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ＭｏＭ; ɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ
[ text | voice | video | action ]
[ text | voice | video | action ]
[ She picks up. When she does, her voice is ragged and hoarse. But she does pick up. In the background of the call is the hustle and bustle of a hospital - muffled PA system announcements, conversation, beeps and mechanical sounds. ]
I'm fine. I wasn't lying. I just - failed.
I'm fine. I wasn't lying. I just - failed.
Yeah.
[ She takes a breath. God knows she owes Thomas that much. So she starts, speaking as carefully and dispassionately as she can - not because she's afraid of emotion, but simply because the fear gas is still in her system, and she needs control. ]
I broke in earlier tonight - like I told you. I found Crane easily enough: I had the municipal maps of where the water hookups were to Lucifer's church, so I was looking through the bathrooms and found the one closest to where he was. I found him, and got him alone in a room, locked the door. I had my knife out - he hit me with fear gas, which I knew was a possibility, but I'd assumed that I'd react like I did before, just cut his throat and run. But my reaction this time was different. I saw him as something...sad and pathetic instead, and so I couldn't kill him. I got out, obviously, but without pulling him out with me.
[ She takes a breath. God knows she owes Thomas that much. So she starts, speaking as carefully and dispassionately as she can - not because she's afraid of emotion, but simply because the fear gas is still in her system, and she needs control. ]
I broke in earlier tonight - like I told you. I found Crane easily enough: I had the municipal maps of where the water hookups were to Lucifer's church, so I was looking through the bathrooms and found the one closest to where he was. I found him, and got him alone in a room, locked the door. I had my knife out - he hit me with fear gas, which I knew was a possibility, but I'd assumed that I'd react like I did before, just cut his throat and run. But my reaction this time was different. I saw him as something...sad and pathetic instead, and so I couldn't kill him. I got out, obviously, but without pulling him out with me.
that's good.
[ maybe. he doesn't really know what things are like between kanaya and rose anymore, and hadn't really to begin with, but it's not his business. least of all with how long he'd been gone, and the fact he hasn't even seen her himself yet. he hadn't been able to walk back into that house to see her, after he'd heard about newt being gone. didn't want to look at his room and know what he'd been taken back to. face it so starkly that he'd failed to keep him safe again. he should see rose, though. try to, at least. ]
if you were on fire and still texting me that'd still be pretty damn impressive. but yes, it's good to know. i'm glad you're not on fire, kanaya.
anything big go down while i was out?
[ maybe. he doesn't really know what things are like between kanaya and rose anymore, and hadn't really to begin with, but it's not his business. least of all with how long he'd been gone, and the fact he hasn't even seen her himself yet. he hadn't been able to walk back into that house to see her, after he'd heard about newt being gone. didn't want to look at his room and know what he'd been taken back to. face it so starkly that he'd failed to keep him safe again. he should see rose, though. try to, at least. ]
if you were on fire and still texting me that'd still be pretty damn impressive. but yes, it's good to know. i'm glad you're not on fire, kanaya.
anything big go down while i was out?
Good to know. That you can stand it. Everything else is awful.
Ever want to train those abilities of yours, let me know.
Ever want to train those abilities of yours, let me know.
for now. i don't think it works like building up tolerance. [ more like you start out with a limit of what you can take, and thomas just hasn't hit that limit yet. maybe. at least not to the point that he's gone permenantly nuts yet. he's thought, before, at home, that he'd been so close to getting pushed over that edge. and WICKED had been trying their hardest to get him there. ]
there used to be a woman here, emma frost, who was awesome with it. she worked at the xavier import school. taught me a lot, but she's been gone for a while. i wouldn't mind picking training back up.
there used to be a woman here, emma frost, who was awesome with it. she worked at the xavier import school. taught me a lot, but she's been gone for a while. i wouldn't mind picking training back up.
Oh well. Then it's more a matter of not getting into situations that might make you lose control.
Great. I'm pretty sure whatever she taught you and what I can teach you are completely different things, but there's ought to be some common ground. Hit me up when you feel like training that brain of yours.
Great. I'm pretty sure whatever she taught you and what I can teach you are completely different things, but there's ought to be some common ground. Hit me up when you feel like training that brain of yours.
easier said than done. not like i head for them on purpose.
she helped me with mental shielding and range. that and suggestion. mind control kind of stuff. [ which is very fortunately something that he has to concentrate to enact, and not something that happens on its own, or he would've been causing a lot more chaos, and probably death, in that incident on the campus. ]
she helped me with mental shielding and range. that and suggestion. mind control kind of stuff. [ which is very fortunately something that he has to concentrate to enact, and not something that happens on its own, or he would've been causing a lot more chaos, and probably death, in that incident on the campus. ]
I guess some people here actually do walk into trouble willingly, but most of us? Not really.
