[ Freddie doesn't remember the last time someone's made a point of asking about his wellbeing. Some of his buddies who were still in the Air Force had reached out after a few months to see what he'd gone and done afterwards, whether he'd become a corporate pilot like he said he was going to do when he got out, and he's stayed in touch over Facebook—but nobody's ever DMed him and asked if he's okay.
This isn't exactly a DM, either; it's something more intimate, a familiar voice, a gentle tug of the connection between them everyone here calls a tether. He appreciates it, even if he's caught off-guard, maybe even momentarily a little overwhelmed by the closeness. ]
Yeah. I am. Thanks.
[ As much as he can be. He hasn't stopped making himself throw up, and there's still blood. But he's trying, harder than he ever has, for Sharon and Arthur if not himself. He doesn't want them to have to bury him. And he doesn't want to do that to Toki, either.
He has friends here, in a way he hasn't since he got out. People who would grieve him. ]
no subject
This isn't exactly a DM, either; it's something more intimate, a familiar voice, a gentle tug of the connection between them everyone here calls a tether. He appreciates it, even if he's caught off-guard, maybe even momentarily a little overwhelmed by the closeness. ]
Yeah. I am. Thanks.
[ As much as he can be. He hasn't stopped making himself throw up, and there's still blood. But he's trying, harder than he ever has, for Sharon and Arthur if not himself. He doesn't want them to have to bury him. And he doesn't want to do that to Toki, either.
He has friends here, in a way he hasn't since he got out. People who would grieve him. ]
What about you? I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier.