[This is just a bad way for this conversation to go he doesn't really get up to do anything about this, he's just sitting here waiting for him to come back. Great job at empathy, guy.
The truth is, he's not particularly good at comforting his friends normally, tends to leave that for others or use Frumpkin, but he especially has no idea what to do if it's Molly. At the time he knew him, he never would have tried.]
[beau isn't particularly good at comforting either, she thinks, but she's not going to just stand here and wait. she follows, without thinking about it, right after him, and - well, his hair isn't really that long but she'll keep it back for him, and put her hand on his back, expression worried.]
[Yeah that's fine he and the trashcan are friends now. As in he's using it to just keep upright, leaning heavily on his arms. At least the urge to lose his guts has passed, the sort of initial shock of a blow you know was coming, but still somehow shockingly hurts. Like a glaive going through your chest, but the pain doesn't come until the blade is twisted.
What an idiot, thinking he was going to be able to handle this. A fool. Quiet for a long minute, before he starts up again, standing up fully and making a face while he wipes his tongue off.]
[she stays right next to him, trying to just - figure out what to do. she's not really sure she can do anything here, like what do you say in a situation like this. nobody has written a manual for how to comfort your dead friend from months ago.
her fingers tangle into the back of his shirt, at least.]
[He's mostly staring off into space, struggling to process how much he wants to actually deal with here. Or what he wants to do with it. It was the wrong time to ask, maybe, but it was getting to the point they couldn't ask anything else without the looming shadow of it there. Looking between her and Caleb back over his shoulder for a second, hand over his mouth while he thinks.]
Kind of think I do.
[There is nothing more he'd like right now than to keep his shit together.]
[He just nods at those statements. Not really sure where he stands on how much he believes them. He wants to. They've said it in different ways a few times.
You're watching an expert compartmentalizer compartmentalize at a breakneck speed. Shoving it all back into that dark, whispering corner for now.
Time for that later.]
Right. Probably have to deal with the ... [waving a hand to the general area.] Immediate problem first, though.
she is watching! and she hates it! thanks! but she also does not know what to do and it's been such a long day that maybe she will just get really drunk instead. that sounds good.]
... I'm taking notes, at least. [she says, finally letting go of molly's shirt.]
[He reaches over to just clap Beau on the back - appreciative. He goes very hot and cold with his touchy-feelyness. Some days it's a lot, others less. Here it's been ... hard, the distance palpable. That was rough but it probably needed to come out.
He'll come back over to just sit and drink, but he's fairly quiet now, tail wrapped around his own ankle and staring off. This is awkward as fuck, but he doesn't exactly want to leave either.]
[Yeah, I figure they will. Probably sit and drink and talk vaguely about trial and stuff like that for a while unless he has more to ask. But Frumpkin can come sit next to him and start trying to bat at his tail.]
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The truth is, he's not particularly good at comforting his friends normally, tends to leave that for others or use Frumpkin, but he especially has no idea what to do if it's Molly. At the time he knew him, he never would have tried.]
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Hey --
[beau isn't particularly good at comforting either, she thinks, but she's not going to just stand here and wait. she follows, without thinking about it, right after him, and - well, his hair isn't really that long but she'll keep it back for him, and put her hand on his back, expression worried.]
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What an idiot, thinking he was going to be able to handle this. A fool. Quiet for a long minute, before he starts up again, standing up fully and making a face while he wipes his tongue off.]
'M fine. It's alright.
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her fingers tangle into the back of his shirt, at least.]
You don't have to be. [she says, quietly.]
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Kind of think I do.
[There is nothing more he'd like right now than to keep his shit together.]
Maybe that's enough for now.
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[So he has something to say, finally. But then, at the 'enough for now.']
Sure, no more talking about it.
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[she says, a little sharper. but yeah. no more talking, if that's what he wants. she hasn't really let go yet, either.]
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You're watching an expert compartmentalizer compartmentalize at a breakneck speed. Shoving it all back into that dark, whispering corner for now.
Time for that later.]
Right. Probably have to deal with the ... [waving a hand to the general area.] Immediate problem first, though.
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[Not really tonight, they're just drinking. But. It's better than him having a panic attack?]
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she is watching! and she hates it! thanks! but she also does not know what to do and it's been such a long day that maybe she will just get really drunk instead. that sounds good.]
... I'm taking notes, at least. [she says, finally letting go of molly's shirt.]
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He'll come back over to just sit and drink, but he's fairly quiet now, tail wrapped around his own ankle and staring off. This is awkward as fuck, but he doesn't exactly want to leave either.]
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