[ There's a whole mess of things behind this, just like always. ]
Well... probably not.
[ Though no, that's really not a particularly comforting thought. And that last part... his kneejerk inner response is then what am I supposed to do? But... well, no. He knows.
He straightens up a bit after a moment and shifts his position to something a little less closed off. One hand adjusts his now fogged-up and tear-spotted monocle, and the other he makes into a fist that grasps at the decorated hem of his tunic and presses against his thigh. ]
...I'm not going to stop working to understand the situation, or to find a way out of it for everyone. I just... need to beat myself up over this for a while, since I'm too much of a coward to let anyone else do it.
[The sigh he breathes as he walks over is audible, possibly on purpose, or possibly just an expression of his own frustration with things. Automatically he reaches out for that monocle to take it off - it's already enough of a mess, and it's certainly not serving any useful purpose at the moment - and set it aside on the nightstand.]
Yeah, I expected that much. And you're gonna work yourself into exhaustion because you think that's the only way you'll be able to make up for what you've done.
[He knows exactly how Phil's train of thought works by now, and he likes it even less hearing this sort of thing out of him here than he does at home. If Phil were to exhaust himself, maybe make himself even sicker, that would make him a prime target for anyone looking for an easy kill.]
Were you coughing just now?
[There's a slight accusatory edge to his voice. Yes, he heard that, and no, he doesn't like it.]
[ There's a small sound of surprise when his monocle gets taken away, though it's true that it wasn't doing him any good in that condition. And, well... yes, that's probably exactly what he was going to do. But what good would he be to anyone if he didn't? It's better than just feeling sorry for himself and doing nothing, isn't it?
The question that follows that, on the other hand, catches him slightly off guard, and his guilty expression in the instant before he catches himself is probably enough of an answer on its own. ]
N-not just now, no.
[ Which is technically true, but he knows a bullshit answer like that isn't going to go over well. ]
...If you mean while I was getting the door open, I was just out of breath from walking a long distance so quickly. It's nothing to worry about.
[It comes out sounding more angry than he'd intended, frustration seeping in around the edges. He hates this feeling of utter helplessness that's just been compounding on itself all week; being able to get his hands on a weapon had helped with that a bit, only to end with him feeling even worse when that weapon had done absolutely nothing to help protect someone who had needed it.
She'd only been about Kanonno's age...]
At this rate no one is even going to need to kill you, since you're doing such a great job on that front on your own!
[... ah. He realizes that might have been too much the moment it leaves his mouth, but damn it, he can't stand watching Phil careening down the path to self-destruction like this, even when he isn't feeling it all secondhand.]
[ Phil shrinks back again at that, hugging his arms to his chest. There are plenty of harsh words that he knows he thoroughly deserves to have thrown at him, but this... ]
I-it wasn't that bad. And I've been taking my medicine and everything, so...
[ He's been plenty worse off than this before, and he's still here.
He frowns down at the covers, arbitrarily focusing on a single line of stitching. ]
I don't have any intention of letting Tir Na Nog down as long as I can help it... or everyone here. I'm not being that reckless.
[Seeing Phil curl in on himself like that is like a knife in the gut, and Marcus utters a quiet curse at himself under his breath. How can he tell him to stop making that face when he's the very reason Phil is making it in the first place?]
... look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.
[Except for the part where he kind of did. He can't look Phil in the eye after that; turning away, he rests his arm against the wall and then leans his forehead against that while he focuses on taking a few deep breaths.
He hates this-- everything about this.]
I just...
[He doesn't know, honestly. He barely even feels like himself right now, stripped of his strength, his link to Phil, and everything he's come to take for granted.
[ The visible tension in him lessens a little after that apology, though now he just feels bad that Marcus felt like he needed to give it. As usual, there's no part of this that isn't really his own fault if you dig deep enough.
He shakes his head. ]
I know... I know you're just worried. And you wouldn't have to worry so much if I hadn't already given you so many reasons to do so. S-so I'm sorry as well.
[Now he does push away from the wall and stand back up, looking down at him.]
It's not all your fault, so don't go taking all of the blame for this, got it? Let me be mad at myself for once.
[With a sigh, he too sits down on the bed, likewise leaning back against the headboard and folding his hands behind his head.]
Of course I'm worried about you. Kinda goes without saying in something like this. But...
[Phil has him, at the very least. People like Suga and Nageki? Who do they have to look out for them? There's no way that anyone here who might be inclined to attempt murder would see them as anything other than easy targets, and he's painfully aware of this fact.]
[ Phil turns to look at him, expecting the end to that sentence to come... but, well, actually he can probably fill in that blank himself. ]
...Ah. But you have even less say in what happens to everyone else here, right?
