the ninth jack | video.

[faultlesscon]

Everyone's either paranoid, insane, screwed up, or not even themselves.

[It's a mutter under his breath when the feed comes to life - it's pointed at his sneakers which step back and out of view. As the faciliberry lens moves and lifts, everyone can see the damage done to the room; the bed is flipped and up, drooping against the wall like a

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[In person] TAKIN CHARGE if that's okay ; c ;

[redripoff]

[Oh hey, Alex, I hope you were ready for a knock at the common room door. Tim is totally coming in before you answer. He peeks his head in first:] Alex? [And upon seeing Alex on the couch, comes right in, hand reaching around to rest on Alex's shoulder before he even rounds the couch.] Alex--are you okay?

[redripoff]

I'll get it. [He's quick to stand, infinitely grateful for an excuse to stop thinking about home. Taps the outside of Alex's knee as he moves to the other boy's room. It makes him a little nervous to go in, and even more nervous to sift around till he finds that precious little white box--but his nerves ease when he can sit next to Alex again and pull out an alcoholic wipe, tear it open and open his hand to Alex.] Lemme see your arm.

[faultlesscon]

[Prodding won't make things better when this week is over, probably - because then it's just taking advantage of a situation. He stares at his knee when the other moves past and just sits back down, evening his breathing, trying to restrain the impulses, if that's possible.]

You don't have to do this. [A glance to that hand but then he's lifting his own to offer.]

[redripoff]

We're acquaintances. [It's a very dry joke, but a joke nonetheless. He wipes the wetcloth over Alex's arm, working carefully down and over his battered hand.] And I don't see you taking care of it. Sorry, this probably stings.

[faultlesscon]

[That... actually gets him, so he's quiet.]

I would if you let me - it's fine.

[redripoff]

You hurt yourself. That's never fine. [Bandaids, because it seems more practical and he's not sure he can wrap gauze correctly. Releases the patched hand and gestures for the other.] Next.

[faultlesscon]

It wasn't intentional, honest. [Looking to the work, he's thoughtful of it, tilts his head while absently offering his second one.

Then he pulls it back, shakes his head.] Let me clean this one, at least.

[redripoff]

...Okay. [But he'll still open a new wipe for you and hand it to you with an almost-pout. Tim holds his hands between his knees, leaning one shoulder against the couch as he watches Alex proceed.

[Then, very coolly:] Why aren't we friends? I mean--you and the other me.

... Tenny why is Hanna in the tags

[faultlesscon]

[The faintest of smiles at the reaction, but Alex is cleaning without any qualms at that. He stops to look up at the question.]

... It's a matter of trust, I think - on both our parts. [Trailing the wipe down to his wrist, he runs over the knuckles, clenches his hands.] We're getting better, or we could be.

I was doing massive tag cleaning--and I must have got confused. >:C

[redripoff]

...Everything I hear about him is...bad. Not bad. I don't know. I don't like it. [A sigh, like a dog falling asleep.] You should check your face too.

Oh okay I was just checking 8|b

[faultlesscon]

It's not all bad, you-- 'he' cares in his own way. [Not that he would know. He SUCKS at making friends.] There are a lot of things people don't like about themselves, remember that.

Ah - right. [He's rubbing his chin and the spots where he can feel the blood caking: not pleasant.]

[redripoff]

[Oh, come on, you're not doing it right, Alex.] Go to the mirror or let me do it.

[faultlesscon]

[He's quick to get up at that threat - a mild look.] I'm going, I'm going.

[Off to the bathroom.]

[redripoff]

[He lets Alex go alone. Doesn't want to him to feel like he doesn't know what he's doing. He probably knows better than Tim, anyway. So Tim just stays on the couch, pulls up his curls and curls against the back of it, watching the bathroom door in only mild anxiousness.

[He doesn't like the silence though. Maybe now--when they aren't face to face--is a good time to ask again. He calls:] So...what did the experiment make you do?

[faultlesscon]

[Leaning over the sink and in the mirror, Alex is wiping at the visible blood stains, making sure the wounds don't crack and bleed out more than they need to. For the most part the sounds from the bathroom are nearly quiet, which can be comforting or unsettling.]

Unexplainable acts of violence; had one last night and just now, as you could tell. [He sighs.] You doing okay?

[redripoff]

Fine. [Oh! That actually worked!] Um--how many have you had thus far?