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[devoutish]

Yeah?

[That's it, that's all you get.]

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[headjacked]

No. Sitting.

[devoutish]

Good, because you're in no state to be up and about.

[Total Disapproving Dad tone here.]

You know you're doing wrong, then, by your own admission. I'm sure you know the question I'm gonna ask next, yeah?

[headjacked]

Do I get three guesses.

[ Cognitively speaking, Rhys is shot. ]

[devoutish]

Why are you doing it at all?

[headjacked]

I don't -

[ HIC ]

I don't know, everything just kind of spilled out, and I didn't mean the stuff about her. Or her planet.

[devoutish]

And why are you telling me?

[headjacked]

Do you think I'm in a good state to talk to Fiona?? Do you think she should give me another chance? I wouldn't give me an extra chance!

[devoutish]

You haven't been in a good state in all the time I've known you, mate.

[headjacked]

[ Rhys snorts a gross, teary snort. ]

Well, this time I brought my shovel and started digging!




Myself. Into a hole. A pit.

[devoutish]

And now you're feeling sorry for yourself, and what exactly is that gonna do for you?

[headjacked]

...nothing. It's not about me in the end.

S'why I'm talking to you, you. Like I said, you don't put up with it. Whining and stuff.

[devoutish]

I do not, no.

[And if this were any kind of life-or-death or time-sensitive situation, Alfie would be much less patient. Sorry, Rhys.]

You need to pull yourself together. I cannot tell you how to do that.

[headjacked]

I know.

I just like talking to you is all. [ He sounds like a little kid. He can't stop himself. ] I mean, you basically yanked me off the edge of crazytown last time I was losing it. Just by talking.

[devoutish]

That is better done in person, not over these widdly things.

You haven't been dealing with it, have you? But when you don't deal with it, you become a fucking liability, and I don't think you want that.

[headjacked]

I thought I was functional, but holy shit, was I wrong. I.

[ DEEEEEP. BREATH. ]

Angel and I, we'll stay put for a little while. A little while. I can get over myself then.

[devoutish]

And then? What are your plans?

[headjacked]

I, um. I figure out what I say to Fiona. If I say anything to her. She doesn't want to hear from me, so... hell, maybe that's what's best here.

[devoutish]

Mm, yeah.

I never understood why you'd want any of that in your body in the first place.

[headjacked]

Any... wh- cybernetics?

[devoutish]

Yeah. The arm, the eye, the thing in your head.

[headjacked]

It's... honestly not, uh. Not a big deal in my time-slash-place. The implant surgery is safe. Mostly safe.

[devoutish]

It's fucking unnatural.

[headjacked]

Time marches on, I-I guess? And if you're down a limb, a fully responsive replacement is better than... a block of wood, or. Uh. Whatever they used in your day.

[devoutish]

Suppose so.

But a block of wood doesn't try to be a replacement, does it.

[headjacked]

Mmm.

If your arm was gone, and the option was there... you wouldn't go for what I have?