thespherelogs | Closed Logs

Things had been hectic to say the least since the first domes started disappearing, the scramble for organization, to figure things out, it had all snowballed at a rather rapid pace. Llewellyn had shifted into his work mind-frame fairly quickly, even before Rhy had contacted him on behalf of the council, with a need to try to figure it what was behind the situation. For some semblance of control in a world where there really was very little of that.

It had been a long time since he felt such a sense of urgency, his focus narrowing singly on the situation and how he could help. There was room for little else when he got like this, when he was given a job to do or found a need that should be filled.

He did make room, on occasion. Specific people he worried about, they were never forgotten entirely lest he miss something important about their state of wellbeing. Llewellyn had in the past, and it cost him dearly. Out of everyone he was closed to, Rhy would find himself interrupted on more frequent occasions by the detective, little breaks in the man’s focus that were dedicated to checking in on him over a snack. Never for long, they were both busy after all, he never wanted to take Rhy from what was important...

But he noticed things. He noticed how tired the man was growing, every time he stopped in it was worse.

Finally, there came an evening where Llewellyn had to put it all aside, to put down his foot firmly on the matter. “Rhy...? Can I have a word with you? Mm... In private?” Was out of his mouth moments after approaching, hoping to do this without an audience. He expected push back in some form, though he hoped not.

Rhy, busy in his cramped tent which had an actual desk in it for him to work with, paused to consider Watts. Of course the man had just waltzed in. He looks up from his coffee and frowns. What?

"Come on in, dear. Did you bring me a snack again?"

To be fair, tents didn’t have doors with which to knock. Otherwise, he would have. His inspector had yelled at him for not knocking enough times for that. He hovered awkwardly by the entrance to the ten before moving further in.

Llewellyn took one look at the coffee and frowned right back. In general, he liked coffee a lot. It was an excellent beverage, and he enjoyed it more than tea by quite a bit. However, when someone you cared about wasn’t sleeping, coffee was bad.

“Nope. No snack, I uh— could get you one if you wanted but...” Llewellyn let out an awkward little breath, “You need to sleep more.” It was a little blunt perhaps, but there is a considerable amount of concern in his tone as well.

What? Rhy, who had turned back to his work and writing more orders and arrangements, freezes. Then he puts the pen down and turns to look at Watts.

"My dear, do you believe I'm not sleeping?"

Llewellyn moved closer to the desk, sitting down on the edge of it as though he were going to be there a while. Rhy would have had to have gotten used to by now. He couldn’t lean on the tent walls like he usually would have.

Settled on the furniture, he fixed the other man with a particular look. It was the sort of look Rhy had been on the receiving end of quite often over the last couple weeks. The detective was focused on his face, taking in the signs of a tired person that had definitely worsened. “The evidence is strong that you haven’t been, yes. Or if you have, it mm... hasn’t been nearly enough.”

His eyes drifted to the coffee cup again, “Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

Well, given the fact that Rhy's bed is immaculately made and clearly the man doesn't have time to do it himself, Watts may have a point.

"I'm sorry. There just isn't time for rest. So much is happening, and while I cannot solve it, I can try to make things more comfortable and well managed."

Another frown slipped onto his face, lingering a little longer this time. Both because of the excuse and the reminder that the problem, the mystery of the disappearing domes, hasn’t been solved. It’s not Rhy’s job to solve it though, in a way he feels like it’s his. He’s the detective around here, and there’s a voice in his head telling him he’s done a poor job of it.

It’s easier to focus on Rhy and his insistence on continuing to work instead of sleep though, so he does. “Sorry is unnecessary.” Comes out quick, an old habit. Llewellyn disliked being apologized to, it didn’t change anything. In this case the appropriate response instead would be for Rhy to listen and to start taking care of himself.

“You’re right, there is... a lot happening. But! In order to continue doing the very good work you’ve been doing, you need to consider your body’s own needs as well. The less sleep you get, the uh— worse your cognitive functions grow. Which, right now, are very important.” He’s been reading again, it’s what he does when he’s worried about someone’s health. ... He ignores applying said knowledge to himself of course, a bit hypocritical...

Rhy sighs, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I hate this. I hate... I hate being powerless in the face of the loss of a city. I hate being useless when the world ends around me. It's happened too often for my liking. Once was too much. Twice is obscene."

Llewellyn shook his head a little, he couldn’t really blame Rhy for feeling that way. The other man had been through something like this before, after all. He couldn’t imagine having to deal with something like this a second time...

Gently he raised a hand to rest gently on the side of Rhy’s face to get his attention, “I know It’s not easy... but I’d remind you that you aren’t entirely powerless. You’re keeping things organized and running, ensuring the needs of the people are met as smoothly as possible while this is all happening. That’s uh... no small thing.”

