winterxdove | Open RP

From TFLN

Sleeping it off is a perk.

Not if you're fixing it with that bottle. Eventually, you might want to try a different fix. A willing ear, as it were.

It's why I find living and working in the same place so useful. No commute, more time to sleep off my inevitable hangovers.

I can't say talking about things has ever been my strong suit. Never understood how it helps.

That actually sounds kind of genius. but then you'd never get away from your work.

Usually, it helps work out and untangle what's gumming up your head and emotions. Either by hearing it yourself and really thinking on it, or having a small help from the person you're talking to, getting insight you might not have thought of.

And sometimes it's just cathartic to yell and vent to someone that's got nothing to do with the situation, just to get it out.

Only if you're not able to call it a day. I mean, I don't sleep in the exact space I work. I just park my trailer next to it.

Huh. My brother'd tell you I'm really good at yelling and venting, but that release doesn't tend to last much longer than any other. Max doesn't much encourage talking to anyone but him and our sister.

Ah, that makes more sense. Do you like being able to kind of pick up and move wherever you want?

I feel like that just means you have a lot pent up that you may not be releasing. And that would be part of the problem, only talking to your brother and sister. For starters, you need someone you're not related to, didn't grow up with, to vent to, to really get the full effect. And they're too close because you're bound to keep some things back to not hurt them or say something you'll regret.

I don't know. I don't actually move all that much, but I like the idea that I could.

You sound like the social worker I had as a kid. She was always encouraging me to open up, too. I'm not even sure I'd know where to start.

Whatever living makes you happy, is the best one.

I'm far from a social worker, unless social workers are willing to bring you a bottle if you need it. Though, I've been to enough therapists in my life that maybe something stuck. As for where to start, generally, you just start talking. If you let go a little, your mind will usually take lead for where to start. Sometimes my rants were as simple as my sister in my room without permission, other times it was deeper but it started similarly.

A bottle's a lot better than the social worker ever did.

Ok. Screw Max's rules. 'Cause that's how it always starts. And just when I think there might be some light left, some hope...it all implodes.

The bottle can be more forgiving than a social worker too.

Sounds like Max's rules are only hurting you. Did you want to do this over a bottle, rather than over texts?

That's for damn sure.

He means well. And, yeah. Over a bottle would be easier.

What would you like, I'll pick it up if you tell me where you are.

Jack's always good. And I'm up on the water tower. Though I can come down, meet you somewhere if you want. View's pretty sweet, though.

I can come up. I'll be there soon with a bottle of Jack.

You are my new favorite person.

Because I bring you a bottle of Jack?

Even to tops of water towers, yes. Most people'd just yell at me to get down.

I'm always up for a new view of a city. And most people are stupid.

Yes. Yes they are.

There isn't an answer to the text, partially because she had to stop and pick up the bottle, and then drive, and then climb up the ladder. He'll probably hear her before she ends up slipping onto that narrow walkway that circles the water tower. It's easy to find him up here, and she settles next to him easily before pulling the bottle out of a small shoulder bag she's got with her. "One bottle of jack." There's a beat before she adds, "I also have like six tacos in my bag because I figure if we get hungry drinking, we won't want to leave to get food."

For all his talk about the view of the town, he's laying back, gaze focused on the stars with a naked sense of longing he shutters away when he hears her make the walkway. By the time she settles, he's pushed back up to sitting, greeting her with a half smile.

"That's some good planning. Thanks..."

He's not wrong about the town though, it's a lovely view. Though as she glances up at the stars she wouldn't blame anyone for choosing that view either, because they're so much more vibrant up here, above the city's lights interfering with the view. She sets the bottle down between them, letting him decide when he wants it and leans back against the metal of the water tower as she offering him a soft smile.

"I've had a decent amount of practice, to anticipate needs while drinking." She stretches her legs out in front of her a little as she tilts her head up to watch the stars instead of the town, giving him both an ear but hopefully not making him feel like he's being watched or that there's anything expected. "So, rules from the right place but still hurting you, I think is where you left off."

He reaches for the bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink before saying anything. He needs it, though more for Dutch courage, as it were, than trying to drown out anything. Not opening up is how he's lived his whole life. Of course, his life is not much of one. Could be the two are related. Granted, there's good reason for some of it, but not all.

It's a fine line he's thinking of walking. Thus the way he falls silent again after taking a long drink, staring out over the town.

"Everything important, everything real in my life is a secret from someone I love. Or a lie. And I'm really tired of lying to people I love. But...everyone's got rules. And they aren't all my secrets to tell, so, lying feels like a betrayal, but the truth would be, too."

Sansa is quiet as he works through getting to talking, not fidgeting or pushing to get him to answer her. Truthfully, if he had changed his mind and didn't want to talk, she'd respect that too. But she was being truthful about, at least in her case, having it feel better to talk to someone that's not related to the issues bugging her. To get them off her chest, so to speak.

Green eyes finally shift to watch him as he opens up at least a little.

She doesn't reach a handout, but her jean clad knee bumps his gently in an offer of support. It's not easy to talk, and his problems sound extremely tangled. It's no wonder just venting to his siblings wasn't working, really. They're too tangled in it all with him. "Sounds like a painful knot," she offers gently. "Is there any way to untangle your secrets from the others, so you can find some kind of middle ground of being honest with the one you love?"

Michael bumps her knee back gently with his own in turn, has had just enough alcohol to let it rest there. It's a tiny piece of human--for a certain value of "human"--contact, but he lets it ground him in the here and now, even as he tilts his head back to look up at the stars.

"Very." He didn't like to think about the pain that often, but everything's been coming to a head now. "I don't know. Maybe, though I got a feeling it's too late on one side, which makes it not matter as much on the other." He knows he's talking in circles, but he's trying to find his way through it all, and it is his first time, after all. "So if it's too late, and, thus, doesn't matter, then I shouldn't keep letting it bother me. I mean...he didn't leave because he knows I lied."

There's something about having that silent support. She's found that it tends to go a long way, and Sansa's glad to offer it. Also gives him the best of both because he can continue to watch the stars above them.

The circles are making her head spin a little, everything definitely sounds like it'd be nearly impossible to separate out. There's a quiet moment as her mind words over everything before she finally asks, "If it's too late for what? And when did he leave?"

Open RP

For Michael ~neverlooksaway

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