I can help you with all that, actually. I would probably like to figure a way to help you regain your cool if you are put under duress or something like what happened back then, but we can work on expanding your skill just as well.
I can help you with all that, actually. I would probably like to figure a way to help you regain your cool if you are put under duress or something like what happened back then, but we can work on expanding your skill just as well.
kitty jones. that's who you're thinking of. [ shut up, thomas, you have no room to talk mister 'everyone told me running into the maze at night is a death sentence so i did it anyway' ]
not getting drugged would be a great solution to that. wouldn't hurt to have some other tips.
not getting drugged would be a great solution to that. wouldn't hurt to have some other tips.
Sure, why not. Let's put a name with the tag.
What else can you do?
What else can you do?
[ for a while, thomas stands there, watching him. unsure how to feel about it - guilty, touched, irritated even? numb, is what comes. empty. all of the caring he's had poured and drained out of him, and he doesn't bother flicking the lights back on. just lets out a quiet exhale, looking down at his muddy shoes, and begins to toe them off.
he doesn't know what to say to grey. certainly doesn't have the energy to explain what happened, and, unusual for them, isn't opening his mind up to the typical connection they converse over.
too much in his head lately. he can't stomach the idea of more at the moment.
thomas's socks follow, and he pads across the floor with his toes dragging at the carpet, and when he gets to the bed, flops forward, chest-first, onto the mattress. he doesn't think he'll be able to sleep, but at least he's not moving anymore. as for grey, he's not really sure if he's glad to have him here, and not be alone, or if he'd rather the room be as empty as he'd like his head to be. eventually, he rolls, moving himself to let the side of his head touch the side of grey's, where he's leaned against the bed. hey, buddy. ]
he doesn't know what to say to grey. certainly doesn't have the energy to explain what happened, and, unusual for them, isn't opening his mind up to the typical connection they converse over.
too much in his head lately. he can't stomach the idea of more at the moment.
thomas's socks follow, and he pads across the floor with his toes dragging at the carpet, and when he gets to the bed, flops forward, chest-first, onto the mattress. he doesn't think he'll be able to sleep, but at least he's not moving anymore. as for grey, he's not really sure if he's glad to have him here, and not be alone, or if he'd rather the room be as empty as he'd like his head to be. eventually, he rolls, moving himself to let the side of his head touch the side of grey's, where he's leaned against the bed. hey, buddy. ]
[ People paying attention to Rose in a positive way is something Kanaya will always advocate. Especially now, when she isn't sure any attention she could give would feel positive. It should still be done, even if vicariously. ]
you know i probably could manage that
though you may not be towards the top of my texting list if i were currently on fire
not entirely sure how long id hold out under those circumstances
also the devil was doing devilish things
imports rampaged under his influence and people died
so basically its the same as it ever was
you know i probably could manage that
though you may not be towards the top of my texting list if i were currently on fire
not entirely sure how long id hold out under those circumstances
also the devil was doing devilish things
imports rampaged under his influence and people died
so basically its the same as it ever was
then accept the sex bed
or sleep on the lawn
or sleep on the lawn
[ Grey doesn't move. He doesn't reach for Thomas' mind, and doesn't touch Thomas, either. Something is badly wrong. Everything is wrong. Thomas had said he was fine, and he's the least fine Grey has ever seen him.
Grey has seen him overcome with grief. Trembling with fear and sickness. He has seen him cry, he has seen him scream.
And in all of that, Thomas has never shut him out. Not like this.
Nothing could be more frightening than that.
Then Thomas touches him, gently, and Grey's head turns just a fraction. He doesn't know if that's an invitation or just an acknowledgement, and none of it does anything to stem his worry. He will kill the person who did this to his friend. He will rend them apart.
Lightly, tentatively, he reaches to run his hand over Thomas' shoulder. What's wrong? Will you talk? What happened? ]
Grey has seen him overcome with grief. Trembling with fear and sickness. He has seen him cry, he has seen him scream.
And in all of that, Thomas has never shut him out. Not like this.
Nothing could be more frightening than that.
Then Thomas touches him, gently, and Grey's head turns just a fraction. He doesn't know if that's an invitation or just an acknowledgement, and none of it does anything to stem his worry. He will kill the person who did this to his friend. He will rend them apart.
Lightly, tentatively, he reaches to run his hand over Thomas' shoulder. What's wrong? Will you talk? What happened? ]
[ it feels like the scorch, after the storm took half of them out. all of them exhausted, couldn't move another inch from where they'd all fallen against the wall in the husk of a building they took shelter in, and just the cold, empty silence between them. the knowledge of how many they just lost, friends they'll never see again.
one second, they were walking beside them; talking, complaining, maybe joking, and not even ten minutes later, they'll never see them again. not even a body left. they're just gone.
that's how thomas feels now. it's all just gone. done, and there's no undoing it or fixing it. but hey, he survived, right? isn't that what everyone keeps going on about? how he'd pulled through it? like that somehow makes it better, or makes him better, or counts for anything at all aside from being one of the last ones standing.
