[ Mercifully, he stays upright, held in place between Gebura's arm and her other hand. His fingers clutch reflexively at the steady, sturdy surface where they find purchase, fabric against fabric, and although Gebura's voice sounds muffled, he separates her words from the sludge smothering his senses while he inhales a breath of air to fill his lungs until his rib cage no longer feels as though it's constricting around them. He catches hold of the meaning of Gebura's reproach, following it past his own thoughts scattered into disarray, too many sent whirling like a swarm of butterflies and the chill of their fluttering wings. ]
I'm... just a little tired.
[ Thoroughness to ensure that nothing is overlooked, but not to the point that it becomes excessive, a waste of time — that should be the goal. This won't lead to an obsession, he means to convey. They have put the past behind them, and they know not to repeat its mistakes.
What he utters is inadequate for the moment, however, when it has the rough edges of a borrowed excuse that articulates nothing, and it sits there on his tongue like a mouthful of dust. ]
[ It's brusque; she's not going to take no for an answer. It's not quite the way he used to be, hyperfocusing on problems. Cleanliness. Himself and the things he could and couldn't control and it's a bit of a relief that she doesn't have to think about restraining him, for his own good.
He's still not that steady right now, so she eases them both to the floor, against a wall so she can use that arm to pull out a small bottle of water from her jacket pocket. She sets this by his feet so he can grab it when he's able and willing to. ]
Pace yourself. You're one of the few people I don't usually have to worry about.
[ Revulsion for himself slithers down his spine, but he lets his body lean against the wall supporting it, closing his eyes in an effort to piece himself back together. This isn't the Library, where they recover easily once any reception ends; here, days on end of strain have built up to barrel into him with such overwhelming force as soon as the last of his faltering hope gives way, leaving him reeling. The presence of the bottle of water registers distantly.
It occurs to him in a vague notion that he should remove his gloves to assure Gebura that they conceal nothing self-inflicted, that the escalator isn't some absurd lie. His fingers twitch against his palms.
It's pointless to review every moment in the mall now, searching them for missed opportunities for a more effective approach to defending themselves against what they couldn't predict. That amounts to nothing but self-flagellation. Still, accepting that there was nothing else that could have made a difference then, that there is nothing that can be done in the face of the same cycle repeating itself over and over... That's out of the question.
Eventually, making to sit up straighter, Yesod focuses on something else to address. ]
More or less. Not everyone, not immediately after.
[ She hadn't run into Roland or Angela at all, but Netzach...
That had been an experience she'd rather not go through again, to say nothing of what it had done to her coworker. Gebura can relieve her own death over and over and just sort of accept that it is what it is, that was just the past for you. But knowing Netzach hadn't ever harmed Carmen and them both witnessing the distinct opposite... whatever Yesod had been put through...
That irritates her more than anything. She makes no real move to... well, move. Yesod's recovering steadily, but she's in no rush to hurry them out of here until he's genuinely ready to move. ]
[ Yesod reaches for the offered water at last, his hands still too clumsy for his liking as they wrap around the bottle to bring it to his mouth for a sip. It feels cleansing, at least, as if it might rinse away the mud clouding his mind. He lifts his head, regarding Gebura, who has come back into focus, too.
More or less — it's no different for her, then. ]
The roommate arrangements may be particularly beneficial now.
But yeah, probably. We'll see if Angela feels like talking about it, but if nothing else, we're all at least aware that it's happened to pretty much all of us.
[ She's sure of it, that they were all in that mall. ]
Roland and Angela have also pointed that out to me...
[ Yesod's tone matches Gebura's, a sign that these moments inevitably keeping him in one place to rest have helped. The sickly pallor of his skin is improving, and he sets the bottle of water down without difficulty.
It's unpleasant, still, that it was evidently impossible to coordinate any of the measures that he'd contemplated in the mall. ]
I didn't expect to impose on you like this, Gebura. In any case... to tell the truth, I am concerned about Netzach.
