raianet | text ↪ un: weaverville

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text ↪ un: weaverville

Hey so

I've been screwing around with the network connecting the communications devices a little. I know there's no Spotify here, no internet, not a lot of music, which sucks. My MP3 player came here with me, so I figured maybe some people might like to have at least a few options. It might not necessarily be to everyone's taste, but it's better than nothing (probably).

I've uploaded the contents to the database, you should be able to access it or send/receive songs at any time.

Turns out they already had some music on there too, so you can poke around theirs and see if you find something you like more. I haven't gotten to go through it all, but at least some of it looks like 21st century Earth stuff.

Sidenote: you're welcome to criticize the contents of my MP3 player, just know that I've never felt shame in my life & I can and will sing all of these karaoke style to your face. IDK if you really want to live through that experience.

( feel free to threadjack as you like )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Um, yeah.

( He breathes, glancing around like he's only just realized that statement for himself now that it's been pointed out.

Turns out if you just start working, that kind of happens. )

What about you? Find a regular hammock? Pick out your next half-dozen psychoanalysis victims yet?

Don't even talk to me about the hammocks.

[In other words, no, he hasn't found a regular hammock and in fact has been doing very little sleeping anywhere near them. This whole communal thing is killing him already.]

As for psychoanalysis victims, no, I've been kind of... Anti-social, I guess. I've just been working at the aid station a lot.

( And here it finally is, the concern Ian should have had days and days ago only just now kicking in. A good chunk of the humor fades out, back to baseline — which would be pretty difficult to parse for anyone else, but Lance can probably see through it by now for what it really is. )

Burnt out? Or just having a rocky time with the adjustment?

[He can definitely feel that sudden shift, and although he's purposefully been choosing not to be as evasive as he normally is, he also didn't want to particularly worry Ian either. It also doesn't help that he doesn't exactly know how to describe how he's feeling--or rather, he does, but it's complicated and a lot to go into--and so after a moment he just offers a small shrug.]

Both, I guess. I just...

[He hesitates, again trying to decide how honest to be, before finally offering something that's only a fraction of the problem but is truthful.]

I'm just really tired of doing this over and over again.

['This' being the adjustment period in which it's a scramble to figure out the situation and how best to approach and handle it, but also 'this' in the sense of all of it. This is the third time, and he's starting to believe the cycle might wind up being endless.]

( He presses his lips together into something tight and sympathetic. Have some rare, real empathy: )

Yeah, man. I get that.

( They're not exactly lined up. Ian's only been to two, he thinks this is Lance's third, but... in a way, transitioning into the apocalypse was a lot like transitioning into a new world altogether. Different rules, different people, different communication methods. Insanity, chaos, fear, relocation. That one was harder than New Amsterdam by a mile. This one is shaping up to be harder too, though thankfully not as bad as the first six months after contact. )

Probably a lot harder to let yourself get attached now, huh?

( That one's more a guess than a direct understanding. New Amsterdam was his first time getting attached in going on two decades, almost. Basically half the people he was attached to came with him.

Then again, the job... the apartment... his life...

Still, he's only had to give it all up once so far. )

[Attachment isn't exactly the issue, but it isn't not an issue either, just a lesser one; still, Ian isn't wrong, but it also says something about Ian's own struggle that that's what he's guessing. It's something Lance makes note of for future reference, but for now only agrees with with a small nod and a hint of a shrug as he crosses his arms.

His gaze is on the phones now, instead of Ian.]

Yeah, that sucks, but it's more like...

[He hesitates, suddenly unsure that he actually wants to be this open, and changes course.]

It's fine. The first week or so is just particularly difficult.

Edited (everything sucks goddamnit) 2021-06-08 03:06 (UTC)

( Attachment isn't necessarily at the very top of Ian's list of issues - though it's not too far down. It just seemed like one of the easiest, most obvious conclusions to draw to get Lance talking.

Swing and a miss, apparently.

Ian levels him with a patient but pointed look. )

Come on, man. You really gonna do me like that?

( Start and then reel back to make a hard left?

Like he wouldn't be a complete hypocrite and do exactly the same thing. )

Edited (This is why I don't mobile tag ) 2021-06-08 03:24 (UTC)

[He's not even a little surprised at being called out, but instead what he feels in response is a mix of annoyance at not being able to just get away with it and appreciation that Ian cares. Again, the struggle of having friends.

