opportunitycosts: (• but somehow you always find me)
Alvin ([personal profile] opportunitycosts) wrote2018-04-15 11:10 pm

[ empatheias ] message box

Alvin will have acquired his own little carrier pigeon to send messages, so he'll have one stationed at the main carrier pigeon place that will come and find him.

In the meanwhile, this is the entry for any private messages that are delivered via the carrier pigeon system.

[personal profile] gottacatch 2015-10-21 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He absolutely, absolutely does not want to talk about it. Or anything else for that matter, but his feet can agree to walk after a small silence where he does and says nothing, his mind wishing he were somewhere else but there.

Which is exactly what walking helps to achieve, actually. It doesn't stop his heart from feeling like a foreign organ in his chest, and the pokéballs around his waist have begun to shiver under the hems of his sweater. Red goes to pluck off from his belt, not really waiting for Alvin in any manner but not rushing to get out either, but stops himself after remembering what he just did to that crate, and--no, it's likely dangerous enough.

But it doesn't cease waves coming from each one (nearly each one), different sets of emotions mingling and trying to influence his own. A hot defensive anger, a gleeful and sinister excitement; confusion torn between action and upset and a cool ice wanting to placate all the rest like an ocean during a storm stuck between its own calm and upset. He swallows hard against it, distracting him from what Alvin said, heard but not acknowledged.

(Alvin just says a lot of things. What a funny guy, that Alvin. He should really just stop.) ]


Actually, I think we should do this another day. [ It's said once they're both present outside the restaurant, Red's hands going to the back of his neck, elbows out. ] I didn't know I would freak out like that! It wasn't so bad yesterday... I'll have to get a hang on it!

[ It's public, but how much better that the closest around him are things already broken, cracks already formed. ]

Hey, if you want, those drinks-- [ He brings his arms down, but turns his head away. ] You can tell me how much they cost. I'll get you the money, okay? I won't forget, so you should tell me.

[personal profile] gottacatch 2015-10-22 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ah, he's actually too good at this adult thing, using his name to hush him. It's a silence that lingers on a little longer after Alvin's done too, his hands having found each other and a thumb rubbing at the ash covering his palms, sometimes pausing to just sit and press into his skin.

He's trying to think, but it's hard to do that with the pressure of the topic and the noise and people of the city so obviously present. Shoulders still hard yet arms like jelly--


--What did Alvin even say, again?

No, he's sure he remembers the general gist of it. It's only been a few seconds. Don't keep it to yourself, don't self-destruct... ]


I won't-- [ .... ] I can't keep it to myself. That's not going to work. People know.

[ One more than Red had figured would. His fingers curls in and trap his thumb, and he moves them closer to himself. Out of sight. ]

But there's things I have to figure out for myself too. You know. I have to... I can't avoid it, and I can't just think about it all day either. [ That's a sure way to upset the emotional balance of the land. ] I have my pokémon to think about too. They... I'm not the only one.

[ His lips tighten together, eyes even tighter, in a long moment when his heart drops further than he could've anticipated. All this time he was trying to explain himself, but it was all a fumbling mess once it reached his own ears. Nothing sounds convincing, and it makes it difficult to just drop it right there.

So he inhales through his nose again. Takes a moment. Goes in as evenly as he can manage, and clearly stressed: ]


We need time.

[personal profile] gottacatch 2015-10-26 07:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ Should he?

Red doesn't know, and for a while it has nothing to do with the question itself. They both know what they're talking about, but throw in the words 'killed you' in a way that can't be mistaken and it's too raw and personal. If he doesn't answer, then he doesn't have to....

...he doesn't know. Alvin's not about to forget his own question, and it's not going to magically mean it wasn't asked. Still, there's a fight at the back of his throat between the options of keeping his mouth sealed and just getting this over with. He's already doing the first without any satisfaction, and getting it over can be done with a single word, a few more at most.

Fine. ]


...No. I don't. [ And, in case a why comes, when one shouldn't come at all given by the sharp now in his voice: ] It's not important to me.

[personal profile] gottacatch 2015-10-28 01:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ No.

No, no no nono
-- ]


Don't- [ It's a plea that sticks to Red's throat, trapped between the sudden spike of adrenaline, alarms going off in his head and the larger intake of air.

He's talking, why is he talking. ]
Alvin--

[personal profile] gottacatch 2015-10-28 01:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ he



he has to stop it. ]


Shut-- shut up! Shut up, stop it- no!

[ Not interrupted, not without Red's voice rising above his and all attempts at poor façades fall, and a swift kick aimed to one of Alvin's shins when his mind calculates as quick that he's not going to very well reach the man's face in a more satisfactory manner. He's not trained, it could miss, but the attempt is still there before he's screaming at him again, caring no more about anyone nearby or the emotion boiling up yet freezing and melt his own hold over his limbs. ]

I told you! I said no! [ His face is getting hotter, his breathing thicker, suffocating--and when he pulls back his head to with he feet stumbling back, noise stutters and breaks as he inhales.

He trusted him. He trusted him not to-- ]


Why--why? [ They might've not been close, there wasn't reason for him to trust the man; maybe it was his own fault. But it hurts all the same, and why--why was very well in whatever Alvin was saying, what Red already knew. How couldn't he already know from the moment he started asking about working with Ludger, bringing up about his death.

But it's not a why Red's waiting for an answer to, strained and cracked in its delivery, and all the swelling that'd been building in his stomach spills up and out, his sight blurring, his movements as he turns away hard to steer as he walks. Still repeating the question as mumbling just to fill his own ears. He doesn't want to hear why, he doesn't want to hear another word.

He just wants to get away from him, everyone, everything, now, the air thinning around him, the ground softening beneath his feet and his chest heaving. ]