[ He makes a noise that outright sounds like nervous laughter, just that he's not very much the type to laugh in general so it's short. It carries itself as an undercurrent to his words though. ]
I saw him. He's here -- that stupid fucking cat that follows me everywhere.
[ He wheezes a little. Normally he'd hate to talk about it but he feels like he's drowning. He's in immeasurable pain, the monster they put inside him is crying out for the loss, and he feels like he's in the pit of dread, injured and helpless, while this thing is still pursuing him. He stares at the cracks in the ceiling like he expects yellow eyes to be staring at him back, to eat him alive if he lets himself lapse for even a second. ]
There's something that's been following me for an awful long time.
As long as I can remember, at least. Never knew what it was until I read an urban tale off the children's shelter's bookshelves. A classic bogeyman, almost -- he calls himself the Pocketcat.
He shouldn't be here. If I can't reach Sylvian trying then why should he? But I sensed... something terrible out there in the dark, outside the Side Rooms...
[ And, well. Naturally he got to get double-saddled with Yet Another Trauma that he just so happens to have something for. ]
I still feel it approaching. I can't just -- lie still, here.
[it's a little scary, but - she takes a deep breath, and shifts so that it looks like she's blocking the door. nothing can get in, nothing can get past. like the tank she is, like she could find a way to take the hits.
she rests her hand on his arm. gentle, but there.]
There's monsters in there, all kinds, that look like other things, right? That thing isn't here. Doesn't make sense for you to not be able to reach anything but that.
It's not here. But I can protect you until you can believe it.
[ He grasps onto that hand like a lifeline. Not that strongly, he's really been through it, but it's evident that he is holding on pretty desperately for his situation considered.
He doesn't believe her, not really. It's always there like a dreadful thing in his heart, a looming reality he can't escape. But he knows for a fact that he'd rather not be alone right now, and this is all he can ask for. As bad as he feels to put it on Karlach anyway. He closes his eye. ]
Anytime. [she says, and she means that. there are so many people here that she would drop everything for, and he's high up on that list. it's only been a couple of weeks, but it doesn't matter. when you're running on borrowed time, every second counts, and this is more important than anything. making people feel safe.
it's a little more fuel on the fire, on the dying hearth, extinguished by one of the worst weekends she's had in a while. feeling needed makes her feel alive.
so - he asks not to be alone, in so many words, and she holds his hand, grounding, protective. the shadows can't creep in.]
If you need me to talk away the nightmares, you just let me know.
If you've got things you want to get off your chest, be my welcome guest.
[ He can't ask much more of her and it sure would be something to ask her to just. Lull him to sleep or something. He's twenty-eight, for Alll-mer's sake, and in a nightmare village besides. He can't ask that, but she's welcome to if it helps her too. ]
[there's... probably a lot. there's a whole grinding, awful paragraph in her mouth that she could give, about this weekend. about how she already misses aerith, how she misses the rest of the dead, how the memories she's seen this week have been so terrible, how her memories of the hells nearly killed four people she cares about. about monsters and the people that are left behind.
she could talk about all that, but she doesn't. instead, she'll just... ramble aimlessly, for a bit.
she'll describe baldur's gate. tell little stupid stories about the things she did there, the trouble she got into. nothing important. just a voice to listen to, so the silence isn't overwhelming.]
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Good. Fuck shit balls damn. [lays on the floor. just straight up.]
It - doesn't matter now, I guess. I'm just glad you're safe.
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[ He makes a noise that outright sounds like nervous laughter, just that he's not very much the type to laugh in general so it's short. It carries itself as an undercurrent to his words though. ]
I saw him. He's here -- that stupid fucking cat that follows me everywhere.
no subject
she peers up at him.]
... When you tried to leave, yeah? What cat?
no subject
There's something that's been following me for an awful long time.
As long as I can remember, at least. Never knew what it was until I read an urban tale off the children's shelter's bookshelves. A classic bogeyman, almost -- he calls himself the Pocketcat.
He shouldn't be here. If I can't reach Sylvian trying then why should he? But I sensed... something terrible out there in the dark, outside the Side Rooms...
[ And, well. Naturally he got to get double-saddled with Yet Another Trauma that he just so happens to have something for. ]
I still feel it approaching. I can't just -- lie still, here.
no subject
she rests her hand on his arm. gentle, but there.]
There's monsters in there, all kinds, that look like other things, right? That thing isn't here. Doesn't make sense for you to not be able to reach anything but that.
It's not here. But I can protect you until you can believe it.
no subject
[ He makes a low, suffering noise -- but he takes a hold of her hand instead, clammy fingers grasping atop her scarlet skin. ]
Please.
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You're gonna be alright. [she says, her engine flaring slightly.] Nothing's coming for you. And if I'm wrong, you're wrong - I will stop it.
[confidently enough.]
no subject
He doesn't believe her, not really. It's always there like a dreadful thing in his heart, a looming reality he can't escape. But he knows for a fact that he'd rather not be alone right now, and this is all he can ask for. As bad as he feels to put it on Karlach anyway. He closes his eye. ]
Thank you.
no subject
it's a little more fuel on the fire, on the dying hearth, extinguished by one of the worst weekends she's had in a while. feeling needed makes her feel alive.
so - he asks not to be alone, in so many words, and she holds his hand, grounding, protective. the shadows can't creep in.]
If you need me to talk away the nightmares, you just let me know.
no subject
[ He can't ask much more of her and it sure would be something to ask her to just. Lull him to sleep or something. He's twenty-eight, for Alll-mer's sake, and in a nightmare village besides. He can't ask that, but she's welcome to if it helps her too. ]
no subject
she could talk about all that, but she doesn't. instead, she'll just... ramble aimlessly, for a bit.
she'll describe baldur's gate. tell little stupid stories about the things she did there, the trouble she got into. nothing important. just a voice to listen to, so the silence isn't overwhelming.]