[she resists the urge to flip the bird the bird as it flies by. no, anna, you have to be nice to the ravens, you're trying to get to know more about Never Mind. plus if you piss them off then you could end up in the corpse river again so maybe just chill out. she exhales, and she's about to pull out a cigarette because why the hell not when someone approaches her and says her name.]
[her head lifts towards him, and she stands there for a moment, her body moving a little slower than she thought it would. maybe she's shaking off the cold. maybe she doesn't know how to deal with being Known in real life after so many people talked at her overnight. either way, she lowers the half-pulled cig back into the pack, puts the pack into an inside pocket, and pushes off the wall with her back muscles.]
That's me. [and this must be the guy she's waiting for. nobody else around. she doesn't offer a wave.] Late night, Qrow? You don't look like the early to rise type.
[He shrugs, spreading his hands in a slightly more dramatic gesture than strictly warranted.]
Yeaaah, no, late and early pretty much stopped having meaning years ago. It's less "sleep" and more "occasionally passing out from exhaustion" at this point.
[Which is an alarmingly casual way of saying that you kind of have chronic insomnia issues but whatever. He's so used to it at this point the idea of having a Proper Schedule (TM) is actively low-key repulsive. One reason of several he has not bothered to get a job in Trench, honestly.
[she just assumes he means coldblood stuff, since she hasn't had a solid night's sleep in several weeks now even without taking these memories into account. it's been great, and cool. (though it actually hasn't been too terrible this month, which really has been a reprieve. guess that's why her brain kicked it into overdrive.)]
Gotta say, if I didn't know you were from Remnant, this whole look would've given it away. [she looks at all the crucifixes he's decked out in and fixes him with a look halfway between skepticism and surprise. she didn't think they had the big JC there, but she never really asked.] So you pretty big into religion or is it just an aesthetic choice?
[It is truly comedic how fast Qrow's expression twists into something that looks like it's sucked on an entire lemon. The casually irreverent posture shifting into something legitimately irritated -- albeit not at her.]
Ugh. No, fuck gods. They ruin everything.
[Normally, he'd keep the following information on the downlow, but she already knows Oscar's whole deal so you know what? Screw it.]
...Remember that whole "forever war" situation Oscar told you about, back in Remnant? That's their fault. I don't mean in the sense of like, a religious war. I mean they literally blew up our moon and abandoned the planet, and then threatened to come back and finish the job if they judged us ~unworthy~ whenever their relics were put back together.
[So sorry, Anna, you kind of opened a can of worms with this one.]
The war's never going to end because the one trying to cause the apocalypse was literally cursed with immortality by them. If I ever get the chance to punch one in the face, it'll be satisfying as shit.
[now, see. she has heard about salem. she has heard that salem was immortal, and that she was killed enough times that she forgot who she was, which always did seem a little brutal. but she is not immortal because of the dream, and that's new information. along with everything else here. like, what?]
[anna backs away just by one step and straightens up a little, like she can tell she's touched a very unexpected nerve. despite that, the whole... mythology here compels her. and what she's focusing on is not the creation myth (that seems to be a creation reality) or the eschatological threat. because no matter how realistic it all seems, those parts aren't the weirdest mythology she's ever heard. no, the thing that does get her solely because of how real it is is...]
They blew up the moon? What the fuck, just out of spite? "Good luck having tides and werewolves, assholes, see you in a millennium"? [she pushes her hair out of her face on instinct, like she's adjusting an eyepatch that isn't there.] Well, they sound like huge dicks. Hope you get to kick their asses when they come back.
Pretty much, yeah. I mean, we still have a moon it's just, uh...shattered up there.
[He is not sure how this affects their tides tbh bc he is the farthest possible thing from a scientist, but he seems confused for a moment about the werewolves? Is that like those YA fantasy novels with the wolf faunus that can turn into humans sometimes? He vaguely recalls hearing Blake have very passionate opinions about those books to Yang at some point on their trek to Atlas, but that was before Jinn and everything that's happened since and he'd be damned if he can remember.
Among the benefits of being sober are keeping just enough presence of mind to occasionally avoid shoving your entire foot in your mouth, so he will wisely refrain from comment for once in his life.]
