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

[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.]