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

[ A breath. He responds somewhat reluctantly. ]

Because you trusted me with Pushing your emotions, and if you'd come close to doing that to me I would have ripped your throat out.

[He considers this.]

Okay.

But you gave me something, when you did that. You didn't have to. I mean, you didn't have to be kind to get what you wanted.

Can you tell me, honestly, that it didn't get me what I wanted faster than any other way?

[ Which isn't really an answer. ]

No. But you took a huge chance. I was about to leave. I don't trust kind people.

You'd make an exception for me.

[ Which wasn't something he'd been at all sure of, then, but he knows it now. ]

You didn't know that. Don't act like you did. You took a really big chance. That's not how the game's played. It was a stupid risk with the odds against you, but you took it anyway.

I'm just saying.

It's a different game here.

[ But he doesn't argue, not really. ]

I know now.

Yeah. And neither of us know the rules.

[He straightens slightly, tilts his chin up curiously.]

You do.

You got gloves for me.

I already had gloves. Here. For riding.

You had them ready and you pulled them out without thinking about it. I saw you.

[When you care about someone, you pay attention to what makes them uncomfortable.]

You told me no bare hands.

You didn't have to remember. You didn't have to respect it. But you did and you put them on even though you were taking a crazy, stupid chance and odds were I was going to leave anyway.

[ Zane makes an exasperated noise, but doesn't object further. ]

[Which is good enough for him. Zane's run out of arguments, and he's less frantic, at least on the surface, so Cassel considers that he's done the best he can do.]

[Of course, he'd also be well within his rights to push further, harder, until Zane snaps like a rubber band. He can see the possibility, even the probability - although he could see it much more clearly ten minutes ago - and by the unspoken laws he knows like the lines of his palm, eye for an eye, pain for pain, that's how the game is played.]

[But it's a different game here.]

[Instead, he lets his head rest on Zane's shoulder again and doesn't say a damn thing.]

[ He hesitates a long moment, but finally he asks. ]

You have siblings. Are they alive?

[The word Why? is on the tip of his tongue. He's all prepared to throw it at him like a weapon, but he doesn't.]

[He sighs, laces his fingers together in his lap.]

It was Philip, then Barron, then me. Philip's dead. Barron's - here. So I guess he's dead too.

[The thought does not sit well with him, despite the fact that he shouldn't care. But also should, but also shouldn't.]

[He looks at his hands. There's more, and he wants to say it, but his words aren't working again.]

There were many of us. Not all kept in the same place, and we didn't all know about each other.

There were girls, too.

Did you like them?

[Not love. He doesn't think the word probably applies.]

No. I was Mistborn. Better than them.

[There's a slight twitch of annoyance at that, quickly concealed.]

Philip and Barron. I was their tool.

We were all my father's tools.

Your dad's a dick, then.

He is despicable.

That's what I said.

[A pause.]

I mean, so's Barron but I still lost it when he went overboard a while back.

Went overboard?