AUDIENCE 🚀 GREGOR

[dropoffs]

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[bulls]

I am the menkhu... I'm their only physician left. Dankovsky's gone off the deep end.

[ the kettle just bubbles, almost there. ]

I need to... save that idiot too.

[verminous]

No pressure, or anything...

[geez.

being the only physician they have to save them from the plague, having someone else to save on top of it all--]

It must be heavy.

[bulls]

[ a low hum. ]

It is.

[ pouring quietly, just staring downwards for a long moment, like maybe he's falling asleep with his eyes open? no it's fine. he blinks after a long stretch and sets his hands on the desk. ]

But I took my brand knowing what it would entail. [ offering him a light smile. ] Mostly. As with most things.

[verminous]

[that light smile gets an attempt at one in turn, but. not quite.]

Well... knowing most of what it'd entail isn't the same as having much choice in it.

[it's an unasked question, something he's leaving to io, if he feels like answering or not. gregor is all too familiar with a lack of choice, and if he's the only physician left, there couldn't have been many options in the beginning.]

[bulls]

... The Kin must always have their menkhu to read the Lines. And it's in my blood.

[ a choice willed into existence. it needed to be. he finishes up and brings over a hot cup, handing it over with care. a smile. still. ]

What's been willed simply... will be. And I'm okay with that if it means I can save my town.

[verminous]

Guess being able to do that for them must make it a little easier to swallow.

[something that had to be, but that-- at least ends up doing some good. ends up with saving people, with being in a position to help.

gregor takes the cup carefully, human hand curling around it to soak up the warmth.]

... you're a good man, you know.

[it's part of what makes gregor so fond of him.]

[bulls]

Most would rather call me ripper... butcher... that's what I do at the end of the day. [ sitting back down and resting the cup against the join of leg and prosthetic with a soft sigh. much better. there's a small bit of relief. ]

I... [ uncertain of how to say anything about this. ] Sometimes I do not feel like one. But I'm sure you understand that. I am just doing what I can.

[verminous]

I know you are. But it's-- enough.

[it's always been enough, here.]

I get it, though. Every time someone here tells me I am, I... almost don't wanna hear it.

[because what good has he done here, really. he hasn't done anything somebody else couldn't. his support could be replaced, if he were gone.]

[bulls]

When there's blood on your hands, forgiving yourself isn't something that comes easily.

I certainly haven't... I can't go and tell you to do the same... but I can tell you that you are a good man. That you're good every day, mistakes and all. Even if you don't believe it... sometimes knowing that others see that in you—

[ a tug at the mouth, a faint smile. ] It's something. A drop in the bucket. You keep moving.

[verminous]

[he's quiet for a few moments, gaze downcast, just looking into the cup he's holding.]

Haah... you say stuff like that in a way I just might believe, you know? Careful with that.

[bulls]

[ just nurses a little bit of the tea, rubbing his bad knee with a laugh. ]

I'll take that as a compliment...

[verminous]

Take it how you want, but I did mean it to be one.

[which gets a tiny little smile from him again, at least.]

[bulls]

Then it's only fair that you accept mine in trade. Believe in it... just a little more.

[verminous]

Well, I'll try to.

[he'll make an attempt to believe in it, at least.

for a second it looks like he means to say something, or ask something, but-- he pauses, stops himself, and mutters a quiet little nevermind as he picks up the cup to take a sip.]

[bulls]

[ tilting his head a moment. ]

What is it?

[verminous]

Nothing, nothing, it's... not important.

[bulls]

[ sincerely: ] Oh yeah. Sure. Of course.

[ and then deadpan: ] Spill it.

[verminous]

Ah, don't go and make it awkward on me, Io.

[look. if he's not bringing it up greg isn't sure he wants to.]

[bulls]

I am not making it awkward, if you have something to say, you ought to say it.

[ gregor he is tired and half falling asleep with this cup in his hand because he got to sit in a cot. ]

If... you're being some kind of coy about last weekend...

[ dead eyes him like is that it? is that what you're talking about? ]

[verminous]

I... wouldn't have called it coy.

[but, uh, yeah, looks like he nailed it there.]

[bulls]

[ coy: unwilling to commit to divulging information. coy. he will not be the annoying man dankovsky is, however. ]

Well. I suppose. My first thought regarding that was...

[ tilting his head, uncertain. ]

Why?

[verminous]

...well, I wanted to. I'm not sure what other explanation you want me to give you.

[a helpless little shrug, there, another sip of his drink. how do you even explain these things?]

But it wasn't just because of what was going on last week, making us touchier and everything, if that's what you were thinking.

[bulls]

Can't blame me... but...

[ sometimes you just don't trust anything. ]

This isn't self-deprecating, I promise you, I...

[ unhappily shuffles my lore papers. ]

I could never return such things. I am... no longer permitted. It's part of... dying. I've done it too much. A punishment...

[verminous]

No longer permitted-? By what?

[and what kind of punishment is that, anyway, to deny someone something like--]

[bulls]

The Theatre... the Director. [ a painful snarl ] that's where I go when I die. And every time I am told I've played my part wrong.

And every time they remove something from me. The ability to embrace the ones I care about. My ability to discern anything by touch. I am removed piecemeal with every death my body takes on. I have died too many times...