Assuming we don't all die first, anyway. But hey, if there's still an afterlife in Remnant, maybe that's another solid plan.
I mean. From what NP tells me, [there's that name again. she moves past it fast.] You guys killed that apocalypse witch so hard she forgot who she was. Think you can handle a couple gods after that.
[she's acting like it's something to be proud of, but with all the information she's received since then, it clearly isn't. she wonders how many people didn't want to do that to salem; ruby was probably one of them.]
C'mon, let's get inside somewhere. I'm cold enough already and it ain't getting any warmer.
[Salem was only killable because of Deerington; if Ozpin could've killed her, the war would've ended a long time ago. Truthfully, Qrow has very little faith that they will defeat Salem or the Gods. But the kids haven't given up, so he's not allowed to either. Or at least, the version of himself still there isn't. He's relieved to leave it all behind.]
...Huh. Didn't realize you could get cold. [Due to the whole Robot Thing.] Yeah, sure.
[He scrubs at his chin stubble a moment, thinking.]
There's a place down the street I have a tab with. They let me eat, and I do chores and errands for them about once a week.
I guess it's not any weirder than all of us being squids.
[Will literally anything top being a squid? Qrow is not sure, but he expects to be proven wrong any time now.]
...Who's Macduff?
[Come on Anna does this look like a man who reads Shakespeare to you;;; it is unlikely he's read any work of literature that has not come in illustrated format at minimum in his entire goddamn life.]
Oh right, you guys probably don't have Billy Shakes. It's a play from back home about this dude who kills the king, becomes the king, and then does a whole lot more killing once he's on the throne. Fun little story about paranoia.
[she shrugs, the heavy shoulders of her coat rising and falling. it feels nice around her. maybe she'll make it part of her regular wardrobe even one the winter is gone.]
Saying the name of the play is also super cursed, if you believe theater tradition. Supposed to bring bad luck to anyone who says it.
[He sort of harrumphs, irritably. It's not like how he went off about the gods before, but there's a distinct sense he's deeply disgruntled about this notion.]
Sounds like a pain to keep putting it on. How do people even get tickets? They call it "The Cursed Play" at the box office, or what?
[The whole play itself sounds kinda yikes too, like someone decided to write a whole play about Ironwood, except actually as a king rather than a wannabe one. Bleh. He really wants that damn pizza now.]
[Let the record state how much he hates that he was actually right. He hates it a lot. But Qrow would rather chew on broken glass than have any kind of extended conversation about luck, so her subject change is perfectly timed.]
Depends on the crowd. Sometimes I'm the kind of pizza guy who'll order pineapple just to mess with everyone else.
[Pineapple on pizza is an abomination against gods and man but he has probably picked at literal garbage pizza in bird form before so like. Sometimes you choose violence, because it's funnier. You know how it is right Anna.]
[she knew that already, but she knows how to be appreciative. game recognize game.]
It's been long enough for me that I might just go with whatever for the hell of it. Pizza's like one of those real deep depression foods for me. [which makes it appropriate that they're going for it now.] So it's been a while. That and losing the whole... ability to get nutrition from food for a bit in the middle there.
In that case, might as well just ask about the specials. There's always some new mushroom-laden concoction the old lady's got going on.
[Yes, the owner of the pizza place that Qrow's formed this deal with is a badass little old lady. She may or may not have intense Maria vibes. Qrow is nOT predictable, how dare you.]
Yikes. Guess that's one perk of having blood again, huh?
[listen,,, he just really enjoys food ok....now that he no longer drinks, junk food is like his last remaining vice...]
Eh, I mean, I could still eat, but I was just doing it for the taste before I got my blood back. Kind of a lot to be said for, like, waking up and knowing your body will actually like what you put inside it.
[she looks around, trying to familiarize with these streets. with the Tower out and about lately, it's been hard to find her way around, but mercifully he seems to be taking pity on them. maybe he knows she's been up all night and she's not having a good time. maybe getting tight with Cloverfield has been a good idea so far.]
Or knowing your body won't later, but your head will now. [which is kind of the problem.]
[....Well shit. He can definitely relate to that last part, all too well.]
...Yeah. Knowing you can escape from everything for a while -- it's real easy to fall into.
