THREAD OVERFLOWS

[eyediot]

An overflow post for memes and other game threads.

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[eyediot]

No catch at all. It healedy leg almost instantly.

[curriculum_fictae]

…

[ He looks down at his own wavering form. ]

Could it help me?

[eyediot]

... I'm not sure. When the Martin upstairs was brought here, he was afflicted with the Lonely as well. Everyone here sort of. Exorcised it from him, before I ever got here.

[curriculum_fictae]

Oh.

[ He fades a little, temporarily overwhelmed by jealousy. ]

I don’t there’d be anything left of me.

[eyediot]

Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not sure there'd be anything left of me.

[He squeezes his hand before letting go, patting the stool to sit.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin settles uncertainly, his ghostly hands nearly transparent against the table. ]

We’re both terribly messed up, aren’t we.

[eyediot]

[He sort of stops when he sets the bug on the counter, facing away from him. Breathe and...]

Yes. We are, a bit. But we're here now.

[curriculum_fictae]

Here. Here together…

[ He sounds so wistful. ]

[eyediot]

I'd that's what you'd like.

[He says it gently, pounding the hot water into the mug. He knows how Martin likes this, the cream and sugar.]

Only if you like it.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Oh yes. Martin takes the mug, holding it close to him. So warm that it nearly burns him - but he can feel the care here. As he breathes in the steam, his face comes back into focus again.

His hair is stark white, nearly translucent. His eyes a murky brown, while all of his freckles are smudged into nothingness. But it’s him. Jonah’s Martin.

He manages a small sip of his tea. ]

This is amazing.

[eyediot]

[He smiles gently watching him. Seeing those details come into focus.]

I thought I remembered you liked rooibos. Have as much as you like.

[For now, he'll settle for standing here, in the kitchen with his Martin.]

[curriculum_fictae]

You remembered…

[ It’s the care more than anything that’s doing it. More and more details come back into focus, then, until Martin himself is truly standing there in front of him. He sags a bit, unused to having a physical form. And he’s still utterly, miserably colourless - save for where a small amount is spreading from his chest out, showing the faintest of sky blue from the jumper he’s wearing.

Also, he starts to cry into his tea a little. ]

[eyediot]

Oh-

[God, he isn't good at tears. He moves to come next to Martin, hesitating before gently resting a hand on his shoulder (?) and hold it.]

I remembered a lot. Rooibos is your favorite, but you hate oolong. You're an excellent baker with a proficiency for scones. Delicious, by the way.

[Is it all right? Is Jonah doing this right?]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It’s his shoulder; it feels like flesh, though it is terribly cold.

And given the flickering smile that seems right so far? ]

Rooibos is my favourite. Yes. A-and I would drink oolong if I had to, but …

[ A faint sniffle. ]

Y-you did have my scones at the breakfasts me and Tim and Sasha had, then.

[eyediot]

I did, yes.

[He squeezes that shoulder gently.]

I think you could be happy here, if you wanted to stay. It's been... kind to me.

[curriculum_fictae]

Do you - do you really think so?

[ He looks up at the moment, towards the bedroom where Martin Sims is still asleep. ]

[eyediot]

I do.

[He nods, moving his hand to cup Martin's cheek and face him again.]

I can't promise to spend all my affection on you, I- I do love my husband. But. I'd be willing to work things out if you are.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Slowly, carefully, he places a frigid hand over Jonah’s. ]

Does that … does that mean I can kiss you?

[eyediot]

[It's a question that makes his heart skip a beat.

He wants to.

He knows how he feels when his husband doesn't talk to him first.

Jon sighs quietly just through his nose, thumbing along his cheek.]

I think some conversations would need to be had first. But. Ideally, yes.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Conversations? With who -

Oh.

All of Martin goes deadly cold, and he loses a layer of solidity in an instant. ]

You have to ask permission from your husband first.

[eyediot]

[He knows that feeling too well. The cause of such cold. He still tries to keep a firm hold on him though.]

It's only fair. I get jealous and upset when he does things without asking, so I- I should. At least try to not be a complete hypocrite.

[curriculum_fictae]

But -

[ He fades noticeably under Jonah’s fingers, though he does cling to them. ]

How - how long have you known him, really? How long did it take for you to replace me?

[eyediot]

[That sting is an ice dagger under his ribs. Even if it is through the Lonely, he knows the sentiment had to build from something. Jonah clings back harder.]

Months. And- And I'd mourned you long before that. You were dead, Martin. And his Jon was gone. We went through the same things up until Peter took you both.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry, Jonah. Martin continues to waver. ]

And - and what was the difference then? What happened after Lukas took him?

[eyediot]

I...

[He carefully, gently takes that incorporeal hand of Martin's between his hand, moving them to hold between them and... Not look him in the eyes.]

I failed. His Jon didn't.