So I haven't, uh, used this a lot. Much.
[He knows how it works! Patrick simply very rarely has anything important to say, or anything he thinks is important enough to bug people over. But he's getting itchy, restless and (more) discontented with himself, even with a nice girl to lend him a shoulder and company.]Name's Patrick, Pat is okay too
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[Guilty girl is feeling guilty.]
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[Guilty ex-zombie killer is drunk and guilty and regretting bringing up the topic if it makes Grapple sad.]
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[There is nothing in her tone to suggest she doesn't believe everything she's just said.]
I mean, one of my best friends from home is here but I'd do just about anything to see Fred again, or to fight with Ska or yell at Gustav for knowing more than he should and... I'm talking too much.
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[Patrick swallows past the lump in his throat.]
You can't talk too much.
[Emphasis on the 'you'.]
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And no. I don't.
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Oh.
[To be completely honest, Patrick didn't believe they could, either. It was a frankly pathetic attempt at optimism when the whole issue with his drinking himself into a stupor is because he's too much of a depressing lug to guiltlessly get his hopes up. He doesn't hold the blunt reply against him.]
Guess we can't know for sure, anyhow.
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... He never used to do that before Halloween.]
Why would we? You heard them. All our... everything is gone. Why the fuck would one person... one other person... get out?
[This may or may not be a touchy subject.]
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... Not arguin'. You could be right, I don't even know what to think, barely.
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Me, too. I, uh, I'm not a dad, but I got three sisters and they... they didn't deserve what I did.
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But- maybe if there are so many worlds out there, versions of us, maybe we fixed it in those.
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God, she misses them both so much.]
I do, but I'm sure we will see them again!
[Hopefully.]
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[Even if Patrick's belief has waned.]
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[The Freedom Fighter quietly introduces himself. He hadn't been shy, merely suspicious of the technology and mysterious residents to avoid his own communications device. Now that it seems he's going to disappear from existence on this spirits forsaken vessel regardless, he at least wants to be remembered.]
"Got plenty of that; some of em, here. Me, I had a group of companions I left behind. I promised I'd keep them safe, but I failed in that before the Captain scooped me up. They were proud and strong, I have no doubt they did fine without me."
[For how long the world held together for them to do for, is an thought Jet refuses to acknowledge]
"My question... Did avoiding that confrontation help any? Was being here instead of there to face the problem ever something you considered good?"
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He labors to think up a coherent reply, scrubbing over his face with the back of his hand, gripping the neck of a beer with the other.]
Avoiding them was the problem, I guess. So being here-- being here isn't doing nothing but the same.
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[Jet tilts his head down a little at that. He's not sure what else he'd been expecting to hear.]
"Everyone I talk to expects me to be grateful the Captain saved us, heh, but to me it just feels like the problem is worse."
[He shakes his head in bitterness, trying to hold onto his recent train of thought- the healthier one that isn't consumed by hate.]
"Still, I guess... no matter what we left back home, what's here in front of us is what's important now. Maybe we'll see those people again, and maybe we won't. You and I just have to make sure we don't repeat ourselves in the meantime, right?"
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