[He's a little unsure how much she wants to talk about, though. She'd said she didn't want advice, and so that's why they're getting pizza, but here's the topic, rising to the surface again like yeast in bread.]
Getting used to being stuck with your thoughts is probably one of the hardest parts.
[...Aside the initial active withdrawal part, anyway. That sucked a whole lot.]
[she said she didn't want advice, but she says a lot of things. she takes a moment to think of how best to respond to that. whether she should open up a little or not. she's tired right now.]
Five years. [it comes out in a way that almost takes her by surprise.] That's how long my "while" was. Before I finally started pulling myself out of it and having to deal with my thoughts on their own.
[she's not looking at him when she says it, instead trying to pretend like she's still trying to find their pizza place.]
[Ah. There is an anxious moment, just the space of a breath, where he wonders what he really has to offer here. Not only did she manage to clean herself up in less than half the time it took him to get his shit together, but she'd been clean longer than he has.
Then the moment passes, and he rolls a shoulder.]
Must have been eleven, twelve years for me.
[That time is a muddle of grief and alcohol and the stress of keeping two little girls alive when their mother was gone. He's lost details like his own exact age when he gave up hope on finding Summer alive, or even finding a body to bring home.]
I'd only stopped a couple months when I first got drawn into the dream. Making it this far seemed kind of impossible back then.
[He doesn't want to say something trite like how she surely will be able to do it again if she's done it once before, or that he believes in her, or something like that. Really, he's not sure what to say. He's never exactly been to one of those support group things. He rubs at his neck.]
Look -- to be honest, I've got absolutely no clue how this works. This whole 'fellow drunks' thing. I'm probably the worst person to ever give anyone advice on how to unfuck their life, but uh. I get the feeling your original reasons for trying didn't make it out of the ocean with you, so...if you need anything, you got my number, I guess.
[if she had a hint of his history, if she knew at all what he'd been through, she would've been thinking "well yeah, no shit, he had to deal with way worse than i ever did". but at the same time, hearing that he got clean after twelve years just makes her wonder what's wrong with her that she can't stay that way with less than half of that under her belt. there's anxiety tinged with shame that's easier to let herself feel, and she doesn't move on from it the way he does.]
Nobody made it out of the ocean with me. [a dejected sigh as she falls back against a nearby building wall and crosses her arms over her chest.] That's the thing that's sending me back there. And I know you're not, like, an expert on anything or whatever, but, like. This is the first problem I've had here that I felt like other people could even relate to.
No weird doubletalk, no leaving details out 'cause they're too complicated, just. [a look to the sky.] Burnout girl pushing 30 falls off the wagon 'cause she's sad.
I dunno, at this point I think I'd qualify as an expert at being drunk. [He lets out a faint amused huff, self-deprecating.] Just...you know, retired.
[He shakes his head, then. Honestly, the fact that she still wants to try even without those people is admirable, from where he's standing.]
For what it's worth, if I didn't have family here, we'd be having a very different conversation. Hell, it's hard even when your reasons are right in front of you.
Yeah... yeah, god, it sure as hell is, huh. [sigh. family, friends, loved ones. she's working on making some of her own here, especially after the night she's just had, but he's still right.]
I had people trying to reach out to me when I was deep in it and I just didn't want to let them in. They were supposed to be people I was, like, holding on to and staying sober for, but it just didn't work. [she's. she can't talk around this. she just said, right, that this is all about no doubletalk and no leaving details out.]
It was my ex's sisters. I was supposed to let myself stay on good terms with them so I didn't end up completely alone even after she dumped me. But I just... couldn't act like a normal person around them. And I didn't know what else to do with my life as a fresh dropout in the city I moved to so I could be with her, like, six months earlier. So I just kept going back to the only thing that made sense. [christ. she's dumping her trauma on him. it disgusts her.]
I need to shove some fucking pizza in my mouth so words stop coming out of it.
[At first he's thinking that he understands only too well, what it's like to shy away from hands trying to reach out because there's too much grief and pain and despair in your heart and you will only pull them into the abyss with you. But then she continues, and her situation is entirely incomparable to his own in the end, after all. Anna might think his traumas are worse had she known them, but Qrow isn't really thinking in terms of comparison at all, here.
