Trouble watches this with interest, then takes advantage of the trees in
their own way, lightly slithering up onto a low branch and ascending from
there.
They were, after all, perfectly capable of emulating Catra to the extent
that her former best friend couldn't tell the difference. 'Light on their
feet' is an understatement.
Miles swings back, and stays close in a tight back and forth of webwork, crashing into and downing several of the little things. They spin and skitter into the forest floor, and he lands on a treebrach- scrabbles, and then sticks.
"Really. And how do you think that's going to work out for us? That at
first I'll be cynical, suspicious, but eventually won over by the sheer
power of your good will and generosity?"
"I don't know yet. I haven't read your file. It might be that or another thing- like just how weird and stressful this place is. But what I do know is me trying to try to force you into something won't work, and trying to trick you into something would be so, so sad."
Like, ending pathetically for him, that kind of sad.
"Because I don't want a stranger rummaging through my personal life?"
They fold their arms.
"This is a favor to you too, you know. We can have a relationship built on
trust or built on that little gift from the Admiral, but you don't get
both."
"Okay. I'm okay to shelve it for now. I think that would change for me if you started murdering people and I felt like I was failing at keeping other people safe and allowing myself to be tricked by you- so tell you what, please don't murder anyone in anything other than self-defense and I won't ask for a second file copy from the admiral?"
"Then I guess this belongs to you. Enclosure- we can be done in here."
Says Miles, to the forest at large. It stills down, drones stopping whirring, door appearing a little way ahead of him. He unshoulders his backpack, to get the paperwork out for them.
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Trouble watches this with interest, then takes advantage of the trees in their own way, lightly slithering up onto a low branch and ascending from there.
They were, after all, perfectly capable of emulating Catra to the extent that her former best friend couldn't tell the difference. 'Light on their feet' is an understatement.
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"Okay!"
They're getting there.
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"Does okay mean we can stop?" Trouble wonders, sounding infinitely more tired by all this than they actually are.
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Says Miles, brightly, landing deftly on the moss next to them and striding onwards.
"There's a thing at the end- probably in the heart of the woods, if this place makes any sense."
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"A thing. That's exactly what was missing from my week, new warden. A thing."
They're tagging along regardless.
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Says Miles, tartly. Thanks DT.
"Is there stuff from home you miss?"
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"...No," they say, after too long a pause. "No, I've learned better than to get attached."
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Points out Miles, and offers;
"If there's anything that you want I'm happy to ask for it."
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"Maybe a cabin upgrade, if you're feeling generous," they concede. "The current decor isn't really to my tastes."
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He's happy to ask for whatever.
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"Hm. Let me get back to you on that. What will I owe you?"
They can live with the pastels and the oversize cuddly toys, if this comes with a price tag.
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Says Miles, with a surprised glance up at them.
"Of course. It doesn't cost me anything."
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"That's not an 'of course'," they point out, chin tilted up. "That's leverage which you're choosing not to use."
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Says Miles, of course.
"I'm just here to make stuff easier."
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"Really. And how do you think that's going to work out for us? That at first I'll be cynical, suspicious, but eventually won over by the sheer power of your good will and generosity?"
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Like, ending pathetically for him, that kind of sad.
"So why not just give you a cooler room?"
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"...Hm."
The sincerity. It burns.
"Never mind my room. If you really want to do me a favor, darling, lose my file."
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He's willing to think about it, but this is the kind of thing where he's going to at least ask, first.
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"Because I don't want a stranger rummaging through my personal life?"
They fold their arms.
"This is a favor to you too, you know. We can have a relationship built on trust or built on that little gift from the Admiral, but you don't get both."
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Says Miles, thinking this through, at a trudge.
"Okay. I'm okay to shelve it for now. I think that would change for me if you started murdering people and I felt like I was failing at keeping other people safe and allowing myself to be tricked by you- so tell you what, please don't murder anyone in anything other than self-defense and I won't ask for a second file copy from the admiral?"
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"With my hand on my heart," look, there it is, "I haven't knowingly murdered anyone'. And I don't plan to."
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Says Miles, to the forest at large. It stills down, drones stopping whirring, door appearing a little way ahead of him. He unshoulders his backpack, to get the paperwork out for them.
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"Oh, is that how it works?" Trouble drawls, looking ahead to the door. "I was almost looking forward to seeing the end of this."
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"This is yours."
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They accept the document with a sharp-toothed smile.
"Thank you, darling. In this spirit of generosity, is there anything I can do for you?"
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