002 | Jet Link (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fallenstar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2014-10-17 11:09 pm
fallenstar) wrote in makinglies2014-10-17 11:09 pm
Entry tags:
Chimera 009
Jet hated it when he wasn't taken on missions. It didn't happen often, but it drove him crazy when it did. He felt caged in the house on the beach and he couldn't even go flying because he needed to be near the transceiver if there was a problem. He was the cavalry in case what was a simple operation went wrong.
It was, admittedly, really stupid to be so worked up. He knew the more 'fragile' members of their team would be easily protected by the stronger ones and this wasn't an operation where they'd be facing magic, only military and bullets. The man he held the most concern for probably needed it the least since bullets would sting or chip at the most, but hardly cause much more damage than that. His partner was made of rock after all. At least, most of him was...not all of him and it was those few squishier spots left that made Jet fret.
He paced and preened and paced some more, his feathers getting disheveled in his anxious movements. It wasn't until Gilmore had snapped at him to stop fidgeting so much that Jet huffed and retreated into Albert's room. He knew he'd be called back if he was needed and at least this way he wasn't constantly orbiting the transceiver, waiting for it to click into life.
His brain had gone through twenty different possible scenarios from his perch on the edge of the window sill by the time Gilmore knocked and told him that the mission had gone well and everyone was on their way back with limited injuries. There was a knowing look in the old man's eye as he shut the door behind him that made Jet just want to scratch him...but he resisted. Albert would be back soon and Jet could check every inch of him over when he was.
In the meantime, he curled up on the pillows of their bed, wings tucked in around him, and dozed.
It was, admittedly, really stupid to be so worked up. He knew the more 'fragile' members of their team would be easily protected by the stronger ones and this wasn't an operation where they'd be facing magic, only military and bullets. The man he held the most concern for probably needed it the least since bullets would sting or chip at the most, but hardly cause much more damage than that. His partner was made of rock after all. At least, most of him was...not all of him and it was those few squishier spots left that made Jet fret.
He paced and preened and paced some more, his feathers getting disheveled in his anxious movements. It wasn't until Gilmore had snapped at him to stop fidgeting so much that Jet huffed and retreated into Albert's room. He knew he'd be called back if he was needed and at least this way he wasn't constantly orbiting the transceiver, waiting for it to click into life.
His brain had gone through twenty different possible scenarios from his perch on the edge of the window sill by the time Gilmore knocked and told him that the mission had gone well and everyone was on their way back with limited injuries. There was a knowing look in the old man's eye as he shut the door behind him that made Jet just want to scratch him...but he resisted. Albert would be back soon and Jet could check every inch of him over when he was.
In the meantime, he curled up on the pillows of their bed, wings tucked in around him, and dozed.