IC Contact Post

[therushingsky]

"Heyyyy, you've reached the head office of the Atlas Corporation, leave a message and your number, and one of our people will get back to you."

Comments

text: private

[magician_king]

... --- ...

Re: text: private

[therushingsky]

Is that morse code?

ARE YOU DYING????

MORE DASHES FOR YES & I'LL COME FIND YOU!

Re: text: private

[magician_king]

omfg rhys

you have no chill

I'm coming over.

Re: text: private

[therushingsky]

Why would I have any chill right now???

I'm in the new cabin.

[magician_king]

He turns up a few hours later, absolutely exhausted, and knocks.

[therushingsky]

It takes Rhys a little while to get to the door, still a little pale from the death toll, his cybernetic arm strapped up so the weight of it isn't dragging too heavily on his neck and shoulder, without muscular support.

And he still thinks Quentin looks bad.

"Wow. I hate to say this to you, Buddy, but you guys need to split that 24 hour watch up into shifts or something..."

[magician_king]

"No, I'm out of the roster. They left."

He says, and pulls his glasses off, wiping them very casually with his eyes shut.

"So my apartment's really empty right now. Can I be here for a couple of hours?"

[therushingsky]

Rhys's kneejerk assumption is that they left to go to the infirmary for a night. Or the enclosure. Something therapeutic.

"Yeah, of course. Are you sure you don't want to grab some sleep before they need you back, though?"

Still, he steps back, clearing the way for Quentin to enter.

[magician_king]

"No, like- for a few weeks, left. Me."

He says, voice a little more tight.

"J says he'll work on it. Radio silence from Fives."

[therushingsky]

The disbelief on Rhys's face is smooth and blank and complete.

He has a lot of thoughts and a lot of opinions.

"Well. I guess in a way that's a good thing."

He extends his one arm to Quentin, c'mere and let him hug you.

"I basically just want to lay in bed and cry right now anyway, so that's a good group activity for us."

[magician_king]

"I'm into team sports."

He says, crumpling, face hiding in his hair, heart suddenly in his throat.

[therushingsky]

Rhys hugs Quentin tight with his one arm.

He doesn't know the details right now, but he has this big vague angry weight in him. This cruel voice that says Quentin's pain - like Rhys's - was too small and too human to be factored into whatever Jedao is doing right now.

Irrationally, he feels like they're both acceptable collateral in the same attack,

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He mumbles against the other man, "Or no?"

[magician_king]

He shakes his head, no, and then decides to anyways, letting him known in a whisper;

"We argued. I said some stuff there's no taking back. They're deciding what to do, I guess. I just- how did I come out of this hating myself, you know? How?"

Holding on tighter.

[therushingsky]

"You remember that like, the third message you sent me after this went down was the unsolicited announcement that a murder spree that I just died in wasn't enough for you to break up with Jedao?"

Rhys points out. His voice is soft and low, not critical,

"I don't need to know what you said, or whether you were right or wrong to feel like maybe you're being held to an unfair standard in this."

[magician_king]

"J's all in. I mean, he's moved out, but he still wants to see me. It's just- Fives."

Voice breaking, before he decides;

"I don't think I can talk about this. Can we just- you don't have a tv, do you? Did we get you a tv?"

[therushingsky]

"It's okay, it's okay-- yeah, I have the expandable home cinema system."

You shouldn't have let him design his own room, Quentin. He shifts a little bit, his eye whirrs, and a frankly unnecessarily large screen descends majestically from the ceiling in front of his huge darkwood four poster bed.

"Hold on, just let me draw back the velvet curtains, and we can flop on the bed and watch something..."

He means that literally. There are extremely fancy velvet curtains making up the bed's canopy.

You shouldn't have let him design his own room, he's just made it a weird robo-prince's trashy new money mansion.

[magician_king]

"I like your duvet," says Quentin, not out of desperation this time but as a soft, vaguely damp joke.

They've been here before. Funny to be choosing to come back.

[therushingsky]

Rhys gets it, and gives a little hum of acknowledgement that isn't really a laugh.

He tugs Quentin back towards the bed, has to release him to push open the curtains enough for them to have a little television watching window, then grabs him again to tug him onto the duvet in a companionable sprawl.

He doesn't turn the TV on immediately. Just lays in a slump with the other man for a minute, staring at the string bulb lights that are absolutely wrapped around the inside of the canopy.

"This sucks, right? Just this whole thing, completely sucks."

[magician_king]

"My partner murdering you and me losing the moral highground, or this chandelier?"

Asks Quentin, from an obedient sprawl on his back, blinking at the lights overhead.

"I think the chandelier is- kind of okay?"

[therushingsky]

The softest, lightest little smack on the leg.

"Don't attack me like this right now! I'm very vulnerable!"

The chandelier is perfect, you monster.

[magician_king]

He throws an arm over his eyes, and breathes all the way out.

"Have you been in touch with Jedao at all?"

[therushingsky]

"We spoke the day after. He apologised."

Rhys pauses, then, actually, grabs his communicator and thumbs his way down to the conversation in question, handing it to Quentin.

He doesn't look like a saint in it. He doesn't really care right now.

[magician_king]

He hesitates a moment, then listens, rolling onto his side and tucking his forehead to Rhys's shoulders, hitching up into a fetal position and pressing his knees against his side.

"I admire that you never say quite what you're supposed to."

[therushingsky]

"I can't win a conversation with him. He'll always tie me in knots. If I had a long conversation with him then, then it would have ended in a situation where he'd murdered me and I was apologizing to him for it."

Rhys sounds bitter. Sounds tired. Wraps his arm around Quentin.

"And like, he'll have reasons. I get that it's all because of a million shitty things that are bigger and more intense and more important than anything that's ever happened to me, but-- Y'know what, if I'm no big deal to him, whatever. I'm a big deal to me. I don't want to be talked out of caring about how this felt to me and not to him. And I know he could."

So he chooses not to engage with that.

[magician_king]

"When he loves you enough to protect you it isn't like that. He's so careful. He remembers- the littlest things I've told him upset me, the things I've asked for other times I've been in trouble."

He explains, softly.

"I say this so you know I'm not in trouble." Shifting closer, into that grip. "But I also agree that you are a big deal."