12-26-2024, 01:28 AM
Ryker flopped into the nearest chair with the kind of bone-deep exhaustion only a career in espionage could cultivate. His boots hit the floor with a dull thud as he leaned over to adjust the laces, fingers tugging at the knotted strings with the absentminded precision of someone who had done this a thousand times. Meanwhile, Nox was talking—still talking—dishing out advice about surveying the area: walk the paths, map the escape routes, scope out the best places to stash a body if things went south. You know, the usual.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryker muttered, not bothering to look up. “Walk the streets, know your exits, avoid stepping in anything that smells worse than a two-day-old corpse. Got it.”
Nox, unsurprisingly, kept going. Ryker stopped fiddling with his laces long enough to glance up, one eyebrow quirking in mild irritation. “Hey,” he cut in, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “I could survey this whole city while sitting on the shitter if I wanted to. Just slap a drone in the air, tap into a few feeds, maybe run a satellite scan if I’m feeling fancy. But,” he pointed at Nox, his tone pointed, “I don’t trust any eyes except my own. Never have, never will.”
He tugged his laces tight and sat back in the chair, his arms folding across his chest in a posture that managed to look both casual and vaguely combative. “Technology’s great and all, don’t get me wrong. But there’s nothing like breathing the smog, inhaling the delightful aroma of traffic fumes, and dodging the literal dog shit clumping up the curbs to get a real feel for a place. You know, a full sensory experience.” His lips twitched in the faintest shadow of a smirk as he added, “Also, pretty sure the satellites can’t tell you how soft the dirt is when need to start digging.”
Ryker let the comment hang in the air, his gaze shifting briefly to Nox. He still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the guy. Cocky, sure, but not an idiot. Too flashy for his taste, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t useful. Then there was Sage—Ryker’s eyes flicked toward him with a look that could best be described as skeptical. The kid (was he a kid?) had been drifting through the day like he’d spent the last twelve hours floating somewhere between dreamland and whatever was past dreamland.
“Speaking of dirt,” Ryker drawled, tipping his head slightly toward Sage. “What’s his deal?”
He made a vague gesture with his hand, as though trying to summarize all of Sage’s weirdness into one ambiguous motion. “Because I’ve been watching him shuffle around like he’s one bad nap away from trying to commune with the furniture.”
Ryker let his words linger, his eyes sharp and assessing as he glanced back toward Nox, waiting for a response. But then, as if the thought had just occurred to him, he added with a dry smile, “Also, while I am bragging, I clocked a pizza place earlier. Bet I could find it again with my incredible surveying skills. Can’t say the same for him, though.” He nodded vaguely in Sage’s direction, as if to underscore the point.
Sinking further into the chair, Ryker stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. He didn’t look particularly invested in whatever explanation Nox might give, but that was just his style—casual, detached, but never not paying attention. “Anyway, I’m all ears if you’ve got answers. I like knowing who I’m babysitting these days.”
And if they are a liability.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ryker muttered, not bothering to look up. “Walk the streets, know your exits, avoid stepping in anything that smells worse than a two-day-old corpse. Got it.”
Nox, unsurprisingly, kept going. Ryker stopped fiddling with his laces long enough to glance up, one eyebrow quirking in mild irritation. “Hey,” he cut in, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “I could survey this whole city while sitting on the shitter if I wanted to. Just slap a drone in the air, tap into a few feeds, maybe run a satellite scan if I’m feeling fancy. But,” he pointed at Nox, his tone pointed, “I don’t trust any eyes except my own. Never have, never will.”
He tugged his laces tight and sat back in the chair, his arms folding across his chest in a posture that managed to look both casual and vaguely combative. “Technology’s great and all, don’t get me wrong. But there’s nothing like breathing the smog, inhaling the delightful aroma of traffic fumes, and dodging the literal dog shit clumping up the curbs to get a real feel for a place. You know, a full sensory experience.” His lips twitched in the faintest shadow of a smirk as he added, “Also, pretty sure the satellites can’t tell you how soft the dirt is when need to start digging.”
Ryker let the comment hang in the air, his gaze shifting briefly to Nox. He still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the guy. Cocky, sure, but not an idiot. Too flashy for his taste, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t useful. Then there was Sage—Ryker’s eyes flicked toward him with a look that could best be described as skeptical. The kid (was he a kid?) had been drifting through the day like he’d spent the last twelve hours floating somewhere between dreamland and whatever was past dreamland.
“Speaking of dirt,” Ryker drawled, tipping his head slightly toward Sage. “What’s his deal?”
He made a vague gesture with his hand, as though trying to summarize all of Sage’s weirdness into one ambiguous motion. “Because I’ve been watching him shuffle around like he’s one bad nap away from trying to commune with the furniture.”
Ryker let his words linger, his eyes sharp and assessing as he glanced back toward Nox, waiting for a response. But then, as if the thought had just occurred to him, he added with a dry smile, “Also, while I am bragging, I clocked a pizza place earlier. Bet I could find it again with my incredible surveying skills. Can’t say the same for him, though.” He nodded vaguely in Sage’s direction, as if to underscore the point.
Sinking further into the chair, Ryker stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. He didn’t look particularly invested in whatever explanation Nox might give, but that was just his style—casual, detached, but never not paying attention. “Anyway, I’m all ears if you’ve got answers. I like knowing who I’m babysitting these days.”
And if they are a liability.