Perhaps not least of these is that he has entirely too many commitment issues to uproot himself for a single person like that. The only situation that comes close is changing his life for Oz at Beacon, the heartbreak he'd felt when the truth had come out and he'd been abandoned in the snow, back en route to Argus. But he had already been drinking for a long, long time before that; it had merely been his rock bottom.
He rubs at his neck, feeling that prickle of unease that comes from being out of one's depth. He's not exactly emotional support material, tends to prefer to act as though he doesn't care about most things in general, but it's obvious she needs someone. Like many times in his life, Being There means the responsibility is his, whether or not he wants it.]
I mean, you can stop them if you want. I've never been great at talking, but I mean, I did spend twelve years trying to drink my problems into submission so I wouldn't have to talk about 'em, so I'm not exactly the example to follow here.
Yeah, and now you're clean and I'm backsliding so hard I'm breaking the sound barrier. [she's really not. it's really not that bad yet. there's anger bubbling in her throat but none of it is pointed towards qrow.] So I'm sitting here like what the fuck is wrong with me that I can't do it when you figured it out.
Especially 'cause, like, listen, we've talked a little bit, I can tell you've seen really bad shit. Meanwhile there's my idiot ass over here. [she affects a mocking voice directed completely at herself.] Oh, I'm so fuckin' sad, my girlfriend broke up with me. [and she looks away.] Get some real problems, asshole.
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[her head lifts towards him, and she stands there for a moment, her body moving a little slower than she thought it would. maybe she's shaking off the cold. maybe she doesn't know how to deal with being Known in real life after so many people talked at her overnight. either way, she lowers the half-pulled cig back into the pack, puts the pack into an inside pocket, and pushes off the wall with her back muscles.]
That's me. [and this must be the guy she's waiting for. nobody else around. she doesn't offer a wave.] Late night, Qrow? You don't look like the early to rise type.
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Yeaaah, no, late and early pretty much stopped having meaning years ago. It's less "sleep" and more "occasionally passing out from exhaustion" at this point.
[Which is an alarmingly casual way of saying that you kind of have chronic insomnia issues but whatever. He's so used to it at this point the idea of having a Proper Schedule (TM) is actively low-key repulsive. One reason of several he has not bothered to get a job in Trench, honestly.
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[she just assumes he means coldblood stuff, since she hasn't had a solid night's sleep in several weeks now even without taking these memories into account. it's been great, and cool. (though it actually hasn't been too terrible this month, which really has been a reprieve. guess that's why her brain kicked it into overdrive.)]
Gotta say, if I didn't know you were from Remnant, this whole look would've given it away. [she looks at all the crucifixes he's decked out in and fixes him with a look halfway between skepticism and surprise. she didn't think they had the big JC there, but she never really asked.] So you pretty big into religion or is it just an aesthetic choice?
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Ugh. No, fuck gods. They ruin everything.
[Normally, he'd keep the following information on the downlow, but she already knows Oscar's whole deal so you know what? Screw it.]
...Remember that whole "forever war" situation Oscar told you about, back in Remnant? That's their fault. I don't mean in the sense of like, a religious war. I mean they literally blew up our moon and abandoned the planet, and then threatened to come back and finish the job if they judged us ~unworthy~ whenever their relics were put back together.
[So sorry, Anna, you kind of opened a can of worms with this one.]
The war's never going to end because the one trying to cause the apocalypse was literally cursed with immortality by them. If I ever get the chance to punch one in the face, it'll be satisfying as shit.
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[anna backs away just by one step and straightens up a little, like she can tell she's touched a very unexpected nerve. despite that, the whole... mythology here compels her. and what she's focusing on is not the creation myth (that seems to be a creation reality) or the eschatological threat. because no matter how realistic it all seems, those parts aren't the weirdest mythology she's ever heard. no, the thing that does get her solely because of how real it is is...]
They blew up the moon? What the fuck, just out of spite? "Good luck having tides and werewolves, assholes, see you in a millennium"? [she pushes her hair out of her face on instinct, like she's adjusting an eyepatch that isn't there.] Well, they sound like huge dicks. Hope you get to kick their asses when they come back.
