#hel ghostrunner

Hel an V1!!!!

Jack does not look up from the katana he has been single-mindedly sharpening for the past ten minutes. The repetitive task is meditative, and the scrapping sound is strangely comforting to his ears. “The Climbers gave it to me,” he says matter-of-factually, “Because when they found me, I was ‘all jacked up’.”

Hel gives him a Look. She has a way of doing that, with her eyes and human face, that Jack finds quite funny. He’s been told by Zoe that he also has a Look, but that’s just what his non-face looks like. He can’t help it.

“It’s bland.”

“And yours is tacky.”

She huffs, tucking herself into the sweater Zoe gave her to cover herself. She may act as high and mighty as she likes, but her near-human mannerisms betray her. There’s too much meat in her cables, in Jack’s own humble opinion. He certainly doesn’t do anything like huffing.

“It’s not a name,” she bites out, “It’s a factory denomination.”

Jack glances up, takes in her glare, and says, “You should ask Zoe to help you choose another one.”

Some part of her machinery whirs loudly, the way of a ventilator trying to cool down an overheating processor. Jack looks back to his sword.