It wasn’t like this were something that could be fixed, at least not that he could find yet. The sphere wasn’t just one of a funny machine that needed a little tinkering to get working. “Sometimes the most important thing in times like this is just keeping everyone together and as well as we can until the trouble is over. That includes you, just in case you forgot.”

"It's not enough!" Rhy insists, his voice loud and sharp. Just short of a shout. He's angry, he's hurting. He's powerless.

And tears are threatening at his eyes and he doesn't want to let them fall.

"I couldn't do anything but wait last time. And Wanda, she... she suggested putting people to sleep. We did that in my city."

There’s a small, instinctive flinch back as Rhy raised his voice. It’s not the other man’s fault though, Llewellyn had simply never been good around such things. Been on the receiving end of what often went with raised voices too many times.

He gathered himself though, expression softening as he looked at Rhy’s face and saw the pain in it. “I know it um— doesn’t feel like it is, but you are...? You’re doing your best in a situation where no one else knows what to do, people who’ve been here for years. You’re keeping us all organized, you’ve taken it upon yourself to carry all that weight so others don’t have to...” Weight that he really shouldn’t have to. No one should, none of them should even be here right now.

And if he didn’t feel a small pain in his heart when he saw tears threatening to spill. Llewellyn was of the mind that one should be able to feel what they felt freely, but it was always such an instinct to hold tears in... When Rhy finished his thought, he realized why. “Well as someone who is present this time, and has observed you for a while as I brought you snacks... I mm... Can honestly say you’re doing far more than wait? But I’m sure her idea, though well-meaning, wasn’t easy to hear in that case...”

"I have done no such thing. I carry the weight with the rest of the council because that was what I was elected to do," Rhy counters.

An election he had put himself in because he didn't know how to be anything but a leader of men. Even if he wasn't very good at it.

Still, his partner was definitely a man that kept Rhy balanced, wasn't he? He sighs and wipes away the unfallen tears.

"There is nothing we really can do but plan and hope for the best. And it maddens me."

“And you were elected because you chose to run, even if it was the decision of many that you get the position on the council, you still accepted the responsibility. You, Max, and Laurie are all carrying a lot right now; and still moving forward when others might give up over the hopeless feeling that has settled on this situation.” Llewellyn’s tone was gentle but a touch firm, wanting to convey that he thought a lot of what Rhy was doing.

He lowered his hand slightly to rest on his shoulder, comforting and thoughtful. “It’s very mm... maddening, but I assure you... I’m still investigating, even if I’ve not turned anything up yet.” He truly had nothing to show for it, but... “Eventually something will shift, and we’ll have an idea of what to do next.” For better or worse, but he at least knows better than to say that right now. “This is temporary, and the work you’ve done has been invaluable to keeping everyone well.”

Perhaps he is right. And Rhy does feel tired. He looks past Watts toward the bed.

"I just... worry I shall get too far into my head if I try and rest."

Llewellyn knows he is right. His head turning to follow the man’s gaze for a moment towards the bed with a thoughtful expression. “I know the feeling...” He murmured absentmindedly, no stranger to getting lost inward when one should be doing other things.

“Would it help if I... distracted you?” He asked, a little hesitant. Sometimes Llewellyn knew he had silly ideas, but they pop out anyway. “I could read quietly, I know having something else to occupy the mind while trying to fall asleep helps. I used to—” He used to do it for Hubert and Daniel when they were young, he hasn’t had an occasion to read to another person in years. “I just want to help you... If I can?”

Distract him? Well, Watts definitely has his attention now. He turns to consider the man, and if his brain had started somewhere else, he smiled fondly and warmly.

"I don't have any books to read. I've been leaving them to those who need them more."

Llewellyn’s brain tended to start in one place, and then flit to something else until he landed on something that was useful. His mind had been described (by himself) like a flock of starlings, moving rather rapid and randomly about sometimes.

“Oh. Well, I suppose that’s out then.” His brow furrowed a bit, expression shifting a little as he tried to pull another thought forth that might be helpful. “I could try to pull something from memory...” Sometimes easier said than done, “Is there anything that you would find helpful in distracting your thoughts enough to relax that I could help with?” He asked, slipping off the edge of the desk to pace a little in the small space.

Well, he would offer intimacy, but this was likely not a quiet enough place for Watts to relax into such a thing.

"Tell me a story of something you have done in your life. I fear I know you less than you know me."

It was unfortunate the tents didn’t offer more privacy, Llewellyn might have considered it... Somehow that would be easier than talking about himself. Plus a little intimacy might have settled his own fraying nerves.

But he said he wanted to help, and surely he could come up with something that wasn’t all doom and gloom. “Alright, mm... only if you lay down and get yourself settled.” He moved over to the small cot, offering a hopeful smile and fluffing a pillow before gesturing to it. “Is there something about myself in particular that you’d like to know more about?”

