[ a guy drinks a couple of times to cozy up to locals or new colleagues and suddenly he's branded an alcoholic. okay. but that is the difference in seniority speaking, and when the medic glances at elysium for his take, he only answers with a loose, dismissive shrug.

there's nothing to contest when everything thorns said is correct. instead, after he says his piece, elysium produces a map, holding it out for the defender to mark where he'd woken up and where, approximately, he remembers being. he offers an easy smile, and for once—he earns a point as opposed to losing one. if they both were truly as drunk as claimed, the sniperguard couldn't have strayed far. there are only so many establishments serving alcohol within the perimetre; if it comes to combing through people, it won't be difficult.

still, it's clear the rookies need to work out their issues among each other before anything else. they bow, apologise profusely for the trouble, and vow to do better before dragging the defender off to hammer out their plan of attack.

only once they're out of earshot does elysium turn fully to thorns. ]

Everything feels a little too coincidental, don't you think? You weren't wrong about anything you said, so I didn't interject… but from what I know of them, they don't seem the type to be this reckless.

[ his mind circles back to zeruertza. they'd drunk, yes, and they were the rowdier of the four, but the only time they'd truly let loose was when the mission was declared finished and when it came time to the unveiling and celebration of the greater aquapit. but he can't say any of that, can he? so, he just sounds like someone giving his unsolicited opinion on two people he hardly knows.

in theory. a hand finds its way on thorns' shoulder. ]

… Let's be careful.