[ It's not even just a matter of whether anyone will look out for them but of how much they want to be looked out for. That meeting had made it pretty clear that not everyone was interested in simply following the safest plan of action. (Though admittedly, he couldn't actually guarantee that he'd even follow it himself.) ]
... yeah. So I guess in the end we're upset about pretty much the same thing.
[Intentionally or not, their actions - or lack of actions - have ended up putting others in danger.
He knows, on some basic level, why he really exists-- why mirrites exist. They're living weapons, made to be summoned over and over again to fight as long as is needed. Were they back at home, protecting everyone wouldn't be an issue in the slightest; here, however, where he can't simply be summoned back again if anything were to happen to him...
Well, now he understands just how Phil can feel so useless at times. And boy, he doesn't like it one bit.]
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Well... probably not.
[ Though no, that's really not a particularly comforting thought. And that last part... his kneejerk inner response is then what am I supposed to do? But... well, no. He knows.
He straightens up a bit after a moment and shifts his position to something a little less closed off. One hand adjusts his now fogged-up and tear-spotted monocle, and the other he makes into a fist that grasps at the decorated hem of his tunic and presses against his thigh. ]
...I'm not going to stop working to understand the situation, or to find a way out of it for everyone. I just... need to beat myself up over this for a while, since I'm too much of a coward to let anyone else do it.
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Yeah, I expected that much. And you're gonna work yourself into exhaustion because you think that's the only way you'll be able to make up for what you've done.
[He knows exactly how Phil's train of thought works by now, and he likes it even less hearing this sort of thing out of him here than he does at home. If Phil were to exhaust himself, maybe make himself even sicker, that would make him a prime target for anyone looking for an easy kill.]
Were you coughing just now?
[There's a slight accusatory edge to his voice. Yes, he heard that, and no, he doesn't like it.]
no subject
The question that follows that, on the other hand, catches him slightly off guard, and his guilty expression in the instant before he catches himself is probably enough of an answer on its own. ]
N-not just now, no.
[ Which is technically true, but he knows a bullshit answer like that isn't going to go over well. ]
...If you mean while I was getting the door open, I was just out of breath from walking a long distance so quickly. It's nothing to worry about.
no subject
[It comes out sounding more angry than he'd intended, frustration seeping in around the edges. He hates this feeling of utter helplessness that's just been compounding on itself all week; being able to get his hands on a weapon had helped with that a bit, only to end with him feeling even worse when that weapon had done absolutely nothing to help protect someone who had needed it.
She'd only been about Kanonno's age...]
At this rate no one is even going to need to kill you, since you're doing such a great job on that front on your own!
[... ah. He realizes that might have been too much the moment it leaves his mouth, but damn it, he can't stand watching Phil careening down the path to self-destruction like this, even when he isn't feeling it all secondhand.]
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I-it wasn't that bad. And I've been taking my medicine and everything, so...
[ He's been plenty worse off than this before, and he's still here.
He frowns down at the covers, arbitrarily focusing on a single line of stitching. ]
I don't have any intention of letting Tir Na Nog down as long as I can help it... or everyone here. I'm not being that reckless.
no subject
... look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.
[Except for the part where he kind of did. He can't look Phil in the eye after that; turning away, he rests his arm against the wall and then leans his forehead against that while he focuses on taking a few deep breaths.
He hates this-- everything about this.]
I just...
[He doesn't know, honestly. He barely even feels like himself right now, stripped of his strength, his link to Phil, and everything he's come to take for granted.
They both really are a mess.]
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He shakes his head. ]
I know... I know you're just worried. And you wouldn't have to worry so much if I hadn't already given you so many reasons to do so. S-so I'm sorry as well.
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[Now he does push away from the wall and stand back up, looking down at him.]
It's not all your fault, so don't go taking all of the blame for this, got it? Let me be mad at myself for once.
[With a sigh, he too sits down on the bed, likewise leaning back against the headboard and folding his hands behind his head.]
Of course I'm worried about you. Kinda goes without saying in something like this. But...
[Phil has him, at the very least. People like Suga and Nageki? Who do they have to look out for them? There's no way that anyone here who might be inclined to attempt murder would see them as anything other than easy targets, and he's painfully aware of this fact.]
no subject
...Ah. But you have even less say in what happens to everyone else here, right?
[ It's not even just a matter of whether anyone will look out for them but of how much they want to be looked out for. That meeting had made it pretty clear that not everyone was interested in simply following the safest plan of action. (Though admittedly, he couldn't actually guarantee that he'd even follow it himself.) ]
no subject
[Intentionally or not, their actions - or lack of actions - have ended up putting others in danger.
He knows, on some basic level, why he really exists-- why mirrites exist. They're living weapons, made to be summoned over and over again to fight as long as is needed. Were they back at home, protecting everyone wouldn't be an issue in the slightest; here, however, where he can't simply be summoned back again if anything were to happen to him...
Well, now he understands just how Phil can feel so useless at times. And boy, he doesn't like it one bit.]