"...that doesn't exactly sound good for the people living there." Not his problem, he shouldn't poke at it.
And yet, this is the same fuck that had the Director so paranoid in the past few months. The same guy poking at the corpse of the Project. There may or may not be a connection worth investigating. Maybe.
"He wanted you to nudge that shit along, didn't he?" One side or the other would leave survivors. Poking both ends would have them wiping themselves out, plausible enough deniability, leaving an empty planet to claim afterward. Some of what he'd picked up before makes sense now.
Locus's eyes narrow slightly, watching as York pieced it together. Naturally. Puzzles were his specialty, were they not? "He did. It would have provided a great deal of money, as well as an abundance of hunting. But I wanted no part in it."
And without someone by his side to convince him otherwise, he turned his back on what could have been a very lucrative contract.
"Doesn't mean he didn't find someone with fewer scruples to get the job done." The goal had been fuck with accounts- but it'd been a nebulous grouping of corporations. Having one in particular to aim at? Works a little better.
"...I believe he might have done so, yes. It would have been more beneficial to have two working in tandem, but he took what he could get."
Locus's eyes shift away as he straightens, moving towards the other end of the room to pour himself a drink. It won't do anything for the hunger, but sometimes old habits worked to some benefit.
"I'm gonna need to get my armor patched up sooner rather than later, I think. And get those network modules." See if he can't stop that shit before it wipes out a whole goddamn planet because-
Seriously, did they not get enough of that shit with the Covenant?
There's a faint tink, and the sound of pouring liquid from the other side of the room, the smell of whiskey hitting the air as it fell into a glass provided to them by the staff. He pauses for a moment, considering his words.
"If you can avoid personally going to Chorus, do so."
"I'm not about to make myself a one man army." As easy as that might be, honestly, he knows better. That's how you get killed. "But it's kinda hard to fund that sort of operation if you're broke."
And he can make Hargrove bankrupt in a fucking hurry with proper incentive.
That, he has no issue with. There a faint nod of understanding before he tips the glass back.
No nourishment at all, but reflexive all the same. The glass turns slowly in his hands.
"Keep off the ground, if it can be helped. If you attack his accounts, doubtlessly it will prove more effective in crippling him than attempting to root out his shill."
"I don't even have to be near the planet in question, or him, to get this done. You know that, right?" He tips his head in Locus' direction, brows lifted. "It's all lines of code and network access. I just need somewhere to jack in that won't set off alarmbells and a few hours."
Then, bye bye trust fund. Or. Whatever the fuck all Charon's got going. Probably a few shell companies but hey, he did give himself a few hours. "...Wait we can actually drink booze? How about coffee?"
Ah good. A distraction from the subject matter at hand. The corner of Locus's mouth raises slightly as he returns to York's side, watching his work a little more closely. "If you like. It's for the taste more than anything."
"We can't get drunk anymore, can we?" Just to clarify. Not that he'll need that social lubrication anymore now that he's apparently the hottest shit ever- still. Good to know if he's ever feeling particularly prone to maudlin behaviour.
"No. We can get a sense of it, if our meal for the evening has had a great deal to drink. But it wouldn't be quite the same."
And he offers the glass, tipping it in York's direction briefly. Go on. Try it and see for yourself. No better way to feel out all the new nuances of their condition.
York accepts it without further question, taking a light sip. Every little oaken, smokey detail he'd been able to vaguely grasp as a human? Magnified tenfold now that everything was that much sharper. Another one of those roughly indecent moans twists out of him as he licks his lips, offering it back.
"Noted. I'm gonna have to get good at making it. spend enough time on the front and any coffee becomes good coffee." But this? This is...a little closer to luxury than he'd ever thought to get. And here he is with someone that's got good reason to stick around and is stupidly attractive-
Stupidly smart. Right. Smart, not. Attractive. Not looking at his lips while he smiles at all, nope. Back to the puzzles.
There's little point in denying the obvious when they've already had an encounter together, tonight. Obviously there's some attraction there. But if York's turning a blind eye to the matter, he won't press.
Instead, he finds his seat once more, there to drink and observe as York goes about solving his puzzles.
He works until yet again he clears the whole program in record time, delta compiling data for future puzzles. A more complex series of holographic shapes flares up long enough to give him pause before he begins flicking through them, humming under his breath. "So...we hunt, we work, what do you do for fun?"
