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[rudelanguage]

ANTIGONE INBOX: username ANTIGONEIGUESS
PENDING INBOX: username ITSPENDING
KNIFE INBOX: nonexistent (for now)

Comments

[rudelanguage]

[day? try night! it's a bit, but not entirely out of rudeness, promise. but! eventually!]

Uh, heh-hey? Hi? Does this work? Don-don't say anything if you're like. Talking to other people or ar-around other people or whatever though!

[oblige]

[ Dion left a message expecting it could be some time until he received a reply. He used text to avoid being overheard.

Yet he's fortunately alone when she responds. ]

Worry not; none would overhear or observe me where I am.

[rudelanguage]

If, if you say so. [dubious, but not cynically dubious, y'know? he's capable, but...fae shit. fae shit.

anyway.

beat.]

Uh. What, what was it? You needed? Again?

[oblige]

I'm inquiring as to how you've fared thus far. This place can be...taxing.

[ His tone heavily implies that last word is bearing the burden of euphemism. ]

[rudelanguage]

[she gives a fluttery, busted laugh at that.]

Just, just say it's fucked. It's okay. I promise I won't say shit to anyone.

[oblige]

[ It's terrible and he's so done with it, she wasn't kidding about these people. ]

It has been a deeply vexing experience in too many ways.

[ Close enough? ]

[rudelanguage]

Almost like it'sssssssssssss............... [c'mon. c'mon, bud. c'mon.]

[oblige]

Terrible.

[ He's too polite even now, but the weariness is certainly there. ]

But how have you been?

[rudelanguage]

[she scoffs. UGH. not even at her lowest? what if it was her birthday or something. goddammit. she'll get him. it'll be a dying wish or, or something.

wearily:] Fucked.

[oblige]

[ What a thing to burn a dying wish on. But also: no dying. ]

It will be a relief when we're finished with this world.

Are you unhurt, at least?

[rudelanguage]

Enh. [noncommittal noise.

beat.]

Nothin' broke or bleedin'. Almost gettin' eaten and still in one piece. Morsel.

[oblige]

Something tried to eat you?

[ Did he hear that right? ]

[rudelanguage]

[blandly:] What, you didn't get stalked and pounced in the woods, too? Can't be just me. I wasn't even morsel-sized for it.

[oblige]

I've instead been stalked about by some obnoxious lout who writes me terrible poetry.

[ Frankly, he'd prefer monsters. ]

[rudelanguage]

[snort.]

You tried cussing them out?

[oblige]

[ A long-suffering sigh. ]

I punched him for attacking a friend.

[ And somehow, that didn't dissuade the guy. Imagine. ]

[rudelanguage]

[there's a hitched noise, halting the impulse to bark a laugh, swallowing it painfully.]

Guh, y-y'know that's... This is supposed to be a stealth gig...

[oblige]

I realize. It has been difficult, with Aestus' influence.

[ That has been the most tiring part of it. Dion has always felt deeply, but to be robbed of the ability to properly moderate it... ]

[rudelanguage]

[she makes a faint noise through her nose, then goes quiet.

a long beat:] So. Did you find an alternative punching bag?

[oblige]

I spend more time in the forest, as our mission allows.

[ Better that than picking fights when indeed they should be covert. ]

[rudelanguage]

Not getting nearly eaten. Lucky you.

[oblige]

I'm more a threat to anything in the forest than the reverse, like as not.

[rudelanguage]

You wouldn't cut that loose and blow everyone's cover, though.

[oblige]

Of course not. But in a world so givdn to magic, they might sense how much aether I have.

[rudelanguage]

I meannnn... Nnnrhh... [she huffs.]

Whatever. You're not askin' for advice, so I'm not gonna...fuckin'...bother offerin'.