pain_train | SANCTUM INBOX

"Lucky for me I have a two-handed sword." He glances over at the tray table. "How's breakfast sound now, hm? Still want the juice first?"

"Makes you slow," she taunts.

Speed has always been her advantage.

She considers her stomach, how things are. She has more distance from her own fright. "I think actually... I think I can manage real food now. There's been enough time."

"I'm only slow because I need practice," he says, not bothering to deny it. He was an expert in sniping, not melee.

He nods and turns to grasp the danish with the wax paper that's in the sack and brings it over to her. "I don't have a spoon to feed you with, so we'll have to be more careful about the crumbs." He cups his other hand under her chin and holds the danish up for her to take a bite.

"Eating a danish with a spoon would be weird anyway." It just... Would be. Like eating cookies with a spoon. "I won't tell who did it if there are crumbs."

She still has no idea what the real concern is, there. Gloriously clueless.

She does her best not to make a mess anyway. For what it's worth, considering danishes tends to be petty flaky. Good thing North has big hands. Though there's something decidedly odd about having his hand right there. Odd, but also a little nice.

"I'm not supposed to give you stuff like this," he admits. "The pie was even stretching it." This is outright breaking it. But he's being damn careful.

"Hospitals have stupid rules." She rolls her eyes. "I'm the one that would have to lay in the crumbs anyway. I figure, I could..." Get taken. Forget. Be unmade. "...die any time. I don't want my last meal to be something terrible if there isn't a tomorrow."

He throws the handful of crumbs away. "We just have to be careful." He doesn't want to concern her with the actual reasoning.

He can't deny her other statement. From the way Whiskey talks, anyway, things really are that delicate. "I still have to make you soup. It'll probably be later in the evening tomorrow. I'm on duty during the day."

"Yes, dad," she says in a taunting sing-song.

Because yeah, definitely not feeling all that familial toward him. Dammit, Tex.

She grins. "Soup! I can't wait for it. I've wanted soup forever... Oh, see, now I'm jealous. You get to go to work tomorrow." Her smile has a wry moment before becoming enthusiastic again. "Still mostly just training since you're in your first month?"

He grins, cleaning off her chin before getting the milk and straw. "That's right, that's the kind of authority I have over you in these situations, so don't you forget it."

"The soup will be good, so you can look forward to it," he says. Even though he's never made that kind. He has a way of adapting to recipes he's not used to.

"Just training on the sword. The rest of the time I'm training others, or recommending them for discharge."

"Good thing I'm in traction so you can't spank me."

... Oh god that did just come out of her mouth subject change, subject change!

"I'd say everything you make is good but you keep telling me I should reserve judgment. So I'll just have to wait for more evidence."

... Discharging? She frowns thoughtfully. "...what's the boss up to?"

So much innuendo between them. He grins to himself and blinks away from her for just a moment. "I've never made dumpling soup," he explains. "But I've made other kinds. I'm not guaranteeing you'll like it, but you should."

"I can't talk about what Commander Victor's up to," he says, "mainly because I haven't been let in on details yet. But everything is working toward strengthening the forces."

"Soup isn't hard, is it?" She has no idea. She doesn't cook. "I bet I will. I don't know why I want that soup so much... It just sounds so good. And I've never found a take out place where it tastes right."

So the commander is playing things close. That some seems... Weird. "Strengthening?" But didn't he say they were discharging people? "Who are you turfing, then?"

She hopes her platoon is okay.

Edited 2014-11-05 19:16 (UTC)

"The broth isn't hard, I've just never made that type of dumpling before. It'll be fine."

He wishes he could tell her not to worry about it. He has to stick to telling her safe things, the basics, just in case the cameras here have reappeared. "Just anyone who's too soft. She's got certain standards I'm not sure everyone already there was reaching."

"Oh, so it's a challenge! Good. I'll keep you on your toes."

Well, she supposes that makes sense. "It was kind of a mess. The last Victor was..." Except she can't remember anything, and Ferrell's deeply uncomfortable, taking about her CO like that. "Hopefully my platoon is being a good example." None of them should have gotten bumped out.

"Hopefully. I don't know which ones were yours." He could stick around like this for hours talking; hopefully it's not too soon before her next dose of medicine, because that seems to be the cue that things will be drawing to a close.

"They'll all have the wolf head insignia on their uniforms. And Wrath platoon's color is red, so red piping on their sleeves. That's the easiest way to tell." She wrinkles her nose. "It's only red because they won't let me change it to pink. But some of it's tradition. Envy platoon is always green. Lust platoon is always black or charcoal gray."

Which would be why Victor looks like she's always dressed for a funeral. "If you get to pick your colors, what'll you take?"

"They already did let me choose, I suppose. I have purple accents." Maybe they'd make him change it later, he didn't know. "I haven't really been paying attention to the colors, so I'm not sure if everyone from your platoon is staying on or not."

"Oh, cool. Well, that means you won't be commanding Envy or Lust, then." Not going to comment here about North having any kind of command over *her* lust, because she's trying to figure out this friendship/relationship thing. "Purple is a good color."

She falls silent for a moment, brows drawing together as they often do when she is attempting to remember. "I might have had purple hair for a while."

But anyway, her platoon. "If any of them washed out at this point, I will be seriously fucking disappointed in them. I run ththemen hard."

"I'll let you know if any of them do. I hope you don't have anything to worry about, though."

He smiles at the image of her with purple hair. The pink was quite a look for her as it was. "You like dyeing your hair, then?"

She snorts. "If I do, I'm going out ass-kicking once I'm out of this place." She takes good care of her soldiers. In return, she expects a lot out of them as a fighting force.

"Yeah, I do. Like... no matter what." It's something that she picks. She knows from pictures that even when she's fresh out of compliance she has her hair in some sort of strange color. "It's... mine. It's me." She smiles. "You should see the giant box of touch up dye I have under my bed on the base. If the barracks ever explode randomly, that... might be the cause."

Edited 2014-11-05 21:40 (UTC)

He laughs. "Well, the pink is nice. Brings out your cheekbones."

She doesn't quite blush, but she's definitely feeling warmed by the compliment. She doesn't get a lot of people telling her she's pretty. This might be because most of her encounters with other people involve dislocating their joints. "Wow, thanks!"

She glances up toward her hair; she can see just a fringe of it. "I'm kind of surprised they didn't have to cut it all off but I guess this time my head was the one part of me that didn't get fucked up. The nurses want to cut it off now though. I probably should, cause it's just hair, right?"

But then she'd feel like she wasn't herself.

"You're welcome," he says with a smile.

"They want to cut it off? Why's that?" In any case, nothing much would be happening to her hair until she could raise her head from the pillow.

"Even if I'm just laying here it still has to be washed and brushed. It's a pain in the ass for the nurses." Wry smile. "I don't know why Whiskey didn't just shave it off during surgery. I guess he likes my hair, maybe. Even if he won't admit to liking anything."

It was true, the hair near her scalp was looking a bit greasy. "They have waterless shampoos, don't they? I wonder why they haven't taken the time to do that."

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