pushing something into his hands. it's a little container of tea from the coffee shop, but more than that, underneath it and wrapped carefully in a repurposed container from one of our many fast food restaurants is something nice and warm. ]
...Here, Date. You need to eat something. [ :( fuss ]
[ he says, quietly, and sounds - tired, for the first time in a while. really tired, as he leans back and lets a hand slide down his own face. what a mess. ]
...Four said in her message that our version - the place that we are - is "baby hell". Not her words, supposedly, but still. It makes me wonder where our comrades are, and... why we specifically are running through this metaphorical gauntlet.
Malibu was awfully defensive of Satan, the other day. I tried to push a little to see what would happen and got more pushback than I expected.
[ he sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face again. ] Talking with them about - well, almost anything, has been difficult. Blue Hawaiian and Cosmopolitan the least so, for me, but still.
As for the lottery luck - Lin and I died at the same time, so that's at least a point of evidence in favor of that. I was thinking that might be the case, too.
He's their boss. Maybe they're grateful for the job opportunity, or maybe it's a case of "you don't badmouth boss fullstop"? I don't know.
... Malibu's fine, really. Same as Blue and Cosmo. It's easier to ask things from those three, I think. But they're not under any obligation to answer seriously, even if they do have to answer. Working around that's the trick.
Or, that's what I've been doing. Kinda.
[ he looks thoughtful at that last part. ]
You think we all just died at the same time and got plucked out of the crowd?
[ he can't relate to this feeling mostly because he's either always been his own boss or had a great boss. we only overthrow galaxies in this house. ]
No, they're not. I don't think they're really playing with us anymore so much as they are just not answering questions directly if at all. We have to infer what we can.
[ Science
as for the last bit, he shrugs. ] There's not enough data to prove either way. Who knows? Maybe Satan just misses his university days.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
w3, friday
he looks great. ]
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pushing something into his hands. it's a little container of tea from the coffee shop, but more than that, underneath it and wrapped carefully in a repurposed container from one of our many fast food restaurants is something nice and warm. ]
...Here, Date. You need to eat something. [ :( fuss ]
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but he has tea now I guess. ]
...
[ he puts down the tea, and picks up--- a beer! one that was nestled into his side. ]
This probably has enough wheat and barley in it to count.
[ no. ]
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[ no. sorry date he's got ten years on you he's alpha dad. he reaches for the beer and nudges it gently back down. ]
Let's - tea first, then beer. Try and hydrate some, first.
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We've been soaking our livers in alcohol for weeks now, it'll be fine.
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Please?
[ this is the only puppy eye icon i have but rest assured you've never seen a more effective and sad puppy eye in your entire life ]
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SIGH. ]
Fiiiine.
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[ he's going to take the beer and hold onto it for safekeeping. for now. ]
I know there's no point in asking how you're feeling.
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he sips his tea. it's less enjoyable compared to the beer, but thank you for the attempt to make him less miserably drunk, lbx. ]
I've been better, yeah. Can't say the idea of a room just for myself is as exciting as you'd think.
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...welcome to the club. [ :( ] I'm sorry, Date.
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... [ haha. ] This is a shit competition to be winning.
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[ he says, quietly, and sounds - tired, for the first time in a while. really tired, as he leans back and lets a hand slide down his own face. what a mess. ]
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It's going to be a painful one again, isn't it?
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[ he's quiet for a moment. ]
Each one gets worse, I think.
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Torture. Or that’s what Midori says a lot of this is.
Not sure they specifically meant the obsession with murder we seem to have, but…
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[ torture. he's quiet for a moment, reflective. ]
...Four said in her message that our version - the place that we are - is "baby hell". Not her words, supposedly, but still. It makes me wonder where our comrades are, and... why we specifically are running through this metaphorical gauntlet.
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He's also thinking of canning the whole thing after this because we keep killing each other.
[ ... ]
No clue why we were picked out of everyone who probably died around the same time? Weird lottery luck?
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Malibu was awfully defensive of Satan, the other day. I tried to push a little to see what would happen and got more pushback than I expected.
[ he sighs, scrubbing his hand over his face again. ] Talking with them about - well, almost anything, has been difficult. Blue Hawaiian and Cosmopolitan the least so, for me, but still.
As for the lottery luck - Lin and I died at the same time, so that's at least a point of evidence in favor of that. I was thinking that might be the case, too.
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... Malibu's fine, really. Same as Blue and Cosmo. It's easier to ask things from those three, I think. But they're not under any obligation to answer seriously, even if they do have to answer. Working around that's the trick.
Or, that's what I've been doing. Kinda.
[ he looks thoughtful at that last part. ]
You think we all just died at the same time and got plucked out of the crowd?
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No, they're not. I don't think they're really playing with us anymore so much as they are just not answering questions directly if at all. We have to infer what we can.
[ Science
as for the last bit, he shrugs. ] There's not enough data to prove either way. Who knows? Maybe Satan just misses his university days.
[ this is a joke. ]
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They can talk as many circles around us as they want, as long as they leave behind the genuine information too.
Maybe he's dipped into raging alcoholism and this is his only way to cope. [ this is not. ]