[ hm. neutralizing a threat in this city is complicated, wash isn't sure how aware locus is of some of the details around it. death, unfortunately, doesn't stick. he might bring that up later, depending on what wash feels is most useful to him.
but the response, not this. that's interesting enough. because that implies -- ]
[Carver told him about death not sticking, and he's fairly certain he's heard others talk similarly. He's not certain if he believes it yet or not. He supposes it tracks though with dead people having an existence here and all. Maybe that's part of why he hasn't done anything yet. That, and he needed to find his target and decide which way would be most effective to send his message. He'd circle on these thoughts for a while.
This is the point in the conversation where things become uncomfortable (again). He hesitates, the time ticking away into several minutes before he eventually replies.]
wash considers this quietly, for a while -- it doesn't tell him much, of course. locus is right. everyone is everyone. all vague, no specifics, they can keep playing around and wash will talk ideals if locus wants to but he'd also really appreciate some actual specificity about what the hell must have happened so he can decide if he needs to care about it. ]
What's this about, Locus?
You come out of nowhere asking me about what I'm willing to do for those I care about, about giving meaning to people. There's someone in the city that you gave ammunition too, but you've apparently taken care of it. No regrets, no questions. Surprisingly not that much talking about what it means to be the perfect soldier and how I used to be better.
[It seems Washington has misconstrued some of the information that Locus has given him. Not that Locus had made it easy to follow him. But Locus isn't certain he cares to correct Washington, or give him more. His reply takes a moment as he considers.]
[ the correct answer is that wash is heavily invested and interested in felix's wellbeing. as far as he's concerned, he may be more currently invested than locus is, and certainly is in the better position to look out for him. locus is most likely tucked away in safehouse that wash himself secured, while wash has been looking out for ( among other things, its complicated ) felix in his vulnerable recovery since that incident with carver. wash damn well thinks he should know all the details, deserves to know what's going on and if there's any steps he needs to take.
none of his he'll share, of course. but there is a slight delay in response, a few moments to sit there in silence, his jaw ticking slightly in annoyance. ]
You don't think being aware of potential threats and their movements in the city is important? You didn't have a problem telling me about it earlier. I just want more specifics so I actually know what's going on.
['Help' the Freelancer says as if that were not strange thing to offer one's former enemy. As if it were perfectly normal to do, as if it didn't baffle Locus completely. There was another pause this time if just for that last line of text staring at Locus accusatorily from the screen.]
I take it you've been here long enough to understand the city and it's unusual nature so I won't bother trying to make it sound reasonable.
[He still doesn't really get it but Felix hadn't batted an eye so. Here goes nothing.]
I shared a dream with someone several nights ago. I saw their world, their people, their memory. In time, the dream shifted to do the same from my perspective. He saw my memory.
The man in the dream was Carver--the same as the one that Felix has poor relations with. A man I met early in my arrival here, and made enemies with immediately as well.
He recognized Felix from my memory.
That's what happened. That's who I will kill if he goes anywhere near Felix. Or if he comes after myself again.
[ locus out his ass. this isn't a radio transmission and he's going to respond if he wants to, which he does.
he reads through locus' responses, noting with utter lack of surprise how much the man apparently stumbles over the idea of wash offering any kind of help. but mostly, he's focused on if there's anything useful. dream sharing, he'd guessed that already, and -- wait.
carver?
somewhere in their apartment, probably enough for felix to notice if he's paying any attention from where he's lounging on the couch, wash drops his head into his hand with a sound somewhere between a long-suffering sigh and an irritated groan. he kneads slightly at the corners of his temples in a feeble attempt to soothe his growing headache before tapping out a response. ]
I really hope you kept this to yourself.
[ he didn't. wash already knows he didn't. good god, what a pain in the ass, and locus probably has no goddamn idea just how profoundly counterproductive whatever attempt he made at protecting felix really was.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but the response, not this. that's interesting enough. because that implies -- ]
Not this.
But other things?
no subject
This is the point in the conversation where things become uncomfortable (again). He hesitates, the time ticking away into several minutes before he eventually replies.]
Everyone has regrets, Agent Washington.
no subject
wash considers this quietly, for a while -- it doesn't tell him much, of course. locus is right. everyone is everyone. all vague, no specifics, they can keep playing around and wash will talk ideals if locus wants to but he'd also really appreciate some actual specificity about what the hell must have happened so he can decide if he needs to care about it. ]
What's this about, Locus?
You come out of nowhere asking me about what I'm willing to do for those I care about, about giving meaning to people. There's someone in the city that you gave ammunition too, but you've apparently taken care of it. No regrets, no questions. Surprisingly not that much talking about what it means to be the perfect soldier and how I used to be better.
You just here to chat?
no subject
No.
You've made your point. We've no business talking to one another.
no subject
[ and you know, wash doesn't even necessarily mind playing therapist. but there is some actual information he'd like. ]
What happened with Felix? Who was it that you went after? How much has the situation changed since you intervened?
no subject
And what will you do with that information?
[What does it matter to you?]
no subject
none of his he'll share, of course. but there is a slight delay in response, a few moments to sit there in silence, his jaw ticking slightly in annoyance. ]
You don't think being aware of potential threats and their movements in the city is important? You didn't have a problem telling me about it earlier. I just want more specifics so I actually know what's going on.
I'm not going to be of much help otherwise.
1/2
I wasn't asking for help.
2/3 i lied one more
I take it you've been here long enough to understand the city and it's unusual nature so I won't bother trying to make it sound reasonable.
[He still doesn't really get it but Felix hadn't batted an eye so. Here goes nothing.]
I shared a dream with someone several nights ago. I saw their world, their people, their memory. In time, the dream shifted to do the same from my perspective. He saw my memory.
The man in the dream was Carver--the same as the one that Felix has poor relations with. A man I met early in my arrival here, and made enemies with immediately as well.
He recognized Felix from my memory.
That's what happened. That's who I will kill if he goes anywhere near Felix. Or if he comes after myself again.
no subject
Don't pretend you're going to help when the time comes just to get information out of me. I'll tell you when I'm ready, or not at all. Locus out.
no subject
he reads through locus' responses, noting with utter lack of surprise how much the man apparently stumbles over the idea of wash offering any kind of help. but mostly, he's focused on if there's anything useful. dream sharing, he'd guessed that already, and -- wait.
carver?
somewhere in their apartment, probably enough for felix to notice if he's paying any attention from where he's lounging on the couch, wash drops his head into his hand with a sound somewhere between a long-suffering sigh and an irritated groan. he kneads slightly at the corners of his temples in a feeble attempt to soothe his growing headache before tapping out a response. ]
I really hope you kept this to yourself.
[ he didn't. wash already knows he didn't. good god, what a pain in the ass, and locus probably has no goddamn idea just how profoundly counterproductive whatever attempt he made at protecting felix really was.
at least he knows, now. ]