[ Something about the way Fabian's voice goes quiet when he says, would you want to? gives Riz pause, even in his frenzied state, like just saying the flat out 'yes' that's on the tip of his tongue would be the wrong thing to say. He just can't seem to figure out why. Fabian doesn't like his space being messed up like this. And Riz -- Riz isn't fun to be around when he's like this, and he knows it. A part of him loves it, loves descending deep into a frenzy of overthinking and speculation. It's how he feels the most him, like he's really onto something, like what he's doing is valuable, important, like every other thing in the world that worries him just fades away. It's wonderful. When he's separated from this thing that he does, he feels... less himself. Lesser. Strange. Like there's someone else puppeting his body around while he waits for the next task.
As much as he loves it, he's also fundamentally aware that it's not good for anyone else, and probably not good for himself either. His friends usually indulge him, being that whatever he's focused on is usually predicated around something the whole team is working on (which is good; it means he's useful, he's helping the team, he's serving a purpose), but it makes him strained, strange, erratic. He usually manages to keep from descending into all this when he has company, but when he was home alone for hours at a time, things would get a little touch and go. The Bad Kids have seen him on task for their mission. His Mom saw him when there was no mission to be had -- just a kid getting worked up in the tiny apartment they called home, a kid she had to remind to eat and sleep and wash up long past the point at which he should be able to handle all of that himself.
There's no way Fabian wants to be around all that. The obvious solution is to remove himself, because he knows no matter how many promises he makes, at some point he'll look up and find that he's in the middle of it. Again. ]
I mean, wouldn't that be better for you? [ He slips another piece of paper into the folder. ] Even if I try not to do this again...
[ Saying anything more is the sort of thing that would get him sent to Jawbone. He probably wouldn't say anything at all, if not for Fabian's odd reaction, and the fact that he's pretty sure that Fabian won't start making noises about mental health and hey, have you considered talking to a professional about this.
His fingers flex out in front of him. He glances over at one of the boards, its ramblings incoherent to everyone but him. ]
Sometimes I don't really know I'm doing it while I'm doing it? I look up, and it's just... [ His cheeks puff out. He knows it sounds like a stupid excuse. ] Boom. And now it's all up in your shit.
[ Not inaccurate. Some has even made its way onto Fabian's door though not, thankfully, his actual bedroom. Some things are sacred. ]
no subject
As much as he loves it, he's also fundamentally aware that it's not good for anyone else, and probably not good for himself either. His friends usually indulge him, being that whatever he's focused on is usually predicated around something the whole team is working on (which is good; it means he's useful, he's helping the team, he's serving a purpose), but it makes him strained, strange, erratic. He usually manages to keep from descending into all this when he has company, but when he was home alone for hours at a time, things would get a little touch and go. The Bad Kids have seen him on task for their mission. His Mom saw him when there was no mission to be had -- just a kid getting worked up in the tiny apartment they called home, a kid she had to remind to eat and sleep and wash up long past the point at which he should be able to handle all of that himself.
There's no way Fabian wants to be around all that. The obvious solution is to remove himself, because he knows no matter how many promises he makes, at some point he'll look up and find that he's in the middle of it. Again. ]
I mean, wouldn't that be better for you? [ He slips another piece of paper into the folder. ] Even if I try not to do this again...
[ Saying anything more is the sort of thing that would get him sent to Jawbone. He probably wouldn't say anything at all, if not for Fabian's odd reaction, and the fact that he's pretty sure that Fabian won't start making noises about mental health and hey, have you considered talking to a professional about this.
His fingers flex out in front of him. He glances over at one of the boards, its ramblings incoherent to everyone but him. ]
Sometimes I don't really know I'm doing it while I'm doing it? I look up, and it's just... [ His cheeks puff out. He knows it sounds like a stupid excuse. ] Boom. And now it's all up in your shit.
[ Not inaccurate. Some has even made its way onto Fabian's door though not, thankfully, his actual bedroom. Some things are sacred. ]