[log] how deep are we gonna go with this?

[bywolves]

Characters: Alfie and Royce
Location: Downtown
Date: Day 292 to Day 295
Summary: Exposure effects, a brief reprieve, and then event shenanigans.
Warnings: Nothing yet, will update if anything comes up.

Starters below!

Comments

[devoutish]

Sixty? Oof. I'd be over a hundred if it had been sixty years, mate.

[bywolves]

[ He glances at Alfie. ] Time feels different for me, then.

Could've sworn I was a hundred. Not that I knew how old I was to begin with.

[devoutish]

[He lifts a hand to play his fingers through Royce's hair.]

Have you been paying more attention to my age than to your own?

[bywolves]

[ He definitely linefaces at that question, even as he tilts a little into the hand in his hair. It's shorter than it used to be, but he still likes it. ]

It doesn't matter how old I am. [ So, yes. ]

[devoutish]

And what if it matters to me, then, eh?

[bywolves]

Don't know why it would.

[devoutish]

Don't be ridiculous, it's the most important thing in the world to me.

[Go ahead, Royce, ask why.]

[bywolves]

[ He gonna. ]

Why?

[devoutish]

Why do you think?

[bywolves]

I don't know. You're going to die before I do, I don't understand why you'd care how old I am.

[devoutish]

[Alfie takes a tiny sip of tea, testing to see if it's cooled off enough to drink without burning his tongue. It hasn't, so he sticks it under the covers and presses it between his feet to warm them up.]

Because it's to do with you, that's why.

[bywolves]

[ Royce watches Alfie move to warm himself up, and frowns heavily. He tucks the blankets in a little further, fussing. ]

I don't understand. [ Royce says, after a moment. He's going to get at this bread, though. ]

[devoutish]

If stuff is to do with you, then it's important to me.

[bywolves]

[ Royce shifts, tilting his head to press his face against the side of Alfie's head. Oh. Okay. Yeah, that makes sense, and he knows that. ]

I need - I need to ask you a selfish favor. [ Royce mumbles, voice wavering a little. ]

[devoutish]

[Oh no, the voice trembling. Alfie braces Royce's head against his, nuzzling him soothingly.]

Yeah.

[bywolves]

Hang on as long as you can. [ Royce mumbles, eyes closed. ] If the nanomachines fail to bring you back after you - you die of old age, I...

[ Hold on. He has to steady his voice. ] Don't go for as long as possible. Please. Even if it means staying in Norfinbury for a few more days than you'd like.

[devoutish]

[Do you hear that? That's the sound of Alfie's breaking heart.]

Yeah.

[His fingers tangle in Royce's hair.]

Yeah, I will; yeah.

[bywolves]

Okay.

[ That's all he can get out without losing the battle against the tears that are struggling to get free. He goes quiet, trying to even out his breathing with deep and steady inhales and exhales. He's okay. He knows they probably have time, it's just.

He wouldn't be completely alone, he knows. But he doesn't have a place by the side of anybody else, here. He doesn't want to live the rest of his life being a third wheel. ]

[devoutish]

Ah, Royce.

[As he's trying to wrap Royce up in his arms as well as he can, he remarks:]

I used to be bigger.

[It used to be easier to just engulf him.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce leans into the embrace, eyes still closed. ]

You shrunk. [ Royce mumbles, hiding his face. He's trying not to be depressing but - the poisoning still lurks in him, makes it hard to pull himself back up out of the yawning pit. ] You're going to end up even shorter than me.

[devoutish]

I did shrink. You'll need to shrink, too; I like being bigger than you.

[bywolves]

I like you being bigger than me, too. [ For a lot of reasons. He's joking, here, but his voice is wet. ] People keep mistaking me as the muscle, you know.

[devoutish]

Nah. You're the secret weapon.

[bywolves]

I used to be. [ A long time ago. Royce reaches for Alfie's hand, bread forgotten for the moment. ] Too old to be that anymore.

[devoutish]

Mmmm.

[He squeezes Royce's fingers, trying to reassure him with how firm his grip is.]

Let me ask you something. How often do you worry about this, but not want to tell me about it?