[The Soldier's mind was gone when they found him. Brain damage from the fall and the burn of the cold. He was an animal, they said, nothing left to him but the basest instincts.
(He killed four medics the day they woke him. He retained, then, his instinct for what counted as a threat).
He makes the finest of canvases now, repainted and washed out in different colours every time, and when they tell him the stories of the glorious freedom he fights for (freedom through pain, order through chaos, they will remake the world as it should be) he absorbs it into himself, his flag to follow. There's instinct to that, too, whether they've missed it or not.]
As houses.
[The smile is smaller, more wry, but still something real enough. The access details to their safehouse for the night are written into the lines of code he calls memory.
The reasons the Captain would like his smile aren't. (Like his mouth, that he might have a guess for).]
Your requests are as good as commands. Did they not say?
[He is second on this mission, in every way but one. So far, the Captain retains control.]
no subject
(He killed four medics the day they woke him. He retained, then, his instinct for what counted as a threat).
He makes the finest of canvases now, repainted and washed out in different colours every time, and when they tell him the stories of the glorious freedom he fights for (freedom through pain, order through chaos, they will remake the world as it should be) he absorbs it into himself, his flag to follow. There's instinct to that, too, whether they've missed it or not.]
As houses.
[The smile is smaller, more wry, but still something real enough. The access details to their safehouse for the night are written into the lines of code he calls memory.
The reasons the Captain would like his smile aren't. (Like his mouth, that he might have a guess for).]
Your requests are as good as commands. Did they not say?
[He is second on this mission, in every way but one. So far, the Captain retains control.]