Just some food for thought. Some people just aren't ever meant for that sort of thing, you know? It's hard to accept but it's easier once you do. But if, were to say, you're like fire, then we'll always be diacritically opposed. Maybe we'll never meet on that end. On the other hand, we won't exist if there isn't the other. But I've never been afraid of fire, don't worry.
Burn out if you want to. I'll stoke the embers when you're ready to come back.
[i feel like i'm being deathflagged this weekend is going to be a nightmare if so
karlach curls up, bringing her legs in and close, tail jittering. she can't sit still normally, and it's worse tonight. for a moment, she doesn't say anything, too tired and too overheated to figure out words. he might see the sweat at her hairline, this close up.
and then, finally:]
I don't think I can come back, if I let myself. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate you.
somehow, she feels like she's disappointed him, and her thoughts almost reflect that - a tired, anxious mess of things. nothing distinct, just aborted trains of thoughts of what to do next, where she needs to go, and then giving up.
silence, and then:]
I don't know what that means. What you're thinking.
[it also doesn't sound like his normal thoughts presumably]
[ And yet, despite the odds, he's still alive. He always lives.
Even in the stupid tournament today. Two others with him known combatants. The other one, probably at least a strategist. And yet why was he the only one not to experience death?
He thinks of the way he wandered the final eve of Prehevil, past the shore, back into the city, through the church basement, the secret alleyway. That thing that used to be O'saa, based on the distinct garb. It could've taken off his other arm, killed him right then and there with ease. But still when faced with the danger, he ran in with the weapon first before Hurting could be cast. ]
Still don't feel like just rolling over and dying...
Please don't. [she looks up at him finally, and reaches out a hand to just set it on whatever she can reach.] Even if there's another side, I'd be miserable if you were gone.
she'll go outside - is gone for a bit. when she comes back, she has the dog plush they'd won earlier this week. some water bottles, and a churro in a paper bag, inexplicably. she comes back in and sits on the edge of his bed. she puts tulip the dog next to him, and then hands him a water bottle.
she fetch good!!!]
Pesto and I had these, and I thought they were really good. So.
[the churro, she means. she won't force him to eat it or anything but!!]
[ He feels like a kid in a hospital... his thoughts seem to vaguely reflect this, thinking of some dingy place, of courtesans doing their best to celebrate the little things with the meagerest of coins they all collectively had -- birthdays, getting well. ]
Miss Kate and I also tried some. They're pretty good.
[it is a little like that honestly. they do what they can with the shit they've got, and what they've got isn't much.
she slides back down to the floor so she can curl up against the side again, closing her eyes.]
You're welcome. [...] Love you.
[just because. she doesn't seem to expect any response to it, stretching idly before easing back down. apparently her intention is to stay here until he tells her to leave, or she absolutely has to go to meet up with her curfew.]
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Sorry. I'm... [her tail swishes across the floor. she abandons whatever she was going to say.] Maybe it's a breaking point, but not with you.
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I'm burning out, meds. In a lot of ways.
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[But they don't know how to handle it.]
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Burn out if you want to. I'll stoke the embers when you're ready to come back.
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karlach curls up, bringing her legs in and close, tail jittering. she can't sit still normally, and it's worse tonight. for a moment, she doesn't say anything, too tired and too overheated to figure out words. he might see the sweat at her hairline, this close up.
and then, finally:]
I don't think I can come back, if I let myself. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate you.
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Oh...?
Is that so.
[ He just sits there, letting the quiet settle.
Some things just aren't meant to be. ]
...That's fine too, of course. Staying afloat from the beginning would've probably been the better option to begin with.
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somehow, she feels like she's disappointed him, and her thoughts almost reflect that - a tired, anxious mess of things. nothing distinct, just aborted trains of thoughts of what to do next, where she needs to go, and then giving up.
silence, and then:]
I don't know what that means. What you're thinking.
[it also doesn't sound like his normal thoughts presumably]
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And yeah, sure. Kind of. Whatever the other voice is, it sounds comparatively delightful actually. Quite cheerful. ]
I'm tired of thinking too.
...
Night's coming soon. You'll get locked in if you tarry too long.
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the thing is he can probably tell she doesn't want to leave like, at all. she doesn't even bother moving to get up when he says it.]
If I go, you might not be here the next time I come back.
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[ And yet, despite the odds, he's still alive. He always lives.
Even in the stupid tournament today. Two others with him known combatants. The other one, probably at least a strategist. And yet why was he the only one not to experience death?
He thinks of the way he wandered the final eve of Prehevil, past the shore, back into the city, through the church basement, the secret alleyway. That thing that used to be O'saa, based on the distinct garb. It could've taken off his other arm, killed him right then and there with ease. But still when faced with the danger, he ran in with the weapon first before Hurting could be cast. ]
Still don't feel like just rolling over and dying...
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Please don't. [she looks up at him finally, and reaches out a hand to just set it on whatever she can reach.] Even if there's another side, I'd be miserable if you were gone.
[like she isn't already getting there, but.]
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[ In the end he's always at least admitted that much, that he just wouldn't make the choice to simply drop dead. ]
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[silence, for a moment, and then:]
I'll be right back. Not done bothering you yet, just - be right back.
[pulling herself up to stand, wiping her forehead with her arm.]
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[ He really just does not feel like leaving the cabin, his weird comfort hole that's just a crowded house full of dogs (literal and also people). ]
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she'll go outside - is gone for a bit. when she comes back, she has the dog plush they'd won earlier this week. some water bottles, and a churro in a paper bag, inexplicably. she comes back in and sits on the edge of his bed. she puts tulip the dog next to him, and then hands him a water bottle.
she fetch good!!!]
Pesto and I had these, and I thought they were really good. So.
[the churro, she means. she won't force him to eat it or anything but!!]
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[ He feels like a kid in a hospital... his thoughts seem to vaguely reflect this, thinking of some dingy place, of courtesans doing their best to celebrate the little things with the meagerest of coins they all collectively had -- birthdays, getting well. ]
Miss Kate and I also tried some. They're pretty good.
Thanks.
[ Sweet... ]
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she slides back down to the floor so she can curl up against the side again, closing her eyes.]
You're welcome. [...] Love you.
[just because. she doesn't seem to expect any response to it, stretching idly before easing back down. apparently her intention is to stay here until he tells her to leave, or she absolutely has to go to meet up with her curfew.]