Dying once in the fog was traumatizing. Waking up after his death still trapped in the fog was another thing altogether. He felt like a caged animal, terrified and scared when he couldn't find anyone he knew again, and navigating it alone only ended in disaster once more. He could barely look at himself in the mirror, lucky on on one hand to escape without a scar that bisects him, but not lucky enough for the marks around his throat. Tears well in the corners of his eyes at the memory of teeth and flesh and blood but he shakes his head, wiping his eyes.
He needed to be strong and not fall into despair, but boy was it difficult not to.
Wylan wasn't expecting to find Jesper at the door to his room when he opens it to leave, nearly leaping out of his skin at the sudden figure looming in the frame, heart racing from the memories of that night. His mind catches up to what his eyes are seeing, and he immediately sags with relief, bodily leaning against the door as he holds it open.
"Jesper." He says as if he's out of breath. "How long have you been there?"
As much as he wanted to hide away in his room forever and wallow, he didn't want Jesper to think he was ignoring him.
He hadn't expected the door to open, or for Wylan to be right behind it, his own hand poised to knock. It's not hard to notice the way Wylan tenses, likely not expecting anyone to be on the other side of the door either, or the fear that seems to flit across his features in that split second before recognition comes in. Shit.
Even more noticeable were the scars tracing their way up Wylan's neck, ending just under his jaw. Whatever had been chasing them couldn't have left those--he wouldn't ask what did that to him, there were too many possible answers. And Jesper...Jesper wasn't sure he wanted to know.
He doesn't answer his question. He's left staring for a moment, taking in Wylan's presence and the fact that he was there, solid and real--a bit more broken and scarred than Jesper would have ever wanted him to be in this place, but here. "Wylan..." It's a choked sound, heavy with relief and other twisted, tangled emotions. There's a beat of hesitation, thoughtful in not wanting to startle the other boy, but then he's moving forward and bundling Wylan up in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."
He hates how he tenses up in Jesper's hold, hands frozen in place as he stands there stunned. It's just Jesper he tells himself, his body slowly relaxing, chiding himself for being so frightened of contact. He shakes his head, slowly wrapping his arms around Jesper's neck as he pushes himself closer.
"It's not your fault." He says softly, quietly, as he presses his forehead against his shoulder. "It's not your fault."
It's not like they could have expected this to happen or at least, not as it did. Wylan just stands there, hiding his face against his neck, willing himself not to cry again. Waking up disoriented the second time after he died was- he shakes his head, pulling back enough to cup Jesper's face with his hands and look up at him.
"I'm alive," His voice quivers, his thumb running under Jesper's eye slowly. "I'm alive. See? It's okay."
Jesper almost lets go when he feels Wylan tense--almost, but he can't quite bring himself to want to. And then Wylan relaxes, pushes closer; he can breathe and hold on just a little tighter.
There are whispers that it isn't his fault, but that's not going to erase the guilt that sicks heavy in his chest. It isn't going to get rid of the memory of those screams, of turning in the lobby and not finding him there and knowing what happened beyond that door. He says nothing of that, only nods and tries to hide the grief as Wylan pulls back to look him in the eye.
"It's...better, but not okay." He admits quietly. He reaches up with one hand to cup Wylan's face, fingers tracing over scars that extend just a bit higher than the rest at his throat. "I tried to find you..."
"You tried to - you should have kept yourself safe." He chides softly, shaking his head as he rubs at his face. "You could have gotten yourself killed."
And then where would they be?
His whole body tenses again as Jesper's fingers trace over the scars on his neck, and he can feel the bile rising in his throat. Wylan's hands drop to his shirt, clutching tightly, doing his best to not jerk his head back to get him to stop touching them. He chews on his lips, swallowing down his nerves, tugging lightly on his shirt.
"You didn't have to look for me." And he wouldn't have wanted to be found again. Not after-- Not after-- He sighs. "I'm alive. It's okay. Let's just... focus on that."
Give him something else to focus on other than the fact that he's died.
"You know I was going to look regardless." He replies softly, drawing his hand away from Wylan's face to settle back near his waist. He saw the reaction the touch brought, and he remembers how it felt to have the scar he used to bear pointed out. He was certain there was something they could do about those--though it might mean another visit with Kavinsky if he didn't have enough on hand.