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[He is not sure how this affects their tides tbh bc he is the farthest possible thing from a scientist, but he seems confused for a moment about the werewolves? Is that like those YA fantasy novels with the wolf faunus that can turn into humans sometimes? He vaguely recalls hearing Blake have very passionate opinions about those books to Yang at some point on their trek to Atlas, but that was before Jinn and everything that's happened since and he'd be damned if he can remember.
Among the benefits of being sober are keeping just enough presence of mind to occasionally avoid shoving your entire foot in your mouth, so he will wisely refrain from comment for once in his life.]
Assuming we don't all die first, anyway. But hey, if there's still an afterlife in Remnant, maybe that's another solid plan.
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[she's acting like it's something to be proud of, but with all the information she's received since then, it clearly isn't. she wonders how many people didn't want to do that to salem; ruby was probably one of them.]
C'mon, let's get inside somewhere. I'm cold enough already and it ain't getting any warmer.
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[Salem was only killable because of Deerington; if Ozpin could've killed her, the war would've ended a long time ago. Truthfully, Qrow has very little faith that they will defeat Salem or the Gods. But the kids haven't given up, so he's not allowed to either. Or at least, the version of himself still there isn't. He's relieved to leave it all behind.]
...Huh. Didn't realize you could get cold. [Due to the whole Robot Thing.] Yeah, sure.
[He scrubs at his chin stubble a moment, thinking.]
There's a place down the street I have a tab with. They let me eat, and I do chores and errands for them about once a week.
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[she puts her hands in her pockets and tilts her head upward in his direction, acknowledging the idea and silently agreeing with it.]
Everything's more complicated than it looks. Lay on, Macduff.
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[Will literally anything top being a squid? Qrow is not sure, but he expects to be proven wrong any time now.]
...Who's Macduff?
[Come on Anna does this look like a man who reads Shakespeare to you;;; it is unlikely he's read any work of literature that has not come in illustrated format at minimum in his entire goddamn life.]
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[she shrugs, the heavy shoulders of her coat rising and falling. it feels nice around her. maybe she'll make it part of her regular wardrobe even one the winter is gone.]
Saying the name of the play is also super cursed, if you believe theater tradition. Supposed to bring bad luck to anyone who says it.
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[He sort of harrumphs, irritably. It's not like how he went off about the gods before, but there's a distinct sense he's deeply disgruntled about this notion.]
Sounds like a pain to keep putting it on. How do people even get tickets? They call it "The Cursed Play" at the box office, or what?
[The whole play itself sounds kinda yikes too, like someone decided to write a whole play about Ironwood, except actually as a king rather than a wannabe one. Bleh. He really wants that damn pizza now.]
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[which she's almost impressed by, despite the clear signs that he doesn't want to think about anything like this right now.]
So what kind of a pizza guy are you? [she is desperate for another line of conversation while they find this place.] Pineapple, yes, no?
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Depends on the crowd. Sometimes I'm the kind of pizza guy who'll order pineapple just to mess with everyone else.
[Pineapple on pizza is an abomination against gods and man but he has probably picked at literal garbage pizza in bird form before so like. Sometimes you choose violence, because it's funnier. You know how it is right Anna.]
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[she knew that already, but she knows how to be appreciative. game recognize game.]
It's been long enough for me that I might just go with whatever for the hell of it. Pizza's like one of those real deep depression foods for me. [which makes it appropriate that they're going for it now.] So it's been a while. That and losing the whole... ability to get nutrition from food for a bit in the middle there.
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[Yes, the owner of the pizza place that Qrow's formed this deal with is a badass little old lady. She may or may not have intense Maria vibes. Qrow is nOT predictable, how dare you.]
Yikes. Guess that's one perk of having blood again, huh?
[listen,,, he just really enjoys food ok....now that he no longer drinks, junk food is like his last remaining vice...]
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[she looks around, trying to familiarize with these streets. with the Tower out and about lately, it's been hard to find her way around, but mercifully he seems to be taking pity on them. maybe he knows she's been up all night and she's not having a good time. maybe getting tight with Cloverfield has been a good idea so far.]
Or knowing your body won't later, but your head will now. [which is kind of the problem.]
