Foster Van Denend

[............]

.... I don't want to presume to know more than you do. Please understand, I didn't do it for me.

[... he hates it when people try to do this. People actually try to argue with him like he's some kind of... equal, like they think his words have some weight equal to theirs.

But he's not budging. Even as he glances aside, the shape of his mouth tightens into an even thinner, more certain line.]

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[ He's not closing the door, either. ]

I don't want to do that, either. Everybody knows a little bit, right? You can't get all your quests or exposition from one NPC.

[ That... made sense in her head. ]

Did you do it for me?

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[Wow. Wow. No.

This is making Foster actively uncomfortable now. He stiffens, his hand on the door--threatening, without even meaning to, to shut it in her face.]

..... you could say that.

[He feels like recoiling. Why can't she just accept his convictions instead of questioning his motives?]

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Why?

[ Still standing her ground. Not stepping forward, or back. (It's too hard to do that with these big dumb awkward rabbit feet anyway. ]

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[W... hy?

Why does she have to ask him something like that? Why isn't she arguing with his words instead of questioning him?

Why can't she just accept his convictions?]

Because you were distracting yourself with it! You don't have time.

[No one does! Time is finite. Why is this so hard for people!?]

Edited Date: 2017-01-12 02:19 am (UTC)

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Mm... I guess I was. You mean that we should live life to the fullest while we have it, right?

[ She looks down. ] Psii-senpai said something like that, too.

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Psiionic?

[Foster looks startled. But he latches on, plowing forward--agitated, but in an outwardly animated way.]

Yes--yes! Like that. You should listen--! I'm trying to save you!

[His left hand rises to push back through his hair, fingers running furrows through yellow curls. As he reaches the ends of the strands, his fingers fold, grabbing a half-handful of his own hair before it slips through his grasp.]

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[ She sighs. ] I know. I need to be in the world, more... I've learned that, I think, but sometimes I forget. Sometimes it's just... hard, or tiring. And this place is still a bit new to me.

[ Rocking back and forth on her legs, she thinks. ] I'm really trying to play it less. But sometimes... you're right. I need to learn how not to use it as a crutch.

[ She looks up at him. ] But sometimes... sometimes I need it. Please. Because I don't have anything else.

And that's... that's my decision to make, anyway. Isn't it? I mean... if you take something away, that the other person really wants, doesn't that just make the other person want it more? So... what you did really just makes things worse, doesn't it?

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You're addicted to distraction. You think you need it because you're afraid. You notice things without it, right?

[He's practically pleading--but there's a vein of anger in it too, both hands in his hair, fistfuls of blond curls pulled away from his face.]

That's why I hate games. It's just a distraction! If you don't think about it, it's not real! Humans hiding behind willful ignorance!

I'm not going to help you pretend you won't DIE!

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I--

[ Something chokes up in her throat. She tries to push the words out but nothing comes. Suddenly everything's too bright. The walls in the trailer behind Foster are shockingly pink.

If it weren't for her sturdier legs, she'd fall over. As it is, she clutches the stair railing and tries to catch her breath, because her chest feels tight and breathing is sort of difficult all of a sudden.

What is happening to her? ]

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[From Foster's perspective, Chiaki just looks like she's spaced the fuck out--at least at first.]

Are you even listening? I'm talking t--hey!

[Chiaki pitches forward, and even Foster isn't capable of ignoring that. The problem is, he has no idea what's going on or whether he's supposed to care. (Some small, pointless instinct says yes, at least until further notice.) The good news is he's at least a little concern, and takes a step forward as though to intervene--but he doesn't know what he'd be intervening in, so he doesn't actually do anything besides stare at her, waiting for a response.]

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[ A body approaching, that she can register through her haze, and she takes a step back, her feet thankfully still keeping her from falling over, though only barely. ]

J-just... just a...

[ Heck... is she having a heart attack? Some kind of fae disease? She doesn't know, and that just makes her feel sicker.

She is afraid, she realizes through her pain and discomfort. He wasn't wrong. Somehow, this doesn't make her feel any better. ]

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[Just a what?

This isn't helping Foster figure out what he's supposed to do about this--he really just doesn't want her to die right on his steps.]

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[He's already looking for Chiaki when he spots them. He'd wanted to go over something with her, but she wasn't answering her radio. With nothing better left to do for the day he decides it's harmless to walk around and see if he spots her. In the end he's glad he does when he sees her struggling in front of a trailer.]

Chiaki?

[He doesn't even really notice Foster at first as he moves towards her trying to help her stand.]

Chiaki are you okay?

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[ At first another shadow just makes her shrink away, back towards the stairs. But when she registers who the tall gray-skinned arrival actually is, she lets him help her, taking his arm for balance. ]

J-just a second... sorry... Psii...

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[Foster is... honestly relieved that the Psiionic arrived on the scene, because it means he doesn't have to do something and do it wrong.

He steps back a bit, retreating just a couple steps into his trailer, one hand on the doorframe.

He almost considers actually leaving the situation entirely, but that's not going to work. Even if it would definitely be better--on multiple accounts.

He does look visibly concerned, with furrowed brow.]

Should I....

...uh. Hang on.

[He disappears into his trailer entirely, but leaves the door open.]

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[He watches foster go, but his focus is on Chiaki, someone who is apologizing to him now of all times.][

Hey, that's fine. Are you alright? Are you feeling sick?

[He maneuvers with her, helping her to sit on the steps, or at least lean against him]

I got you, you're safe now.

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[ She holds her head as it stops spinning, though now that's replaced by a dull throbbing ache. Psii at her side is some measure of comfort, actually, he's living and okay and...

She buries her face in her hands. The tightness in her chest is still sort of there, but it's lessened, and she's trying to focus on taking one breath after another. She gulps out answers to the questions as she can. ]

F-fine... just happened...

[ Think of something happy, think of something happy... calm down...

A grin looms out of the darkness of her mind and she clutches her heart again. This is gonna take some time, apparently. She's so stupid and weak... ]

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[Her reactions are only worrying him more. Gently he pulls her wrists so her hands are no longer covering her face. He stands in front of her, his hands on her shoulders to keep her steady.]

Chiaki. Breath in, count to 3, breath out. Okay? Do it with me. In, one, two, three, then out.

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[ She jerks a little as she's pulled, but looks up at Psii and swallows. Okay. She needs to calm down. For him, at least.

One gulping breath in, then one out. Then another, and another -- it's harder at first but slowly easier as the breaths continue, as it's the only thing she's focusing on. Breathing, and looking at Psii, focusing on him.

Slowly, the world straightens out. ]

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[No, Foster has not completely ditched them. He reappears in the doorway with a glass of water, but now he isn't entirely sure whether to give it to Psii or Chiaki.

So he sets it down on top of the steps instead, stepping back again and crouching down to study Chiaki's face from his place by the doorframe.]

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[As he breathing straightens he offers her a tentative smile.]

Okay?

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Okay.

[ She's not, completely. She still aches all over. But she can breathe, and he's there, so things are markedly better. She nods and gives him a shaky smile. ]

I-I'm okay. Thanks.

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[Oooookay.

So... is this... thing over then? Should he leave?

Fuck. Fuck. He really just isn't good at this. He's still not even totally sure what brought this on. Or what 'this' is.

After a second's pause, he picks the glass back up, this time descending the steps to at least actually give it to her.]

Here. Drink it.

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