Worthwhile debt, in his opinion, if it kept Wylan from looking like that every time he touched him.
"But you're right...We should focus on where we are." Focus on something that didn't have either of them dead in the halls of this damned hotel. "I'm starting to think we should consider moving. For the record."
He knows that Jesper would have gone looking for him, but that doesn't stop the fact that he would much rather have him stay safe when they were both trapped in the fog. He hates how he relaxes as his hands settle on his waist, wondering if this was going to be A Thing for him going forward. Maybe if he could just move past the memories, it would be easier. He knew death could be violent, but he never expected it to happen to him.
A miracle that it never happened in the Barrel and he knew why that was.
"I don't think moving out of the hotel is going to make things better." He sighs, his fingers relaxing against his chest. "I don't think it matters where we are, it's just going to be torture."
Why take the chance with moving if it meant that they would likely just be tormented either way?
"I don't think it will either. It wasn't why I brought it up." He isn't a fool enough to think they'd be safe if they went out into the town and set up in one of the houses out there. Dangers seemed to follow wherever you went in Hell, and that wasn't going to change with an address.
He glances down the hall, keenly aware that they were still in the open doorway of Wylan's suite. He gently nudges the other boy back into the entry, closing the door quietly behind them. He doesn't think anyone would be after them now, and certainly not any of the residents, but it still felt better to be out of general, public view.
"We keep going to find each other when things happen. We can't avoid danger, but...we can at least limit the risk if we get into a room together."
"So you're suggesting moving rooms?" He asks as soon as they were safely inside the suite. "That's not a bad idea." He admits with a nod. "How do we apply for a room change, do you know?"
It was a good idea considering it would be easier to stick together if they were already in the same room. The question was how would they be able to convince Lucifer to allow them to change rooms? He doesn't like the idea that they'd need to talk to Lucifer at all to do it.
"I don't like the idea of moving out of the hotel." He admits, finally releasing Jesper's shirt and moving to sit down on the couch in the suite. "Something about the housing outside of the hotel unnerves me."
"I have no idea...Maybe ask at the front desk?" If they wanted to make it official anyway. With the way this place had shuffled them around before, he doubts it would be as simple as just deciding to shack up somewhere. Hell didn't make things easy.
He follows Wylan deeper into the suite, taking up the space next to him on the couch. He normally gave space, but he's a bit reluctant to let Wylan stray too far out of sight right now--he's sure that will fade. Eventually.
"You sure that isn't the energy that is Kavinsky?" Jesper jokes softly, but he knows Wylan has his reasons to worry. "To be honest, the hotel itself is trouble enough. Whole houses? Free for the taking? You're probably right about there being something off there."
"Kavinsky isn't the only thing out there I worry about." He actually laughs lightly, shaking his head. "I just don't think it's safe and everyone out there is crazy."
Not that the hotel was much safer but something about Hellburbia just doesn't seem like it was an idyllic community. It takes him a moment, but he slowly leans over and rests his head against Jesper's shoulder, enjoying the closeness that they could share even in their own guilt and grief.
"I hate this place." He frowns, looping his arm around Jesper's as he keeps close. "I don't think you're meant to like it unless you thrive on violence and torture." Or the sex. He's pretty sure he does not want to know what happens in Club Penance.
"You say as if we're not part of a whole troupe of crazy people," Jesper murmurs, letting Wylan settle in against his side. They both carried their own grief and trauma from recent events, but like this--like this, he could at least feel as if they shouldered them well enough together.
He sighs at Wylan's next observation, true as it may be. "If anyone likes this place, I'm making a point to stay far away from them." That was not the kind of person they needed to be dealing with on top of everything else. "The point, apparently, is supposed to be redemption. I'm not so sure it's actually obtainable."
"How are we obtaining redemption? How is everything that we've faced so far a path to it?" He sounds exasperated by it all. "The torture, the death, the pain that we're all experiencing doesn't seem like a sound way for us to "redeem" ourselves."
Then again, the fog may not have been Lucifer's doing, or even the Veiled Order's. Lilith was also trapped with them all and he doesn't think that she would be tortured with them. He huffs out a sigh, carefully moving to take hold of Jesper's hand for the added contact.
"Sorry I just, can't wrap my mind about what we've been through versus what the supposed end goal is." He's thought about it a lot too. "I think you're right about it not being obtainable."
