Flynn has been a fragile thing all month, and that is a feeling he hates. Even the comfortable, familiar weight of his armor—or, rather, armor that he and Yuri purchased, because his actual armor is a twisted unsalvageable mass in several places—can't seem to make him feel secure in any way, and with everything with Yuri being so vague and home being such a faraway thing, it is really sinking in that Flynn is here, untethered but for Yuri and Repede, for good: that he has abandoned his dreams and everything he worked for, that he has left all the people who were counting on him behind with no real way of knowing whether there is another version of himself back there to take care of them.
It's a lot to handle, all of the weight of home piled up on top of him, but Flynn hadn't meant for this to happen. He wipes hurriedly at his own eyes, frowning hard. ]
I'm really fine, please don't worry about me, it's—the moon? I believe?
[ It is not. Cloverfield isn't even his patron! He's just... feeling it.
And there is in fact a shadow behind him, an armored thing shaped like himself draped over his chair, pressing invisible fingers into Flynn's skin. ]
no subject
[ At least it's an honest answer.
Flynn has been a fragile thing all month, and that is a feeling he hates. Even the comfortable, familiar weight of his armor—or, rather, armor that he and Yuri purchased, because his actual armor is a twisted unsalvageable mass in several places—can't seem to make him feel secure in any way, and with everything with Yuri being so vague and home being such a faraway thing, it is really sinking in that Flynn is here, untethered but for Yuri and Repede, for good: that he has abandoned his dreams and everything he worked for, that he has left all the people who were counting on him behind with no real way of knowing whether there is another version of himself back there to take care of them.
It's a lot to handle, all of the weight of home piled up on top of him, but Flynn hadn't meant for this to happen. He wipes hurriedly at his own eyes, frowning hard. ]
I'm really fine, please don't worry about me, it's—the moon? I believe?
[ It is not. Cloverfield isn't even his patron! He's just... feeling it.
And there is in fact a shadow behind him, an armored thing shaped like himself draped over his chair, pressing invisible fingers into Flynn's skin. ]