lucetilogs | Post-Event Reaction Log!

[His back his tense and it probably registers under her palm, as he drops his forehead into his hands and is temporarily unsure about everything in his not!life. But it just takes a shake of his head, a motion backward of his shoulders as he works them, and he's trying to shake it all off.

Of course, when he stands up, he nearly reels sideways until his hand catches the corner of the bar.]

Alright. [He manages, face downcast for a moment toward the floor as he leans heavily against the table, and then he sits back up, eyes shut. Leans his head back. Breathes. A nod.] Alright.

Edited 2012-04-12 03:45 (UTC)

[When he works his shoulders Adele removes her hand, watching. Waiting. For an explosion or implosion.

...

Apparently they were going to go with implosion. Good, she was more familiar with those anyway. She finishes her beer and sets the empty bottle on the bar, standing along with Doyle. When he staggers, she catches darts in, catching his elbow. Not that he needed it.]

Rick...

[She waits. Not much else to do, not really, her hand still on his elbow. The other on his bicep, previously wounded, now healed.]

You are able to stand on your own, yes? The rest I can manage.

[He's distant, but he nods, eyes half-lidded. He at least doesn't want to have Adele deal with his entire weight, so he's determined to walk in a decently straight line. Still.... He would laugh at the role-reversal from his first day, if the situation had been different.]

...

Sorry.

[spoken lowly, but it's not without sentiments. He admits, clearing his throat,]

I don't know what the fuck I'm doing today.

[She manages to slide an arm around his ribs and get a shoulder under his arm, supporting him with minimal awkwardness. He was sturdy, heavy, thicker than he'd been the week before but, she's hefted heavier and bulkier men before. Not easily, and not quickly, but it's not entirely unfamiliar.]

It's no trouble.

[Something Adele's been saying a lot lately. The role reversal wasn't an issue, even if she could find it amusing. Later, they might laugh about it. Tonight? She's just guiding him out, heading for his apartment.]

Rule number two. Remember?

[She gives him an awkward squeeze as they walk.]

Coping. Not the best way, but. Coping.

M'still supposed to be cooler than this. [He says it with at least some sort of sad humor, stumbling a little before he quickly regains his balance. There's shame seeping across his features at the thought that he needs to be escorted home after nearly falling apart. Dammit all.] Not like this is the first crazy thing that's happened to me.

[He closes his eyes for just a moment, letting her and his feet move him blindly.]

Not very good at coping, I think.

[Coping with dying, waking up as a prisoner in a world where magical things exist, believing he was in a murder-spree-type game in a dark awful world full of oppression?

COPING CENTRAL.]

No...but it might just be the worst crazy thing that you can stand at the moment. There's no shame it in- everyone has a breaking point. At least you broke quietly.

[She huffs a soft laugh and shifts her grip on his ribs, steadying him as best as she can. As slight as she is and with the height difference, it's a little difficult. But as long as he can hold himself upright, they'll be fine.]

You need a different way of coping. This...it is temporary, and destructive. It hurts more than it helps. I would rather not have to replace your liver while you are here Sw- Rick.

[How many more of those will she endure before her head's all hers once more? All the little ticks and tricks Levarre used, why is it that these are what remain?]

We'll find something.

[He laughs, but there's something unfortunately sad about it.]

I don't know many ways of coping. The only way I did back home was throwing myself into the next mission so I didn't have time to think about any of it.

[shakes his head; there's a lot on his mind. He mumbles at the night, his gaze on the earth, trying his best to keep his own weight from wobbling on his feet.]

That's the way you cope, isn't it? Filling up your schedule, throwin' yourself into the next event or job, hoping it'll get your mind off whatever clings to ya' like the fuckin' plague?

The good news is that you are well enough, physically, to volunteer for missions from the Malnosso. I would not recommend it, not if you are still in this mental state, however. Working yourself to exhaustion is also a temporary fix.

[Doyle's arm across her shoulders is heavy, her grip on him half certain at best. But he holds his own weight for the most part and she mulls over how much she can say, how much would actually help. As it is she knows there is terribly little she can offer.]

Purpose helps. Finding one, a new one, here. Or...dealing with that which you would rather ignore. It is difficult and time consuming, and I know I am nowhere near finished sorting everything in my own mind out- but. I am better for it. Whenever you're of a mind, That might be the better path for you.

Working myself to exhaustion is a thing for me. I'm really good at it.

[He rolls his eyes, not at her, but at the thought that he really isn't joking on that. Still... He's having a hard time replying to the rest of that, because... well. Purpose. Deep stuff. It's a lot to even try to think about. Exasperatedly —]

I might even be able to sleep for once.

