Are you afraid...

[thecrowingtobe]

Who: Claudio and Trauma
When: Morning of the 23rd
Where: Apartment of Emo, covered parking house.
Summery: Claudio has been a little moody lately and not really sleeping. His talk with Michael (Magneto) helped a lot, but it's also set his mind to over thinking. The "Voice" of his father is talking to him again also... shit.
Warnings: None yes?

Comments

[mademyhell]

Trauma was worried

[thecrowingtobe]

He was not paying attention. He was more focused on what was going on in his head then what was going on around the parking house. The fact that someone managed to come in behind him like that said lots for his concentration, considering after the first few time Trauma had startled him into bashing his head on the under side of this wreck he had gotten really good at keeping an ear out, even if he had the radio on.

This time he had no radio on and he still missed it and yet... not. "Fuck, can't you just leave me alone already. I said there ain't nothin' I can d--" He stopped short as the voice actually sunk in. He sat up, leaning back and looking sharply out to his friend, glaring at first but then almost instantly... relieved. With a small sigh he relaxed, one foot out the car door, turned so he could see his friend.

"Nothin'. Just... been a bad night." A pause was had before he raised a brow at the other. "You're home early?" Cus shouldn't he still be at work? You know, like he himself should be?

[mademyhell]

He managed to not react to the aborted conversation start, but only barely. Ever since the whole power fuck up, he'd been trying to keep closer tabs on the whole...voices problem. It was freaky as shit, honestly, if you asked him. Worst part was, he was pretty sure he was the only one who had any sort of clue that there was an issue in the first place

[thecrowingtobe]

The voices thing was getting worse, off and on at least. He thought he had a handle on it but... no. It came back with the same nagging father voice as ever. He had scared the shit out of himself the other day when he looked in the mirror and thought he saw his father. It was... one of those maturing things, right? He needed a shave. People say he looked like a smaller skinnier version of his father, right?

Still, he needed to get a grip. He'd done well with not talking out loud in front of people, but when he was alone he did tend to have those odd one sided conversations. Mostly him telling the voice off.

Sitting up more he leaned out the car, resting elbows on his knees, and holding his head in two grease stained hands. "Fuck, seriously?" He gave a small grunt. "Yeah... suppose I been down here all this time. Had stuff to... think about, I guess." And with a small snort he tossed in another apology. "Sorry about work. I just wasn't feeling up to running the dark tonight."

[mademyhell]

"Why're you apologizing to me, dumbass? Don't work for me." Trauma brushed off the apology as if it had never been, he didn't see the point of it, and he crossed his arms over his chest, tipping his head back against the window