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I have suddenly found myself with a lot more thinking time. So yes. It is ridiculous. Strap in.
You wake up early. Do something exceptionally British like drink tea while staring longing at a picture of the Queen. Then it's off to the library to sit around and help people find whatever stupid shit comes into their brains. And then you come home, watch a terrible documentary about fish or the types of sand in the Sahara, and then it's off to bed at around eight after a long day.
You wake up early. Do something exceptionally British like drink tea while staring longing at a picture of the Queen. Then it's off to the library to sit around and help people find whatever stupid shit comes into their brains. And then you come home, watch a terrible documentary about fish or the types of sand in the Sahara, and then it's off to bed at around eight after a long day.
Other than the Queen, who I'm not discussing if we're going to have a civil discussion of any sort that isn't me ranting for an hour and a half about the absolute bullshit waste of taxes that is the 'royal family', and the choice of documentaries and the bed time... it's not entirely off.
I'm just fine with my lack of one, thank you. Boring is a luxury when you're mostly trying to avoid your fifth kidnapping a
GODDAMMIT
GODDAMMIT
Would you, or would you not, consider it being 'kidnapped' to have been beaten until unconsciousness (for whatever reason) and stashed in a cupboard to be interrogated later?
Edited 2021-08-17 23:29 (UTC)
Kidnapping is literally just taking someone and holding them captive.
So yes.
So yes.
Fuck.
Sorry, sorry, it's fine.
What were we talking about?
Sorry, sorry, it's fine.
What were we talking about?
About how you're an absolute fucking nutjob.
What the fuck Jon?
What the fuck Jon?
Look, it's not all that difficult.
I had a good streak running where I hadn't been kidnapped for ages and now it's broken. Give me a moment.
I had a good streak running where I hadn't been kidnapped for ages and now it's broken. Give me a moment.
What is your life?
I've gone over my time anyway.
Thanks for the distraction.
I've gone over my time anyway.
Thanks for the distraction.
You know the answer.
I'll leave you alone now, though feel free to ping back if you hit a wall.
I'll leave you alone now, though feel free to ping back if you hit a wall.
Yes he saw the network message where Rita asked people not to come down, but he's in a shitty mood from getting his ass beat so he thought he'd spread the love.
It's not exactly hard to make sure Rita's not there before he makes his way to Zero to go and find Jacobi's cell. Tim's wearing a nice shirt with its sleeves rolled so Jacobi gets to fully see the bandage wrapped tight around his palm and wrist, and a band-aid on his temple that doesn't quite hide the bruising beneath it. He's not limping, at least?
"Have fun, Daniel?"
It's not exactly hard to make sure Rita's not there before he makes his way to Zero to go and find Jacobi's cell. Tim's wearing a nice shirt with its sleeves rolled so Jacobi gets to fully see the bandage wrapped tight around his palm and wrist, and a band-aid on his temple that doesn't quite hide the bruising beneath it. He's not limping, at least?
"Have fun, Daniel?"
Daniel's working when Tim walks in. He's at the desk, pen in hand, tapping it against a half-filled page in a notebook.
He isn't expecting anyone, let alone Tim, so when he hears the door open, he actually stares at him a moment, like he's not really there.
"Oh yeah. Tons." He takes in the bruising. Well, he didn't die.
He isn't expecting anyone, let alone Tim, so when he hears the door open, he actually stares at him a moment, like he's not really there.
"Oh yeah. Tons." He takes in the bruising. Well, he didn't die.
Surprise, your shit-talk buddy's mad at you~!
"Just got a question for you." He steps in and lifts an arm to hold the bars so he can rest his head on his forearm. "What the hell?"
"Just got a question for you." He steps in and lifts an arm to hold the bars so he can rest his head on his forearm. "What the hell?"
This isn't one of his self-imposed break times, so Daniel gives him a quick look before going back to his notebook.
"If you're asking me why, well, that's a very loaded question. One that won't be very satisfying without a hell of a lot of backstory, and, really, who has the time?"
"If you're asking me why, well, that's a very loaded question. One that won't be very satisfying without a hell of a lot of backstory, and, really, who has the time?"
"You're in here for a week," he says, with a flat, almost lazy intonation. "And I have literally nothing better to do because you got my dominant hand broken."
He just shifts his weight slightly to take the pressure off his sore ribs, and leans his hips against the bars as well.
He just shifts his weight slightly to take the pressure off his sore ribs, and leans his hips against the bars as well.
"Look, I'm actually busy trying to unfuck this. And I'm way too busy to sit here and give you an answer that you're just going to blow off because you're mad and searching for the meaning of life or why bad people do bad things or why you have terrible taste in friends. So either get out of here or sit down and shut up and listen," he tells him firmly.
"Life doesn't mean anything, it's just random shit and bad luck. And I have fantastic taste, sometimes you just want garbage too."
And he raises his eyebrows at Jacobi. "Go on, then."
And he raises his eyebrows at Jacobi. "Go on, then."
Jacobi flips him off and sits back, making a note that he will need to skip his next break to make up for this lost time.
Thanks, Tim.
"Once upon a time, I had a friend. Then that friend died. And ever since then? Everything's been so goddamn terrible. And then I came here."
He leans back. "Maximum damage. That's what I was going for. Blow it all to hell and damn the consequences. Because the consequences couldn't be any worse than what came before." He taps his pen on the paper. "I - well, it would be really easy to say that I couldn't have seen it coming, but this isn't the first time I've pulled shit like this."
Thanks, Tim.
"Once upon a time, I had a friend. Then that friend died. And ever since then? Everything's been so goddamn terrible. And then I came here."
He leans back. "Maximum damage. That's what I was going for. Blow it all to hell and damn the consequences. Because the consequences couldn't be any worse than what came before." He taps his pen on the paper. "I - well, it would be really easy to say that I couldn't have seen it coming, but this isn't the first time I've pulled shit like this."
Tim presses his lips together so he doesn't give a stupid little grim smile at how bloody familiar that all sounds.
"No wonder we get along so damn well," he mutters instead. His gaze turns towards the notepad Jacobi's working for a sneak peek. He's gotten pretty good at reading things from stupid angles. "Fuck everyone except you and yours, right? Because who gives a damn about them, really."
"No wonder we get along so damn well," he mutters instead. His gaze turns towards the notepad Jacobi's working for a sneak peek. He's gotten pretty good at reading things from stupid angles. "Fuck everyone except you and yours, right? Because who gives a damn about them, really."
"There was only one other exception to the kill order besides me. And that was Kepler. Because I- well, I told him once that if I was going to have him killed, I'd do it myself. That was the mistake I made the last time. I had someone else point the gun to his head."
He leans back.
"I am sorry you got hurt, Tim."
He isn't sorry that he did it yet. Not for the right reasons, at least. But he is starting to apologize for the splash. Little by little.
"I'll let you hit me, when I get out. If that makes you feel better. Once. After that? All bets are off."
He leans back.
"I am sorry you got hurt, Tim."
He isn't sorry that he did it yet. Not for the right reasons, at least. But he is starting to apologize for the splash. Little by little.
"I'll let you hit me, when I get out. If that makes you feel better. Once. After that? All bets are off."
He snorts, and immediately winces, bandaged hand moving to grip the opposite ribs. "Think I might have to get in line," he says flatly, but there's half a grin on his face despite the aches. "Rita looks like she wants to kill you herself first. And probably me if she catches me here."
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