...I think you've been so purpose-driven for so long that you've forgotten that you're a human being worth preserving too, not some sort of machine.
An amalgam of terrible experiences has programmed you into the life you've led; God knows I echo that sentiment, given the workaholic I've become; but that doesn't mean that you don't get to have time to yourself. Here and there, it's healthy. Even I take a few weeks off in a year, go to Maui, or someplace quiet. You don't have to retire; honestly, I think you'd be miserable if you did. However, taking a step back for a short period of time to discover who you are outside of this f***ery would be right up your alley. Provided you don't drink the days away, that is. Your poor liver can only take so much torment before it explodes.
"This line of work doesn't produce any heroes," says the hero. Hard decisions are pretty much the requirement for any form of one. But you're the military man.
Anyway...
Yeah—Mondo's is still a thing. Last we went was...five years ago? Time flies. They went through a bit of a weird stint for a while, but they managed to wiggle through with most of their business intact. And don't worry about Jill. She's rough around the edges with things she's passionate about, and I'm sure you've butted heads more often than you can count at this point in your relationship, but she's always been good people. Whatever you've done, she'll forgive you, I'm sure. I see her more often than you these days, and we talk enough about where you are and how you've been doing enough to know she truly cares about you.
Either way, I'm good to go whenever you can get that leave. Higher-ups have been waiting for me to log in this year's vacation time. I've been postponing however long I can to get in touch with you.
...come on, big brother—I'm the baddie? Really? That's hysterical. Maybe when I was a stupid kid. But you realize that most of the sh*t I've gotten into to get where I am in life today has primarily been because of you, right? Not that you're to blame, or at least not entirely. I still think a lot of nasty situations could have been avoided by you simply answering the goddamn phone, but I'm clearly not such a sucker for creating it for myself. Just looking out for the family. I will, however, admit that sometimes the terrible end of circumstances beyond my control often have a habit of finding me, but we'll not waste time discussing the lengths to which I have also gone through hell. It always puts a bad taste in my mouth.
Maybe the red tape isn't exactly a byproduct of numbness, as you say. Maybe it's something else. If B.S.A.A. is having problems, it'll start up top.
Corruption can invade even the noblest causes, Chris; look at what Niel Fisher did to us. We're still cleaning up the mess he left behind, still patching up the holes in our reputation, which will likely never recover in full. Much of our support jumped ship just days after the Sejm Island Incident, and I still feel like we haven't weeded out all the nutcases who supported selling out their own coworkers, even years later. Or kept a good eye on the pharmaceutical giants that are supposed to be helping us with vaccine construction. There's always that unease and lack of trust, knives in the dark everywhere. It's getting exhausting trying to uncloak them all.
I like to think mom and dad would be proud of both of us, wherever they are. Worried, but proud. I'm sure this isn't exactly the life they envisioned for us, but we've made the best of it, all things considered. Besides: dad at least always had a strong sense of justice. In that way, you pretty much shine.
The sound of fresh blowing air sounded from the parted window in the corner. The white drapes flicking gently upon the breeze and tickled the exposed face of the male nestled on the flat of the mattress. The sound of traffic getting heavier by the hour had suggested that it was time for work - there was no sun to be seen either. The usual UV rays warm and welcoming to those waking up had been shrouded by an ashen overcast creating more of a gloomy morning as it just so happened to be that exactly for the one who had sought refuge in the crummy motel - a halfway point for his final destination. He was to meet with one other on an assignment that required his immediate attention. Leon was always eager to aid those in need, and over the years his ambition had taken him far and wide across the world to be on the front lines of bio attacks. This time he had been on the road for a total of 12 hours; an eyelid parted slowly to unveil a green orb that peered out into the window partially closed by the curtains. Slowly he motioned himself across the mattress so that his legs hung over the edge of the bed. The soles of his bare feet touched the carpet hairs bringing an instant soothing sensation to the balls of his feet. Leon lifted a hand up through his dirty blond hair, each one cast to the side of his visage to conceal a single side of his complexion.
Leon tensed his thighs before lifting himself up from the mattress, the sounds of early morning Cicada's sounded from the opening of his window separated only by a screen from the outside world. Sadly the spot that he had chosen was just a few miles outside of the Boston International airport. The soles of his feet patted upon the floor on his way over toward the sofa, and he lowered his posture down into the foamy cushion of the motel sofa. He reached a hand over to grip his socks and tugged each one over his foot and halfway up his shin. Next had come a pair of all purpose terrain shoes, feet filling the interiors of his shoes. He made sure the laces were nice and firm before applying a secured knot over each of his boots to lock them properly over his feet. Suddenly his focus had upturned to the sound of loud engine pistons that sped by the view of his window. He didn't catch the vehicle in the act, but he knew that it was likely too early for that kinda nonsense. That was the cop in him; He fit his arms through the sleeves of his jacket and patted each polyester sleeve down to make sure that the coat nestled properly over his form. Once he was dressed for the journey ahead, he reached a hand down to the carrying handle of his rolling suitcase. An extra change of clothes, as well as some necessities, were tucked inside. The agent grabbed the room keys, and made his way over toward the door he used to get in. He took a final glance at the room interior and was about halfway down the sidewalk taking in the sounds around him in full circle - everything hitting him at once. Leon felt his phone vibrate against his hip, and he reached in to bring up the screen which displayed "I miss you.." The words had brought a small grunt from his lips, followed by a soothing smile. He tapped his thumbs against the screen to type back. "I miss you too."
