[ He does not. Unfortunately. Carver scrubs a tired hand through his hair, thinking. This all seems so goddamn high school, he's not sure what to make of it. But if they can't get out of the cages, either they'll die of dehydration or something worse will happen. He's not a big fan of either solution. ]
Worst job was running guns out of Siberia. Lost three guys and I still can't feel the tips of my ears.
[ Job, she said, and so he only names the things he was paid for. There were worse after the fall, and the fires. There were uglier wars. ]
Worst hookup? Some Marine out of Leatherneck. We fucked in the bathroom of some shithole bar, [ he says, blandly. ] I was drunk off my ass. My hair looked great when I was a kid. And the worst person I ever met was the CIA officer who trained me how to do interrogations. And not a one of these has opened the goddamn cage up, so I'm just gonna spitball here and say none of them were personal enough.
no subject
Worst job was running guns out of Siberia. Lost three guys and I still can't feel the tips of my ears.
[ Job, she said, and so he only names the things he was paid for. There were worse after the fall, and the fires. There were uglier wars. ]
Worst hookup? Some Marine out of Leatherneck. We fucked in the bathroom of some shithole bar, [ he says, blandly. ] I was drunk off my ass. My hair looked great when I was a kid. And the worst person I ever met was the CIA officer who trained me how to do interrogations. And not a one of these has opened the goddamn cage up, so I'm just gonna spitball here and say none of them were personal enough.