Well, they were always welcome to try, if Watts felt brave enough. Rhy would not turn away such attentions. He'd never been shy about semi-public performance before.

"No," Rhy decides after a long moment. "I cannot anticipate what would be most interesting about you."

Semi-public would definitely have been a source of nerves for him, but so was discussing his life. Even his closest colleagues knew very little about him. Most things, the important bits, tended to be pulled from him when life decided to get complicated and forced him to speak. A lot of it wouldn’t help put Rhy’s mind at ease, which was why Llewellyn took a moment or two to consider what to speak of.

Still, openness was necessary to be close to another... Rhy was right, he knew a lot about him but not the other way around.

“I would argue that I can’t anticipate what would be most interesting about myself for you to hear, but... I can probably think of something, and if you find it dull I can move on to something else?” He gestured to the bed again, before settling on the ground next to it to start talking.

Humming a little, he pulled off his hat to fuss with the brim a little. “I grew up in Toronto, which means little I suppose given how different our worlds are... But it’s a nice enough city...? Most of the time.” His hand waved in a vague little gesture as he moved on, “Queens Park is probably my favourite place to go. There’s so much space, and the running trails my club uses are shaded well by trees. There are food stands dotted around the more open areas, and the groundskeepers tend to the flowers well. After my sister— left... and I moved in with the landlady, I would take my adoptive brothers there to burn off energy and play?” For all the difficulty he has with talking about some things, it’s clear that the park is a source of good memories. It’s the one place he knew he could go where he wouldn’t feel unsafe or unwelcome, nothing bad had ever happened to him there.

"You're telling me about things, not about a memory," Rhy points out as he lays down. And once he is, he holds a hand out for the other man. Come, that hand says. Join him.

Llewellyn knew Rhy was right but... Memories were harder than simply talking about something less specific. He considered the gesture for a moment, glancing at the hand to the bed rather awkwardly before he nodded a little. Why shouldn’t he join the other man? It would be nice... Better than sitting on the ground, and perhaps the nearness might make talking easier.

He gets up and moves to the bed, laying down next to Rhy carefully. “I know I am... Memories are a funny thing for me, I... I was supposed to talk to Laurie before all this started, actually. I have a hard time recalling some parts of my life, while other things are etched in my mind in perfect detail.” Llewellyn sighed a little, “I will need a moment to pull something uh— story worthy?” He means pleasant, of course. At least something the sphere hadn’t broadcasted already. “I could tell you about some of my early days working with Detective Murdoch, they might amuse.”

"Perhaps. Or you can tell me of your siblings. I would not mind a story of either of those ilk."

Just tell him things because he needs to hear it.

Settling a little more, he was silent for a moment. His brothers were... well, they had meant everything to him. For a very long time they’d made up most of his world. The two boys had been the closest thing he could ever really remember to having a family like other people did. He barely remembered his own parents, just little snippets of his mother were all that remained. His sister was another matter entirely, and if he had it his way the sphere would leave that scab untouched.

His voice was soft as he finally spoke up, “I can probably speak of both...? At least until you fall asleep.” He smiled a little, a little more subdued than the usual full grin that crossed his face. Llewellyn would start with his brothers, if only because it seemed fairer somehow. He knew much of Rhy and Kell both, it might be time to share a little more of his brothers with Rhy. At least this way he had more control, this could be more pleasant than that last memory share where his mess was exposed to everyone.

“Hubert and Daniel were very sweet, I... think you would have liked them. At least I hope you would have— they were very warm, and welcoming regardless of who you were. I barely had been there a day when they sort of adopted me. They were identical look-a likes? Most people couldn’t tell them apart, but I could.” Llewellyn stared at the ceiling of the tent above them thoughtfully, even now he tended to jump around the topic as much as he tried to stay on track.“Danny was very humorous, even if I didn’t always understand his jokes? He still went out of his way to make us laugh, and he knew if he could make Hubert laugh then I would probably catch it.”

Llewellyn hummed a little, “Hubert was creative in his own way, I think... I think if things had been different he might have been a writer like my coworker, George... He was excellent at making up all sorts of stories.” He frowned, a small thing. Hubert had unfortunately changed, and Llewellyn was sure that was his fault. Still, he thought of a story that was actually rather fitting for the moment. “Once when I was stuck in bed for a few days, caught something or other... I lost my voice, so I couldn’t read to them before bed? I thought they might be disappointed, they’d uh— taken a chance and grabbed a new book earlier that week.” Don’t judge them harshly, they’d had very little. “Anyway! He and Danny sort of piled into the room, and he made things up instead. Silly stories, or things they liked to think about the future.”

Closed Logs

Llewellyn checks in on Rhy and explains why sleep is good - Late month, probably around the 20th

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good close?

Excellent closing point :)