Annagovia trotted up to the shoreline to watch the man with his small boat with a keenly intelligent gaze, but that was a direwolf for you.
"It's rude not to help," Duo told her, ruining her magisterial poise by shaking a hand through her ruff, which she immediately rounded on, playfully flipping herself over and rolling on the sand. Duo rolled his eyes and jogged over to the canoe.
"I've got this weird impression like you weren't out there fishing," he said, glancing Mike over, eyebrows inching up.
For the last week, off and on, there have been voices in his head. He had known at the time that they weren't real and was never frightened by them, but he's been so withdrawn into himself that until he looks up he thinks this is merely more of the same.
"Hi," he says, and it comes out sounding rough. He clears his throat and glances back at the canoe.
"Needed to get away for a while. Deal with some things."
He nods. "Far as I know. Haven't seen 'em in a week." It strikes him now, and had before he'd left, that what he's done might not actually sound that good to a lot of people, leaving Eostre here with two barely two-month-old babies. Not that she hasn't had help, but still.
He just has to trust that the right people will understand.
He tilts his chin back at the boat. "Gimmie a hand? Need to get it up past the high tide line."
'Boss.' Mike smiles slightly at the word and gets a firmer grip on the rope. "Heave," he says, still smiling, and then glances at the dripping dog as he gives the canoe a good pull. Doesn't look like a problem, but it's no Dexter.
"Direwolf," Duo responded, grunting slightly as he pushed the canoe up towards the shore. He was just under 5'5" and was not exactly a heavyweight. True, he was pure, rippling muscle, but on a very lean scale.
Lean. Not small.
"She's got another few growth spurts in her, I guess." Annagovia was by no scale small. "I'm trying to get her to stop sleeping in the bed because, you know, there's not room for three of us. And her boyfriend. It's a full house." Annagovia waded solemnly alongside Mike for a while, watching him.
It had been doable on his own, and with the extra help it's easier. In a couple series of shifts the bottom of the boat is sliding against dry sand.
"Jesus," he says, looking at her again with slightly widening eyes. Direwolves... he's pretty sure they're supposed to be extinct. Then again, so are dinosaurs.
"My... friend has a dog," he says, pulling again. One of these days he'll figure out what the hell to call Hobbes to other people. "She could fucking eat him."
"Yeah, probably. She's a sweetheart though. Still a big puppy, and she's used to playing with someone smaller than her." Arnold was pure muscle and descended from the most vicious animals on the Disc, but the puppy himself had roughly zero killer instinct.
She certainly doesn't look anything other than friendly, though he keeps an eye on her as he lowers the rope and wipes sweat off his forehead. Far enough up, for now.
"So," he says, still feeling the slightest unease as he reaches into the canoe for his water. Before, Duo had been the only one who had known. Now, for all he knows, word's gotten around.
"Okay," Duo said with a shrug, holding his hand out automatically as Annagovia went to him and pushed the top of her skull against his palm.
"Not as substantially less crazy as I would have liked. And my, y'know, my boyfriend knows, now, but he's... actually helpful. And apparently the post office he worked at was haunted or some shit, it's a weird story, but he's not scared off by voices and visions and whatever. Which is kinda weird, to me, but I'm not gonna go complaining. So, what brought on the sabbatical?"
"You're lucky," he says quietly, uncapping the bottle and swallowing, hard. The water's cool despite the sun and he sighs before holding it out in offer.
"I..." He shakes his head, not really having any idea how to put this. "I needed to try to put a lid on it. I've got kids. I can't be losing my shit." I can't be attacking my fucking friends with trees.
"I dunno." He looks down at his hands, chafed red from hauling on the rope. "I guess... I guess it's better. Maybe a little more stable. You're lucky," he says again, looking back up. "My... well, they've both been great. Understanding. But it's still more complicated."
"More complicated than Crazy Visions, trademarked?" he asked, tacking the 'tradmarked' on quickly and quietly. ""Or more complicated just because there's more people?" Annagovia sat next to Mike's foot and started surreptitiously to sniff him.
"More people," he says, and smiles faintly. "One of whom doesn't like me very much right now. Not that I blame him." He tilts his head on one side, thinking.
"Then again, I'm guessing you haven't attacked anyone with a piece of lumber?"
Somehow, the idea that Duo possibly has is almost comforting. Like maybe he can chalk it up to another symptom instead of something worse.
"It's rude not to help," Duo told her, ruining her magisterial poise by shaking a hand through her ruff, which she immediately rounded on, playfully flipping herself over and rolling on the sand. Duo rolled his eyes and jogged over to the canoe.
"I've got this weird impression like you weren't out there fishing," he said, glancing Mike over, eyebrows inching up.
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"Hi," he says, and it comes out sounding rough. He clears his throat and glances back at the canoe.
"Needed to get away for a while. Deal with some things."
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"Babies okay?"
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He just has to trust that the right people will understand.
He tilts his chin back at the boat. "Gimmie a hand? Need to get it up past the high tide line."
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"Just say 'heave', boss." Annagovia ran into the water behind them, swam in an arch, and came up onto the sand on their other side.
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"Your dog?" he pants.
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Lean. Not small.
"She's got another few growth spurts in her, I guess." Annagovia was by no scale small. "I'm trying to get her to stop sleeping in the bed because, you know, there's not room for three of us. And her boyfriend. It's a full house." Annagovia waded solemnly alongside Mike for a while, watching him.
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"Jesus," he says, looking at her again with slightly widening eyes. Direwolves... he's pretty sure they're supposed to be extinct. Then again, so are dinosaurs.
"My... friend has a dog," he says, pulling again. One of these days he'll figure out what the hell to call Hobbes to other people. "She could fucking eat him."
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"Yeah, probably. She's a sweetheart though. Still a big puppy, and she's used to playing with someone smaller than her." Arnold was pure muscle and descended from the most vicious animals on the Disc, but the puppy himself had roughly zero killer instinct.
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"So," he says, still feeling the slightest unease as he reaches into the canoe for his water. Before, Duo had been the only one who had known. Now, for all he knows, word's gotten around.
"How've you been?"
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"Not as substantially less crazy as I would have liked. And my, y'know, my boyfriend knows, now, but he's... actually helpful. And apparently the post office he worked at was haunted or some shit, it's a weird story, but he's not scared off by voices and visions and whatever. Which is kinda weird, to me, but I'm not gonna go complaining. So, what brought on the sabbatical?"
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"I..." He shakes his head, not really having any idea how to put this. "I needed to try to put a lid on it. I've got kids. I can't be losing my shit." I can't be attacking my fucking friends with trees.
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"I hear that," he said. "It's rough. Rougher with your set up. So." He glanced out to sea and back again. "Did it work?"
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"Then again, I'm guessing you haven't attacked anyone with a piece of lumber?"
Somehow, the idea that Duo possibly has is almost comforting. Like maybe he can chalk it up to another symptom instead of something worse.
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