"Sometimes I wonder", he'd told Newt, in what could barely be considered a murmur, while the others sat or laid motionless around them. "If being alive matters. If being dead might be a lot easier."
newt hadn't believed he'd really thought that, then, and thomas swallows, throat feeling raw. maybe he doesn't. maybe he just wants to, maybe that'd be an easier response to process. he doesn't know. he doesn't know anything anymore. grey's hand touches thomas's shoulder, and he doesn't move, not into it, not away from it, not even a twitch if recognition of the contact. but his eyes do, gradually, blink closed, and weariness starts to seep into his bones, sleep edging on his consciousness.
what's under him is a comfortable mattress with plush blankets and pillows, nothing like the hard earth and irritating sand from the scorch, or the biting cold after the sun fell, but somehow it feels the same to him, once his eyes shut. like he never left. like he never will. ]
one second, they were walking beside them; talking, complaining, maybe joking, and not even ten minutes later, they'll never see them again. not even a body left. they're just gone.
that's how thomas feels now. it's all just gone. done, and there's no undoing it or fixing it. but hey, he survived, right? isn't that what everyone keeps going on about? how he'd pulled through it? like that somehow makes it better, or makes him better, or counts for anything at all aside from being one of the last ones standing.
"Sometimes I wonder", he'd told Newt, in what could barely be considered a murmur, while the others sat or laid motionless around them. "If being alive matters. If being dead might be a lot easier."
newt hadn't believed he'd really thought that, then, and thomas swallows, throat feeling raw. maybe he doesn't. maybe he just wants to, maybe that'd be an easier response to process. he doesn't know. he doesn't know anything anymore. grey's hand touches thomas's shoulder, and he doesn't move, not into it, not away from it, not even a twitch if recognition of the contact. but his eyes do, gradually, blink closed, and weariness starts to seep into his bones, sleep edging on his consciousness.
what's under him is a comfortable mattress with plush blankets and pillows, nothing like the hard earth and irritating sand from the scorch, or the biting cold after the sun fell, but somehow it feels the same to him, once his eyes shut. like he never left. like he never will. ]
[ Grey watches him, unhappy and not sure what to think. After a moment, he takes his hand away, but his eyes are heavy on Thomas’ shape. They’re not going to talk, he thinks, and Thomas isn’t responding to his touch. He reminds Grey more of Curtis than ever, because Curtis had moods like this. Black moods. Moods when no one was allowed to touch, and when he just wanted to be alone, in a place where it was impossible to be alone.
It’s not impossible for Thomas, though. They share this room, but that doesn’t mean that Grey has to be here. Thomas is safe now. He’s not at the swear in, he’s not out in whatever happened there. He’s here.
So, knowing that, Grey can give him his space. He retreats to the window seat and texts Drew again, even though it’s late. He’d said it was okay, and now Grey is just hoping that’s true. His eyes flick from the screen to Thomas. He feels like his concentration is skittering, warring between the need to give Thomas what he wants, and the urge to keep him safe, to protect him, to not fail him, the way he’d failed Gilliam. But it’s already too late for that, isn’t it? Thomas has already been hurt, and Grey wasn’t there. This is the result.
No wonder he doesn’t want to talk.
Drew replies. It’s fairly instant, and Grey’s fingers tighten around his phone. He looks at Thomas again, that dark, silent shape. His heart constricts, and then he opens the window, and drops out of it. He will give him space to be alone. That’s the least that he can do. ]
It’s not impossible for Thomas, though. They share this room, but that doesn’t mean that Grey has to be here. Thomas is safe now. He’s not at the swear in, he’s not out in whatever happened there. He’s here.
So, knowing that, Grey can give him his space. He retreats to the window seat and texts Drew again, even though it’s late. He’d said it was okay, and now Grey is just hoping that’s true. His eyes flick from the screen to Thomas. He feels like his concentration is skittering, warring between the need to give Thomas what he wants, and the urge to keep him safe, to protect him, to not fail him, the way he’d failed Gilliam. But it’s already too late for that, isn’t it? Thomas has already been hurt, and Grey wasn’t there. This is the result.
No wonder he doesn’t want to talk.
Drew replies. It’s fairly instant, and Grey’s fingers tighten around his phone. He looks at Thomas again, that dark, silent shape. His heart constricts, and then he opens the window, and drops out of it. He will give him space to be alone. That’s the least that he can do. ]
because it's been a rough week
i won't lie to you
and promise that
i won't lie to you
and promise that
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