[he wants her to keep talking to him, but he also -- doesn't know what to say. he ends up going with his gut, gives her an option she doesn't usually have when they're face to face]
[he's not sure what he's expecting when comes back to 004, but it isn't what he finds when he opens the door. it's like some wild animal got in; it's like some centralized hurricane that brewed in their quaint living room. "bad enough," was kind of an understatement]
[a sick feeling crawls up his throat, as his shoe crunches against glass, just as Nill warned him; violation]
[ the oddly soft trill of the alarm is still going strong, but underneath that there's also the sound of a shuffling scrape - from the kitchen, by the sounds of it. having heard him, she pushes the rest of the shattered scraps of plate from her most recent pile into the dustpan, stands with it to walk until she's in view.
it's an entirely unenthusiastic wave. not because she isn't pleased to see him, but. well. enthusiasm would be a bit out of place here, surrounded by the debris of her illusions of sanctuary, wouldn't it? ]
[Magnus certainly doesn't expect a handstand, and unlike the other times he's come home, he doesn't sign to her. his arms feel weighty and dead at his sides, hands curling into fists to keep his undead blood flowing]
[he asks it carefully, walking over to the hall closet for a broom, because the destruction of the room is enough dramatics for the moment;]
[ a bland shake of her head is his answer, and she doesn't wait to see if he's seen it. turns slowly to drift back off into the kitchen, the sound of the bin lid popping up and plate shards falling in the next breaker of the silence.
a couple of scratches from picking up things she shouldn't, maybe, but she's fine. will be fine.
as it is, it's taking a very active effort on her part to keep the broil of her emotions from projecting, courtesy of the porter, out into something tangible. not that there's a lot of point. the resulting absence of her usual willingness to put on a smile for anyone, any time, is evidence enough. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Not yet. That's a good point, I'll do that soon
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do you want to talk about it?
no subject
I thought I sent this 3 hours ago
[ok. he doesn't want to make her keep talking, then]
back to the house in 10-15. see you soon.
you went too hard
Be careful when you step in there is glass
text > action
[he's not sure what he's expecting when comes back to 004, but it isn't what he finds when he opens the door. it's like some wild animal got in; it's like some centralized hurricane that brewed in their quaint living room. "bad enough," was kind of an understatement]
[a sick feeling crawls up his throat, as his shoe crunches against glass, just as Nill warned him; violation]
Nill? I'm back.
Re: text > action
it's an entirely unenthusiastic wave. not because she isn't pleased to see him, but. well. enthusiasm would be a bit out of place here, surrounded by the debris of her illusions of sanctuary, wouldn't it? ]
Re: text > action
[he asks it carefully, walking over to the hall closet for a broom, because the destruction of the room is enough dramatics for the moment;]
You're not hurt or anything, right?
Re: text > action
a couple of scratches from picking up things she shouldn't, maybe, but she's fine. will be fine.
as it is, it's taking a very active effort on her part to keep the broil of her emotions from projecting, courtesy of the porter, out into something tangible. not that there's a lot of point. the resulting absence of her usual willingness to put on a smile for anyone, any time, is evidence enough. ]