This is a better response than he was expecting to get. He knew that Fabian's not the sort to get down to brass tacks like Adaine does when confronted with such a deluge of information, and that he delivered it in possibly the least cogent way -- he just couldn't seem to stop himself once he got started in the way that he rarely can, wagging tongue running away with him even if there's a voice inside telling him that he should probably just stop already. Considering the state of their apartment, Fabian was well within his rights to be mad. Riz was expecting him to be mad, at least a little. Some yelling, maybe. A couple of dramatic arm gestures. Maybe a cry of, you promised you wouldn't do exactly this, which is not untrue. ]
It was a lot of information, [ he says weakly. ] I think it probably is all important, or at least relevant, I mean -- d'you remember those brochures for that college I gave everyone, Astral State? They've got whole wings dedicated to this kind of stuff!
[ Fabian almost certainly didn't read it, but Riz prefers to live in the happy fiction in which he did. ]
But I can organize it better. Condense it. Not do all of, um... this is bad, actually.
[ To his credit, he does continue disassembling it, shoving it haphazardously into folders, eyes darting back and forth in an obvious tell that he's itching to rearrange it in a different way, but just having an accountability buddy around is stopping him from traveling down that path. His heart is actually beating, like -- whoo. A lot. Which is better than not at all. But he might throw up, and if he throws up, it will be largely coffee, because he hasn't actually eaten anything since god knows when. ]
Sorry. [ It sounds genuine this time, not like an attempt to placate him. ] I didn't realize how out of control it all got until it was too late. [ With some self-deprecation: ] You know, just, uh... just The Ball stuff.
HAVE I... HAVE I APOLOGIZED YET........ m(._.)m
This is a better response than he was expecting to get. He knew that Fabian's not the sort to get down to brass tacks like Adaine does when confronted with such a deluge of information, and that he delivered it in possibly the least cogent way -- he just couldn't seem to stop himself once he got started in the way that he rarely can, wagging tongue running away with him even if there's a voice inside telling him that he should probably just stop already. Considering the state of their apartment, Fabian was well within his rights to be mad. Riz was expecting him to be mad, at least a little. Some yelling, maybe. A couple of dramatic arm gestures. Maybe a cry of, you promised you wouldn't do exactly this, which is not untrue. ]
It was a lot of information, [ he says weakly. ] I think it probably is all important, or at least relevant, I mean -- d'you remember those brochures for that college I gave everyone, Astral State? They've got whole wings dedicated to this kind of stuff!
[ Fabian almost certainly didn't read it, but Riz prefers to live in the happy fiction in which he did. ]
But I can organize it better. Condense it. Not do all of, um... this is bad, actually.
[ To his credit, he does continue disassembling it, shoving it haphazardously into folders, eyes darting back and forth in an obvious tell that he's itching to rearrange it in a different way, but just having an accountability buddy around is stopping him from traveling down that path. His heart is actually beating, like -- whoo. A lot. Which is better than not at all. But he might throw up, and if he throws up, it will be largely coffee, because he hasn't actually eaten anything since god knows when. ]
Sorry. [ It sounds genuine this time, not like an attempt to placate him. ] I didn't realize how out of control it all got until it was too late. [ With some self-deprecation: ] You know, just, uh... just The Ball stuff.