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@kiincaid // for angela price
❝I need you to tell me exactly what you know.❞ he had been waiting all day, for them to be alone, or at least as alone as they could be in this building ❝If we are to...cooperate, we need to be honest with each other. Do you think you’re capable of that?❞
Elliot stood there, wide eyed and confused. He’d lost contact with so many people that it wouldn’t surprise him if he was imagining Tyrell right at this moment. They all went into hiding, including the blonde male before him, and his mind, as if it blocked it out, he had lost large gaps of time, but one thing was for sure.. he remembered the gun so clearly that it seemed like it was this morning, so who knows how long into the week, month or year they’re into now… I don’t know what to do, should I confront him? And even if I do what will come out of this? Why the fuck would I even feed into this?
"I…“ He glanced down, simply refusing to look the man in the eye, why would he even ask Tyrell if he was real? He confuses himself so much.. What would you do? Would you believe this? Is this a trick played by Mr. Robot? What did even happen that time? Plan… I hope you remember we had a plan.. but.. I deleted it; didn’t I? “I don’t know.” He finally admitted, his shoulders dropped down and his gaze went straight to his feet, he felt unsure now, as if the question he’d ask the man was a sudden regret the instant it left his lips.
Another sharp breath escaped him and as he ran his hand to his face, he wondered why he didn’t just leave him. Elliot obviously didn’t trust him enough to confine in him about his…condition or his change of plans, he didn’t need him, he didn’t care about him, so why the fuck was he still here?
❝I am real. Always have been.❞ Even if there were moments Elliot really thought Tyrell was just a fragment of his imagination, it was no longer Tyrell’s job to convince him he wasn’t. And yet he didn’t walk away from him. At least now he wouldn’t let it go that far as it went last time this Elliot took over, he wouldn’t shoot him and he wouldn’t let him destroy anything either. He let out another sharp breath and cleared his throat, clasped his hands behind his back, stood straight and tried to look professional ❝Does that mean you don’t remember what we agreed on? Last time we met? ❞
@elliotalderson-er28-0652
@justl0nely wants chill high Tyrell
Smoking weed was the last thing he thought he would do. But then again he did not think he would end up here, in an apartment next to an empty crib. When was the last time he had ever done that? Must have been almost fifteen years ago with Alicia. He heard the backdoor open, but he didn’t really bother putting the weed—the cigarette, however the fuck it was called. He was laying on his couch, wearing just a t-shirt and jeans, just what he wore when he bought it.
❝Elliot. Were we supposed to — ❞ he was about to say something else, but he started laughing. He should do this all the time. Then he might have had actual fun working with Elliot ❝You do know that there is a doorbell, right? Not that I would open — answer, but you know.❞ he laughed again and took another drag.
@hackertm //IRVING liked this for a smol thing
That was the last thing he needed right now. Irving or anyone else from that fucking Army, giving any kind of order or threat or both. They couldn’t even let him grieve in peace.
❝Listen to me.❞ he said angrily, a finger pointed at him as he walked closer to him. If he chose to be here, he would have to hear him yell. Unless silent obedience was also part of whatever the fuck that was. He didn’t want to yell at him and risk his son’s well-being, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like he could shout at Santiago in there, could he? Irving would have to do. As far as he was concerned, he was just as bad as Santiago, he had lied to him to and maybe he was moments away from sending his son to a horrible home and him on the ground. ❝If you or anyone from the Dark Army and especially that motherfucker in the FBI ever threaten my son again, I will fucking kill you. I did everything you wanted, I wasn’t going to say anything, you know that. So you didn’t have to bring my son into this.❞ They weren’t supposed to send him for almost a month to the FBI either, they were supposed to help him get away from it all, they weren’t supposed to blame to random people for what they had done. They weren’t supposed to change the plan in the last minute either, so he shouldn’t have been that fucking surprised.
@eyescaptivate liked this for a short thing
❝No, I can’t calm down. One of these days I am just going to kill him with my own hands, I swear to God.❞
@eyescaptivate wants chill high Tyrell
At least this time, it was something much lighter than before. Which meant he could control it better, couldn’t he? And he had tried that before, long long time ago. It was relaxing and it made him feel like he was no longer worried much about anything. Now he could see why some people did that quite often. Still, he hated the smell. The television was on, playing a movie he was meant to be watching, but for now he was satisfied with the background noise it created and staring at the ceiling. He heard the door open — he should really lock that thing and when he saw Angela he tried to clean the air around him with his hands, forgetting for a moment that he was actually holding a joint. ❝It’s not what it looks like.❞ he was trying not to laugh as he said this and got up to walk to her ❝You have to admit, it could be worse.❞
@eyescaptivate liked for a small thing
❝Where the hell have you been?❞ he was’t worried about her, he didn’t care about her enough for her to do so, but she was supposed to be a call away ❝You don’t look well.❞
@e11i0talders0n (x)
❝Yes, I’ve gathered that.❞ he murmured. He was getting better at telling the difference between Elliots, despite not understanding how it worked or what either of them really wanted. But he hated that. Not knowing. Not knowing him as well as he thought, perhaps not knowing him at all. Most of their interactions so far after the cyber bombings, was with the other one, so maybe, this Elliot didn’t know him either. And he certainly didn’t love him, neither of them did.
He was angry. Still. After all this time, he was so angry at him. For throwing it all away, for claiming he wanted so different than what they both had been working on for months. If he hadn’t jeopardized their plan...it would have never changed, they would have —Did Elliot just apologize to him? Or expressed his condolences? Stupid English. A little bit late for both, wasn’t it? Still, it was something he never expected him to do, even though he deserved it, and something that Elliot had never done that before. Despite himself, his expression softened and let out a small shaky breath, still somehow trying to hold his ground. ❝What are you sorry for exactly?❞