Leon knew that this was what he was good at, but he would've resulted to drinking a long time ago if it wasn't for the supportive people that he had in his life. He inserted the phone into the slit of his denim pants pocket and continued to drag the wheels of his suitcase down the path on his way toward his jeep. The soles of his boots clacking softly upon the concrete pavement, as he passed partially into the parking lot on the passenger back seat. A light chime sounded from the jeep, and the back door lock had popped. A hand reached into the handle to pull it open and the bag was tossed into the back seat. Once he had secured his luggage, he shut the door and pressed his thumb on the 'lock' function of the key. The front yellow headlights flashing once to indicate that the vehicle was secured. Leon rounded the front from the right side of his new jeep and started down the path toward the managers' office. He jiggled the handle of the door and walked inside with a knock. "Hey, checking out.." Leon announced with the key coming to rest on the polished front counter desk. Moments later an elderly man walked out from the back, and Leon presented the man with a smile before he reached into his black wallet to retrieve a set of '20s. The bills fanned out into his palm and then handed to the man. "have a good day, sir. Thank you for choosing the Boston motel." Leon inserted his palm into the male's hand. "Take care.." Leon said before he folded his wallet back, and fit it into his rear denim pocket. The agent walked back out of the front lobby and started back toward his vehicle. The hairs on the side of his complexion drifted gently along with the breeze that greeted him, and back over toward his jeep. His thumb reaching into his pocket to press the unlock button his key, and the jeep chimed once to indicate that the jeep was unlocked.
Leon didn't know what he would expect exactly, just that he would be provided with a special airline toward his destination. The agents would greet him just beyond the security gate at the runway; He was also told to bring a change of clothes for his stay over seas, and that his mission would involve a partner which they had chosen to keep anonymous until they were to meet face to face; Leon stepped up into his jeep, and fit the key in the ignition. His fingers twisting the key until the engine roared to life. His leg vibrated once more, and he reached in to glance down at his brightly lit screen. "Take care of yourself out there. x" Leon felt a warm pulse from his torso, and another smile formed on his hairless tiers. He slid the phone back into his pocket and knew that he had a reason to make it back alive. He reached his hand up to the shifter and pulled it into the R function. The jeep rolled back crackling upon the pebbles of the pavement. He set the gear shift to the D function and the jeep pulled forward; The sounds of Linkin Park had filled the interior of the car, one of his favorite bands with the song "Numb". He felt the need to say and turned the dial to increase the volume. He pulled out into a vacant lane in between the cars and passed through intersecting vehicles on his way to the airport. They all had a similar destination he suspected, and very likely one other.
Leon had finally made it to the airport and pulled into the security side gate. Stopping just short of the steel fence that halted him from going any further. "Can I help you, sir?" Leon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a black leather identification wallet. He popped it open to unveil his necessary clearance of a DSO agent, and the guard gestured his head within a nod before the gate slowly parted to let him through. The tires of his jeep were met with the free road ahead, nothing blocking his path for miles - just wide open street that was his to travel on - he was even tempted to put on a poison song and speed down the runway while obnoxiously singing out the lyrics. as he did so. But he was here on business and matters that required his immediate attention. So he followed the path of the airport until he had arrived in front of a custom Boeing 727-30 aircraft. That was it, no real brand on it either - federal transport; He parked his jeep right next to the neatly lined up black SUV's and pushed his shoulder on the frame of the driver-side door. Once opened he was greeted with the nourishing tingle of that cold northern breeze. He stepped out onto the runway and reached into the backseat to retrieve his carry-on luggage. The bag small enough to hold exactly what he needed, and when he spotted the two agents waiting for him at the tops of the stairs. Leon had stopped short of the stairs and pushed the handle of his bag back down into the luggage. He curled his fingers into the handle of the bag and ascended up until he heard "Agent Kennedy, welcome aboard." He latched his fingers into the senior agent's appendage and shook it firmly. Leon was greeted with several things, the wide-open interior of the plane, several gun racks fitted with the latest in American military firepower, and Chris Redfield. The S.T.A.R.S survivor from the spencer estate.
"Scolding you periodically is pretty much a sisterly requirement.
I remember when we used to talk every other night; now, I'm lucky to get my punches in a few times year. I know work and life are all-consuming, and I've even come to terms with the fact that you're often getting yourself into more dire circumstances than anyone has a right (and you think I'm the troublemaker). However, I wouldn't be family if I didn't worry. Less, if I didn't miss hanging out with you. It's great to hear from you now.
Mondo's is still open; maybe we could figure out dinner at some point (as long as you're buying, that is. Honestly, I'd grow broke feeding you). Bring Jill, too, if you've kept in touch; it's been a while since I've seen her. And yes, Chris—I still go to the gun range on the reg. Even if I'm mostly a humanitarian these days, I can't exactly afford not to with what's happened since.
I know you'll teach those new recruits to be strong. Just remember that they have a voice, too. You can be domineering at times, though I know it's only because you're seeking the best outcome. It's a cause that's always worth fighting for, so never doubt yourself on that bit.
On my end, things are...hectic. People within and without are constantly trying to rip us apart through one means or another. Might move on if our motives become too corrupted by those influences. Niel Fisher was only the tip of the iceberg.
I guess I'll roll with the flow until that time comes."
OOC
Your writing doesn't seem rusty to me! I enjoyed your sample. Hoping to read more. But yes, plotting out a story would be wonderful, and banter is fun. I need more folks for sarcastic repartee; it boosts the muse.
If you have anything in mind, I'd love to hear it.
—you know that rectangular thing you sometimes keep in your pocket?
It's called a phone.
You should use it to call me from time to time—or, hell, swing by for a visit. Letting me know how you're doing in this f***ed-up world is the least of many things that would kill you."
OOC
I really appreciate the add and look forward to writing with you in the future, should that ever interest you. Feel free to shoot me a message anytime you feel like plotting, or even just to chit-chat. Bantering is also nice. I also have discord, if you find that an easier way to communicate.
In the meantime, take care. Have fun. Keep on keeping the verse alive!