"I think if you try to figure it all out you're just going to drive yourself mad." There seemed to be no clear answers here. It's obvious the fog itself wasn't something to push their redemption--not with Lilith herself caught up in it. But that hardly brought any level of comfort.
"I think...all we can do, is keep together. Keep each other grounded and take care of each other." It's how they'd managed to make it so far. He was going to put some faith into that if only because it was the only thing worth putting his faith into.
Not that he was entirely comfortable with the idea, but it was a solid idea never-the-less. Wylan is grateful that Jesper was someone who could ground him, only briefly wondering what Hell would be like if he wasn't around.
"Are you staying the night?" He asks, changing the subject.
Could he actually handle Jesper in his bed tonight? Their closeness was fine for now, but if he started to touch his neck again, he's not sure he could handle it. He hates the idea that he couldn't handle Jesper even touching him. He unconsciously touches his neck, his breathing quickening slightly.
It's not an unusual question, from either of them, but there's a different cadence to Wylan's voice. Something that suggests there's more to this question. There's a hesitancy he's not used to, and it only serves to etch a frown across his face when it's coupled with Wylan reaching up to touch his neck.
He doesn't like what this place is doing to the boy in front of him. There had always been a nervous quality to Wylan, no doubt the result of years under his father's tutorage and scorn. But this was something more, something visceral and dark.
Jesper doesn't like it at all. But he says nothing of it either.
"Do you want me to?" It's a whisper, gentle. He wants to stay, wants the assurance that comes with having Wylan close and not--But he wouldn't force it either. It's obvious Wylan has his own nightmares and scars to deal with. If he felt he needed to do that alone, well he wasn't going to argue.
He hesitates to respond, the words dying on his tongue as his mind races with his answer. Does he want Jesper there? Does he want to face this nightmare head-on and on his own? He licks his lips, before he slowly, so slowly, nods.
"Yes, of course." He whispers back, slowly removing his hand from this throat. "I want you to stay."
He doesn't think he can do this alone. Not yet, not when it's still so raw. What sort of nightmares would sleep bring? He wasn't certain and Wylan doesn't wish to speculate on what his dreams will bring. He's already reliving his deaths every time he looks in the mirror. At least, he thinks, he only has a reminder of one of them.
"What do you want to do in the meantime?" He asks, gripping Jesper's hand tighter. "I was thinking we could grab some coffee from the lobby... At least that was my plan anyway."
Coffee to keep himself awake. That was a healthy plan, wasn't it?
He has a feeling he knows what the caffeine is for, but he can't fault Wylan for the thought. He knows what lurks at the edge of consciousness and how the mind twists every worry and fear to somehow make them worse. He wouldn't mind staying awake as long as he was able either.
"I think, that sounds like a good plan..." It was something to occupy them both. A destination, a task--mundane, but enough to distract. "We can head there...see if there's anything we can scrounge up around? Not sure what materials they have, but I wouldn't mind getting my hands on something to work with..."
Distractions. Things that would keep his mind and idle hands occupied. Something that would keep the urge to continually reach out and touch Wylan at bay. He hadn't missed the way he jumped at any contact--and he'd have to be mindful of that.
"Yeah?" He smiles a little, sitting up straight. "Yeah. I'm sure we can find something. Come on, let's go downstairs and see what we can find."
Something to distract, something to help get his mind off of the facts - that's all this was. Between the caffeine and whatever they could find, it would be a worthwhile use of his focus. Much better than wallowing in his room wondering when the next Thing was going to happen.
He releases Jesper's hand and pushes himself to his feet. Once standing he offers his hand to Jesper to help him up. Wylan would get through this, he had to. Not just because he enjoyed it when Jesper touched him, but he can't let it beat him.
"Oh!" It dawns on him quickly. "How are Kaz's gloves coming along? I haven't asked you about those in a while."
He knows nothing is going to be fixed overnight. It may not really get quite "fixed", as Hell likes to keep reminding them. But that brief glint of a smile is more than a welcome sight. It's proof positive that something of Wylan hadn't shattered completely, that this recent terror could possibly be something they moved past.
"The gloves?" He asks as he takes Wylan's hand and gets up. "Made some headway before...the fog. I think I might be able to ask him for his pair to fix up soon. I want to get it right on the practice sets first."
