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Post by Mirage on Sept 29, 2008 14:57:21 GMT -5
"Do not," Mirage admonishes, voice sharp, "Do not apologize when it was my own arrogance and poor observation which got you captured in the first place. I don't give a damn what you've seen or done or been told. This mess is not your fault."
He tilts his head up, scanning the skies this time, watching for Synapse's nodes.
"I'm out of time, Swerve. I have to go, find some place where I can report safely. But I won't be heading back in; I won't be doing that till you're safe. I'll try to contact you again in a few days, see if I can get some help out here. Can you hold on that long?"
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Sept 29, 2008 15:07:50 GMT -5
Fortunately for what little dignity to which Swerve still clings, Mirage can't see him flinch and recoil at that cutting rebuff of his apology. There was a time he could've simply taken that in stride, but that was before he spent interminable days in the Prime's care. Broken? No. Swerve won't let himself break; he'd rather die. But it's fortunate, too, for Mirage that he can't see just how deeply run the cracks.
"Go," he urges, making that his reassurance. He can hold on. He doesn't have any other choice. "Go while you can!"
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Post by Mirage on Sept 29, 2008 15:14:18 GMT -5
Mirage waits longer than he should to answer Swerve's entreaty. Even knowing that he can't help the constable right now, leaving Swerve still galls.
"We'll get you out of here. I promise," Mirage assures, before pushing off the door. A few steps, and he engages his cloak, slipping away into an alleyway.
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Swerve-3
Rookie
Maintain the Light
Posts: 169
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Post by Swerve-3 on Sept 29, 2008 15:59:43 GMT -5
Mirage is long gone before Swerve finally backs away from the door and retreats to the far wall. He feels renewed and drained all at once, and once he slides into place, he can't move another inch. It's another minute or so before he lets his gaze fix on a crescent-shaped pockmark in the wall and his optics dim to faint embers, brow knitting and shoulders slumping inward. His cell suddenly feels much smaller and lonelier with that promise of help hanging heavily over him. He's terrified of anyone else coming to harm because of him, but he can't help clinging to the thought of rescue, Mirage's vow echoing in his processors.
We'll get you out of here.
"…I hope so."
OOC: And that's a wrap.
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