IC Inbox

[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

BZZZZZZZ

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Comments

[betacuck]

their heart is dying

[ That sounds so fucking stupid. It sounds like a joke. Roman knows it does, except he's not joking, he's serious, and yeah, maybe spiraling a little bit. There's a pause in activity as he flings his phone out of frustration straight at the wall and almost immediately rushes to pick it up, proceeded by an actual audio call instead of text. ]

Flint left and Raylan's so fucked up about it and I don't know what to do.

[littletonoidea]

what

[Okay Roman's calling him, that makes the entire scenario a bit easier to understand.]

Hey hey, deep breaths Rome Service. Is Raylan still breathing or is it just like, emotionally fucked up?

[betacuck]

He's breathing, you fucking moron. [ It comes out more hostile than Roman intends: frustration's easy to take out on someone else, and treating people like shit is Roman's default to begin with. He has just enough werewithall to catch himself, though, and there's a noise on the other end that sounds like a pained groan. ]

Fuck--uh--sorry, no I just. Shit. His husband left, or graduated, or fucking--I don't know, slipped and died on the poop deck or some shit--and he's not taking it well.

Like you and Kendall not taking it well.

[littletonoidea]

Hey.

[It comes quick after the insult, defensive and offended, but when Roman apologises he settles immediately. He can only imagine how stressed he's gotta be right now, and he can definitely take mercy on that.]

It's okay, Rome. [Well, it's objectively not, with a description like that, but still.] What's his room, I can come by and help.

[betacuck]

Eight-oh-seven.

[ There's a definitive sound of Roman breathing out, actively trying to calm himself down before he has the wherewithall to ask: ]

Are you sure? He's not unconscious and I think Kiryu's getting him to bed, and you're, like.... [ Also an alcoholic and might be triggered, is what he wants to say. He just winds up trailing off instead. ]

[littletonoidea]

I'll be fine.

[But he sounds genuinely kind of touched, that Roman's actually worried about him even in the middle of a full-blown freak out.]

But you sound like you could use a distraction, and the Marshall's gonna need some killer hangover cures come morning. I can come keep the pair of you from going loco in the pina colada.

[betacuck]

...Yeah.

[ Yeah, just like that. Someone's offered to help be... what? Moral support? What the fuck is that? He should probably rebuff it. Be the big dog, the tough guy. Handle it on his own like a Roy. Like his father would want. His father would be fucking livid he was here in the first place, or even worse, disappointed, and Roman tries to stop that train of thought before the thought of the Silly Mirror comes up. He clears his throat, groaning again. ]

Um... Thanks. I guess. Fuck you. I mean--no, I mean, yeah. Thanks.