Right. They had that project. He had almost forgotten in the state the fog and all its horrors had left him in.
"But...if you want something to tinker with. I still plan on sending Noah glitter bombs--even if he swears I don't actually owe him anything."
Not broken yet, but he's definitely frayed around the edges. He nods as Jesper rights himself to his feet and continues to hold his hand. Something about the simple action was grounding, and he just needed something keep him grounded. If holding Jesper's hand was working, you bet he's going to keep doing it.
He's alive. He's alive and it's okay, he tells himself again before he looks up at Jesper.
"That's good! It's getting colder so I figure it might be handy to get those done before it gets too cold." He points out. Especially with all of the test pairs, they could just gift them to the rest of the gang. There's a small pause before he can't help but laugh. "That's dangerous. Where are we going to find the glitter for something like that?"
Jesper doesn't say anything as Wylan continues holding his hand--if anything he grips it a bit tighter himself.
Grounding. Physical, and real, and here. Wylan might tense and jump at other touches for a time, but if he was at least allowed this? He'd take it.
"You just want to steal a pair for yourself when Hell freezes over." He teases, grateful for the chance to banter. It's easier, closer to normal. "As for the glitter...well that's why we're going 'shopping', right?"
"Maybe." He smiles a little more as he leads Jesper to the door. "I mean do you think Hell will actually freeze over?"
As for their shopping trip... Wylan rolls his eyes a little bit. He agreed to coffee, but maybe going out and actually doing something might be helpful to his mood. He opens the door with a nod.
"All right. Glitter and coffee." He says. "How explosive do you think we should make it?"
"I think Hell does whatever the fuck it wants, so if it wants to freeze...It'll try to give Fjerda a run for its money." He honestly wouldn't put it past this place to shove them all into a literal freezer if it struck its fancy.
"Coffee first. Then a glitter hunt." Because they both needed the break, the distraction from where conversations will inevitably lead when there was too much quiet. "As for explosive...go big? Get fancy with it."
"Fjerdan winters are no laughing matter either." He points out as he steps into the hall. "Should we go digging for warmer clothing too?"
He laughs lightly. "Maybe we should make that a priority over glitter first. So Coffee, warmer clothing, glitter, and all the components to make an explosive." He'd need to put together a list of items they'd need to accomplish it. "Does Noah know he's getting a glitter bomb?"
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He needed to be strong and not fall into despair, but boy was it difficult not to.
Wylan wasn't expecting to find Jesper at the door to his room when he opens it to leave, nearly leaping out of his skin at the sudden figure looming in the frame, heart racing from the memories of that night. His mind catches up to what his eyes are seeing, and he immediately sags with relief, bodily leaning against the door as he holds it open.
"Jesper." He says as if he's out of breath. "How long have you been there?"
As much as he wanted to hide away in his room forever and wallow, he didn't want Jesper to think he was ignoring him.
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Even more noticeable were the scars tracing their way up Wylan's neck, ending just under his jaw. Whatever had been chasing them couldn't have left those--he wouldn't ask what did that to him, there were too many possible answers. And Jesper...Jesper wasn't sure he wanted to know.
He doesn't answer his question. He's left staring for a moment, taking in Wylan's presence and the fact that he was there, solid and real--a bit more broken and scarred than Jesper would have ever wanted him to be in this place, but here. "Wylan..." It's a choked sound, heavy with relief and other twisted, tangled emotions. There's a beat of hesitation, thoughtful in not wanting to startle the other boy, but then he's moving forward and bundling Wylan up in his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry..."
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"It's not your fault." He says softly, quietly, as he presses his forehead against his shoulder. "It's not your fault."
It's not like they could have expected this to happen or at least, not as it did. Wylan just stands there, hiding his face against his neck, willing himself not to cry again. Waking up disoriented the second time after he died was- he shakes his head, pulling back enough to cup Jesper's face with his hands and look up at him.
"I'm alive," His voice quivers, his thumb running under Jesper's eye slowly. "I'm alive. See? It's okay."
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There are whispers that it isn't his fault, but that's not going to erase the guilt that sicks heavy in his chest. It isn't going to get rid of the memory of those screams, of turning in the lobby and not finding him there and knowing what happened beyond that door. He says nothing of that, only nods and tries to hide the grief as Wylan pulls back to look him in the eye.
