No. 004 [Video] Tell me something good.

[respectedman]

[Dean Smith is sitting on top of his desk, an empty Scotch tumbler cradled in his hands.  He's beginning to realize that he's not necessarily attached to his regular, but he can empathize with him, and understand where he's coming from most of the time.

He glances up at the communicator, and one can see that he's disheveled, rather than primly put-

Comments

[leadmetotheark]

He killed my other once.

Clarence is really mean.

*Do you need a hug? He can offer hugs!*

[respectedman]

I've noticed. I hope never to meet him.

[Please hug him. He looks like a kicked puppy.]

[leadmetotheark]

I don't wanna either. *sad face* Where are you at? I'll bring you some cookies.

[respectedman]

[Dean would point out that he's not really interested in eating anything - he hasn't done that in a day or two, either - be he hasn't the heart to deter the masked man.]

Floor ten, room one-hundred. I...thanks.

[leadmetotheark]

*And he's there! He has a plate of cookies but he puts them down on a table and tightly hugs Dean instead.

He barely comes up to Dean's shoulder.*

[respectedman]

[He's a little startled by the hug, but doesn't complain, and hugs the tiny little masked person back.]

You didn't- You didn't have to make cookies...

[leadmetotheark]

Uh-huh! You're sad and cookies help sadness.

Clarence is really mean. I wish he'd go away and leave Philip alone.

[respectedman]

[He nods slowly, disentangling himself from the young masked man and and picking up one of the cookies. Dean eyes it skeptically before taking a bite.]

You're not the only one. I think that Philip feels the same way.

[Chew chew chew.]

...these are delicious, by the way.

[leadmetotheark]

*Masky perches on the arm of Dean's couch.*

Poor Philip. I wish we could do something.

I haven't meet Clarence on our side. Is he nice?

[respectedman]

I'm afraid there's very little we can do, based upon my observations. Not without irrevocably damaging him.

[leadmetotheark]

Oh. That's no fun.

*He kicks his legs and thinks about it.*

Is he gonna be alright? Your other I mean.

[respectedman]

God, I hope so. I really do. He internalizes a lot, and it's probably stressing him out. Hell, it's stressing me out.

[leadmetotheark]

Maybe you can write him a cheer-up note on the mirror! Don't be stressed! I heard that was bad for you.

[respectedman]

[Dean rubs the back of his head, considers this, and eats another cookie.]

...I'm not sure how kindly my message will be received, but I'll try it.