unbr8kable | IC Inbox

Nemesis!: really
Nemesis!: thats it ?

[The program indicates she is typing on and off for a good fifteen minutes]

Nemesis!: whatd hurricane say

Cobalt: still waiting to hear back

[Another long stretch of sporadic typing indicators]

Nemesis!: make him do it
Nemesis!: he likes your stupid face

Cobalt: do you have any tips on how to persuade him that he's allowed to do things that help him feel better?
Cobalt: i get the impression he thinks the fact that he feels upset about something that was legitimately upsetting means he's weak, instead of like
Cobalt: a normal human person
Cobalt: he's acting like he is obligated to torment himself for the crime of being sad
Cobalt: please advise

Nemesis!: like he listens to me
Nemesis!: if i could do something like that i wouldhve already
Nemesis!: instead i am completely worthless
Nemesis!: use the taser thing maybe

[now don't YOU start]

Cobalt: what about you?
Cobalt: is it something you would be willing to try?
Cobalt: hurricane cares about you a lot, so maybe if you do it, it'll help him feel more comfortable giving it a try, too

Edited 2019-11-13 07:35 (UTC)

Nemesis!: idk abt all that
Nemesis!: but maybe
Nemesis!: later

Cobalt: alright
Cobalt: i don't have anything to do today so feel free to ping me whenever

Nemesis!: ko

[Nemesis! is typing... flicks on and off for a good while after that, but no message comes]

[marked as read.

No more messages appear to be forthcoming.]

[Hours (days? what is time) later, there is activity again. And eventually:]

Nemesis!: ok
Nemesis!: i mean sure why not iguess
Nemesis!: if you want

Cobalt: sounds good
Cobalt: where should i meet you?

Nemesis!: roof. . .?

Cobalt: cool
Cobalt: see you in a few

[The message is marked as read, and the replies go quiet, ostensibly as the phone's owner heads upstairs]

[avante's dorm is closer to the roof, so if they left at the same time, she probably beat him.

Regardless, he's there within a few minutes, a brown paper lunch bag in one hand. He smiles when he sees her.]

Hey.

[She nods back from the absolute middle of the roof area, though she honestly looks ready to bolt. It looks like she's had better days, eyes bloodshot, dark shadows beneath them.

Gestures at his bag]

... Is this an actual drug deal?

If by "drugs" you mean "a sandwich" then yes. It is absolutely a drug deal.

...What does sandwiches have to do with anything?

If you get hungry, you can eat it?

When's the last time you ate?

[Stares at him blankly... What...is time...?]

'M not hungry, so prolly not that long ago...

[From her expression, she has no recollection either way, but she waves her hand, dismissing the topic]

Anyways, forget your lunch. Maybe I wanna try your power thing, I guess.

Sure.

[He extends a hand, palm up]

Give me your hand?

[Hesitates, but eventually offers her own. It isn't quite steady]

[At the contact, the sensation is like a rush of clean water through her mind, sweeping everything dark out of the corners of her psyche and washing it away. Fear, insecurity, sadness, shame — every negative emotion that's been weighing her down — is swept into the distance, so far away it can no longer touch her.

Left behind is a feeling of warmth and well-being, and a gentle lightheartedness that wasn't there before.]

Oh--

--Oh.

[She stands up straighter, tension draining from her shoulders and jaw. Barks out a laugh, kind of incredulously stunned. She keeps hold of his hand]

That's--wow.

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