silberfuchs | Appointments/Voicemail

[He'd been at the bar far longer than his conversation with Molotov had lasted. He stayed until he'd started to get so fuzzy in the head that the floor seemed too far away to reach. That seemed like a good time to call it a night and head back to the second floor.

Once he was on his feet again, he didn't have too much trouble reaching the elevator and then it was just a matter of seeing the numbers on the display. He counted two in and pressed that, leaning against the rail in the box as it headed up.

Once he'd stepped out, he poked his head into the suite he shared with Albert. The bed seemed inviting, but the warmth of the German seemed more so. Luckily, he was only a few stumbled steps away in the communal kitchen. Jet took advantage of the other man's back being turned to come up behind him and wrap his arms around Albert's waist while he pressed his cheek to one shoulder.]

Hey...what'cha up to?

Edited 2014-08-04 05:17 (UTC)

[As much as Kevin and the footage from the end of the last arena had gotten to Albert, he's been trying to ignore it ever happened since the crowning. The mini arena helped but not much, drowning alongside his partner when really they should have been standing at an alter saying their vows if their media scheme had worked. Even so, as upset as Albert is internally, the last thing he wants to do is let that boil over and bleed into Jet to make him worry, so he's played things close to the vest and things had gone on with relative normalcy.

Until now.

Jet rarely drinks to excess and Albert is closely familiar with why that is, so to have his partner drunkenly drape himself all over the German leaves Albert immediately wondering what's wrong. And then immediately asking himself what isn't wrong.

With a small, patient sigh he turns his head to press a light kiss into Jet's temple.]

Peeling potatoes. You?

Edited 2014-08-04 05:46 (UTC)

...Wonderin' when everything got so bright.

[Maybe it was just him, but all of the lights seemed too bright and seemed to bounce off the walls and appliances. He turned to kiss Albert back and his lips found the German's cheek. Oh well.

Jet buried his face in Albert's shoulder a moment longer but then pulled away to find a seat at the kitchen's bar. After a moment of contemplating the seats.

Maybe he was drunker than he thought.]

I think I drank too much, Al.

Mmm.

[It's little more than a grunt, but in action Albert sets down the food he was making and goes to take Jet's arm.]

Come along, let's get you into bed.

[Jet seemed to think about it for a moment but then shook his head...only that was a bad idea. He pressed a palm to his temple till his brain stopped spinning then got back to his feet to follow Albert.]

You were making something, though. I could just lay on the couch till you're done.

[He didn't really care so long as 1) Albert was near and 2) he was horizontal.]

[Another so very patient sigh and Albert shakes his head.]

No, it's alright. The automatic food is better anyway.

[He half leads half drags Jet towards the bedroom. He'd mostly been cooking as a form of nostalgia, missing his old team, their family, but this member of his family here now - the one dearest to his heart - needs help and he'll drop everything to tend to Jet.]

I'll get you some water in a moment. How much did you drink?

[Jet follows him as best he can with his compromised balance and doesn't try to argue with Albert about the food. He didn't really care.

He didn't actually answer his partner until he'd found a seat on the mattress. He shrugged, sluggish mind trying to dredge up an answer.]

Dunno. Had a few drinks with this chick--who's got the worst name in the world--then had a few more. I don't remember.

[He winced as his own words filtered through his head.]

Too many. Sorry.

It's alright. I'm not surprised, considering. As long as it's not a habit.

[He gets Jet laying down, wondering if it was Molotov that he spoke to and deciding that it must be. A few minutes later and he's back with a glass of water and something akin to saltine crackers.]

Drink this. You don't have to eat the crackers if you don't want them, you just have to finish the water glass.

[Jet shakes his head and sits up a bit when Albert comes back. He's pretty sure Albert's well aware it would never be a habit, but he answers anyway.]

No. And if it does, I've already told you what you should do with me.

[Push him off a roof that doesn't have a forcefield. At least, he was pretty sure that was what he'd said, maybe it wasn't quite that. But it still applied.

Either way, he reached for the water and drank down nearly half of it in one go before sitting up all the way so his legs were crossed and setting the glass down on the bedside table.

Without looking up at the German (the light would be too bright if he did that) he reached up and tugged on his partner's shirt to get him to sit down. He snagged the crackers too while he was at it. Might as well try and eat something to absorb this shit.]

[Albert grunts, but there's no way he'll actually kill Jet for something like that. Get him help, yes. Forbid him ever drink again, yes. But nothing more drastic and he's certain Jet knows this.

He's about to go get Jet a hairband in case his body decides to dispel all the American had ingested - it'd make things a little less messy, anyway - but instead he's tugged into sitting next to his fiance on the bed. With yet another small sigh, he runs a hand through that blond hair.]

Was it the arena or something else?

[There could be any number of things to cause Jet to overindulge. Albert wants to know which demon he's dealing with.]

The arena.

[He rested his head on his partner's shoulder, one of his hands finding a tight grip on the other man.]

The arenas.

[His voice got quieter.]

I'm tired. I can't keep watching you die, Al. I'm afraid you won't come back when I wake up.

[But it wasn't just that. Maybe if there weren't alcohol running through his system, he'd keep his mouth shut and keep his fears to himself. He was supposed to be strong for his partner and keep supporting him so Jet wouldn't lose him again. Wouldn't lose him like he'd almost lost him on Valhalla. But with his two biggest fears seeming to constantly hang over his head, it was hard not to think about them.]

...I'm afraid that something they do'll be too much--like those zombies or whatever they were--and I won't be able to help anymore. You'll pull away from me. You'll go where I can't follow.

[He could take care of Albert all he wanted, protect him, do everything in his power, but if that darkness won out, there wouldn't be anything Jet could do to keep the man he loved with him. And that scared him more than his partner dying. Dying Jet could do.]

