eachdraidh | video. open to all lockets.

I need help. [Charles looks more like how he'd been when he arrived in the Drabworld nearly two years ago - longer hair, a full beard, only this time he was dealing with piecing his mind together bit by bit rather than recuperating from years of substance abuse. While he talks, he continually looks off at something at the corner of his eye, blinks, before refocusing on the locket again.]

Not with getting anywhere, or anything like that. Look - I can't be the only one who was wounded during the battle. I was before then. I'd gone through something some weeks before, but... I don't know. I don't know if everything made it worse, or if it kept it from getting better. [He runs a hand through his hair out of nervous habit. Wherever he is, there's not a lot of people surrounding him and with good reason. There are times when his telepathy threatens to overwhelm him again and it's better to be away from large crowds right now.]

It's my head. My mind. [There's a deep sigh, before he pushes forward because fuck his career as a spy - ] You remember when you shared memories with one another? I can do that naturally. And because of everything - I can't sleep very well, not very well at all.

[There's more to it than that but doesn't want to get into the nitty gritty; he's sure people can infer. Mumbling - ] Where can any of us even go right now? [A moment later and he clears his throat.]

I would also...I'd like to know who's still here. Even if we haven't met in person before. Fuck, even if we hated each other. It's a wild new world and, God - [He smiles for the first time, bright and abrupt, in spite of everything that happened.] There was mention of a party? I need a party. A week's worth.

Threaded | Flat

I find a shot of whiskey helps me sleep at night, but I'm guessing you'd need something a lot stronger than that.

[It was a bit of a joke, maybe. It's her way of being sympathetic.]

[ Concern bubbles up like blood to a newly opened wound, spreading across her face without cause to stop. He reminds her of the days she could not sleep, of the days of dreams that never seemed to stop, visions of futures that she could do nothing to stop. Visions of Arthur's death when she wanted nothing other to keep him breathing.

Morgana inhales sharply and decides she cares little for who else saw the look upon her face. ]

Charles.

[Diarmuid doesn't know this man, but he is asking for help and never has Diarmuid been able to resist helping those in need. Especially when he has something in his possession that might very easily offer that assistance.]

I know we have not met before Good Sir, but I was once given some incense that was charmed to provide deep and nightmareless sleep. I do not need to sleep, so have not used it myself. However, if there is a chance it might help you get some of the sleep you seem to so desperately need, I will be more than happy to have it sent to you.

[He might not be able to help with the odd 'memory sharing' abilities the man speaks of, but that doesn't mean he won't help in the ways that he can.]

Explain how sharing memories has affected your sleep.

[Javik hesitated, then decided to be slightly less demanding.]

My kind share thoughts, memories and emotions naturally as well. It is not a talent we shared with humans.

[Oh, dear. Gilgamesh feels almost compelled to respond, this poor soul is so miserable. Not even he can find any amusement in it.]

Peace, man. You do yourself no favors when in such a panic.

[ She frowns at her locket, uncertain what to say. He doesn't look well. How can one stop other memories and voices from filtering through if that is natural to them? ]

I sometimes drink a certain tea before bed but...I don't think that will help you here.

[ She isn't certain there's anything to be done. ]

Do you have any ideas of how we can assist you without making things worse?

... Charles?

[ Hermione breathes out a noise, a huff of air and crossed arms. ]

You should come to my house. Soon. We can work this out.

[ He's seen her Pensieve. He knows what she might be able to do. ]

[ He really, truly cannot help himself. ]

Did you teach your students with that mouth, Charles?

[There's a frown as she bites her lip. Charles. Asking for help. Instinctively, she wants to ask where he is, if he's hurt. But that doesn't quite seem to be it.]

Help? I'm not sure what Hermione has taught me will help with something like that. Injuries, I might help with enough until someone else more skilled could get there. But this.....you will find someone, won't you?

[Snow, Charles is not a child and you are not his mother. But that still does not stop her fretting all the same. Worrying about her friend, even amid the relief of knowing he's still around at all in all of this. One more familiar face.]

I think we could do with a party, yes. After all this.

video;

video.

[Video]

video

video;

voice;

no subject

video.

video