[That wasn't one of the questions CT had them memorize. That means he has to come up with a real answer. Ephemera touches his knuckles to his mouth briefly, wishing he had a cigarette. Something to focus on. But his ribs are busted up and he's not allowed to smoke until they're healed. Drake would worry.]
I fuck up, it falls back on people around me.
[He flexes his hand briefly, feeling out the splint. The ache from his snapped fingers.]
[That is absolutely not the answer Lance is looking for, and not just in what he would've preferred to hear but at all; he almost tells Ephemera that he'd just done exactly the opposite of what he'd asked, because ultimately that answer is very much about how it affects Ephemera.
It takes a lot of effort, though, for Lance to keep that comment to himself, and between that and the now pounding headache he realizes that he's reached the point where he needs to stop. He understands his own limits and how far he can push them, and this is the boundary to still leave this entire meeting on a somewhat useful note.]
I'm going to ask you to think about your answer, and what the question was.
[He can say it calmly, because he's made a decision now to end the discussion and so some of the stress of it backs off.]
But for now, I with that and everything else, you have a lot to think about. You should also get some rest because broken ribs can lead to complications very quickly, especially here.
[He knows that from experience, even if he voided the worst of them while here himself. And all of that said, he gets to his feet, a clear indication--if what he said wasn't already--that the conversation is over with for now.]
[What the question was? Okay. He can think about that.
Ephemera nods uncertainly. He's missing something, he's fairly certain, but asking to get it spelled out feels risky. Other people do this, talking shit out, drawing useful conclusions, and sometimes it works when he talks with Drake. It seemed to do something - even if it was very small - when he spoke with Kyna last.]
Okay.
[He hesitates a moment, then waves his hand vaguely at Sweets. The sketch.]
Tell me. If I made mistakes. And I'll fix it.
[It seems to go better when he draws things for people. It means more.]
[He'd almost forgotten about the folded paper in his pocket, but he nods at Ephemera's words.]
I will.
[And with another nod, this time of farewell, he'll let himself out of the apartment. Now to take a short break and then get back to the Clinic, and see what else needs to be done.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-11-02 08:29 pm (UTC)I fuck up, it falls back on people around me.
[He flexes his hand briefly, feeling out the splint. The ache from his snapped fingers.]
This? Hnn. Don't care. Care about them.
no subject
Date: 2017-11-02 08:41 pm (UTC)It takes a lot of effort, though, for Lance to keep that comment to himself, and between that and the now pounding headache he realizes that he's reached the point where he needs to stop. He understands his own limits and how far he can push them, and this is the boundary to still leave this entire meeting on a somewhat useful note.]
I'm going to ask you to think about your answer, and what the question was.
[He can say it calmly, because he's made a decision now to end the discussion and so some of the stress of it backs off.]
But for now, I with that and everything else, you have a lot to think about. You should also get some rest because broken ribs can lead to complications very quickly, especially here.
[He knows that from experience, even if he voided the worst of them while here himself. And all of that said, he gets to his feet, a clear indication--if what he said wasn't already--that the conversation is over with for now.]
no subject
Date: 2017-11-02 08:48 pm (UTC)Ephemera nods uncertainly. He's missing something, he's fairly certain, but asking to get it spelled out feels risky. Other people do this, talking shit out, drawing useful conclusions, and sometimes it works when he talks with Drake. It seemed to do something - even if it was very small - when he spoke with Kyna last.]
Okay.
[He hesitates a moment, then waves his hand vaguely at Sweets. The sketch.]
Tell me. If I made mistakes. And I'll fix it.
[It seems to go better when he draws things for people. It means more.]
no subject
Date: 2017-11-02 09:30 pm (UTC)I will.
[And with another nod, this time of farewell, he'll let himself out of the apartment. Now to take a short break and then get back to the Clinic, and see what else needs to be done.]