patheticvillain | twenty-five ➢ private + spam

twenty-five ➢ private + spam

private } chris

Hey.

private } vesper

sorry i scared you

spam } open. eeeeesh.

[Cassel spends the weekend and the first couple of days after Elena's outed pretty much just hiding in his room. He'll open the door to some people right away, some after a little persuasion, and completely ignore others.]

[After that, he starts picking up his shifts in the gym again, although he tends not to do much looking people in the eye. He can also be found scuttling away from social interaction in the dining hall.]

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Hey.

[Slevin notices; of course he does. He notices a lot more than he lets on, and quite frankly, Cassel is one of the people he's been paying attention to ever since Chris saddled him with a pair of stand-in wardens while he was gone.

Okay, longer than that, but that's all he's acknowledging.

He waits until Cassel is actually picking up something of a routine again before he makes his move, and even then he doesn't actually enter the gym. He does, however, make sure he's lingering there when he knows he'll leave, ready with a broad smile.]

Hello.

[He goes to Cassel's room. Eventually. Partially because he's pacing his own four walls like a bloody cage and partially because he wants real answers, not platitudes or assurances that everything is under control.

So he knocks.]

Open the door.

How are you feeling?

[Without video, she sounds pretty much exactly like her normal self.]

I'm probably not terribly comforting right now. But I could read you something, if you don't want to listen to your thoughts.

[ Knock knock.

He'd better be one of the immediate ones.

Zane is still uncomfortable in his own skin since the Breach. He has been jerky, moving and speaking in fits and starts like a coughing engine. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He's working through what happened then.

But he's here for Cassel. No matter what. ]

[ Nathan's periphery to Cassel's doings and the things that have been done unto Cassel, in the ...possibly Biblical sense, have been deliberately that, peripheral. He only understands about half the details, and the rest are none of his business. A principle he has operated by pretty much his entire adult life, and he has yet to regret it when by necessity his occupation meant half the time he was involved in things that would otherwise not be his affair anyway.

But. There is this: making a bandaid for a man who can't feel anything isn't like cutting open your hand to show that sand and rags can still be magic, except that it is.

So. Nathan makes prepared speeches about as well as he makes, say, creme brulee, and no one should ever give him a blowtorch with that intent. When he decides he's going to take rib-crackers to himself he does it without preamble, and often without intent to do so in the first place. Which is why when he passes Cassel on the way out of the gym - in short sleeves there is a tattoo of a compass on the inside of his forearm, and more scar tissue (small casualties) visible than normal - he isn't ready with anything to say, and nothing on his face indicates that he's about to.

This is incorrect. ]

[Iris didn't go looking for Cassel immediately, didn't go to his room. But she knows when he's at the gym, and when she - Barbara's cat riding on her shoulder, as she has been a lot this week - encounters him leaving at shift's end, it's not remotely accidental.]

'Ey there, darling.

[One sharp knock. And then a cheery little bird's whistle. Guess who.]

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