anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

"Things will be different for a time."

They'd have to focus up, that much was true. He wouldn't have it any other way. Charon was still out there and Hargrove still needed to pay his pound of flesh. Especially after what he'd done to him, to Felix.

But there is for a first time a consideration of what might follow, and his lips curve as he tips his head forward, resting his forehead to Taylor's.

"After our mission is complete, who's to say?"

It's the first time Sam's talked about an after. The first time he's even really mentioned it beyond 'this leg of the mission' or 'this part of the job'. It's such a small goddamn thing but Taylor-

Well, one way or the other? He's glad for him. That he's come this far and is looking ahead. Looking past the blood.

"Celebratory return to Casbah, maybe. Or-" Take Sam home. He hasn't BEEN home in years but... "Earth? I haven't been since I shipped out the first time."

This is being really fucking optimistic and he tries to shake it off, focusing instead on having what he's got right now. Sam and a mission and maybe, MAYBE. A milkshake. If he can find the blender.

"Perhaps. I wouldn't be opposed."

Just the idea of an 'after' is something new to entertain, and perhaps it's too optimistic. Too hopeful. Taylor might have to put a bullet through him any day, but they're sitting here dreaming of a life after the fight.

How did that happen? He finds himself staring down at Taylor like doing so might provide an answer, following the curve of his cheek and those deep scars, to the stars now decorating his ribs.

He's content to stand and lean for, well. Ever? Ever. Or till something else needs to happen- he is after all a simple Taylor with simple needs, one of those being physical contact. Having it filled so often has him pretty well floating- energized and upbeat and sleeping well when he crashes. It's a nice upswing.

How long that'll last- well.

Who knows.

"You've got that look." He peers up at Sam, brows lifted. "The 'I am realizing a thing and think I might need to be concerned but don't know if I SHOULD be concerned, Taylor's an adult, maybe he knows' Look. What's up?"

"Thinking about what comes next. The future."

Simple enough for some people, but he'd been so used to living day to day, moment to moment, mission to mission. The thought that he might actually envision a life outside of combat now...

"That wouldn't have been a concern, before you."

Before this. All of this. However they choose to define it at the moment.

"...Well. I can't brofist you for that because-" he said he wouldn't and Sam doesn't fuck around, jarred his hand something fierce the first and last time something like this came up that was worth brofisting over. So instead he leans up on his toes, pressing their lips together.

"I mean-" Delta flares in the back of his mind, York no, York stop, but no. York doesn't stop, York says the thing. "We could do celebratory fisting but that's a whole other animal."

Well. He's not wrong. And he'd certainly enjoyed it at the time.

"Indeed. And I thought you were looking forward to that nap." Locus chuckles, dropping his hand and motioning towards the kitchen area. If they're going to search for that milkshake, may as well get to it.

"Later, perhaps."

How do his less than smooth moments keep working? How. Delta has to assume that it's due to their flawed nature somehow- the lack of polish must make them interesting. Taylor, however, just takes that laugh and turns to head back in the direction of the kitchen. He's pretty sure there's a blender somewhere.

Like.

Fifty percent sure.

They work because they're not smooth. Not planned. They're whatever is on Taylor's mind at the moment, and that honesty is charming, if a little awkward at times. It's one of the things he's come to appreciate greatly in their partnership.

No secrets. Or at least very few, none of which match the magnitude of what he endured during his years with Felix. Something that has the AI grumbling in the back of his head as they walk.

"I don't suppose you know how to make one."

"What, a milkshake?" He peers over his shoulder at Sam, tugging out the blender- ha, hiding behind the coffee maker. "Yeah. It's milk and ice cream and flavoring like. Syrup and shit. Trick is getting the ideal ratio of ice cream to milk."

Too little milk, it's not sippable. Too much and it's runny and ugh. Delta diverts some processing power to sorting out the ratio with the highest ideal probability of being good. "You've never made them before?"

"No. But then I don't have much of a sweet tooth."

Still, if he wants a milkshake, then milkshakes they will have. While Taylor fiddles with the blender, Locus sees to acquiring the milk and ice cream. Funny. He didn't know they had any. Perhaps he picked some up while out getting his tattoo, he reasons.

"Makes sense." Vanilla because why not. York plugs the blender in and rummages around in the fridge to find chocolate syrup. Alone for two days, D getting on him about his weight- so he got some shit he knew would pack on pounds. It's been a few days of terrible eating, but D's pleased.

For.

some reason. "3 scoops of ice cream and D'll give us the ideal amount of milk based on the volume of said scoops."

"Oh sweet Jesus, can you not."

Felix had appeared by this point, standing somewhere near the blender and looking utterly annoyed with the proceedings. "It's ice cream. You don't have to make a fucking science project out of it."

Well. He'd been quiet and happy for long enough, Locus reasons, though his eyes narrow all the same as he peels open the container of ice cream.

"Precision and specificity are important. Besides it's on the fly calculations, measurements, and ratios. Have you ever tried to mix napalm mid flight without fucking up and blowing everyone up?" He has. He din't like it. Nothing blew up but- why the fuck had that been their job in the first place.