"For fun," he repeats, looking slightly skeptical of the idea. Of course he knows what fun is, what it is to find enjoyment in leisure activities. It's just not often a thing he seeks out. At most, he looks for ways not to be bored.
"Reading. Pool, when there is a facility available nearby. Target practice."
There's no telling with his tone if he's joking or not.
"...target practice is fun?" He didn't get that when north said it, sure as shit won't when Locus says it. "Pool I'm alright at, reading...depends on what you got. I'm more a social hobby kinda guy but I guess that's out of the question now, huh?"
"As far as anything long-term might go. You're more than able to go socialize if you feel like it, so long as you're appropriately cautious about it. We don't need to wear out our welcome here sooner than necessary."
But York's been hiding for long enough now he knows how to stay under the radar when need be. He's not terribly concerned.
"And yes. Target practice is enjoyable enough. Furthering one's skill is always gratifying. You enjoy your puzzles, do you not?"
"They're designed to scratch that addictive grinding itch in my brain, so yes." There aren't anymore programmed little rewards anymore cuz he took them out, just completing them is enough for him now. Still. "I guess I can see it."
It's just a very simple puzzle, Taylor. Bullet goes into target.
Those pale eyes narrow in consideration at his request. "I suppose there's no harm in it. There are pool halls around the city. If you find one to your liking, we could go."
There's a pause.
"It will be interesting to see if your new prowess conflicts with your renewed vision." Not having that eye all those years and then suddenly having it? Hard to say where his skill level would rest.
"You're giving me too much credit, I was shit at pool before I lost the eye too. It's all physics variables and angles." Shit for snipers or math people that don't work in solid constrains of code with known variables and variations. Still, it'll be fun.
"Who knows, though. Maybe I'll be more than decent." And he can bum around, sip on a good whiskey, and just. Be around people for a little bit.
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And yet, this is the same fuck that had the Director so paranoid in the past few months. The same guy poking at the corpse of the Project. There may or may not be a connection worth investigating. Maybe.
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But now his attention is honed in on his fledgling once more. He's concerned for them. He may want to investigate further, or intervene.
That will be...unfortunate.
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And without someone by his side to convince him otherwise, he turned his back on what could have been a very lucrative contract.
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Locus's eyes shift away as he straightens, moving towards the other end of the room to pour himself a drink. It won't do anything for the hunger, but sometimes old habits worked to some benefit.
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Seriously, did they not get enough of that shit with the Covenant?
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"If you can avoid personally going to Chorus, do so."
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And he can make Hargrove bankrupt in a fucking hurry with proper incentive.
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No nourishment at all, but reflexive all the same. The glass turns slowly in his hands.
"Keep off the ground, if it can be helped. If you attack his accounts, doubtlessly it will prove more effective in crippling him than attempting to root out his shill."
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Then, bye bye trust fund. Or. Whatever the fuck all Charon's got going. Probably a few shell companies but hey, he did give himself a few hours. "...Wait we can actually drink booze? How about coffee?"
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And he offers the glass, tipping it in York's direction briefly. Go on. Try it and see for yourself. No better way to feel out all the new nuances of their condition.
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"That's good whiskey, goddamn."
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The glass is retrieved, with a brief brush of his fingers in the process.
"I would suggest investing in good coffee."
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Stupidly smart. Right. Smart, not. Attractive. Not looking at his lips while he smiles at all, nope. Back to the puzzles.
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Instead, he finds his seat once more, there to drink and observe as York goes about solving his puzzles.
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"Reading. Pool, when there is a facility available nearby. Target practice."
There's no telling with his tone if he's joking or not.
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But York's been hiding for long enough now he knows how to stay under the radar when need be. He's not terribly concerned.
"And yes. Target practice is enjoyable enough. Furthering one's skill is always gratifying. You enjoy your puzzles, do you not?"
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A little.
Maybe.
"Wanna try pool tomorrow night?"
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Those pale eyes narrow in consideration at his request. "I suppose there's no harm in it. There are pool halls around the city. If you find one to your liking, we could go."
There's a pause.
"It will be interesting to see if your new prowess conflicts with your renewed vision." Not having that eye all those years and then suddenly having it? Hard to say where his skill level would rest.
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"Who knows, though. Maybe I'll be more than decent." And he can bum around, sip on a good whiskey, and just. Be around people for a little bit.
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