Bring On the Dancing Horses || Chris & Ellie
Actually, he hadn’t been far off in his assumption. The last tenant had been a spy for Unitology who she caught trying to look up the information she’d been researching in her apartment one day. Ellie had to fight him off, but in the end his missing tongue had made a mess of her hallway and his hands were broken beyond repair. Any information he had, if any at all, would never make it to whoever had sent him. Her landlord assumed the tenant was another lowlife bust and grumbled about assholes that abandoned the place after a few days.
"That’s classified information and I’ll be asking the questions, alright?" Her voice hissed, duel-toned eyes narrowed and staring right into him. "Now, where the fuck are you from and what the fuck are you doing here? Tell me the truth or you get a plasma round to the kneecaps."
Max hopped down from her shoulders and waltzed towards Chris, weaving between his legs and meowing softly for attention. Ellie shifted her aim to his left arm instead, “Alright, so maybe you won’t be able to jerk yourself off instead… Now spit it out. Who do you work for?”
"Classified information that I can see in your eyes." The blond glared back into those two toned orbs that narrowed on him. He was in a position where he could quite possibly die. Not that he hadn’t been in a situation like this before. "A man who has a gun pointed at him is inclined to tell a rushed truth that may sound like a lie rather than a calm lie that could be perceived as the truth."
It was clear this man didn’t fear death, he was a fighter. Scars marking up almost every limb of his body and a bandage about his left hand that appeared to never come off.
His head tilted as she aimed at his left arm. Christian’s bandaged hand tensing tentatively. “I don’t jerk off Ellie. And I work for the construction union rebuilding places destroyed by the marker outbreaks.” His eyes narrowed. “The rest I told you before was mostly the truth. Though you might find slight differences in our time periods.” He was trying to maintain a calm demeanor the cat rubbing up against him. “I come from the Mojave Wasteland. From a place that looks much like the earth now. Except more bombed out and crawling with mutated beings.” Exhaling a breath he shifted. “Donno how I ended up here… Donno why… and I doubt you’ll believe me.” Standing behind his story the blond didn’t move much, not lunging for the weapon to disarm her though he’d ran over the situation in his mind many times. “So now what are you going to do, shoot me in my arm because I have a story that is highly improbable?”
He gestured around keeping one of his hands on his head. “You went through my room… You saw my guns, you saw everything pertaining to something you know nothing about.”