[At first, Albert thought it was Jet feeling how he'd felt all these years, having to stand aside and watch the American greet death more than once, hating himself for not stopping it, for not protecting the person he cared for most, and that he can relate to all too easily.

But it's not the same monster, not entirely. What Jet's talking about is something he's thankfully (and miraculously, given his history) never experienced. Something that's plagued Albert for so many years and rears its ugly head suddenly when things become too much. It closes in, blocks out the light, and leaves him in utter and complete darkness. Jet may not completely understand it, but somehow he's always been the one to shine through. Albert lives in fear of a day when it doesn't work.

Jet apparently does too.]

I'm sorry...

[What else does he say? He's silent for a long moment trying to figure it out, filling the silence with shifting so he can hold his fiance close.]

I know it's difficult. If there was some cure, I would take it in a heartbeat, but what I can promise you is this.

[He fills Jet's hands with his own, looking his inebriated partner in the eyes white to blue.]

If I feel that I'm slipping, I'll tell you before it happens. I promise I'll do everything I can to hold on.

[He squeezes Jet's hand, the metal of the blond's ring digging into the gap between his fingers.]

It's easier with something to live for.

Edited 2014-08-06 19:20 (UTC)

[Oddly enough, that helped. Maybe it was Albert looking right at him so Jet knew it was the truth, maybe it was that squeeze of his hands, but he did feel honestly better for it.

He straightened up and leaned their foreheads together, nodding slightly.]

Okay. I'm holding you to that.

[Maybe, as long as he had warning, he could fight off those demons tooth and nail.]

I'll always fight for you. Even if that's forever.

[Because just as Jet may be worth living for, Albert was worth fighting for.]

[That, in turn, makes Albert feel safe somehow. That Jet will keep fighting for him against any odds, against his own demons. And the way his partner says it makes it sound possible for him to win.

Albert's eyes fall shut, just feeling Jet's forehead against his own comfortably as he holds the blond close.]

We'll make it through this. Together.

HOMIE. i'm at to be frank with you. SLAP THAT SHIT ON ONE OF THEM HUMAN MOTHERFUCKING NAME MARKED RECTANGLES. you're soft as fuck. I SAY THIS AS WITH WHAT FONDNESS I GOT IN ME, THE LOT OF ALL YOU MOTHERFUCKERS IS MOTHERFUCKING SOFT AND THE FACT YOU THOUGHT ON OTHERWISE MAKES ME THINK YOU WAS BEING REAL FOOLISH OR IN MOTHERFUCKING DENIAL. do some tours on alternia and be back at to me then. BUT I'M MEANING, CONSIDER THAT UP IN FUTURES, YO. should know you.

I WISH YOU'D STAYED. but i also got about wishing me this war was over. YOU KNOW, BROTHER, I AIN'T EVEN KNOW WHAT PEACE ALL LOOKS AT LIKE. have you ever tried on imagining a sense what you ain't have? ONLY HEAR AND LEARN BY WHAT OTHERS MOTHERFUCKING TELL AT TO ME. still want though. SO I GUESS I GOT AGREEMENTS, SOME RISKS IS WORTH.

been trying to figure out how to live as like this. AIN'T NOT FIGURED IT OUT YET. cleaning? PAINTING? wish i could preach, truth said. AIN'T NO ONE HERE FAITHFUL BUT WE COULD USE ON A LITTLE FAITH. they could use a leader too. I AIN'T FEEL SO FIT AS I USED TO. my hands was always so dirty, but i ain't able to ignore it so. AIN'T GOT THE VOICE NONE ANYWAY. looking at my brother, my sam, thinking he may be what's got it.

ANGER FEELS FOOLISH. yet it is what i feel. HE IS STRONGER, STURDIER, BETTER TO LAST. but he is hurt. BARELY LEFT HIS SIDE HAVE I. never wanted so bad to hold fear in such a way as to abate it. IF WHAT I UP AND UNDERSTAND BE TRUE, HE'LL PERSIST AS YOU MADE AT TO SAY YOU DO. know my care for him and you also when i speak thusly. THIS AIN'T A LIFE WHAT YOUR BLOOD OUGHT LIVE OR ANY FOR THAT MOTHERFUCKING MATTER. time is a cruel mistress. BUT IT AIN'T ALL THAT. i can see it. FEELS OWNED. feels like what ought be a beautiful thing for him, getting his wings, is at to be a daymare. THEY STRIPPED HIM DOWN. and i wasn't there.

I'VE MY BELIEVING THAT SAM WILL HEAL AND ADAPT. but i fear it's hindrance here. THINGS ARE NOT AS THEY OUGHT TO BE. i've seen this sort in my inquisition days. THE HIGH STREWN OUT AND LEFT TO PAY FOR THE CRIMES OF ALL. foolish rebels as thought their figurehead preached anything other than peace. I HAVE KNOWN PORRIM MARYAM TO SUFFER IN TOO MANY LIVES NOW. i do not doubt we've not met the end to this.

WE ARE, NEVERTHEMOTHERFUCKINGLESS, MAKING SAFE AS WELL AS CAN BE DONE. we are survivors, for better or worse. I AM SORRY TO PERHAPS ADD TO FEARS, YET I COULD NOT FIND THE WILL FOR DISHONESTY.

i understand as like both our matesprit saw to the president's will. I'VE WORRY FOR JET. watch him. AND DO NOT MOTHERFUCKING FORGET AS ALL TO WATCH YOU. may messiahs see to us and ours.

-THE INITIATE FRAYSONG ♑

Appointments/Voicemail

/breaks this new post in | Post mini-arena, after Jet talks with Molotov

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(A LETTER THAT I WROTE LAST BREAKOUT BUT FORGOT TO SEND IN RESPONSE TO THE FIRST LETTER)