anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue Voicetesting Thread

"What would you suggest?" His brow furrows once again, as he reaches for the milkshake in order to polish it off.

Felix, meanwhile, shifts. Shrugs. "I know we're all stuck in this until we work out something better, yeah? I know where my best bet is. I'm sticking with it. That, you can trust."

"We can't leave him unsupervised around the network, communications, or data hubs but- he's gonna get his own body, right? Unless he wants to learn how to walk again it might not be a bad idea to let him drive and run through the training ops." Just. Something to throw himself into. "I'll find a low risk job we need to do to fuck up Charon, you both go in and...we'll see how you work as a team."

Which'll end really well, really poorly, but D's already on the other end, working Felix. "It would take training to adjust. Thus far you have been able to work independently- collaborating for your work on Brandon is significantly different than encountering an enemy in the field."

"So pull up a training simulation. No risk, right?"

They'd be within the confines of their base, and they'd be able to contain him if necessary. Which, yeah, he's already stated he's not going to pull anything while they're watching, not with a body on the line.

Locus, meanwhile, appears to be considering. "...it would get him to stop complaining for a while, at least."

"Ask Locus. Taylor has just broached the subject with him and he does appear open to the idea." Sharing a brain can allow for some wicked social multitasking on occasion. "I am certain he would be happy to agree."

"And let you work out more often. I know you've been getting twitchy since I've benched you." For their mutual good, but. Sam needs a project just like Felix. Maybe if he'd had one he wouldn't have made one out of Brandon. Maybe.

"Happy, huh?" Felix squinted at Delta before turning back towards the couple. "Hey Locs. What do you think? You and me, figure how we can seriously mess up some of Hargrove's goons. You in or what?"

Locus considers. He does miss the action, the thrill of fighting. Taylor's not entirely wrong on that count. "...it could be mutually beneficial," he agrees, after a moment.

Edited 2016-11-12 06:13 (UTC)

"I'll rig up one of the basic sims to start." Taylor leans up to press a kiss to Locus' cheek, detaching himself to wander to the console, shake in hand. Not a nap but it's something that needs doing and he isn't dying for sleep.

'Basic Sim' means platforms, hard light targets, moving sentries, and turrets. You know. Baby steps. "With or without the armor?"

"Without, for now." He needs to ensure he can trust working Felix in an aggressive manner, and the AI rolls his eyes.

"Whatever. We'll do just fine with or without." And in a blink, he's returned to Locus's shoulder, before vanishing. There's a flash of orange across the back of Locus's eyes, and it looks like they're set.

"Got it." Parameters adjusted- mostly the force of the turrets, the height and distance between platforms- and the sim fires up. FLISS reads off the objectives- eliminate all targets, stealth preferable, capture the package, leave.

Taylor settles back at the main console observing while the cat (not-francis) curls on his lap.

This was the time to shine. To show just how well he could work with Locus, in ways Taylor could never dream of. All the joking dropped aside, calculations were quickly made, and as the initial countdown began, he let himself settle in along the long spread of nerves. No fucking around, Locus. Just let me in. Trust me.

A tall order. But Taylor would be able to take him down out of the armor if necessary, surely.

The sim began, and Locus began to move. Reaction times? Shaved down to a fine point. He was hoisting himself up, balance perfectly poised as he made his way overhead, before positioning over his first target.

Here. Let me drive.

For a moment, it looks like he's suddenly passed out, arching back and falling from the beam...but a second later he's flipping about to land as graceful as a cat on his feet, absolutely silent, and in the next he's got the target's head between his hands, snapping its next and swiftly moving on to the next.

Ok that-

That's a new move. Taylor's eye tracks the flip, flicking through camera feeds for objective points and targets and, damn. Locus wouldn't have done that on his own. Silent and efficient, yes. An economy of movement that could be considered graceful-

But that? That had been pure fucking poetry.

in the back of his head Delta's taking notes for, well, whatever reason as the next Target rounds the corner, oblivious.

Locus tends towards brutality, Felix towards agility and speed. What happens when you combine those two.

Apparently sweeping low to swipe the target's legs out from under him, rising up, and planting an elbow into the target's throat, driving them back down to the ground with fluid efficiency. That done, he's already on the move again, climbing up for a new vantage point to sneak towards the objective.

Now within sight.

A brutal ballet, apparently. Something that is as horrifying as arousing and maybe he needs to analyze why it is he is always so damn attracted to competence and legality-

But he's too busy flicking up more targets and adjusting parameters. Upping the difficulty by inches, gradually. Seeing how they handle the rest.

New data is being run through his head at an incredible speed, too much to process himself. But allowing Felix the freedom to assist in his movement is letting that information be put to use in adjusting his movements, and he's never felt the sort of synchrony he feels now.

It's no longer easy. But he's keeping out of sight, he's managing to continue to take them down, and the two of them feel--

It's satisfying. Beyond words. He's been benched for a while now, and Brandon hadn't been a mission in the traditional sense. Whatever he thinks of Felix, when he lets down his guard and they're working together? He's enjoying this.

Targets start dropping like flies and the objective? Sealed behind a lock. Not something overly complicated- but not something Sam could swing on his own easily. Something to challenge Felix while the timer picks away. Something to switch gears from the usual infiltration and elimination.

They're good together in that, synced up well- but what about when Felix has to focus elsewhere?

The lock. It means splitting focus, but it doesn't mean leaving Locus alone.

