[ generally, human resources would throw him another earpiece and be done with it. after the first few weeks, after stumbling out of arcturus and being guarded by a soldier at all times, they learned pretty quickly not to care about him at all. he's a betting piece, a tax write-off; he's demoted personnel left to deal with the more annoying flights around the quad, with the slim pickings of patrols that no enforcer with more pride would really care to take.
point is, he doesn't mind being a recluse either. in fact, all the better when his communication feed occasionally buzzes with watery static, occasionally stretches with long lapses of silence without a single check-in to report no activity to hq. no one cares about the places where shiro's sent to patrol. no one notices at all.
no one notices -- until, of course, they do. but it's easy to blame technology when they usually give him the oldest models and the barest minimum. he tells them, i didn't notice that the comm feed went offline, and they take the excuse.
once, then twice, then three times before enough becomes enough, and they send him to the labs.
he just hopes it's a fluke. ]
Lunch hour traffic. You're gonna have to cut me a break.
[ but it's good-humored and accompanied with an easy grin. he's got two bags in tow: sandwiches, chips, cookies and the usual standard fare -- not for any fear that fitz might forget to feed himself, but -
. . .
well. maybe some fear. ]
Hope this thing didn't put you off any of your other projects.
no subject
point is, he doesn't mind being a recluse either. in fact, all the better when his communication feed occasionally buzzes with watery static, occasionally stretches with long lapses of silence without a single check-in to report no activity to hq. no one cares about the places where shiro's sent to patrol. no one notices at all.
no one notices -- until, of course, they do. but it's easy to blame technology when they usually give him the oldest models and the barest minimum. he tells them, i didn't notice that the comm feed went offline, and they take the excuse.
once, then twice, then three times before enough becomes enough, and they send him to the labs.
he just hopes it's a fluke. ]
Lunch hour traffic. You're gonna have to cut me a break.
[ but it's good-humored and accompanied with an easy grin. he's got two bags in tow: sandwiches, chips, cookies and the usual standard fare -- not for any fear that fitz might forget to feed himself, but -
. . .
well. maybe some fear. ]
Hope this thing didn't put you off any of your other projects.