Dictation - 4 [Text] (Forward Dated to the 7th)

[drabsolutelynot]

[When he had blinked back into life upon Hope's altar, Rosen had felt neither joy nor sadness at the fact. He had stared dumbly at the ceiling, noting with vague surprise and disappointment that death seems to do nothing for alleviating a person's mental and emotional exhaustion. They, or at least he, simply felt the same heaviness and dull discomfort that seems to come with owning mortal flesh. Mortal flesh that has aged and withered, had grown gaunt and grey.

There was no ceremony or eagerness to the way he pulled himself up, sat for another moment or so, and gathered himself onto his feet. 

There was a slight haze. A disorientation that felt like heavy fingers gripping lazily at the back of his brain, just tightly enough to be a constant drain but not an actual impairment, and with the same slow, apathetic demeanor he had begun the trudge back to the spires, climbed the steps, opened the door, then tucked himself away inside his apartment, slumped into a chair at his kitchen table. 

What now? 

Should he call someone? Inform someone that he was back? In his tired fog he couldn't really see a point to telling anyone. What difference would it make? Was it even important? His empty apartment almost felt, in that moment, like evidence confirming that no, it was not. 

At some point his fingers crept into his sweater pocket and fished out his phone, and at last he typed out a simple and emotionless text]

Has anyone seen my satchel? 

Comments

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance waits until he's finished, trying to decide where the line falls between providing encouragement and just arguing, before deciding he's said what he should say already. He won't repeat it, and hopefully despite Rosen's response the potential of things improving is something that will stay with Rosen and perhaps he'll think about it later.

So he nods at the last comment, gaze far away for a moment before refocusing.]

Ultimately, that's the most important thing.

[Lance had made his own choices, too.

He takes a deep breath, straightening up a little, and picks up his coffee again before addressing Rosen once more, a little more upbeat.]

I still can't really cook, so you'll have to assist if you want any of this stuff made into something edible.

[Up, Rosen, let's get to the making food and stop focusing on depressing things that can't be changed.]

[drabsolutelynot]

[Rosen nods in agreement. He had to agree. He had known when he made his choice to out the higher ranking officials in the DoD what his most likely fate would be, and he had acted even so. So whatever his feeling on his current situation, his prison cell, his destroyed reputation, he cannot pretend to himself he didn't act knowing this was down that road. However foresight doesn't necessarily make the consequences easier to swallow.

Lance's next comment wins an actual chuckle, though it is short lived. It is an oddly reassuring in a way: certain things haven't changed in the cave. ]

Fair enough.

[Setting a hand on the arm of the chair, Rosen pushes himself up, stretching a moment and cracking his neck with a pull of his head to the right, before stepping in Lance's direction. His expression then shifts slightly to something more pensive, eyes seemingly staring through Lance in thought. Lance was standing there just as tangible and alive as anyone else in this cave. Coffee in hand like any number of caffeine addicts in their mid-20s early 30s back home that Rosen shuffles past in New York on a day to day basis. But Lance wasn't one of them. Not simply because they might be from different versions of earth, but because there isn't a place for Lance alive any longer in any world outside of Hadriel. Wherever it was, he wouldn't be one of the young people back in their worlds rushing on their way to their futures.

Lee slows, bringing himself toe to toe with the young man and in a deft movement pulls him into a hug, holding him tightly for a brief moment, and hiding his face against Lance's shoulder.]

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance is pleased to see Rosen's chuckle and agreement, giving a small nod of both understanding and encouragement, and he's about to turn his focus to trying to figure out what could actually be made with the ingredients when Rosen steps toward him. His eyebrows furrow slightly, trying to figure out the meaning for the change of course and body language, when Rosen suddenly pulls him into a hug.

Lance freezes for a moment and goes tense, but resists the urge to pull back; he isn't completely startled, and the hug is unexpected but not unwelcome. He even manages to return it after a moment, although perhaps still a bit rigidly, but the intent is probably clear despite that.

He isn't totally sure what the hug is for, but considering Rosen just returned from the dead there's plenty of good reason.]

[drabsolutelynot]

[The last person Rosen hugged was Frisk and that was after the city had been made whole again. Oddly enough the same day Lance had arrived. Prior to that the last hug Rosen could really remember was the one his Rachel gave him as he left his clinic for the last time, on his way to the DoD summit where everything fell apart.

Hugs in Rosen's life are things that never seem to come without somehow being connected to a tidal shift. Either they foretell the ground falling out beneath him or they are a desperately sought after boon in the sea after he's managed to once again survive a wreck. Though he almost never realizes he's seeking it in the first place.

After a moment he releases Lance, doing the awkward pat on the back that men seem to do when they are unused to showing such emotion, and wordlessly stepping into the kitchen to examine the groceries.

Its another long moment before he looks up]

Omelettes?

[lifetothefullest]

[Lance watches Rosen pass by into the kitchen, letting him looking through the groceries without interruption, and raises his eyebrows at the question.]

I will absolutely not refuse omelettes.

[In other words, please.]

[drabsolutelynot]

[He chuckles tiredly and nods]

Then omelettes it is.

[He gathers up the eggs]

Where is your frying p-- why am I asking? I remember

[And he proceeds to start rummaging through Lance's cupboards half mumbling to himself]