicates human life, but forces them under the standards of mere equipment. She can see the ones that edge the lines of those requirements; quiet moments when they think they’re alone, when they think others won’t see; momentary slip-ups around the newcomer, the unknown variable, the mother to The Father. 

And then there are the Coursers. The ones not even allowed the luxury of those minute mistakes. The ones whose collars and leashes are tightest, even when given the freedom to see the surface. The one she works with now is no exception.

“Let’s take a break.” She says at one point, finding shade and the illusion of shelter in a dilapidated building, partially caved in. The sky hangs wide and grey over them, but the remaining walls provide some buffer against unkind winds. She digs through her pack, before tossing a spare nutrient packet to the Courser for him to eat. He hasn’t spoken much. Then again, so was X6. “Are you used to working with others topside? Or do you usually work alone?”

[axeattitude]

@webrunners: do you think maybe you should have some water? (from V) / work in progress.

kerry grips tight to the bottle in his hand, all smooth blue glass and flashy labeling, as he eyes v with an aura of reluctance. he hadn’t remembered asking him for his opinion, he notes, before he takes another swig from the tequila. his hold tightens further, offensively protective like a dog who thinks someone is about to take toy or a food away from them.

“no,” he snips in response. had someone sent him? did he come of his own volition? kerry doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to ask, either. “you think you should mind your own business?”

(if he had wanted someone to come into his trailer, he would have left the door unlocked and the ok sign on the door. the only reason he had let v in when he’d knocked was out of curiosity, but it hadn’t taken long for his mood to sour and for him to regret it.) 

[cryochronism]

@webrunners sent: ✉ (push my muse back down when they try to get out of bed) - damien // [MEME] 

The look she shoots him is one that’s never been reserved for him before, a contradictory blend of something both icy and seething; the effect, however, if muzzled by the setting. One’s intimidation only diminishes when bedridden, after all. She almost wishes Cvrie had never talked to him, filled him in. 

❝Look, I get that you’re trying to be-❞ A hand waves in the air. Sympathetic. Helpful. He always is, isn’t he? Even when he doesn’t need to be. ❝But seriously, if I don’t get at least one cup of coffee, this is only going to get ugly.❞