I know. [Which translates roughly to 'it's fine'. A verbal agreement to do whatever they have to to survive tonight. Her sleeves slip out of his grasp, and he's ready for it: his own weight dragging him down into the darkness until slick cement slams hard against the soles of his shoes, balance thrown awkwardly to one side (he's ready for it, palms struck out and dragged over brick until his nails sink in, compensating). There's the soft crunch of cybernetic components in his leg as they compress, still absorbing the shock. His sensors flicker in sustained alert, but— squinting up into the light to catch North's darkened silhouette— he ignores it.
He can ignore it.
Noise detection in that subterranean space is limited, but there's no mistaking a low, bassy hum that seems to rumble through the air just overhead. A helicopter, maybe. Or the revving engine of a militarized vehicle— Josh isn't familiar enough with army equipment to tell the difference.
His shoulders pull tighter with tension, syllables stressed:]
North, you need to hurry!
[He thinks, shifting his weight more towards his uninjured leg, that if it comes down to it, he could catch her.
no subject
He can ignore it.
Noise detection in that subterranean space is limited, but there's no mistaking a low, bassy hum that seems to rumble through the air just overhead. A helicopter, maybe. Or the revving engine of a militarized vehicle— Josh isn't familiar enough with army equipment to tell the difference.
His shoulders pull tighter with tension, syllables stressed:]
North, you need to hurry!
[He thinks, shifting his weight more towards his uninjured leg, that if it comes down to it, he could catch her.
Or try to.]