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Hexaflexagons

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Nov. 30th, 2020

bothbarrels: (A: Worry about the objective)
[personal profile] 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. ]
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