Date: 2024-03-04 12:51 pm (UTC)
crisantemo: (everything's the same to me)
From: [personal profile] crisantemo
[ Too bad!!!

The bottle gets a glance when he opens the door, but she's quick to let herself in. Even if she's worried about him drinking that, hopefully she can stop him from getting too terribly drunk. ]


You do. We can maybe do that tomorrow, depending if you're still up for moving around. [ It's a gentle jab, like always, but her voice immediately softens; concern clear as she takes a look over her father figure. ]

... How are you feeling, Husk?

Date: 2024-03-05 09:12 pm (UTC)
crisantemo: (everything's the same to me)
From: [personal profile] crisantemo
I would vastly prefer you not in a coma, Old Man.

[ He slumps on the couch, and Lapis doesn't hesitate to sit next to him - there's still some space if he needs it, but it's also close enough that he can just. Slump on her if he wants to. ]

Yeah, I can see that. [ There's no dry humour to her tone though, only just a girl concerned for her father. ]

... Bringing him up was a low blow. [ But nothing is ever too far for Teresa, as vile as she is. ]

Date: 2024-03-06 11:11 pm (UTC)
crisantemo: (where did we go wrong)
From: [personal profile] crisantemo
[ Lapis is simply silent, as she listens to him. He plays at indifference, but she knows it's not - she knows just how badly Marlon's death eats him up, how badly he spirals because of it. Even though she's strong and she lived, she knows none of that makes up for what happened to him - for how the Order treated him.

And she lets him keep drinking, for the moment. She'll fuss and take the bottle off him later, but she'll let him have this for the moment. It's only when he leans nearer does she move as well, shifting close enough that her arm presses against his - a solid presence, amidst everything else. ]


Yeah, she's with Zhongli. [ The safest place to be, in this city. At least that's one good thing, amidst the giant mess that this is.

Part of her wonders if he thinks he's made mistakes in mentoring her. It's a thought that makes her heart sink, when it's only because of him that she isn't completely dead and hollowed out; maybe that's what the Order wanted, in the end. But she doesn't want to think about that.

So she hums again, eyes drifting over to that bottle. ]


Drinking yourself into a coma won't help either. [ Numbing himself to those feelings won't make them any less real. ]

... You know none of it is your fault, right. She said all of that just to get to you.