What's a vacation? [Closed- Bendytimed to middle of shore leave]

[gogopowersuit.livejournal.com]

Thank goodness Samus' bike was shipped down with them, or else she would be a lost woman.

Sure the relaxation is nice, but like hell she is used to it. She always needs to be doing something with herself. Sitting on a beach and shopping do not fulfill those requirements. Plus she had already done those two things. She's wearing normal clothes for once and sporting new boots. They aren't quite what was in fashion back in her home universe, but the stores here seem to lack blue bodysuits and orange two-pieces. How sad.

With all her vacation obligations taken care of, no one could criticize her for sneaking off alone. Well, they could, but they didn't have much of a case considering she did at least make an attempt to partake in some normal activities. She had done them only half-heatedly but it is still better than nothing, especially for Samus.

She took her bike. She doesn't know exactly where she's going, but she will find what she needs. She had been to enough of these "vacation planets" to know them. She used to hop between them back when she was getting started as a hunter and needed jobs. She rides through the back alleys. She's less likely to get stopped or spotted by an enthusiastic crew member trying to drag her along somewhere.

Except, one does duck into her path. He isn't going to try and stop her, though. She knows that. Instead, she slows and eventually stops, placing her feet onto the gravel road to steady the bike as it ideals.

"Trying to go somewhere? Or trying to get away?" she asked, even if she already knew it was the latter.

Comments

[prettycoolguy]

The Master Chief is not very good at shore leave. He can't relax, he can't make himself comfortable. He almost wishes he could.

He can't relax. He feels like he shouldn't be here, that he doesn't belong somehow, and hasn't been able to shake it since they landed. John's not used to street clothes. They're an improvement over the podsuit, but he still feels vulnerable. Open. Even worse, he doesn't even have his sidearm. Sure he can fight, but it's a blow to his sense of security. It's ridiculous. He should be able to feel safe here, he knows that the chances of something going wrong are small. But he still can't shake the spike of nerves he gets whenever he notices the lack of his sidearm's reassuring weight at his hip.

And now here he is, hands jammed in the pockets of a new jacket as he walks, having just given a cluster of crew members the slip and trying to analyze his reasons for doing it. Just... being there felt wrong. Going inside that club with them would have felt wrong too. And being out here alone is also wrong. He can't figure out where he wants to be and what he wants to be doing right now, and it's bothering him. The only answer is "working" but there's nothing for him to work on.

He moved to one side to let the bike pass when he heard the engine, briefly pulling him out of a mess of trying to sort his own thoughts. As he hears it come to a stop, though, he silently prepares to deal with some street punk who thinks it's a smart idea to sneak up on him. But it's not necessary.

Samus' voice. He stops walking.

"Going nowhere," he replies, not turning. "I'm out of your way," he adds. Why did she stop?