I really am. even now in between I'm still thinking about everything, worrying about what's next. everyone here that I'm close to has made someone angry and I don't know how to protect you all
I know. I haven't stopped crying for more than ten minutes, for days. People HATE me now, for what I've said, and it's only going to get worse. We can only vote for two people at a time, and there are at least seven wolves.
We're being set up to fail, and destroy everything we've created here in the process.
I'd rather have you tease me too. Also I was wretched at twelve, I never stopped talking and I kept stealing the gardeners clothes.
Right, him. I don't know him that well, but he definitely leapt to accuse himself, which is...interesting.
There aren't any right answers here, Tim. Quentin and I voted for the same reason, to show support to someone, because if we get through this and everyone's hurt each other too irrevocably, is it even going to be worth it? Which I sort of hate myself for, because that's not what a Marine would do. A Marine would just lock up everyone powerful so they can't hurt anyone and I I don't want to do that. And I can't even think about what that means right now, that I don't want to act like a Marine anymore.
[ And he struggles still, with there not being an obviously right answer to everything, with the path forward into safety being littered with traps. He would rather his friends be hurt from the accusations and their fallout than be dead, but he feels sick to his stomach over the hurt he's already caused. ]
We can't lock up everyone. Even if we all agreed, the Balfours won't. We'll be stuck playing this game until it's done or we're in the ground.
I will. I already checked in with Hawk, but you can tell him "hi" I guess? Tell him to eat something and go to sleep.
I know. Everyone's...pretty upset, but. That's normal for us. I'm worried about them all. Even Shanks, though he never really lets on if he's upset. I can't Feel anyone, anymore.
It's gone. Like it's been turned off. I think it's the house, the game, trying to keep me from cheating or...or something.
[ Soft, raspy. There's a welt around his neck he thinks to hide under a turtleneck, but decided against it. Someone did this to him. And until they're caught, they need the reminder. ]
[It matches the one on Nami. Koby's already in a state, though he oddly isn't in tears for once in his life. He looks for a long, long moment, then slowly brings his eyes up to meet Tim's, staring at him, thinking about the last thing he'd said -- whatever happens, I love you.
Thinking about how that could've been the last thing he'd ever said to Tim.
He steps closer, reaches up carefully, gently, cradles Tim's face between his callused hands.]
[ He'll be jumpy, sensitive to unexpected touch for a while. Koby might not see it, because Koby is safe, and Tim knows that, so when he's touched he doesn't flinch, he leans right into it and reaches for more, pulling him into a hug, as tight as he can muster with the exhaustion. ]
[Is he? Koby doesn't know anything anymore -- somewhere in the middle of the night, the entire world turned upside down again. The first round it was Erik, sweet and compelling and fun, somehow embodying the illusion that this place could be safe, could be a home.
This time it was Tim and Nami. This time it was so, so much closer to home, and while they both escaped by a hair, the act of protecting them had put a target on Hawk and Shanks. There's no way to win.
He clings to Tim so tightly it makes his shoulders ache, stands up on his tiptoes so he can hold onto him better.] Scared. Exhausted. She's with the crew, she's safe. People will know for sure it wasn't her, or you.
No, it seems like that's the best possible option, at this point. The safest, definitely.
[Which isn't something he'd ever thought he'd say about being in prison, but. Nothing about the past couple weeks is normal, is it.
Koby leans back, wanting to insist that Tim's wrong, that Hawk is safe and sound, that everything's going to be fine. But he can't. He can't summon up the words. He has the same gut-clenching terror about Shanks.]
They might not. [It sounds hollow, even to his own ears -- they'd come for Paul, for saving Alina.] If someone else seems like a bigger threat, they might not.
No. I'm not hiding down there while someone who tried to kill me waits for a chance to do it again. I want to fight.
[ Not...literally, if he can avoid it, but with his head, with his friends, with their minds and their votes together. They can beat this. He has to believe they can beat this. ]
They will. Unless we get three, now, then they'll be few enough to go for bigger targets.
[ Alina, Pierce, Matt. He hates the way he's thinking, like they're just chess pieces, or shields he can throw in front of Hawk. Tim doesn't know if he's strong or brave enough to keep all his promises, and that feels just as bad as the aching bruise that collars his neck. ]
[Despite everything, that makes Koby smile a little, stepping back and reaching again, instinctively, to push up his glasses, bumping himself gently in the nose.] No, you're right. Everyone I care about in the world is in this stupid house, I'm not going to run away and hide while they're threatened.
[Even though he wants to. He really, really wants to.]
You should sit down. [Fussy mode, reaching out to gently nudge Tim back towards the inside of the room, reverting to old habits. Like it's still summer. Like they're still sharing a room and bickering over sink space.]
[ Tim's exhausted and every breath is like fire in his throat, so he's not hard to convince. He complies, ruffling Koby's hair as he pulls away to perch himself on the edge of the bed. ]
Could you get the kettle? Tea with honey helps. You can bring some back for Nami.
