wedonot | EIGHTEEN ✖ VOICE/SPAM

[Private to the Admiral]

I'm still waiting on an answer. [He'll send daily messages until he gets a response. :|]

[Spam for the Deck]

[It wasn't really unusual for Charles to feel some level of isolation from other people, humans and mutants alike, especially recently - had Cuba really already been nearly seven months ago? - and it had really only gotten worse since he'd arrived on the Barge.

And honestly, he didn't really mind. The isolation came more from a place of what people expected from him than because he was different or whatever else. He was supposed to be the mature one, the person with all the answers, who couldn't be vulnerable because everyone else needed a rock to lean on when their worlds were spiraling out of control. And he was happy to be that person for whoever needed it.

But it made days like today difficult, because he wanted someone to talk to about all of this, and while months ago he would have approached Erik without hesitation, he felt like he couldn't be honest with him anymore, even besides the fact that a large part of what was weighing on Charles had to do with him.

So he'd decided he couldn't take just sitting around in his room anymore and headed up to the deck. Months ago, he might have gone for a run, but that obviously wasn't an option anymore, and so he just stopped a few feet away from the deck railing, watching their progress through space. After a few minutes, he slowly started relaxing his telepathic control, not enough to be noticeable by most people, probably. Just enough to make sure no one could sneak up on him and take some of the tension off. Keeping himself fully pulled back was almost like keeping a muscle tensed indefinitely, and he needed the reprieve, however slight it actually was.]

Threaded | Flat

I'm ever so sorry. Did you ask a question?

[Merlin's not up to much of anything when he reaches the deck. It's been a few days of hard research since he spoke to Claudia about Willow, and - even at home, returning a soul to something soulless would be a tremendous undertaking. Doing it on the Barge, a place whose motto could be You Can Try But It Probably Won't Work Or Stay Worked, just fills him with anxiousness. The 'best' thing he might do is accidentally kill her, and it sickens him to think that the Barge has made that the best case scenario, but - at least she'll survive it ultimately.

The worst case scenario is...well. His mind drifts back to the previous October. Who knows what the worst case scenario is.

Generally speaking he's just a ball of tightly wound nervous energy, and he's not paying attention to very much around him. His mood brightens a little when he sees Charles and then dims slightly again when he remembers what he's going through as regards his friend.]

[Arthur has no real reason to be up there, besides maybe morbid curiosity that he won't ever admit to with how they are able to breathe being this close to the stars, and a mixture of needing a distraction from The Morgana issue. It doesn't take him long to spot Charles up there, and that's also a suitable distraction.]

"Hello Charles."

[Often on the deck, this one is. He likes to watch the stars. You don't get vistas like this in the city where he's from, after all - the city lights drown them out.

He's a telepath as well, anyhow, and even with his powers suppressed by the Barge he can sort of feel Charles letting himself relax a bit.

He waffles back and forth over whether or not to respond at all. He'd conceal himself usually. But he's so bored here and even more lonely (not that he'd admit it) than he was at home, in a sense - no Mr. H to talk to, no city to watch over and keep busy with. So that much pushes him to speak up, so to speak.]

Letting your hair down, hm?

Private

spammmm

i guess you are being spammed by the merlin bros :c

telepathy;