Sixty-Fourth Theory [Action/Voice]

[i_speak_softly]

((First part is backdated to yesterday, November 10.))

[Would it really be so difficult for John's droids to just bring Don home?]

[Apparently, because they instead leave him in a side room of the barracks. On their way out, they drop his journal on the floor, just beyond his reach.]

[He can't feel his legs.]

[He woke up this way on John's table, and while part of his brain tried to assess the situation rationally and offer the mitigating factors that it's just for a week, thank goodness he didn't get this as his death loss, the rest of his brain was screaming too loudly to notice or care.]

[And now he's back in the village, half-paralyzed, still uncertain of his speech, and completely alone.]

[It takes a while, but he pulls himself together, drags himself a few feet across the floor, and painstakingly constructs a filter in the journal.]

Voice to Beast | Unhackable

Help. The barracks. Please...

[He closes the book when he's done. Beast won't get any reply from him through the journals, but will find him prone on the floor of the barracks, just wanting to go home.]



Voice for Everyone, November 11

[By the next day, Don has rediscovered his voice, and wants everyone else to hear it too. Being couchbound, he has nothing better to do than broadcast his every thought over the journal system.]

EVERYONE. Citizens, denizens, residents and inmates of our village of Luceti. Those of you who have just arrived, please find adequate shelter, because this is miserable weather to be out in. You're fortunate, though, to have missed our recent tornado. Also an infestation of ghosts and some messy business involving zombie viruses. Never a dull moment. I advise reading the guide, which can be found in your journal.

Those of you who are already jaded by such events, please entertain yourselves on this dreary day by suggesting a topic of interest: a fascinating subject, an intriguing project, or a hypothetical occurrence that you would find truly surprising. Jokes and stories are also welcome.

[He'll stop there. Finding words is still difficult and tiring, and like exercising any other faculty that hasn't been used in a while, he should take it slowly. Full recovery will come from patient practice, not from exhausting himself all at once.]


((Initial action is locked to Beast. Friends of Don are welcome to handwave hearing of his return and come visit, yesterday afternoon or any time during the week. Today's voice post is open to all.))

Comments

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert wrings his hands, his expression some quiet, pained mixture of emotions. If he can't help you, Don, then who can?]

Don, p-please...

S-Surely I can do something? [Anything, really. He just doesn't want Don to feel the pain he must be feeling.]

[i_speak_softly]

[It takes a minute, but Don regains his composure and answers calmly.]

I don't want to talk about this today. Let's just watch a movie or something.

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert's expression is strained and sad, but - after a moment where he looks like he might object - he just sags a little and nods.]

... a-alright.

[Never mind that this is the last thing he wants to do right now.]

[i_speak_softly]

[If you wanted to talk about something, you should have said so five minutes ago.]

[... Or right now, if you want to impress Don with your assertiveness.]

[semper_cogitans]

[It's more that this situation is worrying him a lot more than he can articulate. Well, that, and the commentary about being bad at relationships is now making him wonder if he feels that way because Robert is bad.

But, he doesn't have the assertiveness to push any of those lines of conversation right now, or even a different one. Besides, it's clear Don doesn't want to talk.

Instead, he gives an uncertain look towards the movies. Did you really want to watch one then, Don?]

[i_speak_softly]

[Mostly he wants anything that will serve as a distraction. If his attention wanders to his legs for more than two seconds, he'll lose it.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Makes sense.

Well, is there a particular movie he likes? Because Robert's going to go over to the shelf.]

... Is there a movie you are... th-thinking of, perhaps...?

[i_speak_softly]

Not really.

[Also, he's still having noticeable trouble with proper nouns. He's not in the mood to try to remember the name of any movie he might think of.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Then it shall be a science documentary.

Robert selects an astronomy one - interstellar objects, with a focus on nebulae and quasars - and puts it in their player. It always gives him an odd nostalgia to do this; it's like a lower-tech version of the years he spent as a child watching holovideos about various science topics.

When he's done, he reseats himself next to Don, close enough to be companionable but not quite touching. He doesn't want to crowd Don.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don laboriously slides down into a more horizontal position, making himself as comfortable as he can. If he's lucky, he'll fall asleep during the movie.]

[semper_cogitans]

[As much as Robert wants to be in rapt attention, he keeps either wincing at the outdatedness of the science or looking worriedly over at Don every once in awhile. Probably both.

In a way he kind of hopes Don gets some rest too. After the crap that happened today, he needs it.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Something about the way Robert keeps glancing over really bothers him. After a while, he has to say something.]

What?

[semper_cogitans]

... I am worried. [It's a small, simple sentence, but Robert's expression makes it a lot more than that. Worried about what Don said, worried about their future, worried about his health. All sorts of worries.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don's most obvious response to this is an irritated sigh. Somewhere under that is a sinking feeling, and even further down a sense of being very loved.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Hopefully the sinking feeling is not the most overwhelming of those feelings.

Either way, Robert tries to stop looking at Don, wincing away shamefully. But he's clearly still anxious, and keeps rhythmically wringing his hands.]

[i_speak_softly]

[This evasiveness is incredibly annoying.]

Robert.

[semper_cogitans]

[Cringing now. He doesn't like that tone.]

... Yes?

[i_speak_softly]

Stop doing that.

[He makes a gesture that could easily be interpreted as referring specifically to the tic, but what he really means is Robert's tendency to not say what's on his mind.]

[semper_cogitans]

[He gets only one of the meanings right now, namely because the other is buried too deeply to realize, and stops kneading his hands. His fingers involuntarily curl, as if he's bearing some significant weight.

It's actually quite difficult to suppress his tic, though. He keeps wanting to move his hands, or something.]

[i_speak_softly]

[To Don, then, Robert is still doing "that". His expression turns darker, and he hunches up the blankets and faces the TV again, acting like he doesn't care what his partner is thinking about.]

[semper_cogitans]

[It's only when Don does this that he realizes that Don might not mean the hand-tic. But, then, what does he mean? What else did Robert do wrong?

He goes over the mental list of things he could've done wrong that weren't hand-tic related. Did he say something bad in that conversation? Does he have poor taste in movies? Is he sitting too close or too far away? What exactly did he do?

Or maybe it's something he didn't do.

But what could it possibly be?]

[i_speak_softly]

[Usually Don would be more generous about this kind of thing, but he just doesn't have the emotional reserves today.]

[He watches the documentary, his eyelids growing heavy as the narrator tells him things he already knows.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Well, Robert just... sort of hopes Don will drift off and give him some time to think of what the problem could be. Maybe they can better deal with it later when Don's less tired.

He just tries to be quiet right now and engross himself in the science, though... it's not really working too well.]