He and D remain undeterred, tossing a scoop to Locus while he snags a measuring cup. "I take it you don't want a body that can taste and detect the nuances of mouthfeel and texture and shit? Cuz that'll make it cheaper."

"Oh. That a threat? That's not very nice. Here I thought were all trying to get along, play happy family."

Felix snorted, folding his arms and settling in to watch the proceedings with a skeptical eye. Locus was content to ignore him, taking the scoop and digging out three healthy measurings of ice cream to go into the blender.

"Nah, genuine question. I know you want 'a body' and I can guess you probably want it to look like you, fine, I can swing that. I don't know what else you want involved in it. Sensation, scanners, speed, network jacks, etc. There's a whole wild world of hardware out there- and that's without digging into the more- uh. Raunchy stuff." Because of course fuckbots are kind of a thing. A niche thing, but a thing.

Why make sex toys that experience pleasure, he doesn't know, but hey. It's a thing.

"78.86 milliliters of milk, Taylor."

See, not hurting anyone.

"You just suck the joy out of everything."

Directed at Delta, obviously, before turning his gaze back to Taylor, scrutinizing. "So you're just trying to see where you can cut corners. I want my body back. Though if it's a little more badass than before, hey. Not gonna say no."

His eyes flicker towards Locus, who seems to know. Glances his way just as he starts to speak again, his expression impassive.

"Gotta say, though. Current set-up's getting pretty comfortable. Maybe I'll just hang for a while."

"And that is all I will be sucking."

Taylor rolls his eyes, pours the required amount to the milliliter and adds it along with the chocolate syrup to the blender. "No, I just want to know what you want so I can get it. You might suddenly decide food's for losers or whatever. I don't know."

Tex had been odd but he's not thinking about her for a number of reasons.

At that little nudge though, Taylor's head swings around, brows going up. Huh. "Well. If that's what you both want. Otherwise the plan's not changing."

"No, I think measuring out milk down to the milliliter is dumb. You throw stuff in until it tastes good. I might be a computer program, but that doesn't mean I don't know how to make a goddamn shake."

It had been idle complaint at first. However, once he'd gotten Taylor's attention? Oh, he couldn't help but twist. After all, they were getting so close, so cute and domestic. It bore reminding that unless the plan actually succeeded? He wasn't going anywhere.

"Wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, would it? Still work great together, don't we?"

"We're not talking about this," Locus replies sharply, shoulders going stiff. "Drop it."

Edited 2016-11-10 04:44 (UTC)

Know what's great for covering up unwanted conversation? The sound of a blender. Sam says drop it and Taylor slaps a lid on and revs it up, ignoring the bristling irritation on Sam's behalf that Delta stews in. Yes Felix is annoying. Yes they're stuck with him.

But they got a plan and they'll figure out the rest, right? Right. So for now he'll focus on the mundane shit and introducing the mundane shit to Sam to keep him, well. Sam. Instead of letting him slip back to Locus. "Grab two glasses?"

Without hesitation he moves to retrieve them as asked, while Felix falls silent for a moment, arms folded and looking slightly sulky at the rebuff. He just has to find a way, dig at him a little more. Preferably without Taylor around.

But Taylor's always fucking around.

The glasses clink as they make their way onto the counter. "It all just...goes in together, then?" he finally manages, eager to steer the conversation back on track rather than let Felix derail it.

"Yep. Pretty simple." Three ingredients, tasty stuff comes from it. Taylor shuts off the blender and pops the lid, pouring it carefully into one glass, then the other. It takes a little jiggling of the pitcher to get it to actually flow out- which is deal. Just thick enough. "Awesome. There was a place back home when I was a kid that made whoever was on shake duty flip it upside down over their head before serving it. Fuckups weren't pretty."

Reason he learned the ideal ratio pretty goddamn quick as a teen, working there. Two straws plunked in and that's it. Milkshakes. "Go ahead."

Even without a preference for sweet things, he can tell from the first sip that this is good. Honestly. It's simple, fresh, and just the right texture. So he imagines, at any rate, before taking another sip with a pleased hum.

Felix, meanwhile, has gotten bored with the display. Rolling his eyes, he winks over to a nearby monitor instead.

Taylor smiles and bumps their shoulders together, sipping on his own. Perfectly creamy, simple, and just sweet enough. Fantastic.

The monitor, well. Has schematics for Felix's body on display. The basic frame, a breakdown of the wiring for sensory nerves, a scattering of photos from which to pull his facial structure, color of his hair, his eyes, his skin. The eyes in particular have their own little window where Taylor had been meticulously looking at different decorative filaments that would function as his iris. "Design stage is....I wanna say 85% complete? I'll have the rest of it knocked out by the end of tomorrow. Then it's all parts and manufacturing."

Felix lets out a whistle. "You take this shit seriously, don't you? Damn," he murmurs, seemingly impressed despite himself. Well well. Maybe Taylor over there is as good as his word.

Which doesn't mean he plans on letting go that quickly.

"Of course, you're keeping me around for the fun missions. Right partner?" He glances back with a smirk as Locus lowers his shake, frowning.

But he doesn't deny it, either.

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