Room 324, Tuesday Afternoon

[wwiii]

Okay. Things. There were things happening, and Warren needed to... to do something about them. Frat had been skipped last week because of the holiday, and this week, after losing his entire world, he just hadn't had it in him to coordinate anything resembling fun and games. He'd meant to go to the library to help research over the weekend, and that hadn't happened, and he couldn't really remember the last time he'd eaten, though he was vaguely aware of stumbling off to raid common room fridges at least a couple of times in there.

It was stupid. He hadn't so much as thought about going home in the past two years, and now that it was gone...

He needed to be doing things, but he had no idea where to start. So he just kind of cuddled Thor and stared at the ceiling.

When had moping in his room alone with a bunny become the status quo, anyhow?

[Open post, closed door, IDEK. Someone smack him or something.]

Comments

[life_inshadow]

Tara wouldn't smack anyone, but she hadn't been doing so great either. Her world still seemed to be fine, which was giving her .... some weird kind of survivor guilt. And she'd been looking through her spellbooks for so long that her eyes were about to bust into flames.

She needed to talk to somebody, and she had a feeling from the latest notes on the board that Warren might be in an even worse situation.

Tentatively, she tapped on Warren's door. "It's Tara," she called through it. "I can come back if this is a stupid time. Or if you aren't there, but if you aren't there you ... just won't answer. Right?"

[wwiii]

"Right," came a muffled kind of answer through Warren's door. Okay... Tara. Tara was cool. She was quiet and understanding and she'd even given him an out if he wasn't up for talking (which he'd blown, but that was fine), and... Really, Warren didn't want to be alone so much, anyhow. "... You can come in, if you want."

No, Warren. She clearly wanted to stand in the hallway.

[life_inshadow]

There had been many times when Tara opted for the standing in the hallway plan, actually. Many, many times. Though this was not to be one of them.

"Hi," she said, slipping through the door. "How are you doing? It's been --"

She was about to say rough when she spotted a flash of fluff.

"Oh, hi, Bobby's bunny!"

[wwiii]

Thor, in true bunny fashion, twitched his nose in reply.

Warren kind of blinked down at him, and then tried to work his way up to a smile that just wasn't making it.

"Thor," he shared. "Bobby... left him here, when he... you know... went back. So he's been keeping me company. He's a good roommate. Quiet, you know?"

[life_inshadow]

"Yeah, my room was all mine for ... about a year before Natalie moved in," Tara shared. (Not that Natalie was such a huge talker anyhow.) "I liked having my cat. It made things a little more, um, quiet but not too-quiet."

She gave him a slightly more genuine smile, attempting to be reassuring. "It's been a rotten week, huh?"

[wwiii]

"Rotten is a mild way of putting it," Warren murmured, sighing a little and trying not to let too much of his misery seep into his voice. "I didn't even know there was something wrong with my world until Wesley and I offered to call one another's dads to check up on them. His was fine, though..."

He sounded torn, on that last bit. On the one hand, he was so, so thankful that Wesley didn't have to deal with his family just... not being there. On the other hand, what made him so special?

[life_inshadow]

Tara didn't want to admit that her own family still seemed to be okay, too. it would be salt in the wound.

"It's weird," she said instead. "It's taking everything from some of us, but from others, just these ... random little bits. Like it's trying to see what would hurt most." She glanced over, then down at her hands. "And I'm sorry."

[wwiii]

"Whatever it is, it's doing a good job," Warren murmured softly, before looking up at her. "And, it's... well... it's not fine, obviously. It's pretty far from fine, but it isn't like you have anything to be sorry about. Nobody does. Not unless we find out somebody caused this or something, I guess."

[life_inshadow]

"I can't find anything with enough power," Tara said, restlessly. "You can do memory spells. Gods can even destroy worlds. But ... this? Whatever it is, I -- I worry we can't beat it."

She sighed. "I'm not very good at cheering people up."

[wwiii]

"It's okay. I'm... not all that sure I want to be cheered up so much right now, anyhow." The room was silent for a moment while Warren chewed the inside of his cheek. "It has to start somewhere, or stop somewhere, but we don't have any way to figure out where it came from in the first place, do we?"

A pause.

"I just mean... if something is causing it, they wouldn't destroy themselves in order to take everything else out. I think."

[life_inshadow]

Tara shook her head slightly. "The dates on the board are pretty ... clumpy," she said. "It seems like it ... kinda started everywhere, and then got a lot worse really suddenly. Except for Kennedy, anyhow."

She added wistfully, "I wish I thought it wouldn't destroy itself, too. This kind of anger ... it's got to poison you."

[wwiii]

"Anger kind of has a way of doing that," Warren murmured. "Hollowing you out. I don't know if it's really productive or if it hurts anything even more in the end, but it has to be better than moping."

Warren's experience with moping so far was just that it made it difficult to think.

[life_inshadow]

"I dunno," Tara murmured. "It's hard to tell people how to react, you know? I haven't ... lost a world."

[wwiii]

Warren sat in silence at that for a minute, shrugging and barely refraining from just balling himself up to bury his face in Thor's fur. It was sorely tempting, but it wouldn't do anybody any good.

"If this goes on long enough, maybe you'll get to find out what it's like."

Lucky Tara.

[life_inshadow]

"Lucky, lucky me," Tara said, and sighed, and leaned back against a bed. "Sorry. Wasn't trying to -- poke at you. Hug?"

It was what she had.

[wwiii]

He'd take it.

"Hug," he replied softly, with a tired little nod to go with it while he relocated the bunny to the bed so that he could get up.

Hugging was good.

[life_inshadow]

Tara clung for a long moment, leaning against Warren's shoulder. "I think this is the worst thing," she said softly. "Worse than the jhinkas. At least that was fast. At least it wasn't home."

[wwiii]

"The Jhinka were bad," Warren murmured, hanging on for dear life for a minute before finally easing back a little. "But they weren't an entire world. Even Agio had survivors."

Not... many. But some.

[life_inshadow]

"We don't know for sure there isn't anybody else," Tara said desperately. "Maybe there are ... astronauts. Something. People who don't have phones."

She was not the most convincing person ever, no.

[wwiii]

Warren managed a smile at that which really had no mirth to it at all.

"I guess if it comes here next, we'll have to lose our telephones so that we can be immune too, huh?"

[life_inshadow]

Tara sniffled. "Should we dump our phones in the water, just in case?"

[wwiii]

"Thought about it," Warren admitted. "But... I don't want to miss any calls, either."

Just in case.

[life_inshadow]

"I know what you mean," Tara admitted back to him. She still called Kennedy ever few days, just in case. "Um ... anybody in particular you'd like to have call you?"

[wwiii]

"I'm not sure," Warren replied quietly. "I think most of the calls coming through these days are the ones that don't mean anything good. But I wouldn't mind some good news from Bobby. I've been worried about him since he left."

[life_inshadow]

Tara frowned. "I didn't realize he wasn't in touch at all."