[The gesture is comforting, and Koby has to actively bite back the urge to seek out more, more affection, more contact, to replace the void left by his newfound powers evaporating. He nods, already finding the kettle, the hot plate, the tea. He can do this part, shaky hands and bitten-bloody fingernails and all.
He can do this.] She likes tea, I think. Well, sometimes. She liked it in the village.
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You ARE sleep deprived.
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kidding
I really am. even now in between I'm still thinking about everything, worrying about what's next. everyone here that I'm close to has made someone angry and I don't know how to protect you all
so I'd rather make fun of you for being twelve.
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We're being set up to fail, and destroy everything we've created here in the process.
I'd rather have you tease me too. Also I was wretched at twelve, I never stopped talking and I kept stealing the gardeners clothes.
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Quentin's mad at me. Alia has every reason to be. Hawk thinks I should be keeping my head down, but I can't. It's only going to get worse.
You still never stop talking 👨🏫
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There aren't any right answers here, Tim. Quentin and I voted for the same reason, to show support to someone, because if we get through this and everyone's hurt each other too irrevocably, is it even going to be worth it?
Which I sort of hate myself for, because that's not what a Marine would do. A Marine would just lock up everyone powerful so they can't hurt anyone and I
I don't want to do that. And I can't even think about what that means right now, that I don't want to act like a Marine anymore.
Sometimes I do. When I'm asleep.
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[ And he struggles still, with there not being an obviously right answer to everything, with the path forward into safety being littered with traps. He would rather his friends be hurt from the accusations and their fallout than be dead, but he feels sick to his stomach over the hurt he's already caused. ]
We can't lock up everyone. Even if we all agreed, the Balfours won't. We'll be stuck playing this game until it's done or we're in the ground.
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Whatever happens, I love you, okay?
[He gives it quickly, easily, because -- because anything could happen in the next few days. Koby's well-aware that there's nothing they can do.]
No, you're right. We have to be careful and smart. Try to stay in the game as long as possible.
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Just remember being careful isn't just investigating, okay? You and your crew took some heat back there.
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Tell him to eat something and go to sleep.
I know. Everyone's...pretty upset, but.
That's normal for us.
I'm worried about them all. Even Shanks, though he never really lets on if he's upset.
I can't
Feel anyone, anymore.
It's gone. Like it's been turned off.
I think it's the house, the game, trying to keep me from cheating or...or something.
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Louis and Matt said their powers weren't acting normally, either. So they must not want interference with the game.
Check in as much as you want to.
lil timeskip if that cool
Are you
Tim, I'm so
Do you need
Anything?
That's so stupid I'm
I'm so
Can I just come see you? Quickly? Just
I need to see you're okay.
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I'd like that
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Tim?
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Hi.
[ Soft, raspy. There's a welt around his neck he thinks to hide under a turtleneck, but decided against it. Someone did this to him. And until they're caught, they need the reminder. ]
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Thinking about how that could've been the last thing he'd ever said to Tim.
He steps closer, reaches up carefully, gently, cradles Tim's face between his callused hands.]
Hi.
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How's Nami?
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This time it was Tim and Nami. This time it was so, so much closer to home, and while they both escaped by a hair, the act of protecting them had put a target on Hawk and Shanks. There's no way to win.
He clings to Tim so tightly it makes his shoulders ache, stands up on his tiptoes so he can hold onto him better.] Scared. Exhausted. She's with the crew, she's safe. People will know for sure it wasn't her, or you.
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[ Because he didn't do it, and he does his best not to rustle feathers. His name had only come up once, with Armand's pettiness. ]
They'll come for Hawk next, for saving me.
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[Which isn't something he'd ever thought he'd say about being in prison, but. Nothing about the past couple weeks is normal, is it.
Koby leans back, wanting to insist that Tim's wrong, that Hawk is safe and sound, that everything's going to be fine. But he can't. He can't summon up the words. He has the same gut-clenching terror about Shanks.]
They might not. [It sounds hollow, even to his own ears -- they'd come for Paul, for saving Alina.] If someone else seems like a bigger threat, they might not.
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[ Not...literally, if he can avoid it, but with his head, with his friends, with their minds and their votes together. They can beat this. He has to believe they can beat this. ]
They will. Unless we get three, now, then they'll be few enough to go for bigger targets.
[ Alina, Pierce, Matt. He hates the way he's thinking, like they're just chess pieces, or shields he can throw in front of Hawk. Tim doesn't know if he's strong or brave enough to keep all his promises, and that feels just as bad as the aching bruise that collars his neck. ]
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[Even though he wants to. He really, really wants to.]
You should sit down. [Fussy mode, reaching out to gently nudge Tim back towards the inside of the room, reverting to old habits. Like it's still summer. Like they're still sharing a room and bickering over sink space.]
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Could you get the kettle? Tea with honey helps. You can bring some back for Nami.
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He can do this.] She likes tea, I think. Well, sometimes. She liked it in the village.
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