boom boom pow

shxcktactics; brandon sharpe, of the avengers academy

and the tree with two branches:

danceswithjerks; danny mahealani, living human and trying to stay that way

    “As for the Alliance, you are.” The tone of his voice adapts to the coldness in his eyes as the harsh words are directed at the expert in front of him. He fears the younger male will mistake their cause; that he’ll mistake his duty for his true feelings because he’s bound to treat him like any other hired mercenary.

    “Our requisitions were definite to begin with. We hired you solely for missions where technical knowledge is vital and that you’ll be put on standby until such a mission occurs. This also means that any type of subsidiary earnings is not allowed in order to ensure your readiness for duty.”

    Once again he lowers his gaze, arms cross in front of his chest as he passes the slender frame of the technician and takes a few steps away. There’s no turning back now.

     Whether he was talking to Dan, or the Staff Commander, he lost almost all of the courage'd had just a minute ago. Physically, he'd already shrank back, rolling back from the balls of his feet to let his heels hit the floor. The confidence he usually had wasn't supporting him near as much, especially not with Dan back in command-mode.

     " Then... "

    He doesn't want to say it -- he doesn't want it to mean something it shouldn't.

     " Then I terminate my contract. "

     He swallowed; it's an audible gulp, like he could reach through the air and eat the words once they'd already been let out.

This was Omega. Everyone drank. If not for some semblance of a good time, then for the ephemeral comfort that despite the shithole they’d found themselves in, at least the hard liquor was an inexpensive distraction.

Drinks, fights and noise. He wouldn’t deny that it reminded him of the krogan. Even the pathetic parts. And yet, there was something to be said of the fact that while the krogan were pushing past all of that at the sure and steady pace of molasses, Omega just stayed the same. Nostalgic.

"Since, you know. I like my drug dealers marinated."

That made Grunt laugh. Loud, gruff and just a tad sadistic, but then that depended on the person. His eyes lit up, dilated, as Grunt caught to whiff of burnt flesh even from here. The strangled noises of pain.

"Some barbecue. Ought to share the recipe sometime."

He'd never heard a krogan really laugh before. It's less rainbows and kitten giggles, more in the 'last sound you hear before you die' category. It's cataloged in some sort of memory, though if he takes the bait the krogan seemed to be offering, he might hear it again sometime. Sooner, rather than later, and not from the ass-end of a gun pointed in his direction.

For a finish, he flipped the charged, twin blades out on his omni, and jammed the clawed fist through the console, ensuring the room doesn't cool down without outside assistance for a nice, long time. Hot enough to cook dealers alive? Maybe set off a backdraft, when someone so foolishly cuts through the heat-sealed door.

The tension seemed gone, so he saw fit to approach the krogan, extending a covered hand. Not the one his omnitool was bound to, obviously.

                       ”That’s it, then?”

Before, Ryn wouldn't have even dreamed of getting in Dan's face like this. Walking forward, leaning in close enough to be perceived as a threat. He borrows a lunatic's grin, eyes wide and locked on the taller man's own.

     "I'm not something you just...set aside because it's 'too dangerous.' You tell me to sit and wait, I'll find something to blow up in the mean time, and we'll be crossing our fingers that our shore leave lines up."

I walked into this. I should've known better. I did know better. I did it anyway.