goneawayworld | Better not cry...

Entry tags:

north dakota

Better not cry...

Who: Everyone
What: Missions
Where: Ranging from the Rig to the North Pole and back
When: December
Warnings/Notes: Combat.

Sometimes, the holiday season passes without note. Sometimes it's the most eventful time of the year, capable of giving a poor stock worker PTSD. Fortunately for the Rig, they don't work in customer service. No, they're troubleshooters, which means that it's up to them to solve whatever problems Jorgmund points them at.

It just so happens that, this month, Jorgmund's using them less as a tactical nuke and more as a shotgun.

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South throws her head back with a groan. "Fucking— I'm not fucking stupid, York. Fine, sure, I know he's not my AI, he's certainly not the AI they fucking promised me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to just hand him over to you!"

She went through too much to get him. She sacrificed too much to get him. Even if North is alive back on the rig... everything she did still happened, she still spent months playing the long game, waiting for her chance, waiting to either cut loose or get her AI. An AI.

"You want him back, you're gonna have to fucking give me a damn good reason that isn't just wishy-washy feelings or fucking wait your turn to fight me," she sneers. "Pretty sure Wash still holds the front of the line."

"Then consider this me cutting in line," he tells her, because there's really nothing he can use besides their feelings to argue. Freelancer has no power here, and D being designated his means nothing when they'd take him away the second they could.

Recovery.

He shudders, hitting another goon with his full strength. He can't deal with his own death and the raw wound in his mind at the same time. The death bullshit, and Delta choosing to stay with him, York had picked that up just before losing consciousness, just has to wait.

"Are you going to keep running from me?"

Edited 2020-12-24 21:13 (UTC)

"I'm not scared to fucking fight you, if that's what you're implying," she says, a kick punching straight through a goon's torso. "But you keep picking this fight in the middle of bigger shit."

She considers using her power to get away again, but she imagines York isn't going to be so careless as to let her stay out of his sight this time, even with Delta focusing all of her attacks on goons coming up on York's bad side.

That, and she's not even sure if it'd work on these goons. She barely understands how it works on things that are clearly people, let alone whatever the fuck these things are.

"Because that's the only time I can--" he's knocked back with a soft 'oof' then redoubles his efforts against the goons, wanting this battle over with so that he can fight South instead. He doesn't care that he's exhausting himself faster. "--find you. You'd better stick around after this."

"Maybe you should fucking look harder," she sneers, as if she hasn't been avoiding him since the mission to Disney. As if she hasn't been avoiding everyone she knows whenever they're on the rig.

She doesn't comment on if she'll stick around because well, she couldn't make any promises even if she wanted to. She just turns her attention to another wave of attacking goons and does her best to capitalise on the assistance Delta's willing to give her so long as she stays in York's vague vicinity.

God, this assignment sucks.

York doesn't rise to the bait, just lets out a displeased grumble and keeps killing goons. They actually agree on that -- this assignment does suck. But she's not trying to disappear into the seemingly infinite number of creatures, so York will take it. And keep his eye on her, as close as he can.

Eventually, Jorgmund's forces triumph. One on one the snow goons weren't especially difficult to destroy, but the sheer volume of them has pretty much wrecked everyone.

Still, York approaches South (visibly exhausted, rolling his shoulders and neck tiredly) because he doesn't want to risk her getting away.

"Okay. You and me."

"Really? Right now? After all that?" she says, feeling the weight of the exertion herself. It's a weak attempt at deflection, one she's not exactly expecting to work, but she tries nonetheless. "You're way too fucking persistent, you know that, right?"

At least he isn't Washington, who's fighting skills have far outgrown his sixth place slot on the board since she last saw him. Since York died right before she got the damn AI, she can at least assume he hasn't gotten years of extra experience out of goddamn nowhere to use against her.

And, well, he doesn't have Delta.

If South is flinging being persistent at him as an insult, York doesn't seem to take it that way. He tilts his chin up as if to say 'damn right' and makes a come on gesture at her despite his obvious tiredness.

"I can't trust I'll find you again later, now can I? You're not giving me much of a choice."

“Ugh,” she rolls her shoulders and drops into a fighting stance, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, “I forgot how much of a pain in the ass you are. Fine, let’s get this fucking over with.”

If you so much as fucking think about interfering in his favour... she warns Delta, internally. He doesn’t respond, but she feels the non-response, and hopes that means he understands the threat.

He wouldn’t help her here and she doesn’t need his help, anyway. She just needs him to stay out of the goddamn way.

York is at a disadvantage here, unaccustomed to fighting without Delta covering his bad side. South also has height on him but he's pretty sure he's faster as long as he sees her attacks coming.

