三十一 // Who Says You Can't Go Home (1)

[pretecorrotto]

That's four days I'm never getting back.

Oi, brats. Both of you. It's too quiet in the house. Who are you terrorizing now?

Comments

[smokesordie]

Hey.

[quicklog]

[smokesordie]

[He smirks.]

Beats the alternative.

[A sentiment Eyepatch would totally agree with.]

[quicklog]

[pretecorrotto]

[Moon shifts uncomfortably.]

Was he... that bad?

[He also feels like an ass for making them upset. Not like it's his fault, but still... no one is immune to kid!tears.]

[quicklog]

[smokesordie]

As long as he's cool now, does it matter? All's well that ends well.

[Eyepatch hadn't seen Apple like that since the fire, but Eyepatch thinks Moon might appreciate it more if he directs the conversation away from that.]

[quicklog evolves to... Slowlog!]

[pretecorrotto]

Guess so. Not like people try to die around here.

[Moon senses an Uncomfortable Topic on the horizon. AND PLOWS AHEAD]

That guy was your friend? Did you know he was batshit crazy?

[SLOWLOG]

[smokesordie]

... I knew he wasn't exactly right in the head, but not like that. I don't think he even knew like that.

[One uncomfortable topic to the next. Still, he figures he owed Moon some explanation. That doesn't stop him from taking one mighty swig of his beer though, followed by patting his jacket down for his cigarette pack.]

Ah, toxins. What would I do without ya?

[Yar I be king o' this slowlog]

[pretecorrotto]

[The beer Moon was cradling is empty now, so he sets it on the coffee table and gets another cigarette from his pack. He lights up and offers the flame to Eyepatch silently.]

We'd be fucking wrecks like everyone else in the damn Tree.