hadriel | 010 [Text]

Entry tags:

010 [Text]

[Lance doesn't typically post to the network within a few weeks of a previous post, partially because talking to so many people is exhausting and partially because he usually doesn't have anything to say so soon after. But this time he has two brief announcements that happen to be time-sensitive, so here goes.]

Hello everyone. The list of who is available and willing to teach particular skills is now available, and I'll continue to make changes to it as requested; it isn't too late to volunteer, if you'd like to. Where possible I've provided references to the initial responses, so be sure to look at the details of what someone is offering.

[And that's the main announcement. The second one he's still nervous about, even though he's been set on doing it for awhile, and it's part of the reason this is text; it's easier both to choose his words and not back out if it's through text.]

I'm also going to be taking a brief break from non-emergency counseling. This will only be for a few weeks, and if a situation is very pressing or serious I'm still available to meet; please don't hesitate to contact me, and don't second-guess yourself about whether it's serious enough to warrant doing so. The last thing I want is for someone who really needs help not to get it because I decided to take a vacation.

[And he really, really means this; the entire idea is making him nervous all over again about the decision to take a break, because if something happened to someone because he wasn't available to meet with them he's not sure he would forgive himself. But people here survived a long time without a psychologist around, right? Surely everything will be okay.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

now is perfect. get over here.

[Oh my god yes Lance please let Harlan feed you before magical flu? Jesus.]

Okay I'll be there in like fifteen minutes.

[And as promised, Lance is knocking on the door about fifteen minutes later. He definitely looks like he could use some tacos after the whole food shortage thing, and his hair has gotten long enough to go full curly and ridiculous, but otherwise he looks pretty upbeat.]

It's open.

[Messaging Lance telepathically is easier than yelling across the apartment, so that's what he's getting. The door is indeed open, and Harlan is busy in the kitchen. Making tacos. That will become leftovers eventually, so he didn't lie. They're almost done, anyway. He switches off the burner and pulls a pan of what smells like chicken and peppers and beans off of the heat.]

Hey. [...Oh boy, Lance. That hair.] Man, you definitely look like you could use a vacation.

[It's fortunate that he's outside and therefore Harlan can't see how Lance jumps in surprise at the mental communication, and then is torn between embarrassed and amused by his own reaction. But it does take him a moment to actually open the door and enter, so it might be apparent something distracted him.

Also wow, that smells really good, even if it means Harlan wasn't exactly accurate in his description of the situation. He so doesn't care right now, offering a small smile and a wave, then rolls his eyes a little in good humor at the comment.]

People keep using crashing plane metaphors in talking to me about taking my break, so I'm getting that impression, yeah.

[Does he really look that terrible?

...Probably.]

[Don't worry, Lance. He is too busy with tacos to hypothesize about the delay. Anyway, he snorts.]

Well, fuck, you said it, not me. How often do people actually come to you with shit they need help with? Were people really running you that ragged?

[He fishes some plates out of the cupboard. The noise is enough to rouse John Frusciante, now a full grown cat, who has been napping in Harlan's bedroom. She trots into the kitchen after a minute, beelining for Harlan before she realizes, oh, a guest. She stands up on her hind legs to sleepily stretch herself up Lance's pantleg. Hello please pet me.

Meanwhile, Harlan is plating up some tacos. Or, well, burritos? They're on tortillas. The terminology is irrelevant.]

You like spicy? I kept the hot shit separate just in case that's not your style. [He gestures at a bowl of presumably spicier peppers sitting off to the side.]

[Lance gives a small shrug at the question, but doesn't elaborate immediately; he's considering exactly how honest he wants to be, and eventually decides it's okay to tell pretty much the truth.]

I do meet with a lot of people, but it wasn't exactly... That wasn't exactly the problem. I just need to handle some problems of my own, and I can't do that while also providing counseling.

[He just doesn't have the time or energy for both, and it's gotten to the point where he can't put off dealing with his own issues any longer.

The appearance of the very cute cat--he wonders briefly when she got so big, then decides to just go with it--distracts him immediately from the more somber topic, and he carefully picks her up so he can scratch her ears as he answers the question.]

Thanks. I think a few would be good, just don't try to kill me with them.

[He can handle and likes a little spiciness but he's definitely not going to be doing the one chip challenge any time soon.]

[Oh. He pauses to look up at Lance mid-assembly.] Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't realize.

[He can sympathize to a certain degree. He tends to be the go-to problem solver in his circle, and that can be... Taxing, to put it lightly. And he's not even a medical professional helping out the masses and shit. Double good for Lance taking some time off for himself.]

I'm no psych, but let me know if you want a hand with that. [He'll leave that open-ended since he doesn't want to overstep.] Or if you want a distraction. I'm good for both.

[Case in point, he sets a plate of tacos with a non-lethal amount of peppers down at the table, since Lance is busy entertaining JF. For which Harlan is eternally grateful, by the way.

John Frusciante, meanwhile, is not about to lose this battle for Lance's attention. She mews and bonks her head against Lance, aiming for his face although her aim is questionable. Her coordination while airborne is not the greatest.]

