empathicfault | IC Inbox

An inmate lost all his memories in one fell swoop; that sound like something Avalon could do to you?

Not that I know of. I'm pretty sure they were only capable of reading my mind, not manipulating it. But I could be wrong on that front. Trying to understand them is like speaking to a mobius strip.

Which inma- oh, Neal? Damn.

You know him?

That's Malcolm's inmate. Haven't talked to him much, but I'd been planning on seeing him for some art lessons. Got caught up in the last flood and the port and...everything with Avalon, in between.

He's a good guy. Whoever did this, we're gonna fix it.

[There's a pause, and then--]

Huh.

We will. Malcolm will probably be ahead of us, but we can help.

What is it?

[There's a few minutes' pause before she answers.]

Apparently, this is just a... Barge thing that happens sometimes.

It is?

....I'm coming over. I'll bring Jet and Winston.

Is something wrong?

[Besides her, obviously, but that's a given!]

Yeah. Do you have anything cold to drink?

Beer, Coke. Milk.

Edited 2023-05-25 15:02 (UTC)

Pour us both a glass of coke? With ice, if you've got it.

[She doesn't respond. But she gives herself to the count of three, then pulls herself off of her mattress and does as requested, leaving the glasses of iced Coke on the counter before going to unlock the door. When he arrives, he'll find her collapsed on the bed again, face-down, fully dressed with her boots still on.]

[ Will speeds up a little at the lack of verbal response, only leashing Jet this time and heading quickly to her cabin. The dogs catch onto the energy and get a little excited, and since Will is keeping the audio connected, Shaw will hear some woofs on his way over.

He opens the door and lets the dogs in, first. Jet races to Shaw and jumps on the bed to sniff at her face on the pillow. Winston doesn't jump up, but puts his paws up so he can lick her hand. Will makes his way over to the counter for the Cokes. ]

Yep, you're doing about as well as I thought.

[Shaw wiggles her fingers, lightly rubbing Winston's nose; she also turns her head to the side to try to avoid any face-licks from Jet, though he gets a nice ear-scratch for his troubles. There is, again, a noticeable pause before she responds to Will.]

I'm fine, it's just... this place. Probably better for you not to see me like this, actually.

[She's not quite telling him to leave, but she's concerned all the same. She knows that if danger hit she'd be able to force herself out of this and concentrate on the matter at hand, and that too much downtime and space to think is her biggest enemy here - but she figures that it would be all too easy for someone else to look at her right now and see her as too broken to warden effectively. She needs Will's respect, she thinks, not his pity.]

I've been worse. You're responding, that's more than I expected.

[ He's not leaving, not unless she orders him to. For Will, his respect isn't earned through seeming put-together, not even through not falling apart. His respect is earned with cleverness and kindness and determination, and Shaw's had it for a while now.

He brings both glasses over to her bed and sits on the floor, cross-legged next to Winston. ]

Let me know when you can sit up. The dogs'll get out of your way.

Graham--

[There's a warning edge to her tone, though still based on concern for him, not anger towards him. But then she isn't sure how to follow that up, so she just sighs heavily and hauls herself into a half-seated position, her eyes glassy and focused on the floor rather than on him.]

You were concerned about Neal. Do you want to see...?

[She gestures vaguely at her communicator, lying on the mattress near her elbow and open to the post in question.]

Will raises his eyebrows at her tone, but it's questioning rather than challenging. She doesn't say anything beyond that, though, and he nods when she offers to let him see. He takes the tablet, but before he starts reading, he holds out one of the glasses. ]

Thanks. Hold this? Just...to feel the cold and condensation. Maybe drink some if you can.

[ He might be pushing too hard, but it helps him when he's drifting. Regardless how she reacts (he'll accept whatever), he'll start reading, and snickers at the term 'free-range assholes'. ]

This place is a mess.

[Is her sum-up of the memory situation. She takes the glass, staring into it listlessly. ]

He might be okay, though. You know how Malcolm's taking it?

[ Yeah, reading further into the post gives Will the needed context on just how bad the situation is. Sometimes people just lose all memory of this place, huh? Awesome. Great. He lets out a small sigh. ]

No. I haven't tried to contact him yet. I'm sure he's still in the middle of trying to handle it. Neal sounded...almost aggressive, in his post. Some time had passed, I think.

[ Will takes a sip of his own drink and rubs his chin, reading through the rest. ]

-wait, people are still missing memories from the flood?

Guess so.

[She feels the anxiety as a sharp ache in her stomach, and she takes a little sip of her own Coke, then sets the cup on the floor. Settling back down on her mattress, she curls onto her side, idly stroking whichever dog is nearest to hand.]

You think you're missing anything still?

I-

[ He swallows his own anxiety down, realizing suddenly that he's really not helping right now. He shakes his head. ]

If I do, I don't think it's anything important. There's no noticeable gaps, no changes in behavior. So- probably just whatever Hannibal smudged out of my brain.

[ The dogs, at least, are doing their part. Winston has gotten up on the bed to settle next to Shaw, being the Dog to Pet for the moment. Jet looks happy enough to lean against her leg. ]

You okay.

[She asks it dully, but she rolls over a little so that she can scan her eyes over his face.]

I'm okay.

[ He looks her in the eye, letting her scan him. He doesn't want to make it harder on her to do her job, especially while she's rather disconnected. He really is all right, just mildly concerned. ]

Just...surprised. Afte all the times I'd heard that floods set everything right when they were done...

[ He rolls his eyes. ]

Makes me glad I went through so much effort to sort it out, though.

Everybody does say floods are supposed to do that. Kinda makes me wonder if someone's messing with this guy and using the flood as a smokescreen. To be honest--

[She pauses, flexing her fingers.]

I'd prefer that to the alternative.

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