patheticvillain | eleven ➢ private + spam

Entry tags:

eleven ➢ private + spam

private/video | chris

[Cassel is looking just - crazy excited right now. For him, anyway; he's grinning wide, one of his legs jogging as he speaks.]

Hey, Skywalker. [Guess who got out early. And guess who's caught up with what you've been doing.]

Point one, hi, but I said that. Point two, you totally are a weapon of mass destruction, I don't know why you never used that line on me before. Point three, I have a billion things to tell you, starting with - Star Wars?

spam 1 {mid-afternoon 5/13; deck}

[The first thing Cassel does when he gets out of Zero - besides calling Chris, which always comes first - is he takes Patches up on deck. It's kind of stupid, but he's missed this dog like crazy, and he's more than happy to spend an hour or two in the fresh air throwing a ball for him.]

[For those who know him, he looks weirdly content, like a weight's been lifted; for those who don't, he looks a hell of a lot more like a normal kid than he's ever looked before.]

spam 2 {mid-afternoon thru evening 5/13; gym}

[When Kon suggested he start working in the gym for real, it had seemed like a weird idea at first, but the more he thinks about it the more it seems like - maybe it wouldn't be so bad. So he says he'll try it out, at least, and if he's going to try he's going to start right away. No point waiting.]

[He's still learning the ropes beyond just cleaning tonight, but he's around, keeping things as organized as he can on Kon's direction.]

private/video | doyle

[The camera's on to prove a point: that he's genuine about this, because he is, extremely. Discomfort shows on his face, because he's not used to apologizing, and he can't look at the camera for more than a couple seconds at a time, but he goes for it anyway.]

Hi. Um.

I'd like to talk to you, if that's cool. Here or in person. Or I can just text if you'd rather do that, I - you know. Whatever you want.

private/voice | steph

Do you still wanna skip the apology? Because I have one. Up to you.

private/voice, later | zane

[It's tempting to yell at Zane, or to ask if he's okay, or to say nothing at all, or to go find him in person now that he can. None of these sound particularly right, though, especially after everything he's ~~stalked~~ read over the last hour or so, so he reverts to sarcasm. Decently affectionate sarcasm, but sarcasm nonetheless.]

You're such an idiot. I feel like you should win a prize for being as much of an idiot as you are.

private/text | barron

pizza?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Otherwise I wouldn't have tried to make you help me.

[Give him a moment to stare at nothing and try to figure this out. Spoilers: he can't because it's stupid.]

But I wouldn't helped you without you making me because you're a tool but you're okay.

[This also doesn't make sense. But.]

Anyway, you trusted me.

[ To touch his emotions. ]

And it's not... as important as it sounds. I've had a lot of half-brothers. Almost all of them are dead.

Yeah, I did. And then you told me to leave.

It's still important. Brothers are brothers.

[Family is family. Blood is blood.]

The voice told me to kill you.

- No. They weren't important. They weren't anything, just tools.

You could've said, though.

[A long silence. He feels like he's suppressing something deep in his chest. Then he lets out a hiss of air, lets it go. It feels like there's something crawling up his spine. He resists it.]

Well, fine. Tools like me. Dead like me. We had different kinds of brothers.

If I wanted to be something else, I should have left.

If they wanted to be something else, they shouldn't have done what I said.

You didn't leave. I didn't leave, either. Not until the end.

I don't know if I should've.

My father made them.

He took mistresses. He was breeding an army of Allomancers.

He made them.

[ He's not sure what he's insisting on. His head hurts, and his palm won't stop rubbing against the spike. ]