Hey, did I run into you while we were kids? [Lance is on his own when it comes to wrestling with JF. Harlan is busy making himself a plate.] The memories are foggy, but I think I met a kid digging around in one of the shops. Kind of looked like you.

It's okay; I didn't expect you to.

[Especially since Lance does his best not to let anyone know if anything is off with him, so he actually feels a sense of accomplishment whenever he's successful at that. But he does appreciate the offer, and means it when he says--]

I'll keep that in mind, thank you.

[But speaking of distractions, the food smells amazing; even more distracting, though, is JF, and Lance barely dodges a headbutt to the chin but presses his forehead to hers briefly instead. He doesn't mind the wiggling or cat antics at all, having never had a chance to have a cat himself but being very fond of animals all the same.

The next question actually draws his attention away from petting JF, though, and it takes a moment for him to sort through his memories of the event--they're hazy, which is a little worrying--before placing which kid he didn't recognize the name of; everyone else he knows who was, so if Harlan really did meet him, them maybe it was him.]

It's possible, yeah, I spent a lot of time looking for stuff I think. Did you say your name was David?

[Maybe Harlan--or David--is a middle name, and he switched which one he went by as he got older?]

[Harlan nods, leaving it at that. He's not gonna press Lance for details. It's a standing offer. He finishes his taco construction and joins Lance at the table.

John Frusciante reaches for Lance's hand with her paws. Why did you stop paying attention to her???]

Same here. Apparently I raided a bunch of stores and amassed a pretty impressive candy stash. [He laughs. He's glad his kid self knew what was up.]

David was still my name at that age. I changed it when I was a teenager.

[Ugh JF is SO CUTE but food is calling and so he sets her gently on the floor again, turning his attention toward the tacos. He grins a little at the comment about collecting candy, because those are true kid priorities, though the answer to the question is a little surprising and definitely interesting.]

Can I ask why you changed it?

[Because he knows sometimes a name change can be very personal or have reasons behind it that someone doesn't want to share, so he won't be offended or anything if Harlan doesn't want to answer.]

[Ugh!!! It's okay, JF is used to be snubbed for tacos. She meows loudly in protest and briefly stands up on her hind legs to paw at Lance's chair, but eventually backs off and goes to beg at Harlan's chair instead. He ignores her with the practice of a cat dad who has put up with plenty of her shit.

Bless Lance for the careful question. Harlan doesn't mind talking about it, especially in Hadriel when all the gory details aren't one google away, but he appreciates the respect just the same.]

My mom was abusive. I didn't want her finding me after she got out of prison. As an added bonus, it stopped people from recognizing me as "that kid".

[There's obviously a lot more to the story, but his tone is casual enough. It's just facts.]

[That's... Not really the answer Lance was expecting, especially not so casually, so it takes a moment to really process even if the idea isn't particularly out-there or anything. But once it sinks in he has to decide how to reply, which is an issue of its own.

He chews on his lip a moment, debating whether to give the generic response or a more honest one, but he's opted for the latter so far here when someone tells him something like this; it's been working out so far, even if it's somewhat frightening every time.

Still, after a few seconds, he responds quietly.]

That makes sense. I thought about doing the same thing, not for... Exactly the same situation, but similar.

[The specifics are surely different, but general the issue of a particular individual potentially tracking him down after getting out of jail is one he understands very well. Lance supposes that's one good thing about being dead at home, at least; he's not going to have to worry about dealing with that after all.]

[Hm. That's not the response Harlan was expecting, either. He's glad that Lance doesn't make a big deal out of it (and didn't figure he would), but, oh, apparently Lance has some personal experience with this, too?

For now, he won't pry on the exact details, but he is gonna ask questions. Lance brought it up, so he's clearly down with talking about it on some level. If he's not, he'll tell Harlan to fuck off.]

No shit? Why didn't you?

[Harlan's right in that Lance wouldn't have brought it up if he weren't willing to talk at least a little, even if he'll avoid specifics. But the question is fair and easy enough to answer, although he avoids eye contact despite his tone being light and almost joking.]

I was kind of a spiteful kid. My name was something that was mine, and it was... Sort of just stubbornness, I guess.

[A way to say he wouldn't let what happened alter anything about him if he didn't have to, or something like that. Not that he's judging Harlan's decision or anything, it was just a symbolic, personal victory for Lance.]

[That gets a little laugh out of him.]

Hey, good for you. That's a good enough reason to keep it. "Lance" sounds cool, anyway.

[And Harlan fucking Halliday is all about cool names.]

I guess I ditched my old name for similar reasons if we're talking about the emotional side of things. My name wasn't mine, so... [He shrugs.] Bye.

[This isn't anywhere near as awkward as it could be, and so Lance is relaxing a little as the conversation goes on and manages a small smile.]

Thanks. And it means my girlfriend calls me Lancelot, which I can't exactly complain about.

[He nods in understanding at the rest of what Harlan says and it makes sense, especially presuming Harlan was originally named by his mother.]

You chose a pretty great name; nice alliteration, too. Did you just come up with it out of nowhere, or...?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

010 [Text]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject