[ there's a muffled sound that has the same tone as 'come in' but probably wasn't actually composed of any words. sally, as he'll soon discover, is curled tight on her bed and cocooned heavily in blankets, with her head sandwiched between her pillows. her room itself is a mess so fortunately she doesn't care about anything more than about a foot and a half outside of her cocoon. and please don't take her blankets because her clothes are totally still under the bed. ]
[ He's not sure what to say, really, so he ends up going with that, tone sorry and sympathetic and tired all at once. There's a slight edge of worry creeping in, too; and while it's for her, it'd be a lie to say his mind isn't distracted by the awareness of their penchant for collateral damage. He's distracted by the mess, and it takes him a moment to step in and shut the door carefully behind him.
She turned. He'd know that from the state of her room if not from her texts, and there's a flash of fear at the confirmation. It lends a focus to his expression as he steps over the wreckage of her room to sit carefully on the edge of the bed, one hand seeking out her shoulder (at least he thinks that's her shoulder?? that is one heck of a cocoon). He starts to speak, stalls out on the realization that what he needs to ask might sound insensitive; after a beat, he goes forward with it anyway. ] Was anyone with you?
[ she shakes her head. ] Thank god. [ that was not something she was any kind of ready to deal with, the thought of hurting someone at all like that, let alone turning them into what she's become. ]
Then it's fine. [ It's not remotely fine. But if nobody's dead or hurt or turned, then hey, it could've been worse. Either way, he says it with enough confidence to sound like he means it. ] And now we know, right? Next month we'll be ready.
[ There's a slightly awkward and slightly depressing pause, and then: ]
You should probably consider switching to one of the empty rooms.
[ Which is to say your room is completely wrecked, goddamn. ]
Hey. [ He gives her shoulder a light squeeze, voice earnest. ] You can handle this. I mean, come on— this isn't even close to the worst thing you've dealt with.
[ PEP TALKS ?? Also blatantly a lie, this definitely makes the top five. ]
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[ He's not sure what to say, really, so he ends up going with that, tone sorry and sympathetic and tired all at once. There's a slight edge of worry creeping in, too; and while it's for her, it'd be a lie to say his mind isn't distracted by the awareness of their penchant for collateral damage. He's distracted by the mess, and it takes him a moment to step in and shut the door carefully behind him.
She turned. He'd know that from the state of her room if not from her texts, and there's a flash of fear at the confirmation. It lends a focus to his expression as he steps over the wreckage of her room to sit carefully on the edge of the bed, one hand seeking out her shoulder (at least he thinks that's her shoulder?? that is one heck of a cocoon). He starts to speak, stalls out on the realization that what he needs to ask might sound insensitive; after a beat, he goes forward with it anyway. ] Was anyone with you?
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Yeah. [ she swallows hard, then a tired: ] He totally got out, though. [ he got out after she turned, but whatever. ]
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[ Scratched. Hurt. All of the above. Even if someone was there while she was mid-shift, the threat's there— it hadn't stopped him from turning Nora.
See also: total lack of bedside manner. He's had too many close calls not to push for the details. ]
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should have hiatused x10000
[ There's a slightly awkward and slightly depressing pause, and then: ]
You should probably consider switching to one of the empty rooms.
[ Which is to say your room is completely wrecked, goddamn. ]
it's okay ilu
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[ PEP TALKS ?? Also blatantly a lie, this definitely makes the top five. ]