mirrortouch | 04 | 🕓 | audio

( AUDIO )

Alana Bloom's cabin is empty.

[ Frayed at the edges, his voice. Abigail was first. Now it's just him. Him and Hannibal. Was that the way it was always meant to be. ]

Since these sort of announcements ought to be made.

[ This is getting too awkward city for him. He just hangs up. ]

( SPAM )

[ He woke up to Winston sitting patiently on the cement floor of his sad little room with its lopsided cot and his heart had immediately sank down into his stomach. That drop of a feeling when something's occurred to you quickly and innately. It's not that Winston hasn't gotten out before, found his way to Will's room; it's just that it's invariably accompanied by Alana.

Alana's not here. So Alana's not here. Is she?

There's a while where he just sits in her open cabin, hands stroking idly at Winston's ears and across his haunches. He loses track of time, maybe an hour, maybe four. He'd done the same with Abigail's. He was surprised nobody'd come across him then, and he doesn't expect to now. ]

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[ He doesn't make it a habit of branching out so much with the social circle, even before he took something unto himself with pride. He had always wavered more towards the idea that he didn't need much else to satisfy him socially; he had his little house, he had his dogs, he had all he needed but perhaps not all he wanted.

Hard to tell the difference, or it was before they were gone. Alana is a loss to him, an empty quiet where he could selectively find refuge. Abigail is a loss to him, and to think, he'd just gotten her back.

He looks up towards Daneca and can't quite manage to reciprocate that smile. His hands have long just rested on Winston's haunches, a steady presence there for both of them, but his fingers start skritching into fur again, almost robotically. ]

Come to assess my mental situation in these, these harrowing times of strife?

[That's an interesting way to put it. Daneca glances around the room before stepping inside the cabin a little further.]

I uh... I just wanted to see how you were holding up.

[The way he puts it sounds a little more invasive and manipulative. Daneca doesn't honestly think she'd be clever enough to pull something like that off even if she wanted to. She can barely even keep it together enough to act as necessary for Cassel.]

So, yes, I guess?

Hmm.

[ It's a thoughtful sound, but he doesn't move from his spot just yet. He lets her approach instead, feeling strangely small here in this room. It's certainly not his cell, but the wooden cabins just have a feeling about them, people who have come and gone in the interim. One day, his name is likely to be on that list. ]

The posts are steady. [ He tells her lightly, and does give his own bit of a smile himself. It's terribly forced. ] The legs remain standing; I'd say those are good signs.

[Daneca draws a breath like she's going to say something, her mouth even opening slightly, before she lets it go. Okay, so he doesn't like talking about things directly or, at the very least, likes to hide behind metaphors and analogies.]

[That's fine. She can handle it. She thinks.]

Why do I get a feeling there's a 'but?'

[ Of course there's a 'but', there's always a 'but'.

His mouth twists nastily and he keeps his eyes on the dog rather than on her. For a short while, he's quiet. ]

It's Daneca, isn't it?

Yeah.

[She nods a little, unsure of whether or not she just screwed things up in record time.]

[ She's doing alright. It helps that he knows it's only temporary. He doesn't plan on much sticking with wardens, though who knows how long until he'd get himself an actual warden tailored to him?

She's trying to help, is all, and he plays with Winston's ears. ]

Lot of disappearances happening lately, that's all.

[Daneca nods.]

Yeah, I know. I can't even remember the last time this many people left.

I'm... [She hesitates to say it because while she does genuinely mean it as much as she's able to, that doesn't stop it from coming across as a platitude.] I'm sorry it was someone you knew.

Two in a row. [ He corrects her with a sarcastic brightness, even as he dully stops petting Winston, regards the dog with a frown. ]

Comes in threes and sevens, death, bad events. I wonder what else is going to happen here.

You don't think that's setting yourself up, do you?

[What he's saying reeks of a self-fulfilling prophecy.]

[Not that it isn't understandable, however. Daneca often worries and thinks of the worst case scenario without ever meaning to and before she knows it, she's stuck on it. It's what keeps her so tight-lipped about being a worker and has always kept her on the side of playing it safe.]

[ He looks up at her - really looks up at her then, and knows that she can't be very old, wonders what it is she's trying to get out of this. Trying to help, certainly. Trying to figure out what kind of crazy he is, there's a possibility too.

With those considerations, he eyes her carefully. ]

It depends, what do you think I'm setting myself up for?

[The truth is, Will is most certainly overthinking Daneca and her intentions with being here which is very telling of the types of interactions he's used to. Unfortunately though, Daneca's attention is not that keenly focused on his response to her so much as how he's handling these strings of disappearances.]

Failure.

You know when you tell yourself over and over and over again how bad something is going to end up being but you never take a second to consider something good might happen instead? I...I do that a lot. I guess it comes with the territory of being a teenager, but it's... I think it's something easy to get used to doing.

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