irl meetups & phone

[dissimulative]

Time to touch some grass.

There is nsfw in here. Shhh.

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[dissimulative]

... I guess that's a part of it.

[ Ugh. He feels so stupid admitting it, but he'll say it. ]

My ex had cystic fibrosis. One of the symptoms is that it makes their skin taste salty. That combined with the ocean, which is what I usually associate with him, was... a bit too much all of a sudden. I didn't think it would be that bad until it happened.

[insinning]

[Touching his mouth, frowning. Ah. That...that made sense]

I'm sorry. [Soft] It's been hard, hasn't it?

[dissimulative]

[ Was it? Oria experienced a certain kind of hell when his ex passed away, but he stayed strong and ignored the rumors because he knew they weren't true. He had to. He wasn't allowed to show weakness in front of people, because once he slips up, people would be on it immediately and tear him apart. He always played up his youth and what an 18-year-old boy was supposed to be, so his competition thought they could exploit that for their own gain. He always upturned it to their face and beat them at their own game. That was why he stayed on top and made it seem effortless. It's part of his image. That's who he's supposed to be. Fai saw through him about this, and his interactions with him have felt one-sidedly awkward ever since.

So, as it turns out, spending all his time into making that happen doesn't allow much time for anything else, like properly grieving for a loved one. He never enjoyed nor understood the appeal of taking pictures for the sake of memories. Memories are just things you remember and briskly walk away from. Move forward. That's all he can do. That's all he must do. Keep walking until you can't anymore. Keep your eyes on the future and make plans accordingly.

The past is a burden. ]

... I don't know.

[insinning]

[Of course it's been hard. Sinclair knows how much Oria has been carrying, how much Oria has had to put on a facade and keep going. He suspects Oria's never had a chance to just stop. And feel.

Feeling was the hardest part of it. He stares up at the ceiling, feeling an all too familiar ache]

...grieving for someone feels like fear, doesn't it? [Grief never leaves you. It changes shape, fitting into something you can eventually learn to live with. Oria felt too much, not to hurt, not to feel like he was bleeding with it] I didn't realise that, until recently. It's relentless. [He exhales softly] I never got to send off my family properly. Did you...?

[dissimulative]

[ There's a bit of silence, until there's a shaky sigh that sounds vaguely muffled. Oria is on his bed too, and honestly, he feels upset. He won't say it nor lash out, but he's upset. ]

... I wasn't allowed to go to his funeral. I'm not even permitted to be within a hundred feet from the graveyard that his grave is in.

[ There were rumors about how Oria Severine wasn't seen at the mayor's son's funeral, which only solidified the publics' opinion of how Oria really must have killed him. ]

[insinning]

[ Sinclair draws in a sharp breath. He's angry. Angry for Oria and every little thing these adults keep putting him through]

... then let's send them off together. Properly, the way they deserve. It doesn't have to be at their graves.

[ He can't go back home. He wont go back home, until he's ready.]

He liked the ocean, didn't he? We can do it there. The Twilight Shoreline.

[dissimulative]

... Okay. We can do it for your family too. Just... pick a time and tell me what we need for it. We can get ready.

[ ... ]

Thanks... for hearing me out.

[insinning]

Then...Paper. Candles.

[ He has ideas already. He's been thinking about this for a very long time. He exhales, soft, tired]

Does the 3rd work for you?

[dissimulative]

Mn. I shouldn't have anything planned. If I suddenly get plans, I'll let you know.

[ But that's unlikely, so. ]

[insinning]

Okay. We have time.

[ Sinclair will make time, no matter what. And:]

I love you.

[ He feels like he needs to say that again ]

[dissimulative]

I love you too.

[ He still feels a bit down, but what he says is genuine. ]

I don't think I'll log back in for the day and instead, probably smash some bowling pins out of the way.

[ He really has an entire bowling lane in his basement... ]

So I'll see you tomorrow.

[insinning]

Mm. I haven't decided yet but...I'll see you tomorrow.

[ He's tired, sore. But he doesn't want to be alone right now.

And then when the day comes]