Ryslig IC Contact

[terribibble]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, FIDDLEFORD HADRON MCGUCKET. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 011.23.581.321 *** teslacoils has joined 011.23.581.321 >> teslacoils has posted an AUDIO MESSAGE. If you wish to listen, type LISTEN01. <teslacoils> Lab hours are 10 AM to 6 PM Mon-Wed, 7 PM to 3 AM Thur-Fri, special appointments available. <teslacoils> I am no longer associated with the Fourth God. <teslacoils> But I will answer any questions you might have about him with the honest truth.

<teslacoils> - main username
<novus> <ordo> <seclorum> <fulcrum> - anonymous usernames
<hadron> <thamnophis> <4eyes> - retired usernames
pixel image by CJ Pythonmelon
voice work by Penny knittinggiantbeanies

Comments

[terribibble]

[This is good. Comfortable. He'd be perfectly content to just stay like this for hours if he could.]

I just... Marco, if I showed you my notebook right about now, you'd see the dang thing covered in eyes and it's because I've been drawin' them every chance I get since I saw what was in that portal.

[Did he tell Marco about that? He must have. He was so out of sorts for so long after, though... did it slip his mind? He can't remember... but he remembers rereading his notes and seeing eyes he doesn't remember drawing, the beginnings of that fractal mouth of teeth, like drawing the image for Rohan got it stuck in his hand and now it's drawing it as much as it can in hopes of getting it out.]

This sort of thing comes from somethin' serious. It doesn't mean there's somethin' wrong with you but it sure as hell means somethin's wrong.

[peccatore]

[Marco hesitates to act on his immediate instinct - what if now isn't the right time? They've been going slowly, but they've been going, but now they're talking about this and

What the hell, he goes ahead and plants a quick kiss on Fiddleford's neck. Then he resumes resting his head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath before he speaks.]

So what are we supposed to do about it?

[terribibble]

[The kiss doesn't seem to bother him, which is promising. He takes a sharp breath in but that's it: surprise, not displeasure. The tips of his ears go a little bit red.]

I... I don't know.

[He presses his cheek against Marco's hair.]

Doesn't stop me wantin' to fix it.

[peccatore]

[Marco makes a sound. It's a strange thing, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and a sob.]

I don't know how you'd do that at all.

[terribibble]

'Least it's not just you. It's me too. You're not alone. You tell me when I'm drawin' eyes on things, I'll tell you when your code gets hinky. If we can't fix it we can... contain it, I reckon's the word.

[That has to be something, right? They can keep tabs on it. They can learn to spot it, to head it off.]

[peccatore]

... Yeah. [He makes an effort to put just a little bit more energy into that word. He wants to believe it.] W-We can manage. Together.

[terribibble]

Mmhm.

[He turns his head and presses a small kiss to Marco's cheek just beneath the arm of his glasses. This is... good. This is okay. They can make this work.]

Feelin' better?

[peccatore]

[He takes a deep breath at the touch of Fiddleford's lips, a smile finding its way into his eyes. Looking at Fiddleford McGucket, and being close to him like this...]

... Yes. I am, actually.