irl meetups & phone

[dissimulative]

Time to touch some grass.

There is nsfw in here. Shhh.

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[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]