vor | Eighth Cream Cake: [Written/Action/Voice] FORWARD-DATED to the 9th

[A week of research was a questionable coping mechanism. It succeeded in keeping him from having to talk to anyone. Also, in keeping him busy. However, a week buried in information brings on a loneliness that makes unchecked depression go rampant.

That's the worst part about it, sometimes. Being so utterly incapable of breaking the ice, of visiting someone and drudging up polite conversation and leaving that loneliness behind. He can't conjure the energy to visit anyone or ask for a visit, but everything is so much worse when he's lonely. Walking that circle is worse than rummaging through page after page of data, wanting to find and yet terrified of finding. He hated it alone in the research rooms, but feared going back to the same cycle, the same circle, as before.

When he comes back, he puts off going back to the flat for as long as possible. He sees to the horses at the stable, introducing the new mare to the others. Horses don't require conversation, but they provide companionship. Gregor is faintly disturbed by that thought, as if working with the horses might be more harmful than therapeutic. He finds himself clutching Babushka's mane in both fists, his face buried in her shoulder, heart pounding with the sudden, dizzy speculation that the one thing that makes him feel happy in this place is poisoned by his own weakness. No. No, no, no, he's not about to start thinking that way. Working with the horses means working with the hands, and that's human interaction. He enjoys that part. There's a premise to it, nothing forced. It's okay. He's being ridiculous about this. Gradually, he releases Babushka's mane. Her placid temperament helps. It's as if she barely noticed.

He should go home and take a shower, but instead he sits in the stable and sends a written message out, filtering it only lazily since it's nothing important.]

[Filtered to Ivan Vorpatril, Buffy Summers, Adele LeBlanc, and everyone who works at the stable or takes lessons - 35% unhackable]

I've come back.
--GVB

[/Filtered.]

[Then, it's anything he can do to keep from going back to that apartment. He knows once he's there, he'll nest in his safe little area and be completely trapped, alone with his own thoughts. So he plunks himself into the coffee shop with a cup of coffee and a cream cake he brought over from the bakery. He should check up on Loki (he has his own problems). He should talk to Nephry (she shouldn't see me like this). Or Molly (neither should she). Or Buffy (no pretending no no no...). Or Adele (nothing she can do). The trouble is that he's not fit to be seen by anyone. There's really nowhere to go but home, is there? Like it or not, he's chained to that place. Heaven forbid he send out a message to any one of them, or even that idiot Ivan, saying, I need help, today is a bad day, I don't care what you do just make sure...

Make sure of what? That he doesn't topple off any more balconies? He knows where death leads here. Everyone does. It would sound so stupid to explain why having one week asleep, one week ushered painlessly by during the wait to go home would be worth a death penalty.

...He needs to talk himself out of thinking that way.

At last, he sends out a voice message.]

The public stables are open, with three horses available to anyone who needs them. Just check them out with the on-duty stable hand.

[After inquiries are responded to, there's nothing to do but go home. Once he is there, he is most likely to curl up on his couch and not answer the door or any messages.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Gregor glances sharply at his friend, studying his manner closely before relaxing at last. He's seen this gesture made to others, even if his status barred it from being something he really experienced himself. As benign as a clasp on the shoulder, just a little reminder that the other person was there. He gives an acknowledging nod, not sure what else to do about it.]

[Loki almost pulls his hand away immediately, at that look. But he recognizes it as one he often has himself, the uncertainty of wondering what a gesture means, because normally he's untouchable for one reasons or another.]

It's all right.

[He says this, even knowing that they both understand it isn't all right, and it will never be all right. At this point, it's all they've got.]

[Now that catches him off-guard. No one has said those words to him, or any spiritual counterparts, since he was about five years old. Not in a sense meant to comfort or usher away all fears, anyway. Is that why it feels a bit like Loki is talking to a child? Then again, if Loki is as old as he says he is, perhaps all humans seem like children to him.

At the same time, something tightens in his chest. This is, at least, Loki's first blatant lie to him, even if they both understand it to be so.

He sighs.]

You don't...have to say that.

[Loki gives Gregor's knee a light squeeze and then sits back.]

I know.

But I wanted to.

[It's an Aral Vorkosigan gesture. That's where it seems familiar. Something Aral would do to Miles, anyway, never Gregor.] That's...kind of you. People usually make a point of ensuring I know how very dire the situation is. It's not very comforting.

[Loki laughs.] I think we're both well aware of how grim things can be, my friend. No need to tell you what you already know.

Rather, better to tell you what we're neither brave enough to hope, no?

Brave enough to hope. Sounds like something Lady Cordelia would say.

From what you've said of Lady Cordelia, she's an unlikely one for me to channel.

You kind of remind me of her son, actually. Lord Miles.

The lady has my deepest sympathy, then.

Except he's hyperactive as hell.

So really what you're saying is that it could be worse.

I grew up with him and survived.

There is much of my own childhood I survived. [Loki grins.] Which is not to say I would care to share a house with any of it.

[That gets a grin. Loki can credit himself with diverting Gregor on a hard day.] Miles is all right. Annoying as hell, sometimes, but it's hard not to like him. He has a way of...oh, of getting under your skin in good ways and bad. He once left on a family visit to Beta Colony and came home with three thousand mercenary troops under his command. He had to do some creative legal trickery to avoid the treason charge.

[And Aral had to literally beg Count Vordrozda, yes, but mentioning that does not keep the story light and silly.]

[Loki laughs.]

He rather sounds like my sort of person.

You might wind up strangling him, I'm not sure. But he's definitely the conniving sort.

...And yet, I've never had a more loyal supporter, I think. You should've seen his games when we were children.

Edited Date: 2012-10-13 12:21 am (UTC)

One can never be certain. People of my ilk either get along eerily well or plot each other's destruction with unholy glee.

...sometimes both at the same time. [He laughs.]

Then you are lucky indeed. What manner of games?

Pretend, mostly. He was always my champion general or admiral or whatnot, while Ivan and Elena were his soldiers. Meant I played the Emperor in Distress a lot. Or just dished out missions.

Ah, those games.

[He smiles, almost fondly.]

I was often the author of pretend, since I was the best read. Though then it always devolved into a pitched battle of heroes, for some reason.