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The Retr0.

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it still needs some filling in, but the new carrd is up with the essentials !!

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⬡▸ [ ... ]  𝗛𝗘 ? 𝗗𝗜𝗗 𝗥𝗔𝗬 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗦𝗔𝗬 𝗛𝗘 ? the ' frewer ' ray left in the desert ... is a person !? the incredulous look marcus gives him isn't masked by any means; it's blatant, it's accusatory. it's complete and utter disbelief that anyone could be that careless. sure, he and the rest of the crew hadn't left together, but they all had a meetup point. they all know where to go, should they get separated. and here ray is, an unexpected guest amongst people he didn't know, amongst people this frewer guy definitely doesn't know, with no way of getting in contact with the person he'd made the trek out into the dry heat alongside.  “   ray, man, did you just say he ? tell me this isn't a whole ass person you abandoned in the desert with an tire gang you pissed off.    ”

shit. he remembered tobias once then got caught up in blume's bullshit again. is he still out there? his phone hasn't rang - no messages either. he's probably real fucking pissed at him - again. wouldn't be the first time and sure as fuck won't be the last. it's a minute before ray is able to answer, hesitation as he debates in letting marcus keep believing that frewer is an it and not a he. after careful thinking, he answers. "been stuck here tryna figure this shit out. forgot. 'm sure he's fine. ain't the first time."

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i am both the sacrificial lamb and the executioner cutting it’s head off

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⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗛𝗘'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗔𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦. does this mean being a caretaker ? a nurse ? or is the this in question just jordi chin himself ? he doesn't fucking know, and he's not really too keen on figuring it out, not when he's got the man's blood smeared across his face and palm, while it's soaking into the fabric of his sweater and staining it maroon, rather than cream, while the bullet wound is still freely oozing more of it. he doesn't have the space in his brain to care about that right now.

「 and i really, really, don't have the patience for the grown man claiming to not be a child practically stomping his foot about getting patched up. don't get me wrong, i get it. jordi's an independent guy and prefers to take care of himself, but i don't give a shit about that. i give a shit about doing at least something for the guy that's making sure i don't keel over in this musty ass motel room. it's not much repayment, but i think it's a start. 」

things had gone ... not wrong, necessarily, but definitely not with their typical smooth efficiency. aiden isn't sure which of them mis-stepped, which of them had their eyes in the wrong place at the wrong time, but somewhere, somehow, there had been a crack in their usually titanium-strength defenses, a crack big enough to have injured jordi ⸻ jordi, the one who rarely, if ever, gets injured on their jobs, usually running support while aiden does the legwork. somewhere, they'd fucked up. somewhere, aiden had fucked up. jordi's rightfully pissed about it.

 “   i'm sure you can,    ” his voice is, thankfully, just close enough to his usual gruff grumble, his irritation buried deep enough to not bleed through.  “   but you don't have to, and ...    ” a short pause as he finally drags everything he needs from the first aid kit and sets about cleaning and disinfecting the wound.  “   i'm already doing it.    ” a triumphant little smirk, then, when he briefly raises his eyes to touch jordi's. they don't linger, but the silent message is clear enough: no amount of bitching is gonna stop me so save it.

@retr0foxtur3 / aiden pearce ﹥contract title: patching up wounds ﹥requested operative: jordi chin

﹥﹥﹥﹥would you cut it out? i'm trying to help you.

Jordi Chin didn't get injured. If he had a business card, that would the the subline. Jordi Chin, Fixer. Unkillable, Uninjurable, Reliable, and Clean. Crisp dark font on a clean white background, matte finish, none of that glossy shit. Because he was a professional, because he was clean, because he was a goddamn fucking legend in the field at this point and he was fucking respectable.

Jordi fucking Chin didn't get clipped in the goddamn thigh by a stray bullet, or followed home by The Vigilante for it, it didn't fucking happen. Except it very much so had, and he was dealing with the aftermath of it. Suit? Ruined. Blood pressure? Through the roof. Professional status -

Eh, that was probably fine. The only person who had lived to tell the tale was Aiden Pearce and he was...

Cold and wet from the rainfall. Irritated. A furrow in his brow and a cold hand pressed to Jordi's overheated and bare skin. Wearing Jordi's blood smeared across a stubbled cheek, and one of his typical ugly knit sweaters. Hat tossed - somewhere and out of the two of them, Jordi being half naked and Aiden being fully dressed sans hat... Out of the two of them, how the fuck was it that Aiden looked the most vulnerable? Bright green eyes with rain wet and matted lashes and a set to his mouth that was almost a pout, even as he snapped at him and snarled like he was the one shot.