"It's...better, but not okay." He admits quietly. He reaches up with one hand to cup Wylan's face, fingers tracing over scars that extend just a bit higher than the rest at his throat. "I tried to find you..."
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And then where would they be?
His whole body tenses again as Jesper's fingers trace over the scars on his neck, and he can feel the bile rising in his throat. Wylan's hands drop to his shirt, clutching tightly, doing his best to not jerk his head back to get him to stop touching them. He chews on his lips, swallowing down his nerves, tugging lightly on his shirt.
"You didn't have to look for me." And he wouldn't have wanted to be found again. Not after-- Not after-- He sighs. "I'm alive. It's okay. Let's just... focus on that."
Give him something else to focus on other than the fact that he's died.
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Worthwhile debt, in his opinion, if it kept Wylan from looking like that every time he touched him.
"But you're right...We should focus on where we are." Focus on something that didn't have either of them dead in the halls of this damned hotel. "I'm starting to think we should consider moving. For the record."
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He knows that Jesper would have gone looking for him, but that doesn't stop the fact that he would much rather have him stay safe when they were both trapped in the fog. He hates how he relaxes as his hands settle on his waist, wondering if this was going to be A Thing for him going forward. Maybe if he could just move past the memories, it would be easier. He knew death could be violent, but he never expected it to happen to him.
A miracle that it never happened in the Barrel and he knew why that was.
"I don't think moving out of the hotel is going to make things better." He sighs, his fingers relaxing against his chest. "I don't think it matters where we are, it's just going to be torture."
Why take the chance with moving if it meant that they would likely just be tormented either way?
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He glances down the hall, keenly aware that they were still in the open doorway of Wylan's suite. He gently nudges the other boy back into the entry, closing the door quietly behind them. He doesn't think anyone would be after them now, and certainly not any of the residents, but it still felt better to be out of general, public view.
"We keep going to find each other when things happen. We can't avoid danger, but...we can at least limit the risk if we get into a room together."
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It was a good idea considering it would be easier to stick together if they were already in the same room. The question was how would they be able to convince Lucifer to allow them to change rooms? He doesn't like the idea that they'd need to talk to Lucifer at all to do it.
"I don't like the idea of moving out of the hotel." He admits, finally releasing Jesper's shirt and moving to sit down on the couch in the suite. "Something about the housing outside of the hotel unnerves me."
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He follows Wylan deeper into the suite, taking up the space next to him on the couch. He normally gave space, but he's a bit reluctant to let Wylan stray too far out of sight right now--he's sure that will fade. Eventually.
"You sure that isn't the energy that is Kavinsky?" Jesper jokes softly, but he knows Wylan has his reasons to worry. "To be honest, the hotel itself is trouble enough. Whole houses? Free for the taking? You're probably right about there being something off there."
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Not that the hotel was much safer but something about Hellburbia just doesn't seem like it was an idyllic community. It takes him a moment, but he slowly leans over and rests his head against Jesper's shoulder, enjoying the closeness that they could share even in their own guilt and grief.
"I hate this place." He frowns, looping his arm around Jesper's as he keeps close. "I don't think you're meant to like it unless you thrive on violence and torture." Or the sex. He's pretty sure he does not want to know what happens in Club Penance.
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He sighs at Wylan's next observation, true as it may be. "If anyone likes this place, I'm making a point to stay far away from them." That was not the kind of person they needed to be dealing with on top of everything else. "The point, apparently, is supposed to be redemption. I'm not so sure it's actually obtainable."
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Then again, the fog may not have been Lucifer's doing, or even the Veiled Order's. Lilith was also trapped with them all and he doesn't think that she would be tortured with them. He huffs out a sigh, carefully moving to take hold of Jesper's hand for the added contact.
"Sorry I just, can't wrap my mind about what we've been through versus what the supposed end goal is." He's thought about it a lot too. "I think you're right about it not being obtainable."
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"I think...all we can do, is keep together. Keep each other grounded and take care of each other." It's how they'd managed to make it so far. He was going to put some faith into that if only because it was the only thing worth putting his faith into.
