IC Inbox

[mrballisticsdummy]

Audio | Video | Text | Spam

Comments

[epistemological]

"He's-" and he breathes out, "he's a friend. I never let myself think past that, considering. The only reason any of it sort.of... slipped by is the situation and, er, the uniqueness of, um, everything with Mike."

A soft huff.

"And you're not wrong. He... He hurt me and he apologized, actually apologized if you can believe that. It's... Complicated."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"There's also the fact that you're a damn idiot when it comes to people wanting to be your friend, let alone anything else."

And Martin, but Jacobi isn't touching that mess. He likes him, but Jon is his. And if he has to pick a side in whatever happens, then he might as well start now.

He sits up. "Can you stomach some water? It might help your head. And...everything else."

[epistemological]

"Yes, well, I- it's not as if I've had much practice before now."

It's a lame excuse and be knows it, but such is life. Though when it comes right down to it, Jon would prefer no 'sides'. He still cares for Martin a great deal. Life just... happens sometimes.

"I suppose I should probably hydrate, yes."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Life for Jacobi is still sides. It's something he doesn't ever think he'll be able to shake. He just knows how to hide it better.

He leaves Jon for the moment and returns with water, which he holds out to him expectantly.

"Drink it. I promise I didn't put anything in it."

[epistemological]

He raises an eyebrow.

"Why would you put anything into it?"

The idea hadn't even occurred to him, and he'll take it and start swallowing it down slowly as he makes room on the bed for Jacobi to join him again.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"I wouldn't," he says with a playful, almost teasing, smirk as he crawls back into bed beside him.

"If you go to sleep, I'll stay," he promises him. "I feel - like a kid at a sleepover. Not something you have experience with, nerd. I know. Might as well start now."

[epistemological]

"I thought you're supposed to do 'fun' things during such events," he points out as he continues to sip, "as opposed to myself. And I'm going to fall over soon."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Yeah, play video games and get fucked up. Steal my dad's liquor and fill it up with water. But we can just skip all that and get straight to collapsing in a heap because one of us can't hold his booze and the other one is just goddamn tired," he explains.

[epistemological]

A pause.

"I wouldn't be opposed to the games." And there's a long pause. "You might actually beat me at Mario Kart."

Oooooooooo.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Fuxk you," he laughs. "Finish your water and I'll get it set up."

He's not exactly happy to leave him again, but he hesitantly starts to pull away. "And don't get up. I'll help you in a second. If you fall and break your head, Tim might legitimately kill me."

[epistemological]

"Tim would hardly." He says it blithely, amused at the idea. "As he's well aware whose fault that would be. It would just unbreak anyway, to be fair."

Though notice how he's staying put.

[mrballisticsdummy]

"He would hardly because he can't anyway," he tells him, turning on the television and getting it set up before returning to Jon and holding out a hand.

"Let's go, sleeping beauty."

[epistemological]

He pushes himself up and out of the bed as he reaches for Jacobi's hand. He takes it with a firmer grip as he gets to his feet.

"...bloody head shot," he grumbles as he starts moving.

"You haven't mentioned how things went on your ship. I've just been blathering on."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Because it was awful," he says softly. "And I didn't have a Mike to soften the blow."

He wraps an arm firmly around his waist and would just up and lift him if he could, but this will have to do.

"Well, there was a Michael. He caught me after the riot and was an absolute asshole, but no Mike."

[epistemological]

That makes him pause. Because 'Michael' means something very specific to him. He glances at Jacobi.

"...tell me about your Michael?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Not mine. We had the one interaction and I ended up sedated and completely out of it after. Curly hair. Tall. Spoke like a pretentious jackass. Kind of gave me a headache."

He puts a hand on his lower back to encourage him to keep walking. All the way to the couch.

[epistemological]

"Oh for fuck's sake," he says with a grumble as he sways a little. "Knives for fingers?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

He waits until he has him on the couch before dropping the controller in his lap.

"Huh. I thought that was just a hallucination. Everything was a little...fuzzy for a while. Why? Friend of yours?"

[epistemological]

Jon leans over a bit, grabbing the controller with one hand as the other tugs his neckline over to show a flat scar from what was clearly a blade of some sort.

"Not a hallucination, I assure you."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi sits down beside him, close enough to touch, and inspects the wound.

"Glad I didn't know then. I would have been in more trouble," he mutters. "He was an Assistant. And I was a Patient. You can guess which was the warden equivalent. It wasn't me."

He mutes the television but starts the game. "It was built like a preschool hell. Bright colors. Soft surfaces. No privacy. The goal was, well, just to be happy. To pretend to be happy was fine, too."

He rubs the back of his neck, touching the scar. "Brainwashed idiots."

[epistemological]

There were stitches, so it isn't too bad, but he'll run a finger lightly against Jacobi's hand as if to steady him. He doesn't understand it but he knows harm to him makes his friend... twitchy.

"I applaud you for not losing your mind. I can certainly see Michael playing at his fun in a place like that. Hopefully, you'll never have to see him again."

[mrballisticsdummy]

The touch helps, just a little, but at least now he has a new target in mind for if he ever needs to just lose his shit at someone.

"Hopefully. Fortunately, he left me alone after that. It was - a crazy fucking time. We weren't allowed to use any swear words. It would censor us. Even talking in person."

[epistemological]

"I feel like I ought to invite everyone to a game of 'Cards Against Humanity' after I'm no longer falling over," and he'll take a moment to select his driver for the game. Princess Peach, regardless of his status. If he loses, he loses.

"Just fill the room with the lot of us swearing up a storm."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Luigi was there," he mutter, passing by the character on the screen. "Never talked to him but...he was there."

He nudges him, picking Yoshi instead. "I'd be into that card game, though. I think a lot of people would be."

[epistemological]

He almost drops his controller.

"Have you told Tim yet? My God."

A pause.

"...was he awful?"

Another pause.

"Did he have a ghost vacuum?"