Jordi considers strangling him, wrapping his hands around his throat to see his eyes pop. He considers yelling at him. He considers slapping him away and the bruise it would leave on his cheek.

He does none of the above, and instead forces himself to relax. (He absolutely needed to Talk to His Guy over this new softness, this new instinct to soothe instead of bite back harder.) "I can do it myself," Jordi says without moving, eyes on Aiden as the other man makes a mess of his first aid kit. "I'm not a fucking child."

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a [ character study ] of damaged goods with jagged edges. a glitch in the system. and what happens when you wipe the slate clean yourself, just to »finally« become what they always accused you of being:                                             — —— a problem.

COYO7E DEN ACCESS… GRANTED! INITIALZING… ♯ [!!!]» Programmed by tonik // Semi-selective; ♯ [!!!]» Mid-millennial & casual AF // 21+, MDNI; ♯ [!!!]» Inspired by Watch_Dogs, Hackers (1995), & Mr. Robot; ♯ [!!!]» Dark / suggestive themes likely, shenanigans definitely; ♯ [!!!]» Menu >              1) da7a              2) ver              3) dir              4) help              5) con7ac7 suppor7 ♯ [!!!]» Please make a selection (1 - 5) > _

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UR FUTURE FIX3R a mutuals & adults (21+) only roleplay blog for FIXERS from ubisoft's WATCH_DOGS franchise. will contain canon-typical topics including violence, murder, sexual themes, & more. featuring: THE WRENCH & JORDI CHIN.

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aiden vc: now why am i catching strays —

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▸ @roseypeached ( 𝖱𝖠𝖸𝖬𝖮𝖭𝖣 𝖪𝖤𝖭𝖭𝖤𝖸 ) ping'd 𝖱𝖤𝖳𝖱𝟢 ! ! ◂

⬡▸ [ ... ]  𝗔 𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗖𝗞 𝗠𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝗤𝗨𝗜𝗘𝗧, not peace ( none of them get peace anymore, after declaring all-out war on blume ), catches him alone in the hackerspace. well. alone with ray, which sometimes almost feels the exact same. so what does marcus do ? he fills the silence. “    so ... your, uh, frewer ⸻ did you ever go back and get it ? outta the desert ?   ”   

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small starter call for marcus. just marcus. love him.

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small starter call for marcus. just marcus. love him.

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Retired? You really believe that? John Wick (2014)

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⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗜𝗧 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗 𝗕𝗘 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬 he's watching jordi's skin become visible, after only seeing it in his memories for so long. it could be the fact that it's his own fingers unwrapping jordi like a gift especially for him. it could be the easy, lackadaisical aura jordi now has, confidently laid out on the hotel bed. it could just simply be the fact that he's so close to jordi after being apart for years ⸺ but whatever it is, it has aiden's heart thumping hard and heavy in his chest; if he focuses hard enough, he can probably hear his pulse roaring in his ears.

and that pulse spikes; once, when jordi finally touches him, radiating the kind of heat that only jordi can, but his fingers continue to move diligently without pause, until the very last button ( the fact that it's in large part due to aiden now very carefully avoiding jordi's gaze for the sake of maintaining his composure need not be said ), fond smirk still carefully in place; once more, at the vulgar connotation that falls from jordi's mouth with all the casualness of a comment on the weather. fucker.

「 i've never quite figured out how he can say shit like that without even batting an eye, how it just comes out of his mouth so naturally, like it's nothing. some might think it's because he's a sociopath with no filter, but i think it's because he's a sadistic bastard that gets joy out of pushing people's buttons ⸺ my buttons, especially. 」

aiden can already feel his ears beginning to get that traitorous warmth, and he takes a fleeting second to recenter himself before he flicks his eyes up to meet jordi's, focused on him with that look that never fails to make him feel like a mouse being hunted for sport by the cat. but he can't bow out now, even if that isn't exactly the angle he was coming from.  “   yeah ? name your price, then.    ” will he regret that ? likely.

Aiden moves, and god help him, Jordi lets him. He lets the Vigilante loom over him. Lets him brush his hands aside. Lets the man to take a hold of his shirt, and importantly, allows him to start to unbutton it. He doesn't stop him. Doesn't do much else than slide one of his arms up to cushion his head. Doesn't give any kind of warning or reaction other than the act of wrapping his free hand around Aiden's wrist, fingertips pressed carefully to his pulse.