There are better ways to relax enough to find rest, Doyle. And I am not going to prescribe you anything- you don't need it. And...please do not make a habit of this.

[She's attempting to tease, but. It was a very real possibility. Something she never wanted to have to watch happen again. Perhaps it would just be this once, and he'd be fine. But Adele knows it won't be that simple.]

Roger that, ma'am... [Stumble—"sorry"—adjust] I'll try not to fuck up this operation this time, promise. Letting more people down's not something I would look f'ward to.

[Adele stumbles half a step, braces against Doyle, and waits for him to regain a steady pace.]

There's nothing to fuck up Rick. Not right now. All you need to focus on right now is getting to your apartment...and on that note. Where is it you live?

There's always something to fuck up; I'm fucking up the proper way of walking, aren't I? [but he gives in for the moment] Community Housing 7... Jus' get me to the door, I'll figure out the rest.

Edited 2012-04-17 04:32 (UTC)

One foot goes in front of the other. I think you have managed that well enough.

[She shifts her grip on him again and blinks. Seven. That was...not a terribly long walk from here.]

I'm not leaving you until you're asleep, Rick. Rule number 2.

Goddammit, Adele, [it's a low, extremely tired grumble, exasperated more than anything else] Rule number 2 can be suspended for a few seconds, can't it? I can do it...

Simply because you can do something on your own doesn't mean that you should have to. I'm pulling the 'attending physician' card as well, here.

[Not that there was any real reason for her to pull it; he was intoxicated, nothing more. She was allowed to worry, though.]

Being drunk isn't a physical ailment physicians treat, you damn cheater. [He rolls his eyes.] I don't hafta' be an infinite patient for you, do I?

How much did you drink, Rick?

[...

His stomach does a painful flop, and he finally replies honestly,]

Ah'fuckin' lot.

[There, it's a good answer, okay. He's not on meds, THIS ISN'T IMPORTANT.]

...

[She sighs and shakes her head, continuing to lead him back to community house 7.]

I can't say much, honestly. I've done the same at least twice before- but I did not have anyone with the sense to tell me to quit. You do.

[He's quiet at that—a despondent look about him. But he's there, still, at least. His shoulders are sagged like a person who wants to just... give up, for this one night.] I was just someone else for a whole week; could we avoid the lecturing until tomorrow, when I'm hungover and regretful?

[He's welcome to sag as much as he likes. Adele can bear the weight. She's carried heavier burdens for longer than this without comment, question, or complaint. Bearing Rick is no trouble. It would never be.]

I am not...lecturing. I am saying I've been...here. Before. And that I understand. I'm saying I'm not in a place to lecture. I won't. It's not what you need to hear, at any rate.

[He almost wants to say 'I'm too drunk, you gotta be clear on these things'. But. Well, he's too busy suddenly feeling sick to reply; he's silent for a while, letting the cool night air give him some semblance of comfort.

There's nothing to say.

He's too stubborn to tell anyone why he's even drunk to begin with, too conditioned to just shove his problems off to the side. He thinks that once he's alone in his bed, he can stew in his dreams and thoughts, but right now? There's nothing to him. Not in front of anyone, not even the doctor.

It's not important. He'll get over it. Fuck it all; it's nothing he couldn't handle.

It's easy peasy.

Tomorrow he'd return to his snarky humored self. He'll pretend this night didn't happen. That's all there is to it.]

[Adele makes the remainder of their walk in silence, letting Doyle stew in his thoughts, or not, as he willed. She focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, steering this man to Community House seven. Whatever his thoughts, whatever his demons, they weren't hers to know.

She'll be satisfied with getting him abed without a second vampire attack. That would be their luck, to have another run in with Drusilla. Adele shakes that thought off and grunts, helping Doyle up the stairs. Blank as he was the motion wasn't entirely unlike helping a limp body move against it's will.

It was enough to make her grumble a low stream of curses until they hit the door.]

Rick. Which room is yours?

[So help her if he's above the fourth floor, she might just find the nearest empty room and dump him there.]

[He nods his head toward a nearby door. At least he's not drunk enough to forget that much.]

Just right here.

[He remembers for a moment that he can, in fact, stand on his two feet. So he uses the wall as a crutch and tries lamely to break off from Adele.]

I'm tellin' you, I got this part...

(HOW DARE YOU /punts out of dreamwidth)

(I'm SORRY /flees sobbing into the night.)

(just as planned)

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