Snowblind Inbox

[warriorscribe]

[Such a wondrous device. Are there little invisible couriers for these messages?]

Comments

[warriorscribe]

[The response comes out a lot stronger than he intended it, thankfully for his companions the static coincides with the in-person distortions so he's barely there to be heard.]

But I -------! I must be ----- mad, --- ---ver....

[Being alone is intrinsically upsetting as it is. To someone who needs someone else in his life like Enoch, it's unbearable. Practically unlivable. He can't fully turn himself over to this paranoia.]

[bookofnope]

[The static disrupts everything. Something has managed to bring him to offer comfort, to the extent that he can. and he can't even do that. Frustration and fear make Beckett hiss through his teeth, but maybe it's just one more noise in the system.

He doesn't so much answer as speaks what comes to mind.] Perha▒▒ ▒▒ ▒▒▒ all mad. There's a ▒▒▒▒▒ndness in sharing madness. Anatole had ▒▒▒ I ▒▒▒ know the song they share. He me▒▒▒ as a gift...

[warriorscribe]

[Somehow, under all the pressure, under all this fear, with all the pain and hardships behind him, both in Norfinbury and at home, somehow the thought his mind seizes on is so much smaller than any scope he's dealt with for centuries, and in absolute irony, it comes out with perfect clarity, a quiet, morose complaint about something weirdly normal, for all he's experienced:]

I can't go mad, I'm so close to having a family of my own...a place to call home, forever.

[The awkward silence following suggests even he may be aware of how small he just sounded, and he isn't sure how to salvage that image, to minimize any worrying that might be done, or isn't sure he wants to.]

[bookofnope]

[In his state, Enoch's state, in the place they are both trapped in, Beckett doesn't even think about smallness. He thinks Enoch sounds very much like he would, did, about something else entirely. So close. That's the heart of what despair means, isn't it. When hopes are not only dashed, but revealed to have been empty all along.]

Would God allow it? [He asks with horrible wondering honesty. An answer he does not have. A hope he's afraid of imagining.] For you - you of all men - to come so close for nothing?

[warriorscribe]

My direct service to Him is done. He would not dare interfere in parts of my life He has no claim to.

[The next is in a smaller voice again, frightened and sad. He can't hide it now. It hurts too much.]

That could be why they haven't come. Lucifel would know I am out of place, wouldn't he? ...He can't come after me. I'm done. My mission is complete... He can't come...he has no right to interfere anymore...it's over...