Simon Monroe (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
irishrotter) wrote2015-04-19 08:15 pm
irishrotter) wrote2015-04-19 08:15 pm
Ninth Rising
[Friends filter, after the port]
[This broadcast is a little bit delayed compared to most of the others, like there's something Simon needed to do prior to checking in. Still, he looks as worried and relieved as everyone else when he does reach out to his friends.
No one will be surprised to know that neither Arthas nor Sylvanas remain on this list.]
Tell me you're all okay.
[Spam, open]
[Simon's communicator remains quiet after that. He answers his messages in a generally timely fashion, but there are no further broadcasts. The lack of sermons from the pulpit continues as it did after the sha took him over; he has no sermons to give. He's not suffering from the aches and pains of those who death tolled on the Barge, but he feels an echo of their weary faces in his own soul. He feels exhausted, too, even if it's a different kind of exhaustion.
On the surface, nothing has changed except that he has an emergency supply of neurotriptyline on him at all times now -- and thank Christ, only a few people know about that, anyway. Beyond that, though, he feels almost as lost and aimless as he was out in the desert. He shuffles along his daily routine. He takes his shot obediently when he wakes up, spends his mornings in the chapel and his afternoons in the library and doesn't really seem to bother with anything else, though he does still sometime turns up on the deck in the evenings to watch the stars go by.]
[This broadcast is a little bit delayed compared to most of the others, like there's something Simon needed to do prior to checking in. Still, he looks as worried and relieved as everyone else when he does reach out to his friends.
No one will be surprised to know that neither Arthas nor Sylvanas remain on this list.]
Tell me you're all okay.
[Spam, open]
[Simon's communicator remains quiet after that. He answers his messages in a generally timely fashion, but there are no further broadcasts. The lack of sermons from the pulpit continues as it did after the sha took him over; he has no sermons to give. He's not suffering from the aches and pains of those who death tolled on the Barge, but he feels an echo of their weary faces in his own soul. He feels exhausted, too, even if it's a different kind of exhaustion.
On the surface, nothing has changed except that he has an emergency supply of neurotriptyline on him at all times now -- and thank Christ, only a few people know about that, anyway. Beyond that, though, he feels almost as lost and aimless as he was out in the desert. He shuffles along his daily routine. He takes his shot obediently when he wakes up, spends his mornings in the chapel and his afternoons in the library and doesn't really seem to bother with anything else, though he does still sometime turns up on the deck in the evenings to watch the stars go by.]
[spam]
I don't know.
[And then again, louder.]
I don't know, Tiffany. I told you -- I don't have any answers.
[Or maybe that's wrong. Maybe it's that he has too many, all crowding in against each other in his mind. He wants to trust the Admiral, the Barge, the idea that they're all here to help people and not just to imprison them. He'd thought, when he first arrived, that he'd never put anyone in Zero at all. But he wants Arthas gone, too, and even Arthas himself wants to be gone. Why not give him exactly what he wants?
Hell, why not throw him off the damn side?]
[spam]
[She's silent for a moment. Then:]
You're having a tough time, too.
[Tougher than her, maybe - or at least it's been going on for longer, and may very well last longer too.]
[spam]
I'm sorry. I wish I knew what to do, Tiffany -- I really do. I thought... I didn't think something like this could happen here.
[spam]
[And she means that. She was never really mad at any wardens in particular - she was mad at wardens as a group. And right now, Simon isn't even included in that, in her mind.]
I wish I could help you.
[spam]
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Re: [spam]
Like Dr. Cambridge?
[spam]
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I thought Arthas was a friend.
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[He sighs.]
Unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be making it any easier.
[spam]
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Do you believe in this place now, Tiffany?
[spam]
I believe in you.
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In what? What do you think I'll do?
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That won't ever change. I'll always try to be good to you.
[Maybe that's enough. Maybe he can make it be enough.]
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