He's still getting that information, but parred down to what he needs, short-hand commands and cues that are second-nature. Throwing him against a target while darting away to work on the lock, confident that he'll be able to take it down on his own, shooting back in time to give him the needed boost to ramp his way up over the next obstacle and counter the target closing in on their flank.

Trust him to take care of the combatant still standing, move back to the lock, pick up where he left off. Decipher it, pick it apart. He hasn't had the opportunity to do this as much before now, but he knows now. Numbers and sequences are what he's made of. He can immerse himself long enough to crack the code, before rushing back.

Go for the payload.

Locus has broken the neck of the last target, or the last closest to them, before making his way towards the lock, the combination ringing in the back of his mind. Twist, turn, manipulate, and the code cracks. The lock opens.

Now, to escape.

Internal synchronization stable- nothing looks like it's going off the rails. It's a concern, of course it's a concern- but they don't seem to be overheating or losing track of each other. If anything the longer they're at it? The more in synch they become. It's-

Well it reminds Taylor a little of himself and Delta finding their feet without the limitation of having to mind his blind side. If D were a full AI... He lets that thought go, focusing on offering multiple paths out with moving variables- turrets, sensors to avoid. Objective in hand they've got options, each with a pro and a con. Felix has all the time in the world, comparatively, to find one that'll work.

It takes effort. But not nearly the time it might have taken him otherwise. He knows what Locus's strengths are, inside and out. All they need to do is stay on the move.

They're silent, throughout. All communication appears to be internal as Locus makes for the exit. Take the sensors, use his enhanced reaction time to avoid the timed bursts and maneuver. Avoiding conflict isn't always his sensibility, but he has to trust that Felix knows what they need to do.

There's no arguing, no question. They have that working on their side, and the results are damn near seamless. They're almost home free.

Taylor's got half a mind to let them end the scenario- objective complete, targets eliminated, they've got a clear path. Delta-

Slightly more critical. enough to throw an errant flashbang in that particular corridor that has Taylor swearing under his breath. Seriously, D, dick move-

Reactions to unexpected variables is key to their missions and, well. Seeing how they handle this? Not entirely unwarranted.

Locus has just enough warning to turn his head, but his head still pounds in the wake of the explosion, his vision swimming. The sensors are still up, still moving, little red lines shifting through the corridor.

Felix curses. Loudly. And demands control once more. Locus doesn't need to see when he can.

He barely dodges the scanning swipe of one of the floor sensors, twisting to get his feet up against the wall and kicking off, bounding forward. Duck, tumble, leap to avoid another and twist, before landing on his toes and bolting forward. Eyes closed. No need to rely on something that can't be relied upon, especially if Felix already has the exit mapped. Just follow those cues and...

Out they come, landing in a crouch. Locus is panting, shaking his head and disoriented as all Hell, but they made it.

Okay that was- pretty damn amazing. Not bad for a first showing, five kinds of hot and only slightly disturbing. Not near enough to discourage Taylor from shutting down the sim as FLISS analyzes the data of Sam's run alongside Delta and vaulting over his console to crouch in front of him.

Just to check, one hand on his, their, shoulder, squeezing gently. "I think that was your best time yet."

Technically it's Felix's only time but- for Sam? Green improvements across the board.

That orange backglow to his eyes is still there when his head lifts, and the world starts to right itself. Taylor. The simulation is complete. They did well.

That's all that matters. Felix appears more than smug, and it's his smirk that tugs across Locus's face before the two of them move to stand.

"It will certainly come in handy when it's time to go back into the field."

That's- a new look. Not a Sam look, something he'd seen in the few video feeds of Felix without his helmet. Taylor didn't often take on Delta's expressions or gestures simply due to an extreme lack- but there are moments when his posture shifts, when his head cants in a memory that is neither his nor D's.

At the moment? Doesn't matter. The glow doesn't matter, the smirk doesn't matter- Sam's not got a migraine and that's excuse enough to hook a hand around the nape of his neck, palm pressed tight to that thrumming, glowing implant where Felix is- and pull Sam down to slam their lips together.

Self control. Not his strong suit.

The response is instant.

Locus's hand lifts to curl at the base of Taylor's skull, an exact mirror to Taylor's own grip, and he's kissing him back. They are kissing him, the divide shaky at best, but the rush is so high that neither are inclined to back down.

And Felix has been curious for some time now. So if this is what Taylor wants? Time to bring it. And his free hand slips boldly downward to curl against the front of Taylor's pants.

That exercise had an effect, did it?

Delta makes some kind of noise about this being ill advised while Felix and Locus are so tightly intertwined but- Taylor's preoccupied with the bite to the kiss,the hand slipping down to his sweats. Every time he watches Sam work a sim or work in the field there's a reaction. All that power, all that discipline-

His.

It's a weird little rush and this time? It's almost as good as a post mission twist in his gut. Teeth drag across his bottom lip, hands sliding under his shirt to find skin as he grinds his hips into Sam's hand, more than a little half hard and utterly shameless.

I've done well. He's pleased. He always gets this way when we do well...

Kinky little shit. Think we should give him what he wants, then?

It happens quickly. Locus draws out of that kiss enough to peel his shirt away, and then they're sinking down to rest on their knees in front of him, hand still grasping the front of his sweatpants.

"Is this what you want?" It's not quite the usual tone Locus takes, that measure of caution beforehand. There's a touching of something teasing, almost mocking there, before he rocks forward, mouthing him through the fabric.

It's not permission for where to take this. They've already decided where it needs to.

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