ic contact//CURRENT

[darkov]

[INSERT DEFAULT INBOX VOICE MESSAGE/EMAIL GREETING HERE]
email: ENABLED (will go unanswered)
text: ENABLED (high probability these will go unanswered)
phone/audio: ENABLED
video: ENABLED
latest status update 3/6/2018

Comments

[d33tached]

I see.

It isn't typical for you to respond via text message. You've been practicing your writing skills, I see.

Is that your intention now as well?

[He seems...suspicious.]

[darkov]

[FUN FACT I USE THE SAME... HTML FONT FACE = "COURIER" TAG ON MOBILE AND WEB....................BUT IT LOOKS WEIRD WHEN I TYPE IT IN FROM MOBILE. HUH!!!!!!!!!

anyway whatever here's marty, lowkey sweating as this interrogation goes on, because one can only be so barely-lucid for so long before realizing he's probably putting himself in trouble here by simply not wanting to go to the trouble to talk in the first place god being sad and a teenager and also coming down from being a psychopomp is hard]

no sorry

THAT SAME THING HAPPENS ON MY PHONE WTF I know how to fix it tho

[d33tached]

[See, this is why D33 would not make a good teacher. He is already so incredibly frustrated by these short replies. He tries not to let it show too clearly in his voice.]

Are you alright, in that case?

[Give him something to work with here, kid.]

h o w

[darkov]

[a marked delay. the struggle to avoid trouble vs not wanting to lie bc lies are bad.]

no

edit a comment u did on a computer and copy the code from there

[d33tached]

[Ah. D33 is...either surprised by the answer or simply by the honesty, he's not sure which. Either way, his voice takes on a slightly harder edge when he speaks again.]

Are you in peril?

Are you injured?

shit...DW WHY DO U DO THIS

[darkov]

no its over sorry

[d33tached]

What's over?

You weren't involved in this most recent series of events, were you?

[Concern?]

[darkov]

wodn yes

[d33tached]

[Well, shit? Holy shit.]

Martin, speak to me, won't you? Are you alright? Are you unharmed?

[Dumb kid getting into that mess!]

[darkov]

[ugh. well, if he wants words? he's going to have to wait a minute or seven-- not just to change modes, but for Martin to muster any energy or voice to speak. when he does, it's hoarse and kind of cranky:]

I don't...know how to answer. Sorry.

[d33tached]

[That's a fair answer if D33 ever heard one, but it does nothing to ease his anxiety. Why does he care, again? He's not sure. It probably has something to do with the camaraderie he felt for Martin during the whole age fiasco.]

Physically, are you unharmed?

[Give him that at least?]

[darkov]

Yes. I'm just... [a pause.] I don't know.

I'm tired.

[d33tached]

What happened?

[darkov]

[in a slow exhale:] A lot. I'm sorry. I'm...this is why I didn't speak. I can't...even think about it all. I... [hhhhh.] I messed up. A lot. There's more to it, but I can't. Right now. Sorry.

[d33tached]

[D33 can hear how overwhelmed the boy sounds - or is exhausted the right word? He can't really even pretend to know him well enough to keep pressing, despite whatever connection they might have made last month.

[He'll leave it. For now.]

Very well then, Martin. [He doesn't sound so much irritated as stiff, but maybe a bit less so than normal.] May I ask...are you in need of anything?

[He feels...almost guilty about this? However deep down it is, something inside of D33 doesn't want Martin to suffer.]

[darkov]

I don't know.

[it's a typical answer, but not spoken the same. it's weary and bleak.

and, after a beat:] ...No. Nothing. It's fine. Thank you.

[d33tached]

[D33 hears the answer, weak, broken-sounding, all too familiar. It makes D33's stomach churn to think of turning away from the boy, but he recognizes that there isn't much more he can do, especially when he's not very good at doing things for other people in the first place.]

Very well, Martin.

[And he almost ends the transmission there. But, just before he does...]

It seems your writing skills have improved.

You may contact me should you find it necessary. Good evening, Martin.

[darkov]

[a part of him feels a want to be petulant and bitter -- to remark on how pointless it is to even bring up writing. what does it matter? it didn't keep him from avoiding a conversation.

the rest of him is too tired to protest. he'll reflect later on the D33 that was younger, and how that one and this one...are the same person? but he can't do it right now; his head is too heavy with the weight of a dozen-plus lives that aren't his, all bleeding over into things that are his, and all of it the result of dying breaths and the loss of loved ones.

he utters a very small good-bye and just leaves it at that, then, and instead of feeling guilty, he just feels cold.]