John (
greatoldjohn) wrote2022-10-31 02:46 am
Entry tags:
TLV Inbox

[in a rather deep voice] "This is John Doe. Please leave your message. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. I may respond in text if I'm currently with Arthur. Apologies."
Now Moved To: Inbox: Act II - please tag in there!

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But first, she'll press the button to send them up to level two.
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No, no. Arthur does not need him to start getting frustrated. Arthur needs him to be calm and give directions and keep things as smooth as possible through all this.
He's proud of how calm he sounds when he speaks.
[It shouldn't take too long. Then you can go to young Mandrake and I can stay with Misty and Natalie. I'm sure the infirmary has some way to help us get them to a room that isn't so awkward.]
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"Miss Quigley, my strength is not in question."
He could certainly go on, about how the only reason she refuses to leave and be reasonable about this whole thing is her pathetic, obsessive hero complex with regards to Natalie, when she is dead and won't even know that Misty is helping her--
--but he is being responsible, and keeps all of that inside. Clenches his jaw with the effort of it, but he keeps it in.
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Keep on task, she reminds herself. Arthur doesn't fucking matter.
The doors slide open, and she steps out backwards, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder.
"Don't you dare let me bump into anything. And don't use the excuse of being blind, either; I know he's talking to you in your head."
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Or at least slantways. Or- wait, wasn't she walking facing forward before when we were going down the steps?]
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STOP.
And then he's going to start moving and they can both just shout or they can fucking get Natalie to the Infirmary, for fuck's sake.
[You'll be done with her soon, Arthur. I'll handle Misty once she's in a bed.
Don't worry. I haven't forgotten what we talked about.]
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"Fine." It's a furious snap, more akin to the growl of a muzzled fight dog. "Fine." But he finally acquiesces, opting to walk sideways so John can see and Misty won't fucking trip like an idiot and they can get Natalie somewhere safe for her sake and John's and fuck Misty. "Come on, then."
This would be so much easier with the potato sack method.
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"There are private rooms in the back; I don't know how many."
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The thought of he and John separating right now? Is not even a question.
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With John's help, he's able to make their way to the right bed, and it takes hoisting his own knee onto the bed to be order to lay down Natalie in the rough centre of it, but finally - finally, they manage to lay her down properly.
John's hand finds a chair left there, and Arthur flops heavily into it; and now that the situation is apparently resolved, with both their inmates secured and another warden on the case to solve it, he finds that he's trembling, aggressively. And he lifts his hand to rub down his face, with a long, tired sigh.
"How are you holding up, John?"
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Only now that they're no longer walking does she start to breath heavily, like she's just reached the top of an eight-floor staircase.
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Very calm, very collected. It's one of those times when it's more obvious than not that he's a fragment of an ageless entity. He's not unfeeling, no, the farthest from it... but he's drawing on some of that part of himself to keep himself steady.
The other hand will lightly run through his hair, straightening it a little bit.
[You're trembling, Arthur. Did- you weren't hurt by the fight, were you?]
There's a little bit of alarm at the idea, but not much. Just concern, and the knowledge that something might have happened, there's an off chance. And a greater chance that Misty wouldn't say anything about it since she'd hardly looked at Arthur.
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A temporary limp was a nothing price to pay for his negligence.
He glances over towards the sound of Misty's heavy breathing, and his expression finally softens. Something more compassionate, now. "Are-- are you alright, Miss Quigley? I understand what a... a-a shock this must be."
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"Sure," she says, and swallows. "Sure, I'll be fine."
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Now that they're waiting on the infirmary, there's no reason not to. Especially since they're going to be looking out for their inmates.
John will look around just the once before reaching for the pad and pencil that seem to be on the bed table already. He writes something quickly before holding up the pad to Misty.
it's okay to not be okay
Natalie mentioned you're a nurse.
Would you help me look after her while she recovers?
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It's too raw a moment to pretend otherwise. He's tired, on a bone-deep level he hasn't felt in years. That he'd hoped he'd never feel again.
"Certainly I would be if something happened to John - though, he's holding up as well." His face turns away slightly, back towards Nathaniel's bed. "You're allowed to not be fine with this situation."
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"I need to be fine right now," she says, her voice stiff. "But of course I'll help."
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married and divorcedanger and apology, from hurt to forgiveness, and all of it burns hot, but for anyone else...[Misty is actually a nurse back in her world. She's going to help me care for Natalie in my cabin.]
Thank you.
He shows that, then puts it down to write again.
Can we have something of a truce while Natalie's unwell? She shouldn't have to deal with our troubles.
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"Hello, Misty," he says, both to her and to announce his presence to Arthur. He walks over, putting a hand on her shoulder.
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It's harder to lie in his presence, whether that lie is for his benefit or her own.
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We're all a little raw right now.
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"Pagan." And back to Misty: "Miss Quiqley, I apologise for being short with you during this. Having to carry Mandrake here first put me in an... extremely poor state of mind, but that is no excuse for me to lash out at you as I did, when you were trying to help. I don't want you to feel as though you aren't welcome to keep helping John with Natalie's care because of my temper."
It's a formality more than a sincere apology; certainly he hasn't apologised to John for worse than this.
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