Post by Soldier 76 on Sept 18, 2016 22:13:20 GMT
George had...been better, far as drinking and smoking and self-medicating with Vicodin. Better but not perfect. He was trying to general be less out of it to help Ansell, the man needed someone consistently sober. Not that George wasn't good at hiding how drunk he was most points. Or at least how buzzed and numbed, he was a big guy a few drinks didn't really effect him too bad, and have nanomachines in your blood stream did wonders for tolerance and recovery. He took a swig out of a coffee mug, though the smell wasn't really coffee. He tossed back a couple pain killers. They were for his mostly frozen leg, the brace started to really wear on it, but he wasn't about to have the damn thing replaced.
He supposed he could do something like regenerate the tissues that probably was an option but he wasn't sure how much he trusted the doctor they had here to do it. She seemed off for all her pleasant nature said. He sighed, that wasn't even the real reason he was sitting here, in the empty break room, drinking and smoking. At this point it wasn't like he could just stop, and his pains weren't physical anyway.
He reached into his pocket, dropping pictures on the table, how many years had it been? 20...25? Must be something like that. Smiling faces, his kids, with that woman cut or ripped out of each of them. She'd always been a nag, and liked to turn his insecurities around on him, so why have her ruin perfectly good pictures of his kids? Not that he'd ever see them again. He took a deep breath. "How are you guys doing these days anyway? Did she let you see me save the world? did she keep you safe?" he asked softly of the ghosts. He took another swig. "Are you still playing doctor or did you finally decide astronaut was more fun?" He shook his head. You're talking to yourself George. Maybe you really are crazy.
He dropped a cigarette on the table and decided whether he was going to light it or not. Shame cancer wouldn't kill him, he'd been working on that slow death since he was 15, all that hard work going to waste. He finally decided he might as well, letting it smolder on his lip while he stashed the lighter away. "Said I was going to quit when you two came along...whats the point in it now?" He sighed. "Do you still go to church? Honest never was much for it, too dull right?" Still talking to yourself. Why did it feel better than? He tapped ash onto a napkin. "I'm sure Jesus knew we liked him enough without needing to get dressed up for it." He took another drag. "Lets go to grandma's instead."
Another swig, his cup was getting empty, well lucky he had the bottle sitting out. No one ever came in here anyway.
He supposed he could do something like regenerate the tissues that probably was an option but he wasn't sure how much he trusted the doctor they had here to do it. She seemed off for all her pleasant nature said. He sighed, that wasn't even the real reason he was sitting here, in the empty break room, drinking and smoking. At this point it wasn't like he could just stop, and his pains weren't physical anyway.
He reached into his pocket, dropping pictures on the table, how many years had it been? 20...25? Must be something like that. Smiling faces, his kids, with that woman cut or ripped out of each of them. She'd always been a nag, and liked to turn his insecurities around on him, so why have her ruin perfectly good pictures of his kids? Not that he'd ever see them again. He took a deep breath. "How are you guys doing these days anyway? Did she let you see me save the world? did she keep you safe?" he asked softly of the ghosts. He took another swig. "Are you still playing doctor or did you finally decide astronaut was more fun?" He shook his head. You're talking to yourself George. Maybe you really are crazy.
He dropped a cigarette on the table and decided whether he was going to light it or not. Shame cancer wouldn't kill him, he'd been working on that slow death since he was 15, all that hard work going to waste. He finally decided he might as well, letting it smolder on his lip while he stashed the lighter away. "Said I was going to quit when you two came along...whats the point in it now?" He sighed. "Do you still go to church? Honest never was much for it, too dull right?" Still talking to yourself. Why did it feel better than? He tapped ash onto a napkin. "I'm sure Jesus knew we liked him enough without needing to get dressed up for it." He took another drag. "Lets go to grandma's instead."
Another swig, his cup was getting empty, well lucky he had the bottle sitting out. No one ever came in here anyway.