That touch alone is enough to burn his whole house down. The steady beating of Aiden's pulse enough to spark something in him, bring back that breakthrough he'd been about to have. Like a word at the tip of his tongue, it dances just out of reach - and Jordi lets it. Content to blink slow and steady, and watch his fox with a look that's just short of being impassive, a dash of intrigue dancing in dark eyes.

"If you're whoring yourself out on behalf of Dedsec San Francisco, I have to warn you, that debt is deep. It's not just the pants we're talking about here, its the time I wasted, the cost of that ice cream, the ammo..."

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⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 ⸺ 𝗛𝗘 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒𝙎 𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 ⸺ but he can't help the soft puff of a laugh that escapes him, despite the pressed line of his lips. his eyes are twinkling with it, watching jordi's clear delight in the memory of his apparent torment of this random kid is a little infectious; it's hard not to be fond of him like this, as alarming as this should be to the average person.

「 but that's just jordi, fucked up sense of humor, and all. sometimes i'm not sure why or how, but he's the one person i choose come back to, even if the attachment isn't wholly reciprocated. 」

finally, he's getting up from the chair and closing the space between them, brushing jordi's hand out of the way and starting to undo the buttons himself, just because he can, fond smile still curving his lips.    “   nearly getting a guy killed and framed for murder, instead of asking him to buy you another pair of pants ? yeah, that sounds about like you.   ” the words are lacking any real tone of disapproval, the bubble of contentment at having jordi under his fingertips, even with the barrier of fabric and plastic between them and his skin, expanding in his chest and taking over.

 “   so go ahead and tell me ⸺ what's it gonna take to make it up to you ?    ”

"Is there a difference?" An honest question that really didn't need an answer. Jordi might not consider there to be much of a difference between the two options, but Aiden had that... justice thing about him still. Vigilantism and The Fox still old friends, even if Lucky Quinn was long gone and all that revenge had been tied up neatly in the end - Jordi's interference excluded. "He trusted too easily, needed a lesson on not trusting every fixer that happened to align in goals."

Jordi pauses, thinking. Thumb still stroking along the buttons of his shirt. "You know, that was the second time I tried to fuck him? First time, I led the Bratva to him. Doesn't count as a murder attempt, I knew he'd get out. Just wasn't sure in how many pieces..." He laughs as he finishes his sentence. Giggling out words as he grins to himself. "Fair play for putting a hole in my brand new pants."

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⬡▸ [ ... ] 𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦 threatens a smile, the remnants of the amusement from moments ago, but he manages to hold it at bay, cautious of stirring up more ire than he clearly already has. it's both a blessing and a curse, how well jordi knows him front and back ⸺ though he wouldn't necessarily call himself a liar so much as a ... person that tells creative truths that may or may not continue to hold water, not that it matters; this, too, his tenuous fixer partner knows, and it's all the same in any way of substance.

an unexpected side effect of spending so much time in close quarters with jordi: lying to him inches closer and closer to impossible.

so he does as he's told. he doesn't answer it, aside from the minute glint of amusement in his eyes that jordi doesn't see anyway, and the return to the slow, lazy twist of the desk chair.    “   no, i didn't miss it. i can multitask, you know.   ” he goes back to his relaxed position, emerald eyes tracking the fidget of jordi's fingers.    “   just wondering if you did it because you had to or just because you could.   ”

Folding his hands on his midsection, Jordi doesn't acknowledge the comment at first. Instead, he turns his head to look at Aiden with his own look of exhaustion. Brows pinched together as he stares at the man a little too intently, then rolls them to the side. Thumb coming up to stroke at his own sternum in a gesture that comes off more agitated than self-soothing as he sighs and looks back at the stained ceiling.

"Did you miss the part where he shot me in the ass, or were you admiring the view?" He must have been if he'd missed the entire point where Jordi had every opportunity to kill the kid, but hadn't. Sure, he'd nearly led him to his own death (or death to him, as it was), but that was semantics. Jordi hadn't pulled the trigger, and despite that he'd had every fucking right to do so. "I mean, let's face it, I was on my A-Game, if it'd been you, you'd have accidentally popped him on instinct. Especially after the fucker lied to me. Who lies to someone who showed them mercy? Don't answer that, you're the biggest liar I know, your opinion doesn't count."