[ There’s a chance she’s saying shit just to say it, playing reckless to gauge his reaction. Equally possible is that she’s serious and a good enough shot to avoid the obvious damage of a ricochet in a place that’s all metal and angles. Carver gives her a narrow look, calculating, but he doesn’t stop her.
He does what he said, though, and either disarms or motions her away from the traps he’s set; there are a number of them, in varying degrees of severity and paranoia. And then they’re at the bottom and in the space proper.
Overall, it looks almost the same—just cleaner. He’s found a cot and a corner in one of the side rooms, the bed neatly made like he actually sleeps there. In truth he’s selected a closet and he sleeps with his space guns on the floor, where it’ll take a second for the enemy to find him.
There are no humanizing touches. Everything remains rigidly ordered, and cleaned within an inch of its life. He even scrubbed the windows on the subway car. ]
Like I said. I don’t like surprises. And Shaw’d be pissed if I had to scrape you off the floor.
no subject
He does what he said, though, and either disarms or motions her away from the traps he’s set; there are a number of them, in varying degrees of severity and paranoia. And then they’re at the bottom and in the space proper.
Overall, it looks almost the same—just cleaner. He’s found a cot and a corner in one of the side rooms, the bed neatly made like he actually sleeps there. In truth he’s selected a closet and he sleeps with his space guns on the floor, where it’ll take a second for the enemy to find him.
There are no humanizing touches. Everything remains rigidly ordered, and cleaned within an inch of its life. He even scrubbed the windows on the subway car. ]
Like I said. I don’t like surprises. And Shaw’d be pissed if I had to scrape you off the floor.