acts_of_gord: (down for the count)
Gordon got used to bad sleep long, long ago. It's better than it used to be- five hours at a stretch before the nightmares kick in, sometimes more than that- but it's still a very strange thing for him to wake up without some sort of interruption or disturbance.

This night, alas, is a strange thing of an entirely different sort. When his breath catches and his eyes flick open, he lies very still while the world stops blurring and spinning, the way it always does when he's wrenched straight to wakefulness from REM; then he rolls onto his back to stare up at the ceiling for a while, just to be sure it's there and he's here.
acts_of_gord: (interesting eye wear)
Barney pulls the bridge shut almost as soon as Gordon touches down in the building across the road. They've just come from apartments in foul condition, but this building's suffered more; the holes in the walls are enormous, and the floor feels as if it might give way at any moment. Some previous Resistance member took the precaution of bridging the gap between this building and the next with a length of metal walkway. It's very thoughtful of them, but Gordon can't help but wish he still had his old long-jump module. That's just not solid-looking enough for him.

That, and he can hear the whirring, thupping sound of oncoming rotors from somewhere very close by indeed.
acts_of_gord: (nerd glasses)
One thing for sure about the Bar: wherever it's teleporting things in from, the warehouse is top-notch. When Gordon went up to inquire about a movie, it produced not only a DVD of Star Wars, but an appropriate player and television to go with it. Rentals, of course, clearly marked as such, but still.

"I probably should've asked for some popcorn too," Gordon notes as he gets the last few cables plugged in. "Then again, I think we're both full at the moment. Are you ready?"
acts_of_gord: (Resistance)
The group of fighters tasked with getting civilians out of the line of fire opens on an unremarkable side door of a thoroughly unremarkable building. The walls here are largely grey brick, scribbled here and there with graffiti in a mingle of languages- English, Spanish, something that might be Russian or Ukrainian. A tattered poster of a white-bearded man in a business suit hangs limply from the wall next to a roll-up garage door.

Barney leans forward to rap swiftly on the smaller door, as there's no handle to open it from the outside. The first thing anyone sees of what lies beyond is the muzzle of a shotgun. Before any hostile reaction can happen, the wielder leans forward: a bald, bespectacled, lab-coated figure, blinking in the light of day. "Barney?" he says. "Alyx? My God, when did you get here? And who are these people?"

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Gordon Freeman

December 2012

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