There are a few assumptions he can make. She'll stick to his bad side, try to tire him out worse, and strike at full strength whenever she thinks she's got a hit. He can use all of that against her.

"Wish me luck, D," he says softly, before rushing forward to meet South.

York's assumptions are correct: South immediately moves to come at York from his bad side without shame or hesitation, not only to attack but to force him to turn, to follow her movements.

Her fighting style hasn't changed in the years since they would have last trained opposite each other, that would have been as obvious back in Disney as it is here. Momentum, force, speed—any strike that hits will hit hard, but those that don't exert more energy than she can afford to waste.

So she's relying on those that do. Kicks and punches and targeted jabs coming from his blind spot. An attempt to sweep his legs from under him.

It's not as vicious a fight as it probably would have been if they were both at full strength. York is aided by the fact that he pegged her absolutely correctly -- the hits that he can't dodge hit hard but South is exhausting herself faster than he is and he's able to avoid the worst of it just because she telegraphs her moves slightly. It's the same as she always did, he doesn't need to see her 100% of the time to know what she's about to do. He did always watch everyone train, after all.

Still, it's close, and takes awhile before he's got her down in the snow, a knee in her back to keep her down, one arm twisted up behind her. He's panting and feels leaden, but he won. He fucking won.

"Had enough?"

South jerks around in a futile attempt to pull herself free and get back to her feet. But, the last of her energy exhausted and panting heavily from the exertion herself, even she can't deny that she's lost the fight.

Fuck. Washington was one thing, but now York too?

Still, knowing and admitting are two different things. Oh so maturely, she twists her head back and spits at him. "Fuck you."

...was this all for nothing? York scowls, leaning more of his weight on her, pressing her down into the snow deeper.

"Come on, South, give him up."

He's not willing to go full Meta and pull Delta out of her head, so if she doesn't... well. This is a bluff. She can probably tell.

South hisses and grits her teeth, shivering, but doesn't relent. Oh, she can tell. York's too soft to just take him, considering the damage it can do to just rip an AI loose, not just to the host but maybe even to the AI itself.

And she's not afraid to call that bluff. "The fuck are you gonna do about it if I don't, huh?"

"....god fucking damnit, South, why do you have to be so stubborn?!"

He won't rip D out but still he holds her there, angry as anyone's ever seen him.

"Maybe I'll wait until you pass out and then tell him to transfer."

South snorts derisively and shifts uncomfortably, her arm flexing in his grip. "The old override still fucking stands, dickhead. No external directives."

She'd made sure of that. It'd be too easy for York to try the same trick again when she wasn't paying attention, otherwise.

York grits his teeth -- that's about all he can do here and it pisses him off so much. With a sound almost like a snarl he raises his free hand and punches South in the side of her head as hard as he can, knocking her unconscious... then getting up and kicking snow at her bloody face.

"Bitch. I hope you get hypothermia."

She won't be left behind, he's pretty sure, but he can leave her out in the cold.

North doesn't realize that York had waited a little while before messaging him that South was out here in the snow. He heads out, in a rush to ensure she's all right out there. He might be upset with her, but he doesn't intend to let her get hypothermia or suffer even worse on his watch.

By the time North reaches her, South's come back to consciousness, but she's disoriented and shivering, dusted over by snow. She remembers York hitting her and she'd almost be a little impressed that he did, if she didn't feel like shit because of it.

Been a while since she got hit hard enough to black out. Ugh, her head's spinning. Combined with the exhaustion, it makes trying to get herself to her feet on her own is a futile effort.

When North reaches her, he can tell by the way she's moving that she can't rise on her own.

"All right," he says, crouching in front of her. "Let me see your pupils."

South grumbles, but she's too out of it to protest more than that, looking North in the face for what's likely the first time since their argument.

Her disorientation is clear and she struggles to focus her eyes on him for a moment.

"Fucker knocked me out," she mutters.

"So I hear," he says, nudging a lock of her hair aside so he can see her eyes better. After getting a good look he rises and offers her a hand.

"Come on, let's get you to medbay."

South takes his hand on instinct and then immediately freezes as her conscious mind catches up, her muscles tensing and air hissing between her teeth.

For a moment, it's like she's deciding if she should let go and push him away, but... she doesn't. She lets him pull her to her feet, stumbling a little as he does.

She's angry, not stupid. Dying of an unnoticed brain injury because she didn't go and get checked out wouldn't help anything.

He frowns, more concerned even than before, and does not release her hand.

"Can you walk?"

He moves a bit, to allow her to test out the response to his question.

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