BBS/Action (current day)

[thatched]

Hey, Cutie. Thanks for the bento! It was ridiculously adorable of you.

Love, Thatch.


[to anyone who wants to happen upon the Thatchinator, he'll be sitting in the quad, enjoying his meal]

Comments

[espio]

No.

[But he shuffles a little, and shows Thatch his back. On his right shoulder, there's not quite a tattoo - it's a pattern he taught himself to hold - an image of a crocodile, bee, and armadillo in the style reminiscent of Grecian urns.]

These guys come first. Always.

[thatched]

Ally then. [he waves a hand.] The point is, Marco believes in you, and if you weren't good enough for Toby, you can bet he would have let you know it.

[espio]

I guess.

[But he doesn't look particularly encouraged.]

They'll always come first, but they... they've also been dead a good few years.

[thatched]

....I'm sorry, matey. [and what more can he really say to that? Losing anyone is hard, even when you're not around for the losing]

[espio]

'S'fine.

Long time ago and all that.

But I think that's why Marco's so insistent on dragging me home with him. My world doesn't exist anymore, and neither do my friends. If Time Compression were to ever kick me out of this world, if I ended up back in my own time, I'd wind up in a void and die instantly.

Not a great thing to look forward to, y'know?

[He doesn't normally talk about it so easily, but given that this guy is supposed to be family or whatever, well... he'll find out eventually anyway.

Besides, time makes it easier to talk about, he just doesn't want the entire damn Garden knowing about it.]

[thatched]

Yeah.

[He has no home to go back to. He's alone. The perfect candidate for being taken in. For going to that place and living the seas. Gaining a family. Thatch put his focus on that. Took every last bit of compassion he had to put his focus on the fact that Espio had nowhere else to go--

To try to curtail the quiet cold rage that trembled up his spine and tightened like a cold fist over his heart.

Marco was taking Espio home because he could go. Because he could actually exist. But couldn't bend the laws of time and space otherwise unless he was some kind of damn reaper, only existing on the death of others. Otherwise stay here in this meaningless existence when the only thing he wanted was something Espio could have and for one shining splintering moment--

He understood Marshall completely.

And hated himself for it, dark loathing curling in his throat.]

You'll have a good time there.

[the warm voice sounded like it was coming from someone else, not this cold blistering thing that he'd become.]

Anyway, thanks for the meal. It was great.

[espio]

Don't need to thank me. Nobody else does - this is the first time anyone's even said anything.

[thatched]

I'll thank you anyway, if it's all the same.

[ah shit. His throat his starting to close and his palms are getting damp. Fucking hell]

See you around.

[and shoving his hands in his pockets he starts back to his room before he breaks down completely]