IC Inbox

[weboftime]

voice | video | action

Comments

[weboftime]

"That's a loose definition of a friend," he grumbles.

"What if I don't make a friend until Wednesday? Can I count Jon and Dorian as friends to stave off the first two weeks?"

[wishiwasatree]

"Gotta work your way up, Henry, considering I don't think you've ever had one to begin with," she tells him. "Dorian and Jon don't count. You been in both their heads."

[weboftime]

"Because they allowed it."

He sighs. "I think you're stretching it by calling anyone a friend. But. I will talk to people." It means that he needs to dig his communicator out of his desk or wherever he stashed it.

[wishiwasatree]

"A friend's someone you ain't using just to torment. I will count someone who approaches you first, so try not to be a prick about it."

She finally pours the whiskey.

"Drink up, and you can make your first post to the network."

[weboftime]

He knows what alcohol is. His father used to drink before bed sometimes, but that doesn't mean he has any inclination to do it himself.

"Why?"

He stands up and digs his communicator out of his desk.

[wishiwasatree]

"Give you a little liquid courage. Lubricate the dry conversation you're about to fucking attempt."

She throws back her shot first, then holds out his insistently.

[weboftime]

He picks up the drink and shakes his head. "You think they're going to want to interact with me now?"

But he downs the first shot, completely oblivious, and then erupts in a coughing fit.

[wishiwasatree]

Look at Trixie, not laughing at him even though she wants to! She pours a second shot for both of them and sits down at his sad, little desk.

"I think more people'll want to talk to you than you realize."

[weboftime]

"You only think that," he says as he catches his breath, "because you want them to."

He picks up another glass, this time a bit more defiantly, and downs it quickly.

[wishiwasatree]

"No, no, I think you're not as singular as you fucking believe you are." He's not the only formerly-overpowered prick aboard the Barge.

She meets his gaze and downs her own shot.

[weboftime]

He places the glass back on the desk and sits on the bed. "Perhaps not, but that doesn't mean they're going to want anything to do with me."

[wishiwasatree]

"You won't know unless you put yourself out there."

She has herself a third glass, but won't push him into drinking any more.

[weboftime]

He tilts his head at her. "I am well aware of where I stand," he grumbles.

"Are you going to stay while I do this?"

[wishiwasatree]

"Gotta drink with supervision," she smirks. "Show me you're gonna do it, and I'll leave after it's posted."

[weboftime]

He stares at her a moment and considers the drink, pouring himself one more shot. "You really are serious about this?"

[wishiwasatree]

"Serious as the fucking dead."

What did he think the 'redemption' progress was going to be like? Hard labor and more electro-shocks?

[weboftime]

Yes. Exactly that.

Not drinking together and threats of quality time.

He sighs. "I'm not speaking," he tells her firmly and starts off his text post.

[wishiwasatree]

"Didn't specify. Whatever makes your dick hard."

She pours one last shot for Henry and then corks the bottle, waiting until she sees the post for herself to actually leave.

[weboftime]

He blinks at her. "Why do you have to talk like that?" he grumbles and then types out his post.

He shows it to her.

"There. It's done."

He can already feel the effects of alcohol, which is something quite similar to the drugs he's been given before, without the fear associated with them.

[wishiwasatree]

She observes the post - and Jesus Christ, Henry - but nods. He's done what he'd promised, so that's her cue to leave.

"Make good choices," she says, picking up the bottle and shot glass and heading to the door.

[weboftime]

"Leave the bottle?" he says, making it seem more like a question than a demand.

He doesn't want to get drunk, but there a knot of anxiety in his chest that seems to be a bit numbed by it.

[wishiwasatree]

She's wary, but sympathetic. He isn't likely to leave his room searching for more booze, so she places the bottle right into his hand.

Let him makes a few bad choices as the young adult he is.

"See you tomorrow," she tells him.

[weboftime]

He takes it and places it on the desk, tossing his communicator onto the floor for the moment.

"Why tomorrow?"

[wishiwasatree]

"Just to check in, you'll be fine."

And also to deliver a hangover remedy.

Trixie slips out before he can argue with her about the visiting hours thing.