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[deadelfwalking]

 

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"Leave a message, if you must."

image from obliterating <3

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[totallytrustworthy]

...Sonya?

[deadelfwalking]

[he grinds his teeth, spitting the name as though referring to some species of intrusive vermin.]

Yes. Ms. Karimov. She is a cruel, vile snake of a woman.

[totallytrustworthy]

Ah....[Cue one quizzical little stare as she tries to match up the description with the name. One of these things is not like the other; one of these things just doesn't belong.]

Starting to think you might know a different Sonya, here.

[deadelfwalking]

[He gestures to his tablet, sitting on a half of a table in the front room. Walking over, he pages to the appropriate threads--both from his post, and from his own messages.]

See for yourself.

[totallytrustworthy]

Oh Christ. [She pinches her brow once she's done-- once the reality of it seeps in.] Tell you what I'll do us all a favor and send out a mass transport memo to stop the teenage romantics.

[Seriously, though:] You okay...?

[deadelfwalking]

If they were young, I would find their behavior more forgivable.

[He runs a slightly-trembling hand through his hair.]

... but no. I am. I am not.

[totallytrustworthy]

Oi, easy sweetheart. [Chloe closes the distance between them without hesitation, brushing back a few stray strands that he's missed with those clawed gauntlets of his.] Know it's cliche to say it, but...it'll pass.

[deadelfwalking]

[He leans against her hand, instinctively. It's such a nice, gentle gesture, and he's so grateful for it. But he's still shaking, trembling now, all over.]

I don't ... know that it will.

[totallytrustworthy]

[He earns himself her full attention with that, and the continued scuff of her fingertips against his scalp.]

Well optimism's never been my strong suit but I'd say that for all this nonsense aside you've plenty of people in your life willing to take a bullet for you.

[deadelfwalking]

[sigh. so very nice. even so, he mutters.]

Truly? I seem to have far more willing to be the shooter.

[sorry, girl. but it's true.]

[totallytrustworthy]

And so do I, but that doesn't negate the lads and ladies willing to watch my back at the risk of their own.

[deadelfwalking]

[he pulls away.]

You and I are not the same.

[totallytrustworthy]

No, but that doesn't mean what I'd do for you means any less, yeah? [She's patient, even when he draws back.]

[deadelfwalking]

[He stares at the rough woodgrain of his table, frowning, his head pounding.]

Yes. You have done so much for me recently, after all.

[totallytrustworthy]

Okay, you know what-- [There's the edge of exhaustion in her voice when she starts, patience waning despite the fact that it's still winning out.] I know we've had our rough spots but I like to think you're not about to forget what good I have done.

[deadelfwalking]

[He shakes his head. His attention is still fixed on the table, but his voice is softer, apologetic.]

No. I have not forgotten. You are my only friend, now.

[totallytrustworthy]

Oh stop. [It's gentle-- suddenly so-- when Chloe moves to settle down beside him. His inherent chill versus the warmth of her fingers as they find a spot across the bulk of his shoulder.

Doesn't matter if he wants contact or not. He's getting it.] That isn't true.

[deadelfwalking]

[He honestly can't think of anyone else. And Martin is outside of that distinction; Martin is not his friend, Martin is his -- not his child, exactly, but certainly not his friend. Something else entirely.

He shakes his head.]

I'm afraid it is. The distinction is yours alone.

[totallytrustworthy]

Well, [If that's the right of it, and she's not entirely convinced if only because elves are drama queens in the general sense though his reasons are justified:] I've spent more than a few years of my life alone, and I've got to say-- grossly optimistic as it may sound-- it's never too late to start over.