[ But Netzach and Roland seem to be good company for each other, which should provide a distraction from their time in the mall as well. ]
[ With a hint of dryness but also some vague curiosity. Netzach in particular, huh... Well, Roland sucks at talking about his problems until he snaps and they have to fight him out of his problems, Angela is much the same but much more defensive about it, and Gebura herself doesn't tend to be troubled by things like this. Annoyed, yes. But not traumatized. ]
If you look at it one way, he's been through worse. [ They all have. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I'm... just a little tired.
[ Thoroughness to ensure that nothing is overlooked, but not to the point that it becomes excessive, a waste of time — that should be the goal. This won't lead to an obsession, he means to convey. They have put the past behind them, and they know not to repeat its mistakes.
What he utters is inadequate for the moment, however, when it has the rough edges of a borrowed excuse that articulates nothing, and it sits there on his tongue like a mouthful of dust. ]
...I'll clean this up.
no subject
[ It's brusque; she's not going to take no for an answer. It's not quite the way he used to be, hyperfocusing on problems. Cleanliness. Himself and the things he could and couldn't control and it's a bit of a relief that she doesn't have to think about restraining him, for his own good.
He's still not that steady right now, so she eases them both to the floor, against a wall so she can use that arm to pull out a small bottle of water from her jacket pocket. She sets this by his feet so he can grab it when he's able and willing to. ]
Pace yourself. You're one of the few people I don't usually have to worry about.
cw: minor past self-harm allusion
[ Revulsion for himself slithers down his spine, but he lets his body lean against the wall supporting it, closing his eyes in an effort to piece himself back together. This isn't the Library, where they recover easily once any reception ends; here, days on end of strain have built up to barrel into him with such overwhelming force as soon as the last of his faltering hope gives way, leaving him reeling. The presence of the bottle of water registers distantly.
It occurs to him in a vague notion that he should remove his gloves to assure Gebura that they conceal nothing self-inflicted, that the escalator isn't some absurd lie. His fingers twitch against his palms.
It's pointless to review every moment in the mall now, searching them for missed opportunities for a more effective approach to defending themselves against what they couldn't predict. That amounts to nothing but self-flagellation. Still, accepting that there was nothing else that could have made a difference then, that there is nothing that can be done in the face of the same cycle repeating itself over and over... That's out of the question.
Eventually, making to sit up straighter, Yesod focuses on something else to address. ]
...You've spoken with the others?
no subject
[ She hadn't run into Roland or Angela at all, but Netzach...
That had been an experience she'd rather not go through again, to say nothing of what it had done to her coworker. Gebura can relieve her own death over and over and just sort of accept that it is what it is, that was just the past for you. But knowing Netzach hadn't ever harmed Carmen and them both witnessing the distinct opposite... whatever Yesod had been put through...
That irritates her more than anything. She makes no real move to... well, move. Yesod's recovering steadily, but she's in no rush to hurry them out of here until he's genuinely ready to move. ]
no subject
More or less — it's no different for her, then. ]
The roommate arrangements may be particularly beneficial now.
no subject
But yeah, probably. We'll see if Angela feels like talking about it, but if nothing else, we're all at least aware that it's happened to pretty much all of us.
[ She's sure of it, that they were all in that mall. ]
... Feeling a little more clear-headed?
no subject
[ Yesod's tone matches Gebura's, a sign that these moments inevitably keeping him in one place to rest have helped. The sickly pallor of his skin is improving, and he sets the bottle of water down without difficulty.
It's unpleasant, still, that it was evidently impossible to coordinate any of the measures that he'd contemplated in the mall. ]
I didn't expect to impose on you like this, Gebura. In any case... to tell the truth, I am concerned about Netzach.
[ But Netzach and Roland seem to be good company for each other, which should provide a distraction from their time in the mall as well. ]
no subject
[ With a hint of dryness but also some vague curiosity. Netzach in particular, huh... Well, Roland sucks at talking about his problems until he snaps and they have to fight him out of his problems, Angela is much the same but much more defensive about it, and Gebura herself doesn't tend to be troubled by things like this. Annoyed, yes. But not traumatized. ]
If you look at it one way, he's been through worse. [ They all have. ]