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...Yeah. Knowing you can escape from everything for a while -- it's real easy to fall into.
[He's a little unsure how much she wants to talk about, though. She'd said she didn't want advice, and so that's why they're getting pizza, but here's the topic, rising to the surface again like yeast in bread.]
Getting used to being stuck with your thoughts is probably one of the hardest parts.
[...Aside the initial active withdrawal part, anyway. That sucked a whole lot.]
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Five years. [it comes out in a way that almost takes her by surprise.] That's how long my "while" was. Before I finally started pulling myself out of it and having to deal with my thoughts on their own.
[she's not looking at him when she says it, instead trying to pretend like she's still trying to find their pizza place.]
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Then the moment passes, and he rolls a shoulder.]
Must have been eleven, twelve years for me.
[That time is a muddle of grief and alcohol and the stress of keeping two little girls alive when their mother was gone. He's lost details like his own exact age when he gave up hope on finding Summer alive, or even finding a body to bring home.]
I'd only stopped a couple months when I first got drawn into the dream. Making it this far seemed kind of impossible back then.
[He doesn't want to say something trite like how she surely will be able to do it again if she's done it once before, or that he believes in her, or something like that. Really, he's not sure what to say. He's never exactly been to one of those support group things. He rubs at his neck.]
Look -- to be honest, I've got absolutely no clue how this works. This whole 'fellow drunks' thing. I'm probably the worst person to ever give anyone advice on how to unfuck their life, but uh. I get the feeling your original reasons for trying didn't make it out of the ocean with you, so...if you need anything, you got my number, I guess.
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Nobody made it out of the ocean with me. [a dejected sigh as she falls back against a nearby building wall and crosses her arms over her chest.] That's the thing that's sending me back there. And I know you're not, like, an expert on anything or whatever, but, like. This is the first problem I've had here that I felt like other people could even relate to.
No weird doubletalk, no leaving details out 'cause they're too complicated, just. [a look to the sky.] Burnout girl pushing 30 falls off the wagon 'cause she's sad.
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[He shakes his head, then. Honestly, the fact that she still wants to try even without those people is admirable, from where he's standing.]
For what it's worth, if I didn't have family here, we'd be having a very different conversation. Hell, it's hard even when your reasons are right in front of you.
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I had people trying to reach out to me when I was deep in it and I just didn't want to let them in. They were supposed to be people I was, like, holding on to and staying sober for, but it just didn't work. [she's. she can't talk around this. she just said, right, that this is all about no doubletalk and no leaving details out.]
It was my ex's sisters. I was supposed to let myself stay on good terms with them so I didn't end up completely alone even after she dumped me. But I just... couldn't act like a normal person around them. And I didn't know what else to do with my life as a fresh dropout in the city I moved to so I could be with her, like, six months earlier. So I just kept going back to the only thing that made sense. [christ. she's dumping her trauma on him. it disgusts her.]
I need to shove some fucking pizza in my mouth so words stop coming out of it.
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Perhaps not least of these is that he has entirely too many commitment issues to uproot himself for a single person like that. The only situation that comes close is changing his life for Oz at Beacon, the heartbreak he'd felt when the truth had come out and he'd been abandoned in the snow, back en route to Argus. But he had already been drinking for a long, long time before that; it had merely been his rock bottom.
He rubs at his neck, feeling that prickle of unease that comes from being out of one's depth. He's not exactly emotional support material, tends to prefer to act as though he doesn't care about most things in general, but it's obvious she needs someone. Like many times in his life, Being There means the responsibility is his, whether or not he wants it.]
I mean, you can stop them if you want. I've never been great at talking, but I mean, I did spend twelve years trying to drink my problems into submission so I wouldn't have to talk about 'em, so I'm not exactly the example to follow here.
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Especially 'cause, like, listen, we've talked a little bit, I can tell you've seen really bad shit. Meanwhile there's my idiot ass over here. [she affects a mocking voice directed completely at herself.] Oh, I'm so fuckin' sad, my girlfriend broke up with me. [and she looks away.] Get some real problems, asshole.
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sorry for the delay ahhh ... wanted to do this justice and then time got away from me lmao
NO WORRIES i understand
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