TLV: IC Inbox

[lestercraft]

"This is Arthur Lester. I'm not available right now, but do leave a message and I'll find the time. A-a voice message, please."

Text | Audio | Video | Spam


[OOC: Please note Arthur is blind, so audio format is strongly ICly preferred, but by God don't let that stop you]

Comments

[greatoldjohn]

He supposes this is his own fault, really, for adding this to a fraught discussion during a tender period. He had his reasons: that terrifying brush with their future had frustrated him, that the words were unspoken, that he might have to leave Arthur before he spoke them. And the wild trilling bell of sensation he feels in the core of his being at those feelings being returned is a direct counter to the emotional freight train blow from earlier, not that he thinks that's changed and he takes it as a personal challenge.

But now he has the problem that Arthur put himself out like that to him, spoke words that might as well be gold in every sense, words he will treasure as much as any poem... and proceeded to follow it up with the stupidest fucking thing he's ever heard.

'What worth'? The very core of his understanding of the thing, the source of his very means to love, to know what it is, it's value on a personal level, the very stuff that entangles them-

[You let me worry about that. Suffice it to say, it holds great worth to me.]

[lestercraft]

That gets a soft huff. Just the single one, this time, with a soft tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Indeed."

He settles again, leaning on his elbows, but there's still an uneasy worry weighing heavy in his stomach, as his right hand plucks idly at the sleeve on his left.

Part of him still wants to protest it, still. That this was a horrible choice on John's part, to invest this in him.

"You... now that you've seen- now that you know everything, y-you--" His voice falters as words fail him for a moment, and he tries again. "Every person I have loved, John. I-I don't know if it's just truly rotten luck, or some- some cruel game something like Kayne is playing, or- or maybe it's just because it's me."

He takes a breath, and it comes out quieter that he means.

"Everyone I've ever loved, dies. Well before their time."

[greatoldjohn]

[Arthur...]

His heart is in the words, all of them, no matter how intense. Perhaps especially in such a case.

[There is no one on this boat who knows how much of a vicious fuck I can be. Which is why I promise you, Arthur:

I will do everything I can to stay alive, to not go back to the dark world. But if there's no way out? If there's no hope at all?

I will make sure to take you with me. ]

And he knows, knows, Arthur will understand the love in that promise. Because he, John, would hate that. But for Arthur, he will.

[lestercraft]

His hand coasts down the short distance between his sleeve and their left hand: his grip coasts over their fingers, and there's a short thrill of horror, like a missed step when he feels that their pinky is still whole and intact.

(He thought he'd known what he was capable of. To have that preconception so thoroughly destroyed was a hard thing to reconcile. He still hasn't, yet.)

Then he shifts down and grips John's palm, giving him a brief squeeze. "Thank you, John. Truly. And- and I hope it never comes to that."

[greatoldjohn]

The hand squeezes back.

[We'll do everything in our power to make sure it doesn't.]

He can't promise that they won't get there, not after all that. But he's given the promise that matters. He won't die on Arthur. He'll do whatever he needs to to survive and get back to him.

Speaking of...

[...do you think Kayne can see what happens here?]

[lestercraft]

"I, er. I'm not sure." His thumb traces the lines on his palm, the familiarity and unfamiliarity of sensation lacking. "If he knew we were able to escape him, all of- all of that, wouldn't he have- tried to distract us, steer us away from the Admiral? Found us earlier, since he's apparently so capable?"

[greatoldjohn]

[I would agree. I don't think he can see into this place.]

A pause.

[But I'd like to check with the Admiral. Do you think that's a good idea?]

John curls a finger to brush just the once against Arthur's hand in return.

[lestercraft]

"I don't think so at all, actually. But I also get the impression that..."

He releases John, but only so he can run his hand over his mouth as he thinks of the right words.

"I get the distinct impression that, unless a person already knows of the Barge, they wouldn't be able to find it whatsoever. For example-- with everything that's happened- will happen, as well, I don't believe you were affected by the more, uh. Otherworldly aspects of it all."

The more mundane depravities seemed to, but that still felt more like a lack of prior experience on the receiving end of things.

"But even you don't remember what the Admiral looks like, and you described him to me. So, uh- as illogical as it sounds, logically there must be other places even your kin can't touch from our world, without an invitation."

[greatoldjohn]

[Agreed. The various layers and timelines that are connected to the reality that we're familiar with are, to the best of my understanding, entirely disconnected from the kind of people and beings that are found here.
Meaning the Admiral is on a higher level of reality than even Kayne would be a part of.

Something he can't access.

...I still want to check, though. Just in case. I trust the Admiral to be honest with us. Especially because it's not in his interest to do anything else.]