Wherever you go, there you are [voicetesting]

[bothbarrels]

[ On the run. It was a phrase with certain connotations that North didn't necessarily like. It implied a sense of illegality, a sort of illicitness that he didn't enjoy thinking about. It wasn't him and South that had done wrong; it was the Director. But here they were, stuck with the consequences.

It had been nearly six months now. Six months on the run on a tidally-locked planet with barely even any cities to hide out in. Most of the facilities on the planet were sim bases, which were affiliated with the Project, and they mostly avoided those.

On this particular night, North and Theta had managed to hack someone's bank account and pay for a night in a hotel. It had been a while—quite a while—since they'd had one of those. North came out from the lobby and motioned to South to follow him to the door of the room they had gotten. ]

First dibs on the shower.

[ He says it with an easy geniality, as if they aren't on the run, aren't stealing other people's money to survive, aren't suffering from all the stress and tension that they have been allt his time. ]

Comments

[bothbarrels]

It really was.

[ Even frugal North can see that.

After he finishes his food, he tidies up his trash and puts it in the can. ]

We can stay here a couple days, at least. Theta hasn't found any evidence they tracked our last move.

[ownperson]

Two good nights' sleep. Hurrah.

[ She gives the world's laziest air punch and flops back dramatically, hiding a roll of her eyes.

They'd have been caught by now if the Project had anyone but her on his tail, she's sure. Even careful as they are. They've caught up to a lot of those who took the chance to bolt and there's whispers that Recovery isn't the only thing catching up to people, these days. Only whispers, but still. ]

[bothbarrels]

Maybe three, we'll see.

[ North reaches over for her trash and once everything's been cleaned up, he flops onto one of the beds. ]

Wonder what kind of garbage we'll find on TV tonight.

[ownperson]

[ South dramatically covers her face with her arms. ]

Ugh, probably re-runs of the exact same garbage from last time we had a TV to find garbage on. This planet sucks.

[ But she still sits up enough to be able watch whatever there might be, because you can't afford to be picky when you have literally no other options. At least garbage keeps your mind off other shit. ]

[bothbarrels]

Yeah. Probably.

[ He switches the TV on.

This turns out to be exactly the truth; he remembers watching the program that appears on the screen, but a different episode. It's about two cousins from different planets who meet when one makes his way to the other's planet to seek out opportunities that might be available to him there. The two get into madcap adventures every episode, it seems, and this time they're trying to paint a house. ]

[ownperson]

Told ya. Network out here has like, three things to broadcast, I swear.

[ She adjusts the pillows behind her to lean against and gets as comfortable as she can, settling in to see how ridiculous this gets. ]

Who even writes this stuff...

[bothbarrels]

Someone who's not actually a human being.

[ Based on some of the dialogue and situations, at least. No human being has ever dealt with things by doing that. ]

[ownperson]

[ South snorts a half-laugh. ]

What, you think they got the aliens writing weird TV? That’d explain some shit.

[bothbarrels]

[ He laughs. ]

Sure, why not? We're allies now, right? At least with some of them.

[ownperson]

Which is still fuckin' weird. After all that...

[ She shakes her head. Times sure are weird. ]

Guess there was a fuckin'— elite, or whatever, out there with a secret passion for writing terrible human television.