Trying to rub tears out of their eyes, they tilt their head softly and close their eyes at the sound of fluent Icelandic. It was rare when they got to hear it from Bergi. But this was not Bergi, they had to remind themself. They had to stop focusing on him. He was dead.
“You seem…comfortable like this. Talk more like this. It suits you better.”
Sportacus lets out a soft sort of trilling wheeze as anxiety rolls back up their spine again. They were trying to go through with this, do something reasonable. But it wasn’t working, it wasnt sustainable. Sportacus wasn’t in a place that they could manage anything this complex without a full breakdown, and it was readily apparent.
“So. hem. hm. I. Robbie. Mér þykir það leitt. I can’t. Sorry, sorry. I am. Clearly not in the best to do thissss right now. I. I promise I will do this for you. Það er bara ehh- ekki… I just. Mmm. You can tell I am. A mess. I could be in jail in America tomorrow for all I know. They. They used my deadname. No one in Iceland knows my deadname but they found out what it was somehow and I am…probably being pursued…”
Abruptly falling silent, they scrunch their eyebrows in an expression of loss and hurt and confusion. “I shouldn’t bother you with this. I shouldn’t tell you this. I am going to go now until I am better. I’ll come back and help if i can. I am no use to you like this.”
Sportacus simply scribbles a number on a notepad, places it in Robbie’s hands, and hoists themself up the pipe.
Robbie felt a pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He ... definitely could relate to that - trying to erase his birthname to cover himself rang only too familiar with him, and he immediately felt bad when Sportacus displayed obvious signs of distress. Robbie knew what it was like to try and run - he happened to be very good at disappearing for good, coincidentally, but others may not be as lucky.
“Wait.” He slipped back into English, more familar with the language despite speaking it less, technically, and attempts to follow Sportacus. He wouldn’t force them to do anything if it made them uncomfortable, not after what had happened. Again, he may have been the bad guy, technically and by name, but he was hardly a cruel person.
If Sportacus tried to run away, Robbie wouldn’t be able to keep up; not for lack of trying, but just missing stamina. So if they wanted to escape, they had every chance to.
janainaart
yousharknotpass
dededos
blakekathryn
vaporwave
romaincrisis
2087
