[ But no, Reno's right and he should say it. He watches him over the rim of his piss-water beer with a glimmer of giddiness in those eerie blues of his, even going as far as to wink until the Turk looks back down at the camera. Thankfully(?) there's nothing overly salacious to be seen. A shit-ton of shots from places he had no business being, stupid selfies with less-than-legal street racing in the background, other selfies where he's actively in the lineup, progress shots of the bike that don't really look like much of anything, some stray cat (looks like grandma, the fuckin' thing), and of course... Wall Market. Can't forget those nights, right? Obviously Roche couldn't either given the myriad pictures of himself with his arm slung around various people that look like they belong in a gang rather than in the company of a SOLDIER, and plenty of them even include too-friendly cheek and/or temple smooches.
There's hardly any with other SOLDIERs. ]
You'll never catch me in a First-class uniform if it helps, by the way. I'm sure the perks are nice and glamourous but I'll pass on anything that takes me off of the road. A few have tried to recommend me for Second but that's always before they know how much of a handful I am, and if they're persistent enough after the fact I've always turned it down.
[ A beat, and then Roche drops his gaze to a few gouge marks on the table. He picks at one for a few moments, then sets his mug down almost on top of it. ]
And between you and I? I have no real desire to spend days on end in a tank full of mako because of some ridiculous promotion. If you think it smells terrible as you are now...
[ One finger taps the side of his own nose. Hell on a SOLDIER's senses. ]
Why ruin a good thing when I can keep up with them the way I am now?
no subject
[ But no, Reno's right and he should say it. He watches him over the rim of his piss-water beer with a glimmer of giddiness in those eerie blues of his, even going as far as to wink until the Turk looks back down at the camera. Thankfully(?) there's nothing overly salacious to be seen. A shit-ton of shots from places he had no business being, stupid selfies with less-than-legal street racing in the background, other selfies where he's actively in the lineup, progress shots of the bike that don't really look like much of anything, some stray cat (looks like grandma, the fuckin' thing), and of course... Wall Market. Can't forget those nights, right? Obviously Roche couldn't either given the myriad pictures of himself with his arm slung around various people that look like they belong in a gang rather than in the company of a SOLDIER, and plenty of them even include too-friendly cheek and/or temple smooches.
There's hardly any with other SOLDIERs. ]
You'll never catch me in a First-class uniform if it helps, by the way. I'm sure the perks are nice and glamourous but I'll pass on anything that takes me off of the road. A few have tried to recommend me for Second but that's always before they know how much of a handful I am, and if they're persistent enough after the fact I've always turned it down.
[ A beat, and then Roche drops his gaze to a few gouge marks on the table. He picks at one for a few moments, then sets his mug down almost on top of it. ]
And between you and I? I have no real desire to spend days on end in a tank full of mako because of some ridiculous promotion. If you think it smells terrible as you are now...
[ One finger taps the side of his own nose. Hell on a SOLDIER's senses. ]
Why ruin a good thing when I can keep up with them the way I am now?