Sixty-Ninth Theory [Voice]

[i_speak_softly]

[Yesterday the village grew quiet, as many villagers were called on a draft, and many others began the anxious wait to see if their friends and loved ones would return to the village safely.]

[Also yesterday, a breath of warm weather arrived in Luceti. Don has been out enjoying it, trying not to dwell on those who are fighting on a flying island right now. He has enough other things on his mind, and around midday he does something about one of them.]

Filtered to Beast || Unhackable

Beast... I haven't thanked you properly for what you did for Robert and me. For everything you've done for us.

End Filter

[Later, he leaves a brief, unfiltered message:]

Would anyone be interested in learning how to program computers and fix cars?

Comments

[semper_cogitans]

[The man allows the wing to leave his grasp, but rather than take his attention away he just continues to stare at Don's shell.

Even now he is worrying that his candid statement was in poor taste. Is it stupid to always be so worried about what you say to a person? Especially when you know that what you say is often poorly-worded, or strange, or just downright eccentric?]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don really isn't sure yet what he wants to say, but he feels his way through it as best he can.]

Robert... I don't understand what that part of your life was like, and I probably never will. I didn't have acquaintances before Luceti. But if that's your frame of reference, and you still don't see us as being different from that, then... I feel like a failure.

[semper_cogitans]

[An edge of anxiety creeps into Robert's voice, making it slightly shrill even though he doesn't quite look up.]

I understand this is d-different... or, by all rights, ought to be different - but I worry, perhaps e-entirely irrationally...

... [Softer, now:] It... is n-not you. Or, at least, I... am not certain wh-why it would be you... I have just never been p-particularly good at phrasing myself in such circumstances, and... the m-more troublesome the topic, the... more my poor phraseology is l-likely to... make the situation difficult to resolve...

[He's already done it even in conversations they've already had before. Even if they've managed to negotiate them...]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don stares at the grass for a long minute before replying, carefully:]

I don't mind if we have secrets from each other. But it's very important to me that when we want to share something, we feel safe, and that we're patient with each other in making sure we understand before we overreact.

[semper_cogitans]

... A-Are there ever things you... do not wish to sh-share with me...?

[Because Robert is worried that maybe Don doesn't share things for a similar reason. Or perhaps a completely different one.]

[i_speak_softly]

Well, sure...

[Hesitantly. Does this bother you?]

[semper_cogitans]

[Minorly, admittedly.]

... Is it because you w-worry as well? Or... is it something else...? ["Something else" meaning "something bad", probably.]

[i_speak_softly]

Not worry, exactly. But a lot of things from my past would be hard for you to hear, so I don't see the point of telling you.

[semper_cogitans]

... I... s-suppose that is your prerogative... [And Robert's voice suggests he's not sure himself how he might respond. After all, the pieces he's heard so far have generally been saddening - though nothing that's completely traumatized him, yet.] But it is... d-different, then...? Nothing that would be... i-important, necessarily...? [Or at least, nothing that would be terrible for him not to know?]

[i_speak_softly]

If it was important, I would tell you.

[semper_cogitans]

[The man makes a soft, affirming noise to himself.]

... A-And... you would obviously wish for me to... d-do the same...?

... Generally speaking, you know anything that... w-would be of importance about me, now. M-More than... anyone else, except p-perhaps my parents. Even that is d-debatable, in all honesty.

[But even so, there are things that are so hard to say. (Did you ever see his worrying about marriage or something, Don?)]

[i_speak_softly]

Of course.

[He resists the urge to look at Robert and read his expression: at moments like this, it feels unfair to do that to his thought-blind partner.]

[semper_cogitans]

[His expression might not actually be too especially-telling at the moment, though Don could probably glean something from it anyway.]

What remains... are often w-worries and... th-thoughts... worries I have about us, or about others here in Luceti. S-Some are, as I said, most likely irrational...

... Some perhaps... l-less so.

... I just... [He falters, and for a second seems to choke up, but regathers whatever courage he had and continues -] ... Can I be c-certain that we will... l-listen, rather than... than be driven apart by such things, if they are v-voiced?

[Even if Don and Benjamin are as different as night and day, he's afraid it could happen again.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Oh, Robert. Don can't ignore that obvious distress. He sits up on his knees, brushes the dirt from his plastron in a perfunctory way, and reaches to embrace his partner.]

I'll always listen. And... don't forget that people can be driven apart by secrets, too.

[semper_cogitans]

[He doesn't have to wait long for Robert's embrace, which comes shortly after Don turns around. The man doesn't really say anything for a few seconds; merely holds himself against Don in a way that suggests he is trying to communicate his emotions solely by the contact.]

... Yes... I s-suppose so...

[He's clearly weighing the odds internally, but at least he sounds a little better now.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Robert's obvious efforts to express himself non-verbally make Don not feel bad about reading every one of his partner's familiar signals. He listens, and he rocks the man gently, telling him it's all right.]

[semper_cogitans]

[This sort of deep-seated need for reassurance - something Robert has always needed - strikes a chord with the man, and he has to blink back hot tears as he nestles his cheek into the Turtle's shoulder.

When he speaks, though, his voice doesn't wobble as much, and there's the hint of a soft, if very small, smile against Don's scales.]

... Th-thank you.

[i_speak_softly]

[Don is quiet a while longer, letting Robert calm down, before he says:]

You have noticed that variations of this subject keep coming up, right?

[semper_cogitans]

... Yes. [And generally, if a problem comes up persistently, it's a sign that it should be dealt with.] Perhaps it means... that we must seriously d-discuss these matters, so I can... rid myself of any r-remaining doubts...

[i_speak_softly]

I'd like that. When you're ready.

[semper_cogitans]

... As would I.

[Robert releases Don gently then, and almost shyly takes the Turtle's hand in response.]

I... a-appreciate everything you have... shared with me today, Don.

[i_speak_softly]

[Don nods, his gaze turning sad as what they talked about is brought to mind again.]

It was important.

[And it was hard, but he can't ask Robert to do something he wouldn't do himself.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert's expression is... less sad and more sober, but he's certainly thinking about it in a less-than-positive way.]

... It was, and... I am glad that you would share it...

... [The man slides his gaze back towards the house. It's getting late and he should probably cook dinner soon...]

Do you... wish to go inside, soon...?

[i_speak_softly]

[In answer, Don stretches out his half-combed right wing.]

Is this going to bother you?

[semper_cogitans]

...

Yes. [It's a start on the honesty front, right?]