ஃ ➡ @quick-drawn
IT’S JARRING, BEING BACK---
MEMORIES flood the forefront of consciousness, though apprehension pushes them aside, hindering his ability to catch one for consideration, treating them as though wisps - there’s but ONE thought that settles EASILY, & it’s the mere words :
‘ HOPE THINGS GO BETTER THIS TIME ’
he finds himself unable to tell if it’s GENUINE or WRY.
the RECOLLECTIONS aren’t all bad, some favorable impressions having been left with him, but AGITATION & a sense of PESSIMISM keep him from settling ;
he’s been CHASING GHOSTS over the past few years---
seems ironic he’d BECOME one.
...not that he really WANTED to haunt these halls in the FIRST PLACE ;
jesse had posed the proposition innocently enough, & jack---...well, lately he’s found himself content to trail alongside those cowboy boots ; but after reuniting with winston & the sway of THAT conversation, he’s actually a little SURPRISED to have been allowed entry.
DIRT & RED DUST COLOR THEM,
vagabonds, they two, having traveled much over the past while - jack hadn’t been certain what to EXPECT, coming back to this watchpoint, but it hadn’t been for the place to be UNCHANGED, pristine & sanitary ; it’s why he’s so focused on the patch of dirty on the back of jesse’s serape, because despite the YEARS he’s logged in this location, THAT is the only thing that feels FAMILIAR.
---they arrive at a room, quarters granted during their stay, & only AFTER jack sets down his duffel & gun does he vaguely recall there had been TWO rooms---he doesn’t make any action to leave ; finds himself hoping jesse won’t either.
“ strange to be back. ”
the remark is SUBDUED,
made after the door has slid shut, following which jack unlatched visor faceplate ;
his old overwatch issued ID sits buried somewhere in his duffel---
his NEW one with fresh lamination is a weight in his breast pocket.
“ i agreed to help with logs tomorrow at six-hundred ;
they give you any duties yet ?”
.
