[ Maybe one of the nicest things about this dinghy is that Stede can't feasibly imagine Chauncey fitting in here with them. Or it's that Ed is just very good at warding off ghosts. Because he feels like he might have a whole new fake Badminton to cope with otherwise.
He might still. He's not sure. Floating in the water, maybe. Swimming up behind them. All gory, all creepy. Sweaty-handed and flailing.
He doesn't think Ed would let go of him, if he got pulled on by something that isn't real and pitched overboard. He thinks Ed would probably hold onto him even if they both drowned, and it's a lot more terrifying to picture than anything from the past few hours. ]
Yeah. [ Stede stares down at their hands in a very cool pensive way. Not in the way of someone with the emotional processing power of oatmeal. ] You're making it hard to argue with you. Which I'd normally think is rude.
[ Where's the fine tonal line between sounding mildly insulted, but also like all of that is the sort of stuff he used to hope he'd hear from someone and then quietly made himself smother out the hoping and then circled back around to secretly hoping to hear it at some point anyway?
It's just-- it's just he can't have it both ways. Logistically. So it actually is hard to argue with.
Is he so whatever it is that he is that he can't stop it and can't hide it and can't fix it? In which case Ed definitely already knew what he was looking at when he kissed him. Or has he pulled off a magical feat of corruption and theatre and trickery with such finesse that Ed can't even conceive of it as a trick? Even though if he had that kind of talent, he would've had an easier time overall for basically his whole life and wouldn't have half the problems he has.
There is so much math on this table and none of it is coming out right. Fuck. ]
Do you forgive me for getting your beard executed?
[ Catch Stede in the literal next tag like "babe I think I may be mentally or emotionally compromised" but right now this is very vital to his process. ]
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He might still. He's not sure. Floating in the water, maybe. Swimming up behind them. All gory, all creepy. Sweaty-handed and flailing.
He doesn't think Ed would let go of him, if he got pulled on by something that isn't real and pitched overboard. He thinks Ed would probably hold onto him even if they both drowned, and it's a lot more terrifying to picture than anything from the past few hours. ]
Yeah. [ Stede stares down at their hands in a very cool pensive way. Not in the way of someone with the emotional processing power of oatmeal. ] You're making it hard to argue with you. Which I'd normally think is rude.
[ Where's the fine tonal line between sounding mildly insulted, but also like all of that is the sort of stuff he used to hope he'd hear from someone and then quietly made himself smother out the hoping and then circled back around to secretly hoping to hear it at some point anyway?
It's just-- it's just he can't have it both ways. Logistically. So it actually is hard to argue with.
Is he so whatever it is that he is that he can't stop it and can't hide it and can't fix it? In which case Ed definitely already knew what he was looking at when he kissed him. Or has he pulled off a magical feat of corruption and theatre and trickery with such finesse that Ed can't even conceive of it as a trick? Even though if he had that kind of talent, he would've had an easier time overall for basically his whole life and wouldn't have half the problems he has.
There is so much math on this table and none of it is coming out right. Fuck. ]
Do you forgive me for getting your beard executed?
[ Catch Stede in the literal next tag like "babe I think I may be mentally or emotionally compromised" but right now this is very vital to his process. ]