i_speak_softly | Luceti Appointments

[No.]

... I... I s-see... [He almost whispers it, not even so much a sentence as a disjointed murmuring, as he stands up, swaying slightly. He's shaking like a leaf in a windstorm, and being sick isn't helping stave off the sudden gut-wrenching fear that once again he's ruined everything.

But his face is nearly expressionless, despite the trembling of his body.]

[It takes a lot to make Don angry, but even more to make him abandon someone who's in danger of hurting themselves. When he sees Robert shaking like that, Don crosses the room, seizes the back of Robert's pajama shirt, and half-carries, half-marches him into the bathroom.]

Do you need me to wait with you?

[Robert goes quietly. Even if he wasn't half-out of his mind with sleep deprivation and the remainder of a hangover, he knows that everything that happened already put him on thin ice, and he's not going to endanger it further if he can help it.]

... Yes...

[It's a plea, almost. Stay with him. Don't leave him yet, even if he is a wreck.]

[Done.]

[Don turns the water on and makes sure Robert gets safely into the shower, then waits. The humid warmth of the bathroom feels good, anyway.]

[The man cleans himself with a precision bordering on mania, though he doesn't quite succumb to the extremes that happened during his solitude. The reminder that Don is there - waiting to see him begin to fix whatever problems he caused - is enough of a motivator not to lose himself in cleaning filth that does not exist.

He steps out of the shower about ten minutes later, still looking exhausted but somewhat better than he was, and wraps himself in a towel. Now that he's clean, the subtle marks on his hands from where he'd scrubbed off skin are all-too-obvious.]

Edited 2013-06-19 03:16 (UTC)

[Don has had all week to notice these bizarre self-inflicted injuries. What he hasn't done properly all week is drink, so while Robert showered, Don downed one glass after another of water. He feels somewhat better now, though he still looks pale and tired.]

Can you walk now?

[Despite his own condition, Robert is lucid enough to notice these things, but he doesn't comment yet.]

... I... I can. [He takes a few steps to prove his point, though they still are less sure-footed than usual.]

[Don follows Robert back to the bedroom, where Carbon has perched herself on the end of the bed, staring towards where her two-legs had gone. While waiting for Robert to find some clothes, Don picks the cat up and nuzzles her affectionately, addressing her in Japanese but purposely using words Robert probably understands.]

< Hello, cat. How are you today? Do you know you're smarter than that scientist? >

[Unfortunately for him, he does understand at least enough to know he's being insulted. But while an emotionally-stronger person (or even Robert himself on a better day) might lash out against such an attack on his intellect, no matter how unreasonable, he just doesn't have the capacity to do so right now. So he doesn't comment on it, though he very noticeably does not make eye contact with Don as he dresses himself.

Carbon, meanwhile, is just happy to be getting some actual dedicated attention again. Too much distance from the shell-less one...]

[Robert seems to be doing okay right now, so Don puts Carbon on his shoulder and heads to the kitchen. He hasn't eaten anything all week and he's pretty hungry.]

[Robert doesn't accompany him. In fact, Robert doesn't really go anywhere. He just... kind of stands there until Don leaves, and eventually sits with a leaden heaviness on the edge of his bed, staring into the nothingness in front of him and slowly, methodically kneading his hands together.

His head is a blur of emotions tinged with pain of all kinds and he really just wants to lie down and sleep, but he's too frightened of the Pandora's Box of possibilities that opened up to actually be able to rest.]

[Don comes back after a while carrying two trays of food, one of which holds a bowl of plain rice and a mug of weak tea. This he holds out to Robert.]

Here. Be grateful I don't know Master Splinter's hangover remedy.

[Robert takes the tray, fingers shaking very slightly as he lowers it into his lap. His face is wet.]

... Th-Thank you...

[He takes the offered spoon then (good thing it is a spoon, he probably couldn't have handled anything else) and begins to eat very slowly, seemingly oblivious to his own condition.]

[Don sits down with his own, more heavily-laden, tray, and stuffs his face for a while before speaking again. He chooses his words carefully, translating his feelings the way he's learned to do for his partner.]

I'm angry because I love you. The things I saw you doing the last few days, I don't ever want to see again. Do you understand?

[Robert's hands shake hard enough that he actually drops the spoon he was holding.]

... S-Some of what you witnessed... I am not c-certain I can completely control...

[You're not expecting him to stop all of it, are you, Don?]

[Don automatically reaches to make sure the whole tray doesn't tip over.]

We'll talk about it when you're sober.

[Robert nods mutely at that and refocuses his fractured mind on his food, though he really doesn't want to eat anymore. It's probably the best that he gets some actual food in himself, though...

As he eats, he keeps his eyes on his tray, shamefully silent. This is bringing up all sorts of terrible memories, though at least so far this is going better than before.]

[Don eats in silence too, processing the morning. Finally he asks:]

Robert, did something else happen that I should know about?

[Robert has moved on to his tea by now, but when Don asks that question he puts it down immediately. Clearly the answer is yes.]

... P-Perhaps I should... explain from the b-beginning... [Now that he's closer to sober it will even be coherent.]

[Don resettles to face Robert, his expression impassive. Gon on; explain yourself.]

[He'll try.]

On the t-twenty-sixth of May, an event occurred in L-Luceti whereby... many residents gained what I can only e-express as... amplified Filial Magic from a sort of s-symbiotic arrangement with Filial Spirits.

I... I r-received power from Tsinku, the like I had... n-never even begun to imagine... [He trails off softly, here.] It was... an experience unlike any I have kn-known...

... And it e-ended so quickly, with you still gone... [His tone softens again, turns inward.] That ease, that simplicity... it must be how most others in this place feel. It... was a r-reminder that I will always be... d-different, here... inferior. Helpless...

[He pauses here, throat tight with emotions he can only partially explain.]

[Don furrows his brow and rubs his beak, thinking.]

After I was with the Malnosso a few days, they were suddenly very interested in my Filial magic. I wonder if there's a connection.

Most l-likely... [It would make sense at least if they were trying to explain the phenomenon.]

At any rate, I... I s-suppose that feeling so helpless after... having such ability was p-painful enough that I... felt too unable to affect change...

[Quietly:] I... wanted to regain that connection with Tsinku, but... it was much d-different once I was no longer inhabited b-by him...

[Softly:] I felt pretty useless too.

[He leans over, just enough to rest his shoulder against Robert's.] I missed being able to touch you.

[Robert doesn't quite lean back into the touch, but there's a noticeable shift of pressure to the shoulder.]

... I... I m-missed that too...

...

[Wait.]

... You... you could not?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject