SPRING BREEAKKKKK;

[howtheyshine]

He's in the dark. He's in the dark again. A pocket of alive-darkness that he can feel the edges of, he can feel the void that waits.

Well hello there, Yellowhead. We haven't been formally introduced. I'm....

Call me Carmichael.

The laugh that bubbles through the name makes Yellow's soul creep.

You're Kayne.

A silence ripples outward from the nothing-space the voice takes up, a silence deeper than the emptiness of John's unoccupied body. Yel-- Edwin, Edwin curls in on himself, tightening into a tiny knot of spectral energy.

He said the wrong thing, he said the wrong thing, he's going to get hurt--

And how, my little poppet, did you know that.

I-I...

Actually. Know what? Doesn't matter. Sorry to pull the plug on that little experiment so abruptly, but see, I made a deal with your better half--

John!

He can't stop himself. He realizes how stupid the flare of hope is a moment later, when that oppressive empty cold bleak dead cold silent dark silent dark comes creeping back up between him and the voice of Kayne.

I made a deal with him to get him back to Arthur, which means you needed to clear the way.

Of course, I can't be bothered to babysit you.

So you've got a couple of options, here, kid.

Well, two. Which is more like one. Unless you want to go back to the Dark World, in which case--

No-- No, please, I don't care what you want, I'll do it, just--

Okay, okay, Jeeee-sus, stop groveling. It took John a few good centuries to get to that point.

Yellow goes quiet, cowed.

There's this guy I want you to meet. He's like the worst version of Arthur got all the color sucked out of it and given eternal life.

Wh... What?

Well, technically you did meet him. I guess now he gets a chance to meet you, since he's so fucking eager to lick the feet of a god.

The unhinged laughter rings in Yel-- Edwin, Edwin, Edwin's ears as he feels the world get abruptly smaller and his senses get stripped back to shadows.

Comments

[greatoldjohn]

There's a surge of frustration and anger, not directed at Edwin but for him. He has to be careful because Arthur might be confused or concerned what he's getting defensive for... but it's there regardless.

I... okay.

Okay.

There's a longer pause, because he wants to ask more questions, wants to spend more time talking to him. He's frustrated, so very frustrated, and he wants-

He wants this not to be the last time they speak. But he knows very well it might be, and that means he has to say what needs to be said. He takes another moment to be sure, absolutely sure. He can't, won't, say the words without meaning every single one.

Then... then remember that he falters a little and shifts the words a little more. Yes, this is it. Remember that your brother loves you.

[howtheyshine]

Warmth rushes through the fatigue, a ghost of an embrace.

And I...

I love my brother.

[greatoldjohn]

Keep yourself safe. However you have to.

He'll wait for Edwin's answer, but after it comes, he'll break the connection. He doesn't want Edwin to have a chance of getting caught.

[howtheyshine]

G-good... luck. To you and to Arthur.

He can't help the sense that this is it, that this is it in one way or another. That if he can't protect himself, then he'll have to try and-- use himself up. Drive himself out of existence, lean into that sense of unraveling with each bit of power he exercises outside of Larson. It would be better than the Dark World.

If this is the last thing he ever says to someone he cares about, he doesn't want it to just be 'good luck.'

Tell him... Tell him... Tell him t-teaching you to be a detective was one of the best things he did for you. For either of us. T-tell him I think he's forgotten what... what a detective does, and that maybe-- maybe he can find who he wants to be if he remembers.

And... And... Remember to-- to hope. You're better at it than I am anyway, but-- S-so much changes when you do.

[greatoldjohn]

I'll do my best.

I know you will too.

He considers more, but all the same? That's what he wants to say.