"What?" Rush shoots the man a look that questions, frankly and in many escalating volumes, if he's lost his mind, which he's now positive he's had. Are they not temporally synchronized? Rush doesn't think they're temporally synchronized. At all. "Have I ever been outside the core. You mean as in Earth. Yes, try several fucking billion light years from it. There are no inhabitable planets where I'm from, and the ones that do have breathable atmosphere are full of nocturnal alien slugs trying to fucking kill you. Or - worse."
Worse. Like them. But thinking about them would be counterproductive to Rush's current goals of tearing into his exceptionally poor debate partner's flimsy arguments that have practically no basis in any kind of reality Rush is used to. The man can't be from Earth which is a possibility, apparently, when one devotes one's life to hopping through stable wormholes. One of those lower-technology worlds, probably. Unless they really aren't temporally synchronized.
"And it was not employment," he hisses darkly. "It was an accident." Rush's accident that wasn't particularly an accident in the first place, but that's hardly relevant. "That ship was built millions of fucking years ago and - and we were constantly fucking running from - from blue skinny fucks that telepathically strip away - you - you do not know what it is we have to fucking - fight against -"
He's probably not making any conceivable sense to this man, even if he was from the start, but it's growing increasingly difficult for Rush to delineate any of it. He swings away from the other man to drive one palm into an eye socket and starts digging furiously, burn away the memories of them slicing into his neurological thought patterns with vicious precision then his skin a few times, without fucking anesthetic thanks, to examine how exactly he worked on a biological, physiological, cranial level. Rush doubts this man has any right to understand that part of him but he has quite simply, as previously noted, refused to give a fuck. He sincerely doubts the shooter will understand anything he's had to say, especially if they come from separate universes or time-streams, something that is also apparently possible, mostly courtesy of coronal mass fucking emissions. He just got fucking lucky about this one.
no subject
Worse. Like
them.But thinking aboutthemwould be counterproductive to Rush's current goals of tearing into his exceptionally poor debate partner's flimsy arguments that have practically no basis in any kind of reality Rush is used to. The man can't be from Earth which is a possibility, apparently, when one devotes one's life to hopping through stable wormholes. One of those lower-technology worlds, probably. Unless they really aren't temporally synchronized."And it was not employment," he hisses darkly. "It was an accident." Rush's accident that wasn't particularly an accident in the first place, but that's hardly relevant. "That ship was built millions of fucking years ago and - and we were constantly fucking running from - from blue skinny fucks that telepathically strip away - you - you do not know what it is we have to fucking - fight against -"
He's probably not making any conceivable sense to this man, even if he was from the start, but it's growing increasingly difficult for Rush to delineate any of it. He swings away from the other man to drive one palm into an eye socket and starts digging furiously, burn away the memories of
themslicing into his neurological thought patterns with vicious precision then his skin a few times, without fucking anesthetic thanks, to examine how exactly he worked on a biological, physiological, cranial level. Rush doubts this man has any right to understand that part of him but he has quite simply, as previously noted, refused to give a fuck. He sincerely doubts the shooter will understand anything he's had to say, especially if they come from separate universes or time-streams, something that is also apparently possible, mostly courtesy of coronal mass fucking emissions. He just got fucking lucky about this one.