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Not that he was entirely comfortable with the idea, but it was a solid idea never-the-less. Wylan is grateful that Jesper was someone who could ground him, only briefly wondering what Hell would be like if he wasn't around.
"Are you staying the night?" He asks, changing the subject.
Could he actually handle Jesper in his bed tonight? Their closeness was fine for now, but if he started to touch his neck again, he's not sure he could handle it. He hates the idea that he couldn't handle Jesper even touching him. He unconsciously touches his neck, his breathing quickening slightly.
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He doesn't like what this place is doing to the boy in front of him. There had always been a nervous quality to Wylan, no doubt the result of years under his father's tutorage and scorn. But this was something more, something visceral and dark.
Jesper doesn't like it at all. But he says nothing of it either.
"Do you want me to?" It's a whisper, gentle. He wants to stay, wants the assurance that comes with having Wylan close and not--But he wouldn't force it either. It's obvious Wylan has his own nightmares and scars to deal with. If he felt he needed to do that alone, well he wasn't going to argue.
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"Yes, of course." He whispers back, slowly removing his hand from this throat. "I want you to stay."
He doesn't think he can do this alone. Not yet, not when it's still so raw. What sort of nightmares would sleep bring? He wasn't certain and Wylan doesn't wish to speculate on what his dreams will bring. He's already reliving his deaths every time he looks in the mirror. At least, he thinks, he only has a reminder of one of them.
"What do you want to do in the meantime?" He asks, gripping Jesper's hand tighter. "I was thinking we could grab some coffee from the lobby... At least that was my plan anyway."
Coffee to keep himself awake. That was a healthy plan, wasn't it?
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"I think, that sounds like a good plan..." It was something to occupy them both. A destination, a task--mundane, but enough to distract. "We can head there...see if there's anything we can scrounge up around? Not sure what materials they have, but I wouldn't mind getting my hands on something to work with..."
Distractions. Things that would keep his mind and idle hands occupied. Something that would keep the urge to continually reach out and touch Wylan at bay. He hadn't missed the way he jumped at any contact--and he'd have to be mindful of that.
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Something to distract, something to help get his mind off of the facts - that's all this was. Between the caffeine and whatever they could find, it would be a worthwhile use of his focus. Much better than wallowing in his room wondering when the next Thing was going to happen.
He releases Jesper's hand and pushes himself to his feet. Once standing he offers his hand to Jesper to help him up. Wylan would get through this, he had to. Not just because he enjoyed it when Jesper touched him, but he can't let it beat him.
"Oh!" It dawns on him quickly. "How are Kaz's gloves coming along? I haven't asked you about those in a while."
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"The gloves?" He asks as he takes Wylan's hand and gets up. "Made some headway before...the fog. I think I might be able to ask him for his pair to fix up soon. I want to get it right on the practice sets first."
Right. They had that project. He had almost forgotten in the state the fog and all its horrors had left him in.
"But...if you want something to tinker with. I still plan on sending Noah glitter bombs--even if he swears I don't actually owe him anything."
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He's alive. He's alive and it's okay, he tells himself again before he looks up at Jesper.
"That's good! It's getting colder so I figure it might be handy to get those done before it gets too cold." He points out. Especially with all of the test pairs, they could just gift them to the rest of the gang. There's a small pause before he can't help but laugh. "That's dangerous. Where are we going to find the glitter for something like that?"
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Grounding. Physical, and real, and here. Wylan might tense and jump at other touches for a time, but if he was at least allowed this? He'd take it.
"You just want to steal a pair for yourself when Hell freezes over." He teases, grateful for the chance to banter. It's easier, closer to normal. "As for the glitter...well that's why we're going 'shopping', right?"
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As for their shopping trip... Wylan rolls his eyes a little bit. He agreed to coffee, but maybe going out and actually doing something might be helpful to his mood. He opens the door with a nod.
"All right. Glitter and coffee." He says. "How explosive do you think we should make it?"
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"Coffee first. Then a glitter hunt." Because they both needed the break, the distraction from where conversations will inevitably lead when there was too much quiet. "As for explosive...go big? Get fancy with it."
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He laughs lightly. "Maybe we should make that a priority over glitter first. So Coffee, warmer clothing, glitter, and all the components to make an explosive." He'd need to put together a list of items they'd need to accomplish it. "Does Noah know he's getting a glitter bomb?"
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