[network] Noisy Black, Part Two [open] [horror/watching surgeries/note specifics please]

[snowblindmods]

[Maybe you'd like to watch the video feed and give your comments. Maybe you'd like to try and organize something to fix what's happening. Maybe some of the sinners will be able to get on and join you, eventually... Please note what night/day/morning your post is on and note warnings as necessary.]

Comments

[bywolves]

[ Tea. Royce could go for tea. ]

OK. [ Please. He's not sure if he's cold or not, right now, too distracted. It's just. He takes a deep breath to steady his hands. Come on. ] Drink hurts.

[devoutish]

You'll be better by then. It'll be all right.

[bywolves]

[ His hand hurts, but he's reluctant to give up his one way of communicating. ]

What if not.

[devoutish]

I don't know, Royce.

[bywolves]

[ Okay. That's fair. Royce doesn't know either. He rests his head closer to the tablet. Alfie's going to get to hear his labored breathing up close and personal. ]

OK.

[devoutish]

You'll rest. That's what you'll do. Even if you can't drink for a bit.

[bywolves]

[ He shudders. His taps come a little more erratic, frantic. ]

Don't want.

[devoutish]

No.

[Who would want that?]

cw: suicidal ideations

[bywolves]

Rather die. [ He knows Alfie doesn't like to hear that, but. He can't speak. And he knows Alfie knows Royce has lost his fingers and use of his legs, if he was watching the feed. ]

[devoutish]

Likely this isn't even real, Royce.

[bywolves]

[ That is one of the worst things Alfie could say. Royce stares down at his tablet - and he's almost angry enough, just for a moment, to shut the feed off. He doesn't, but there's a silence from him that's hurt and angrily silent. ]

[devoutish]

It's not likely to last, mate. All I meant.

[bywolves]

[ His taps come out aggressive. ] Real enough.

[devoutish]

Yeah. That isn't what I meant, mate.

[bywolves]

[ He knows, somewhere, that it isn't what Alfie meant, but he's in so much pain that it's just easier to be angry about it. ]

What you said.

[devoutish]

It's real-- it's real now. It's happening, yeah. But in the future--

[bywolves]

Still might be.

[ He's already tapping before Alfie finishes his sentence. ]

[devoutish]

You think I don't fucking--

[He cuts himself off forcing himself to stop, because Royce really doesn't need him snapping at him.]

I know. I know, mate, and I am sorry. I know.

[bywolves]

[ Alfie might not see it, or be able to tell, but Royce flinches at the angry tone, curling down and away from the tablet for a second. His breathing hitches. He stays quiet.

Then, weak again: ] Sorry.

[devoutish]

It's all right. You yell if you need to.

[Maybe not at him, but honestly, this is terrible enough that he's willing to be pretty forgiving and patient there.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce is silent for a while more, just listening to the music down the hall. He's cold and tired and he can't do anything about it, and finally, he grabs at his tablet the best he can. ]

Scared. [ Is what he taps, quiet, like he's afraid someone other than Alfie's going to hear. ]

[devoutish]

Yeah, I know.

[So is he.]

I'm coming for you. The rest of 'em, they'll get there first, but I'm coming.

[bywolves]

[ That's a relief. That's more of a relief than anything else. Alfie can't do a lot to help him in the state he's in, but Royce would trust him to make sure Royce got out okay more than anybody else not currently in this building with him. Royce lets out a little sigh, a fresh new set of tears rolling down his cheeks.

He doesn't sob this time, but close up, Alfie can probably hear the quiet crying. There's so much Royce wants to say and can't. ]

Careful. [ Royce tries - he stumbles on a letter in the middle, and stubbornly starts over, getting the word out, and then: ] Please.

[devoutish]

I will.

You might be landed back in the house we started out in.

[Which makes him nervous, and makes him torn on going versus waiting. But he's still coming, and a large part of it is the relief he feels from Royce in that pause.]

[bywolves]

[ That's okay, though. The way this feels, he's just going to be glad to get out at all. It doesn't matter where he ends up. ]

Please. [ His hand falters again - he's having a hard time even doing this, tapping. His fingers are throbbing. He doesn't care if he lands where they started out, just come get him. Please. ]