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Heyyyyyyyy, kiddo, you've reached me. Me who is Rhys. Anyway, not sure why you're trying to get in contact with the king of the dweebs, but I'm sure you've got your reasons. Reasons you should probably re-examine. I'm just sayin'.

Last chance to back out.

No?

Don't say I didn't warn ya.

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Mm.

[It's true, but--]

You'll put as much of the important stuff as you can in Dumpy?

Of course. You can count on me for that.

Good.

I don't know how storage for these robots works, but if there's room for personal messages--

-- a few could fit, so.

[ Lump in his throat: nearly audible. ]

Consider your spot reserved.

Yeah?

[There's a beat, and then-- no, he's not going to let himself be even cautiously hopeful, he decides.]

Well. You let me know if it pans out, and I'll do something up. Writing or video?

You can write something up and I can record it, but if you want your voice, you should -- video, or audio. Or. We see each other again.

I like the last idea a lot.

I'm not very good company just now.

Wh... we might never be, b-but I still would like to see you one... [ bre a k ] - more time.

Do you know something that I don't, Rhys, or is this just general hopelessness?

We're talking about maybe-final messages, I think I'm allowed to be morbid!

Yeah, all right. Only checking, mate.

Then, alls good, mate---y. Waitshit that's pirates.

Yeah. Yeah, it is.

[u tried tho Rhys]

Rhys I'm so sorry YOU AREN'T OLD OR STUPID

[ Typed in a rush, first thing in the morning, before any sensible people are awake. Because gOTTA SAY IT FAST ]

Come on video, brat.

[ Smiling, hair looking a little ruffled but no worse for wear. Least he didn't pluck himself bald. ]

[ VIDEO IT IS. Angel's also looking fine, as long as you ignore the expression of abject mortification on her face. ]

Teenagers freaking suck.

To be fair to Past You, I wasn't... suuuper tactful when I broke the Jack news.

But otherwise, yeah. You're fine now, though!

[ All of this is peppered by little coughs. His face is just a wee bit red.]

Unlike you. Are you wrapping up well enough? You seem sick. -Er than usual. As in Beckett-eating-mould-sick.

[ Does Rhys miss the fussing because wELL, ]

If you aren't safe to travel, don't. I can make my way towards you. I'm pretty sure I know where I am now that Dr. House has updated the ma-- Rhys I called him cool I CALLED HOUSE COOL.

[ A G O N Y ]

Pfft.

[ Another cough, even as he waves his hand dismissively.

His RIGHT hand. ]

I can walk fine, not gonna make you backtrack. Miss Andromeda's blanket, th-- whwhwait, you. You fed that dicknacho's ego?

Edited 2017-06-29 19:02 (UTC)

Dude! Your arm!

[ Well. That's one good thing to come out of this mess. Right? TOTES WORTH FREEZING TO DEATH FOR ]

I mean, um - eff that, I'm backtracking. Also shut up. Stupid. Teenager.

[ Rhys makes a very deliberate, though slightly janky fistpump. Cyborg repair is still not amazing in Snowhell. ]

You can't backtrack if I don't tell you where I am! ...you can, b-but don't.

There're only so many places you can get revived, and I got the only one over here. So I know I have to at least get back to the residential area, duh. And it isn't just for your sake! You know how I feel about being alone. And irradiated hellzones.

Rhys, I swear to god, I am going to destroy this fucking robot if Jack doesn't keep his goddamn mouth shut. Either tell me how to mute him or tell me how to delete him.

What.

[ That's one way to wake up a Reeser. His voice is strained and raspy, quiet despite his obvious distress.

Jack, in the background, titters. 'Language.']

No, nonono, it doesn't -- d-don't hurt him, okay??

You can shove your 'language' up your ass with a red hot fucking poker.

[ See? See what she's been reduced to? ]

Tell me how to delete him, or I'll delete them both.

Edited 2017-07-04 23:43 (UTC)

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morning 254; text; @guardian

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@Spoiler; audio; Morning 255

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