rp post

[excontractu]

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[excontractu]

I realized . . . it's not like I have anything outside of work.

Don't cry.

[selfdissecting]

I am not.

[ though her ponytail has that oily, sticky look to it ]

And I do not know what you want me to say.

[ Maeve breathes her work. it's sincerely all she has since Bugsy left ]

[excontractu]

Why do you think I want you to say anything in particular?

[selfdissecting]

[ wanted Ivan to say something
and now it's her job to say things, fix things

neither of those can make it past the lump in her throat, so she's just painfully voiceless for a while ]




...I don't know. I'm sorry.

[excontractu]

You know you don't have to pretend to like me.

[selfdissecting]

[ cracks appear ]

Pascal.

[excontractu]

You don't.

[selfdissecting]

[ and something breaks. tears anew, oozing from every eye, while Maeve stands and chihuahua trembles in place ]

You are the only friend I even have!

[ she gasps, instantly awash in a pitiful fear, a drowning shame, and she turns and fumbles blindly for the doorknob. escape, escape, escape escape escape escape escape ]

[excontractu]

That's just not true. Lysander is your friend. Tandy is your friend. Ivan, I'm sure, at least does not want you to die.

[selfdissecting]

[ her voice changes; still small, but hoarse and low instead of high and thin ]

I work with them, I work with them. I have died because I work with them. I do not know who they are, they don't talk to me, we just do bad things together.

[ just like always.

and she's lost like half the sheaf of papers just from the shaking, so down to her knees to scrounge them back together. try not to cry on them, Maeve—that'd be just what you need right now, is to ruin them with oil spots ]

[excontractu]

Why do you do bad things?

[selfdissecting]

I don't know. I don't know! We were supposed to be Fixing things, but all I have done is get mugged and die and kill Tandy and make deals with liches, and we sent someone to the Dreamlands who might never have been able to come back without Wren.

[ she wipes her nose on her sleeve and it's gross and leaves a stain ]

—And set fire to a circus! All the worst people have us on retainer, and they don't care, they don't weigh what it means to contract with the Faceless, they don't worry about sending Hester to the Dreamlands or giving the RIPD to Tascheron for an "interview". They don't even care about going to Dylath-Leen over and over and having to kill ourselves to get back or else have Wren suffer for us. I can't do this on my own. So I do what they are alright with doing, and it's... this.




...They didn't even choose to be here. They were just chosen to be here.

[excontractu]

[roughly] Vesper and Phosphor have got to have a plan. The Partners have got to have a plan.

[selfdissecting]

[ "they are incredible..." a Christmas party from what feels like eons ago ]

I don't want this plan. I want what's gone. Before this partnership. Doing good work.

When you liked having lunch with me.

[ too much. too open. she stops grasping for papers and just goes still on her hands and knees on the floor, screwing her eyes shut. red ladybird. green caterpillar. blue butterfly. green honeybee. breathe in.................. out ]

[excontractu]

If I doubt them, I have literally nothing. So I just . . .

C'mon. Get up?

[selfdissecting]

[ she pushes herself to her knees, kneeling there while she calms the tremors. everything back underneath. out of the way, neat, unseen...

but it doesn't want to go quiet ]

I'm not your friend. Am I, Pascal?

[excontractu]

I always sort of thought you were. But lately I figured you might be getting sick of me.

[selfdissecting]

[ i don't want to do this ]

I only have bad news for you anymore. You always look like you were waiting for the worst whenever I come around... with everyone.

[ the sociopath babysitter ]

[excontractu]

That's not your fault.

[selfdissecting]

[ Maeve finally straightens a bit more, gripping the edge of his desk with near-naked fingers. not nearly so many rings as there used to be. still can't bear to look at him, either ]

Well. That's still how it was.

[excontractu]

Obviously I don't blame you.

[selfdissecting]

[ achy. ]

I miss... you. Will those days go away forever?

[excontractu]

I don't really know.

[selfdissecting]

[ haha. ouch. ]

But... don't forget them. Okay?

[excontractu]

I don't want them to be over.