P90: Logs

Who: Agent South, Agent Washington & the Counselor
What: Wash and South encounter the Counselor
Where: One of the common rooms
When: Now
Warnings/Notes: Mild violence, probable references to past psychological torture/manipulation

Nothing has gone right for South since she arrived at the rig. You'd think that finding out your dead brother and teammates were alive and here would be a cause for celebration, but all it's ended up a cause for is arguments and frustration and upset and feeling more alone than when they were all still dead.

Of course, it's her own fault, really, even if she refuses to accept it. She made choices she never intended to face the consequences of and here, now, those consequences have become unavoidable. She was never exactly the best of friends with Wash and York anyway, so fuck them, but North...

They've never gone so long not talking, before.

The longer it goes on, the less likely it seems that anything will change. The longer it goes on, the clearer it is that North meant it; he's picked the AI over her. He's picked the computer program over her and the worst part is, she isn't even surprised. It had been clear for months, before the rig, where his priorities lay. Doesn't mean it hurts less to have it confirmed, though.

So her non-scheduled time is spent alone, and time alone means time to stew in her anger. Arguing with North is unsatisfying because he doesn't fight back and she won't be the one to break the stalemate between them, but he's not the only one she grows angrier at.

Agent fucking Washington. He told North what happened, he made confronting it so unavoidable, he ruined everything—that's what she's decided, anyway. That, and to return the gesture of hunting him down to let him know where things stand.

She finds him alone in one of the common rooms and blocks off the doorway, her arms spread across the space to grasp either side of the frame.

"This is all your fucking fault."