Useless and insolent, but killed by an opportunist looking for easy prey, which is far more offensive. As we say on the Ninth, death first to vultures and scavengers.
[Her lips are a little thin. She's been stomping around all week wanting to solve the ~mystery~ and bring it back to him like a cat with a dead bird. She hasn't really made much headway on that, and meanwhile had her whole self literally and metaphorically chewed up and spit out and cried twice on him.
It just doesn't really sit well with her. It makes her feel a little useless.]
It's a poor idea, to wander about sleep deprived. You'll sleep tonight. Get one of the Avatars to get you a sleeping aid if you must.
[Well, now he's going to get a little pissy in return, because it's clear she's right and he now has chosen this hill to die on. His arms cross and his tail swishes, agitated.]
I'm really not seeing the issue. I've been doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. I'm indulging, I'm alert, I'm going to help with the-- justice seeking tomorrow as best as I can. I don't want to . . . I just don't want to knock myself out and have dreams of my friend melting into lava, so I think I can perfectly well make that choice myself.
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As we say in the Nein: what in the hell, Harrow.
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Last night you said you hadn't slept for a week.
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Just a comment. Wouldn't worry about it. Certainly slept last night.
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[Her lips are a little thin. She's been stomping around all week wanting to solve the ~mystery~ and bring it back to him like a cat with a dead bird. She hasn't really made much headway on that, and meanwhile had her whole self literally and metaphorically chewed up and spit out and cried twice on him.
It just doesn't really sit well with her. It makes her feel a little useless.]
It's a poor idea, to wander about sleep deprived. You'll sleep tonight. Get one of the Avatars to get you a sleeping aid if you must.
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Tried the-- what was it, opium, didn't much care for it, so I think I'll be--
[trailing off.]
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Surely there's something between opium and nothing.
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[Sass.]
I don't-- I don't like what I think about when I'm just laying there. If I'm doing something, it's fine.
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I'm really not seeing the issue. I've been doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. I'm indulging, I'm alert, I'm going to help with the-- justice seeking tomorrow as best as I can. I don't want to . . . I just don't want to knock myself out and have dreams of my friend melting into lava, so I think I can perfectly well make that choice myself.
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Is that what you're afraid of?
[Dreams? Hmm. She crosses her arms.]
I can't promise you won't have them. But. . . hmm. Is not sleeping something you can do?
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[It's not!]
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[Stupid.]
I wish I could tell you there was a way you didn't have to dream of her. But the only way past this is through.
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Evidence?
[Ugh!]
Who says I want to be past it?
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If you intend to keep your promises, you must. Even if not now, if you can't take care of yourself it will kill you.
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You must know my comeback to that one, Harrow.
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Fine. Go lie down and die, then, if it's so inevitable.
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. . . I'll ask. About a sleep aide.
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[She's crossing her arms and going into her sullen, I definitely don't care about you mode.]
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. . . Thank you.
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[And then with a little more feeling - ]
I won't allow you to fail. Even if I have to drag you myself. And that won't be fun for you.
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Might be one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to my face. And Beau told me part of my eulogy, so, high bar.