Take Two, Part I

[sixthiteration]

WHO: Take Two I participants
WHERE: Everywhere!
WHEN: February 26-March 4
OPEN TO: ONLY Take Two participants — Reactions to the disappearances should have their own posts.
WARNINGS: Please warn in your subject line as needed
NOTES: Plot Basics | Cheat Sheet & Other Details | Color Combos

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Morning, February 26. A message blinks across the devices of many in the village, sender unknown. Meet with a specified someone else, it says, dubious but not overtly sinister. Is this belated Valentine's matchmaking? An Observer attempt at forcing friendships?

Or could this perhaps be something that takes just a wee bit more effort?

Comments

[notyourrookie]

“It’s okay. You won’t live to see it. Your time was what... five? Six hundred years ago?” Unless he’s some kind of immortal, which, to be fair, he would not put completely out of the question in a place like this. Who knows what kind of fucked up shit there is. “And Like it sounds. Plasma bombardment from orbit. Hot enough to turn the planet’s surface to glass.” No one was going to survive that.

He definitely sounds like an insurrectionist. Something to watch out for.

He starts off after the other man, settling into a steady pace. This he can do without problems. “I doubt you would,” he agrees. He knows what matters. Survival and revenge. Everything else is... fake.

[relentlessness]

"Well then, good for me," he says, though he can't help but to try and imagine what that would mean to assassins in that time, if the Brotherhood continues to survive that long. He will assume they do though. "I'm sorry it's what your life has come to," he says with a glance at him, considering what that means for the world, for those that come here from that time.

"Then good. We're both on the same page. Find whatever these are, and return with them. Look at that. Agreement. Who would have thought," he says, definitely baiting now for his own amusement. He just can't help himself.

[notyourrookie]

Sorry? Wash shrugs. "The war's been going my entire life," he says like it isn't a big thing. It is a big thing. The biggest thing. But it's also just... normal. Hard to feel like it's a big thing when it's the background noise of every day of your life. It was weird to think that there would be kids born now where that wasn't normal.

He ignores the baiting. For now. "What even if this shit?" He's never heard of most of it. He doesn't see what use it can be. It isn't weapons. It isn't medical equipment or vehicles or supplies. Seems like wasting more supplies than they'll get in return.

[relentlessness]

Jacob glances sidelong at Wash at that admission. "Technically, not that most know it is, but the same is true in my world. The war I fight is older than me." Which isn't hard given his age. "And it's older than London itself. We've always had people training and learning to fight in the war. We just don't let others see us. They don't know what we're doing, but we're fighting. All our lives until we defeat them but it hasn't happened. For centuries," he admits, carefully skirting around who he is, what he has trained for and by whom.

"Our luck? Poison," he says with a snort, rolling his eyes.

[notyourrookie]

"I will take your word for that when it comes to the age thing." How old is London? He's assuming pretty old but it's meaningless numbers to him. "I've never even been to Earth so it's all just... names to me." He only knows the places he's seen on the news occasionally, and even then, there's so many other places to think about.

As for the war... "Black ops. Yeah. That I get." Even if his has been corrupt as hell.