hadriel | ♫ text

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[It's late when Harlan folds and decides to go to the network for a distraction. He would vastly prefer not to do this, but, well. That's why it's called folding.]

cant sleep.
tell me stories.

[ooc: feel free to threadjack and use this as a sort of storytelling free-for-all!]

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hey uh
are you okay?

my magics gone.

shit
i'm sorry
do you want me to come over?

[It takes him a few minutes to respond.]

are u ok?
be honest.

i can't see anything, and it sucks, but i'm dealing

[Okay, she's freaked out, but nowhere near how messed up she was when her magic was missing.]

shit k. ud kill urself tryin to navigate the stairs. dw abt it.
wait shit are u using text to voice? do i sound like a robot rn?
right now?
guess i should put effort into typing.

[Another long pause.]

i'm not gonna be much good in the comforting department tonight.
sorry.

i can teleport over
and it's okay
you don't have to comfort me
i can tell you shitty stories

if your sure.
no one tells better shitty stories than u.
lol.

[More pausing. This is becoming a thing.]

u should know what you're walking into.
death is just fucking made up here. i'm really struggling to think of a reason i shouldnt say fuck it and hope i stay dead long enough to ride out the event.
back home its easier to talk myself out of it because i've got shit going for me now. the guild. people that depend on me. w.e.
but wtf reason do i have here? i'll just come back.
i promised michael i wouldn't but short of that literally no fucking reason.
i dont know wh the fuck i promised that it was stupid.
don't tell michael.
its not a secret i'll tell him but let me do that don't tell him. please.

[Yeah, that's... not at all concerning to hear.]

i'm not going to tell him.
a big reason not to is that it would suck.
and i bet you'd regret it.
just hang tight until i get there, okay?

it wouldnt suck.
it wouldt be any different than the shit im already doing.
in fact itd be awesome bc i wouldnt be fucking freaking out constantly.
i wouldnt regret it bc it woudlnt change anything itd just be like fuckin
time travel
trust me ive thought abt this and u cant just fucking logic me out of it if i could do that i wouldnt need u to tell me not to do it.

[Okay, no logic-ing him out of it. Kyna doesn't respond, just teleports over, showing up square in the middle of Harlan's living room. She's staring off into the middle distance, utterly unable to see and with no idea where he is.]

Harlan?

[Her voice is raised, just in case he's in another section of the apartment. Hopefully he isn't right next to her.]

[Harlan spends a minute or two fretting when she doesn't immediately text back, but then he hears her in his living room. The sudden noise startles him. A warning would've been nice.

He's about to call out to her, let her come to him, but oh, right. She can't see.

He sighs. He'd prefer to stay in the bathroom. It's dark and secure and he's already cleared out all of the sharp shit. But Kyna being here will prevent him from doing anything destructive. He stands and shuffles out of the bathroom, making his way into the living room.]

Hey. [His voice is a little hoarse. He stands in the doorway for a moment, hesitating. He's not in the mood for physical contact, but, well. He moves toward her, getting just close enough to take her hand and lead her over to the couch. He lets go again once they're settled.]

Are you okay?

[Thank god for that. She would have tripped all over herself trying to follow his voice. For a second, she's tempted to reach for his hand again, but she fights the urge and lets him pull away, just focusing on the question instead.]

I'll get there.

[She's still a little freaked, but she's trying to ride it out, and it isn't quite as terrible when she's around other people. And besides, she's here for him, not for herself.]

Um... Are you?

No.

[There's no point in downplaying or trying to skirt the question. He's already told her what's up, what's at stake.

He leans back into the couch and picks at his pantleg. He's been trying his best to stop cutting, at least until the event is over. He can't heal himself. He keeps overdoing it. He has too many stitches in his legs as it is.]

I don't know how the fuck the gods can just take magic away. It's not supposed to work like that.

[She wrinkles her nose, considers reaching for his hand again, and decides not to. It's a good thing she has no idea what state his legs are in.]

I know.

[She gets it. Losing her magic was one of the worst things that's happened to her.]

Maybe it's not gone. Maybe it's just... blocked.

[Which is the same, functionally, but Kyna thinks that it being blocked is much better.]

It's gone.

[He says it definitively because it is definitive in his mind. It's mildly annoying, having to explain this to her. She went through this--or something like this. She should know.]

My focus doesn't even register anymore. Michael has it. I don't feel anything.

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cw: suicide

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cw: self harm

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