[Although Bourne is brooding, he's not unaware of his surroundings, and a flash of unexpected movement catches his eye - someone emerging from a disused alleyway across the street.
Oh, what fresh hell. One quick glance is enough to let him know that it's his least favorite Barge denizen. He keeps walking, for all intents and purposes ignoring his former inmate. If the kid follows him, then he must be suicidal.
Still. Paris is a large city and absolutely everyone has been kicked off the Barge. Not unusual to see someone he knows.
He's not happy with how he's been acting lately. He's more distant than usual - which is saying quite a lot. A lesser person would call it depression. To him, it was a slightly-worse-than-usual state of affairs. He'd spent a lot of time processing the events of the past few months.
And with a sudden click, it falls into place. He's tired of fighting all the damn time. He's done with it.
Bourne deftly excuses himself from the flow of traffic, leans against the side of a building, and checks his item for news of Rachel; to anyone else, he's checking a text message on a phone fifteen years out of date, but retro sometimes was cool. No news. She must still be out cold.
He didn't relish having to make progress with another inmate. Or make progress at all. And as he appeared to be texting, he kept a weather eye out for David.]
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timeasmymeasure
Oh you. <3
Date: 2011-10-23 10:04 pm (UTC)Oh, what fresh hell. One quick glance is enough to let him know that it's his least favorite Barge denizen. He keeps walking, for all intents and purposes ignoring his former inmate. If the kid follows him, then he must be suicidal.
Still. Paris is a large city and absolutely everyone has been kicked off the Barge. Not unusual to see someone he knows.
He's not happy with how he's been acting lately. He's more distant than usual - which is saying quite a lot. A lesser person would call it depression. To him, it was a slightly-worse-than-usual state of affairs. He'd spent a lot of time processing the events of the past few months.
And with a sudden click, it falls into place. He's tired of fighting all the damn time. He's done with it.
Bourne deftly excuses himself from the flow of traffic, leans against the side of a building, and checks his item for news of Rachel; to anyone else, he's checking a text message on a phone fifteen years out of date, but retro sometimes was cool. No news. She must still be out cold.
He didn't relish having to make progress with another inmate. Or make progress at all. And as he appeared to be texting, he kept a weather eye out for David.]