He could continue to deflect, or even turn it around back on Ian, and both are really tempting options. But instead he firmly tells himself that isn't the way to handle it, and there's silence for several seconds before he does finally respond.]

It just takes a lot, and I don't have it right now.

[Energy, motivation, willpower, whatever. He doesn't have enough of any of it for this adjustment period not to feel like an insurmountable obstacle, and so for the most part he's just been sort of on autopilot at a suitable mental distance.]

( The struggle of having friends indeed. For what it's worth, he appreciates the honesty. He's been a little siloed within himself, a little disconnected. It doesn't help that they don't really get any free time, most of what he spends with Nate is around bedtime. There's him, there's Lance, and that's it. Not enough time to build any new connections, and not enough drive to bother, because... Well, see: attachment issues.

This weirdly helps. Maybe reinforces the fact that he's not actually alone. )

Is there anything I can do to help? Hugs, drugs, twenty foot sex robot? Blatantly manipulate you into actually talking about it even though you don't want to because we both know it would help, and you're way too good at this for me to bother actually trying to be subtle?

[That last comment earns another weak but genuine laugh, and although he doesn't uncross his arms, they do loosen a little and he manages to drag his gaze back to Ian instead of the phones.]

You'd talked about working on a fix for the sleeping situation, so if that's still on your list of projects...

[He's too introverted for this 'around people 24/7' thing to work, and honestly if he got a little more sleep he'd probably be handling all of this a lot better.

But more seriously--]

I probably should talk about it, but there's no single 'it'. There's just a whole list of things and they're all tangled together and neither of us has all day for my emotional problems, so that'll have to wait.

[It's honest, even if it's also an evasion. At least he's not denying there's issues anymore, so that's something. Sort of.]

( He sighs unhappily, glancing back at his desk like it has something to contribute to the conversation. )

I'm... I started drawing up floor plans. I planned to- I'm going to make us a place that's private. It's just that somebody else spotted them and got really... Tense about prioritizing ourselves over the bunker situation. I have to finish that first, I think, because it'll make us all look better to the locals. As soon as that's done, I should be able to finish up phase one for move-in. Maybe... Two months?

( Which is way too long to his introverted brain too, but... It is what it is. They need to be accepted into the community here. )

But that means pretty much all I can do is strong-arm you into starting on your list, so... When's the next time you're free to get a drink?

[That news is... Kind of painful, honestly, but it's what the situation calls for, and he's not about to argue with what Ian's decided is the best way to handle it especially since it's a big favor anyway. So he just nods, as though this is some sort of mundane information about the weather, though in addition to his actual dismay at the situation he's also a little concerned by what the locals might be expecting of the new arrivals. That's going to be an issue to keep aware of.

Just one more thing for the list, and he lets himself sigh at the question, not so sure he's actually ready to agree to this, but--]

Whenever. I'm mostly making my own schedule with helping out the medics, so it's more about when you have opportunity to dig yourself out from under your projects.

( Lance does a great job selling that acceptance as not being particularity terrible. Even so, Ian knows how he feels about it himself. He also knows that all three of them have a few key traits in common, and sleeping surrounded by people is bound to be fucking all of them over slowly but surely. It's draining. He has a few short term ideas he'll pitch later.

The display on his watch goes dark, indicating that the transfer is done. He detaches both devices, and turns to offer Lance his phone back. )

I think I should be done for the night in... Like two hours? Give or take? If you're good for that. I can meet you at the...

( Vague gesture, finger snap, fuck, his brain is so fried he can't even remember the word.

Whatever, Lance gets his meaning, he's sure. )

Edited 2021-06-08 04:29 (UTC)

The place.

[He says it flatly, but with a hint of an amused smile as he takes the phone; yeah, he gets the meaning, or at least he's pretty sure he does. No problem.

But he does add--]

I don't intend to be the only person talking.

[Just, you know. Putting that out there.]

( His answer is one huffed out sigh and a lightly declared: )

Fuck.

( He's not exactly shocked, but he's already committed. Bailing out of letting Lance talk about what's bothering him for his own selfish sake doesn't really sit right. It's fine. He'll navigate.

Maybe. Probably. Fucking Lance. )

Yeah, okay, I know. Get out of my office. Go check out the robot.

( That's his absent dismissal as he turns around to get straight back into working. Already distracted, already focusing.

It's more like two and a half hours before he shows up at The Place, sorry man. Priority number one: get a drink. Priority two is apologize for tardiness. )

[He feels smug enough at that response that he offers a small smirk and a wave goodbye, before he does indeed go check out the robot. The super cool robot. Wow.

