#synthons

@synthons​: “you are remarkably well-behaved tonight, what have you been up to?”

     It was all Sam could do to stifle a scoff.

     “I don’t know how to break this to you, Raiden, but... I am more than a villain in this grand story of yours. I have a life outside of ruining your day, as much as it brings me great enjoyment to do so.” He turned down the volume of his TV, let himself lay back across the mats. Though it wasn’t often they could have... less heated conversations, it was more than before ( which was none ) and the samurai was beginning to believe it was the distance, really, that helped the most. Either of them would be difficult to tempt into breaking out a weapon when they couldn’t physically retaliate against one another, after all, not to mention being in something of like a home did a great deal to ease Sam’s mind...

     A quiet laugh broke through over the comms. “Though insult-laden barbs are also inconducive to normal conversation, you know.”

@synthons​​ asked:  ‘ i can handle this on my own. ’ MEME:  WAYS TO REACT TO AN INJURY

The vicious anger poisoning the snapped tone is not lost upon Vincent - their movements had been anticipated, their plans shot to shit and injuries received because of it; ‘t  was easily something to lose ones cool over, especially when one was as prideful in their ability and work as Raiden. 

Vincent, however, chooses to blatantly ignore the venomousness spat towards him in the form of a short and independent sentence and instead chooses to help; to the very best of his minute ability. Sharp eyes scan surroundings, the half-in tact form of a building they now took shelter within virtually void of much of use, and yet there had to be something. 

In silence did he pace across the concrete flooring, careful not to slip on whatever fluid his cybernetic counterpart was leaking and turns his attention towards a draw - opening it and the others above in order before finding something he presumed would work as a last ditched effort;

“You’ve no more of your tiny repair units, so until we find one, we stop you leaking.” And thus the roll of duct tape was unwound partially - one hand gripping the roll while the other held the end of the tape, his determined pacing towards the other telling of his intent. 

        There’s a low snarl,   nose curling at the presence of stranger as she takes several steps back.    Her own back coming into contact with the wall behind her,   claws armed in defense.    She had been trying hard to just go under the radar until now,   avoiding as much contact as she could.     The occasional fight,    most of them were people who deserved it.   

        He’s tired. Of this, specifically. Soldiers and their need to put forth this bravado that they can shoulder everything and don’t need anyone. He’s dealt with it enough over the years that all it does is exasperate him. He’s more than capable of ignoring Raiden’s blatant stupidity just as he does Snake’s when it’s necessary. And Snake is ten times more stubborn than Raiden ever will be. 

        A lot has happened in the past few hours, but then again, Hal’s pretty sure that’s just how it’s been the last decade. He compartmentalizes. The surge of anger and grief at Vamp’s presence. The fear that comes every time there’s a close call. That feeling of utter helplessness he gets because he can do nothing other than sit behind a screen or at helicopter controls. All of it is filed away in separate folders and saved in the password protected documents section of his mind. He’ll deal with that later. He’s been dealing with a lot of things later. 

        Hal conceals the wince upon Raiden’s oh so graceful fall.

               “Do you even hear yourself?” 

        Hal frowns, sighing as he shoves his glasses up his nose. Sunny is a prodigal child, but she’s still a child. ...His child, really. She’ll want to help, of course, She can help, Raiden’s right. But she’s in the other part of the Nomad, and Hal’s the one who’s standing here, and he really wishes people would stop brushing him aside like he’s not there. 

                         ❛      Jack ,      ❜        a hiss ,   as if spitting out something absolutely VILE ,   RANCID .   The narrowing of gaze ,   L’Étranger viciously slithers by her feet in a manner that could live one believing it to be ALIVE .   It heeds her silent command ,   stiffening into the familiar polearm  &  driving the tip of it into the ground as she leans on it .   A look of CONTEMPT etches itself across her features ,   nose crinkling slightly as she looks at him .         ❛      A shame you are still alive ,   but what is done is done .      ❜

the  toe  of  red  hood’s  boot  digs  beneath  the  body  at  his  feet,     nudging  it  over  until  the  thug’s  slack - jawed  face  turns  upwards.     unconscious  for  now  though  it  would  be  a  lie  to  say  the  vigilante’s  finger  wasn’t  twitching  over  the  trigger,     given  the  man’s  criminal  record.     tongue  clicks  against  his  teeth  in  mild  frustration  and  a  short  glance  casts  to  @synthons​​​  offering  commentary  from  the  far  wall.

“ guys  like  this  believe  the  world  revolve  around  them . ”

finally  he  holsters  his  firearm  and  claps  gloves  together  to  clear  them  of  dirt,     punctuating  the  end  of  silence  with  a  sharp  huff.          “ seems  to  be  a  popular  opinion  around  here, ”          comes  the  responding  mumble.          “ what  i  can’t  understand  is  why  he  came  for  us.     it  wasn’t  just  dumb,     it  was  extraordinarily  dumb.     even  for  these  guys. ”          head  cants,     the  fabric  of  his  jacket  hood  rustling  with  the  movement.