Hey, Vil. Yes, I'm resting plenty and I'm eating fine.
[The rest part is definitely true, though he doesn't find the excessive sleep to be all that restful. He eats about as well as any teenage boy eats, left unattended. Luckily, though:]
I have Charlie to look after me too. Don't worry, Vil.
How are you doing? Did you make it out of things alright?
Charlie is an even greener spudling than you. I hope he’s still not smoking indoors.
[Vil nags for probably the thousandth time, but Vil wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t a fussy prima donna.]
I came out unscathed, but it would seem as though my vice housewarden returned home. I’m not sure if that’s spectacular timing or terrible timing on his part, but there’s nothing for it now.
I’ve started clearing out his room. If you’ve a fondness for pelts or concealed weaponry, speak up now before it all gets packed away.
That aside, how are you doing? These disasters have a way of lingering in the mind like a foul smell.
[Neil feels a bit shocked at the way Vil, business-like, glosses over someone close to him leaving, right down to getting rid of his things. It feels so cold compared to the man who held Neil to his chest and kissed the top of his head.
[Neil wonders if he's grieving. He wants to reach out, but Vil has already moved on. He doesn't necessarily seem the type to invite the same care he gives to others.]
I'm sorry your friend went home.
I don't have any need for things like that, no. Aside, I'm doing alright.
[It's a lie, and he doesn't want to lie. Maybe he can just soften the truth.]
You're right, though. It's been difficult to get things off my mind.
He's where he belongs. I'll miss him, but he's as capable as he is a handful. If nothing else I'll have a break from him trying to bring home every carcass he shot down into the kitchen.
You may have met him in passing when I had him run errands for me. Blonde bob, feathered hat, would wax poetic for twenty minutes about the beauty of a clock if you asked him the time?
[And there's no more certain way to tell how much Vil cares about people than by seeing how much he complains about them being a pain in his ass. So Rook would be very dearly missed, but that was a loss he'd deal with in private, as he tends to do.]
As much as you'll likely not like this advice, give yourself time to feel that pain and fear, find distractions when you need a break. Do not let it bottle inside you.
As much as I know this isn't "your thing", I go for a run every morning, and I find it helps. You're more than welcome to join me if you feel up to it.
And here I thought otherwise, given how your eyes glaze over when I start trying to talk about your health.
[Granted, his discussions of health also included hair and skincare routines, yoga, and other similar things that weren't masculine enough to cut it in Neil's era.]
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text; un: whitman
[The rest part is definitely true, though he doesn't find the excessive sleep to be all that restful. He eats about as well as any teenage boy eats, left unattended. Luckily, though:]
I have Charlie to look after me too. Don't worry, Vil.
How are you doing? Did you make it out of things alright?
no subject
[Vil nags for probably the thousandth time, but Vil wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t a fussy prima donna.]
I came out unscathed, but it would seem as though my vice housewarden returned home. I’m not sure if that’s spectacular timing or terrible timing on his part, but there’s nothing for it now.
I’ve started clearing out his room. If you’ve a fondness for pelts or concealed weaponry, speak up now before it all gets packed away.
That aside, how are you doing? These disasters have a way of lingering in the mind like a foul smell.
no subject
[Neil wonders if he's grieving. He wants to reach out, but Vil has already moved on. He doesn't necessarily seem the type to invite the same care he gives to others.]
I'm sorry your friend went home.
I don't have any need for things like that, no. Aside, I'm doing alright.
[It's a lie, and he doesn't want to lie. Maybe he can just soften the truth.]
You're right, though. It's been difficult to get things off my mind.
no subject
You may have met him in passing when I had him run errands for me. Blonde bob, feathered hat, would wax poetic for twenty minutes about the beauty of a clock if you asked him the time?
[And there's no more certain way to tell how much Vil cares about people than by seeing how much he complains about them being a pain in his ass. So Rook would be very dearly missed, but that was a loss he'd deal with in private, as he tends to do.]
As much as you'll likely not like this advice, give yourself time to feel that pain and fear, find distractions when you need a break. Do not let it bottle inside you.
As much as I know this isn't "your thing", I go for a run every morning, and I find it helps. You're more than welcome to join me if you feel up to it.
no subject
no subject
[Granted, his discussions of health also included hair and skincare routines, yoga, and other similar things that weren't masculine enough to cut it in Neil's era.]
Alright then, is 7 or 7:30 better for you?
no subject
Let me get back to you.
no subject
no subject
Let's do 7:30 then.
no subject
cries we can wrap if you like
Thanks. :)