But then he has a few hours of trying to mentally prepare himself for this conversation, because even though he knows logically it's the best thing to do, it's horrifying. It's made a little easier by the fact that it's just Ian, and that he's also dragged Ian into this with him, but that still doesn't help a lot.

The delay bothers him a little at first just because he's nervous, but by the time Ian does arrive Lance has his head on his arms on the table and is dozing a little. Not enough that he doesn't wake up and lift his head when he senses Ian approaching, but enough that the time wasn't wasted.]

Hey.

Hey, man.

( No traditional Sup Nod this time, but rather a faintly worried assessment of Lance's physical state. Nodding off at the table isn't a great sign. He's not in Lance's line of work, but it's not exactly a secret of the trade that sleep is an important part of mental health.

He settles into his seat, sliding his cup softly along the table's surface. No kool-aid package this time. )

How much sleep are you actually getting now?

Enough.

[A few hours here and there, which isn't great, but better than just after returning from the Aerie. Not that that's a difficult bar to pass, but whatever.

He straightens up in his seat and pulls his own glass toward him, but it's just water; he hasn't started drinking yet, because he's still deciding if he's going to or not. It certainly makes hard conversations easier, but it also lessens the benefit of them.

And speaking of hard conversations, he immediately stalls, though the question he asks to do so is still out of genuine interest and concern.]

What about you? I know this isn't your favorite arrangement either.

I'm six one and I'm sleeping in a fucking hammock.

( Blunt but chill, forever slow and calm in his speech. It would sound amused to a stranger, but Lance isn't. The annoyance deep down under there is legitimate. )

At least when I was stuck in the safehouse it was on a mattress. You have... no idea how hard it is to have sex in a hammock.

( TMI? Sorry, man, you wanted him to talk. There's a little realness for you. )

[He's about to empathize with the first comment--he isn't quite as tall as Ian, but very close and hammocks are definitely not comfortable--but then Ian says that last bit and it takes great effort for Lance to keep a straight face long enough to respond with--]

Wow, way to make assumptions.

[Correct assumptions, but still.]

Maybe the locals can give you some strategies.

Edited 2021-06-08 05:24 (UTC)

Hilarious, but believe it or not I'm actually not interested in hearing about other people who probably did it in the same hammock I try to sleep in.

( Ignorance is bliss, although he did recently learn about the couples privacy bunks. Also gross, but desperate times. )

As much as I'd love to keep talking about my sex life in ways that will slowly make you uncomfortable because you know all the parties involved, I'm actually gonna go ahead and acknowledge the stalling tactic out loud. I'm pretty sure talking about it ruins the efficacy.

[Okay, he supposes that's fair, and also gross. It's gross enough sleeping in the same hammock someone else did, let alone anything else.

But... Hey. Hey. Lance gives him a look for a few seconds, and then shrugs and picks up his glass of water.]

Sounds like you're volunteering to go first.

Nuh-uh.

( He protests, pointing his cup at Lance defiantly. )

The whole point was this being a you thing. You skate around talking to everyone else about their problems, you never let yourself talk about yours. You've been hitting me with that maybe later thing since, like, the Aerie at least. It's bonding time motherfucker, bare me your soul. Quiz me after.

[U g h. Could he argue? Maybe. But would it be a good argument? Not even a little.

So instead he rolls his eyes dramatically, especially since the levity will probably drop extremely quickly once he starts talking, but then sighs.]

Fine. But when you regret this, you're the one who said I should do it.

[Just, you know, as a warning. Also, he feels he should add--]

Also, um, more seriously... I don't want anything I say to be a reason why you think you shouldn't talk about something you're dealing with.

[Part of why he doesn't share things is that he just doesn't want to talk about them or have people look at him differently, but part of it is also concern that they'll think they shouldn't add to his problems. And sure, that's incredibly ironic and hypocritical since another reason he doesn't talk to people is that he doesn't want them to have more to worry about themselves, but whatever; he's never claimed he isn't a hypocrite.]

Sincerely noted.

( Which might accidentally sound less than sincere just as a byproduct of his natural demeanor, but he means it. Thinks he can guess at the logic behind it, or at least narrow it down to two likely reasons. )

I'll thrust the full weight of my issues on you with no reservations.

( Okay, maybe that isn't quite as sincere. He'll have reservations no matter what, but they'd exist regardless. He'll just be mindful that he hedges for his own selfish reasons alone. )

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