ic inbox

[headjacked]

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.

Comments

[headjacked]

Oh, I am, I-- I worry about a whole hell of a lot, since every day here is like... like rolling the dice.



That's... depressing, sorry, I'm being depressing. Super unhelpful.

[ His chin quivers, just a bit. ]

I'm no Angel, am I. Maybe you should talk to her. You. Probably should. Definitely.

[bookofnope]

[It is pretty depressing, but it's also something familiar, something he can understand and work through. It's certainly easier than the thought of talking to Angel about this.

So, let's just, conveniently not hear that part for now.]

It is what it is. You learn both sides of it in time. Control... and to move on from losing control. Self-loathing gets awfully dull after a while. And you learn that you aren't the worst thing about the world.

[Not his world, at least. Not by a long shot. And this is Norfinbury. Both of them are going to have to work pretty hard to be the worst thing about it.]