All right. Robbie. ( it feels important to say, to echo, to let it become familiar to him. it feels like the first puzzle pieces snapping together, but it equally frustrates Ben, with nothing physical to connect with his own handiwork. it isn't like him, not one who traverses conundrums with eagerness, but this feels so much more...visceral. it's difficult to want to think when instinct wants to take over. )
Los Angeles — never been. ( mild and musing; talk to him about the south and east any day, though. ) I was, um...well, I live in London. ( here is where thinking does not always provide the correct response: Ben says he lives in London, says it to cement the knowledge, that which may only be fated for nothing more than a memory. he should hold onto his memory, his life, present tense, not past.
except that it...feels already like another person's life. like coming here was waking from a dream. Ben pauses as it washes over him, the sensation that he didn't fit there to begin with. he never really did.
but how does he fit here? how do any of them? )
I'd just come back from Japan, actually. Working trip. (sort of. ) I'm rather sure I was just sat at home, with the cat, who...I pray isn't furious with me going away.
( Ben is sharing an awful lot, isn't he...not that he is ever so brutally secretive, but it...just spills out. he looks up from his pensive haze and sees he's lifted his hand up to the mirror, the cracked glass. just where a fracture point is, in fact — as if all of the cracks radiate out of his palm like a halo. )
no subject
Los Angeles — never been. ( mild and musing; talk to him about the south and east any day, though. ) I was, um...well, I live in London. ( here is where thinking does not always provide the correct response: Ben says he lives in London, says it to cement the knowledge, that which may only be fated for nothing more than a memory. he should hold onto his memory, his life, present tense, not past.
except that it...feels already like another person's life. like coming here was waking from a dream. Ben pauses as it washes over him, the sensation that he didn't fit there to begin with. he never really did.
but how does he fit here? how do any of them? )
I'd just come back from Japan, actually. Working trip. ( sort of. ) I'm rather sure I was just sat at home, with the cat, who...I pray isn't furious with me going away.
( Ben is sharing an awful lot, isn't he...not that he is ever so brutally secretive, but it...just spills out. he looks up from his pensive haze and sees he's lifted his hand up to the mirror, the cracked glass. just where a fracture point is, in fact — as if all of the cracks radiate out of his palm like a halo. )