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[evocation]

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[evocation]

[Kyna wrestles with that for a moment. She could take the out. She really wants to take the out, but she doesn't want to lie to him again, and something about his straightforward bluntness always makes it harder to weasel out of these discussions.]

no, i'm
i don't know where to start, i guess
and i bet you've got enough to worry about, right?

[acheless]

Don't do that.

[ He'll be the judge of that, thanks. Truth is, worry's a lot easier to stomach than the alternative. ]

Start from the beginning
Always helps.

[evocation]

[Ughhh.]

you heard about the sim, right?

[acheless]

Yeah
Little bit

[evocation]

[He might be one of the few people who can get this, actually. How pathetic she feels without her magic, even if she's not ready to say that.]

it fucking sucked
and i couldn't do shit during it
i was just
you know
stuck
and i thought that maybe this whole thing would be better
because i deal with monsters at home all the time, right?
but it wasn't

[acheless]

Yeah.
I know the feeling.

That what you're worried about
Being dead weight?

[evocation]

yeah
i guess so

[It's partially that, and partially the constant loss of control, but she's still trying to work through that.]

[acheless]

Or you still twisted up from the sim?

[ Feels a little like that "guess so" should have a "but" or an "and" in here, is all. ]

[evocation]

both
i think

[acheless]

Could lie to you, if you want.
Say it gets easier going without
That you'll adjust.

[evocation]

[She doesn't want him to lie to her, but... Wait, what?]

has this happened to you before?

[acheless]

[ It's a while, a long one, before his reply comes through: ]

Yeah.
Not this. But close.

[evocation]

[Her mind scrambles to reassess—all the conversations she'd thought they were on the same page about and hadn't been. Not quite, anyway. He knows this loss even more intimately than she does.]

what happened?

[acheless]

You busy right now?

[ Nathan, suddenly and viscerally, fucking hates neural networks and screens. ]

[evocation]

no
you can come over to my place if you want

[acheless]

Yeah. Alright.
Be there soon

[evocation]

okay

[Does Kyna pace while she waits? Absolutely.]

action.

[acheless]

[ Nathan takes his time on his way, turning answers and stories over in his head. The easiest thing to do would be to tell Kyna that he's changed his mind. Ignore the voice that tells him he owes her, and tell her something else. She wouldn't know the difference.

He takes the long way. On foot. Circles the block twice, like motion and air will help. It does, but not in the way he wants it to, so when he shows up it's— been a while since their exchange.

Not exactly hours. But, you know. Probably longer than was strictly polite. His knock is light, quiet. ]

Hey.

[ Comes the greeting. His gaze slides past her and into the apartment. Not stepping in, in case anyone else is home. ]

Sorry I'm late. [ He doesn't sound that sorry. Tense, more like. ]

[evocation]

[The fact that he takes so long only ramps up her anxiety, so they're off to a good start. She waves him in, stepping back.]

Hey. It's just us.

[Ian and Lance are off doing whatever dudes with multiple degrees do, probably.]

[acheless]

[ Less reassuring than you think, Kyna. Nathan shoves his hands into his pockets. Nods tersely, just once, and takes a step or two inside. Hovers awkwardly as he takes it in: the decor she might or might not have, color of her walls, the floor. ]

Nice place.

[ Mundane shit. Nathan's jaw clenches tight, but he's not exactly looking at her. Hard to tell whether he's amping himself up or just regretting being here. ]

[evocation]

Thanks.

[There's not much of a personal touch yet. It's mostly the furniture the place came with, the windows half grown over with plants climbing up the outside of the building. There are, however, a lot of pillows on the couch. Apparently someone likes them.

Kyna is more focused on his expression than what he might be seeing in the apartment, though. It makes her chest tighten.]

Um... Are you okay?

[acheless]

[ Plants. Pillows. Someone's crashing on her couch, which makes sense, given he's crashing on someone else's right now. Nathan stares a practical fucking hole at her window. Like he gives a shit about plants. ]

Yeah.

[ No. Not really. He sighs, loud and frustrated, and scrubs a hand over his face. ]

Just got a headache.

[ Which is true enough. He looks at her, finally, but his gaze drops quick to her hand. Frowns at that, too, like seeing it in person might help him figure out whether it really is okay. ]

[evocation]

[Kyna frowns, a mirror of his expression, and flexes her hand automatically. She's not sure how to handle this. He's totally stalling.]

Do you want to sit down?

[acheless]

No.

[ The last thing he wants to do. There's some sort of cosmic irony here, that Kyna had told him she wasn't alright and now here he is, trying to figure out how to word what he wants to. He stays there, not near the counter or the door or the walls to her apartment, staring at the ground like it's done him a personal wrong.

Just fucking say something, Lowell. Don't just stand there. Just fucking say something. ]

Ask me again.

[ has this happened to you before? Blue eyes glance upward, fix onto hers. ]

Ask me again, Kyna.

[evocation]

[He has an intensity to him that throws her sometimes, so much so that she has to fight the urge to look away. She bites her lip instead, forcing herself through it.]

Did you... Did you lose your magic before this?