[House 47, you just got a most unpleasant wake-up call. Namely, loud banging and the whining of a terrified canine. Sigmund has just kicked Capell's door with all of his considerable strength and put his fist through the wall in the hallway.
Because it's not Capell's door anymore.
He's not going to wait to make the courtesy announcement, mostly because he's not sure how long he's going to keep it together. As it is, even over the journal his voice has a tight, brittle quality to it.]
If you knew him, Capell is... [He won't say 'home.' He's not. Home is with him. He won't.] ...gone.
Because it's not Capell's door anymore.
He's not going to wait to make the courtesy announcement, mostly because he's not sure how long he's going to keep it together. As it is, even over the journal his voice has a tight, brittle quality to it.]
If you knew him, Capell is... [He won't say 'home.' He's not. Home is with him. He won't.] ...gone.
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chasethestars
chasethestars
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Gone just means he went home, so it's not something to be sad about, but that means she won't see Capell again, won't it? That faint pang of loss makes Katie bite her lip, but her attention is more on Sigmund right now. She's in earshot when he makes that entry, hovering in the doorway and not willing to approach. An upset adult who puts his fist through a wall is not one she thinks it's wise to disturb.]
Sigmund, meanwhile, half slides, half crumples down the wall to the floor. If he looks bad, his echo looks worse - unkempt, grief stricken, alternately dull and wild-eyed.]
He may not notice her approach until she's by his side, fingertips touching nervously to his shoulder.]
Did I wake you? My apologies.
Will you be all right?
Might as well be him.]
I will. [And for once in his life, he doesn't know whether or not he's lying.]
...My lord...
Gone. He's gone. [A deep, shaky breath.] You should...
He's sure that Capell is safer there, but that would be no comfort. Capell is in a place where Sigmund can't follow yet, and that, in Edward's opinion, is unacceptable.]
We'll find a way to join him, my lord. Both of us.
I still wanted to- [He cuts himself off, and swallows.] Edward, you should- [He stops again; but from the quaver at the last word, his meaning should be abundantly clear this time. 'You should go, or else you are going to see me cry.']
[Well, he might if Sigmund ordered him, but at this point - and considering the situation - he may actually have to disobey. His grip is tight and immobile on Sigmund's arm.]
There's a long silence, and then a soft, dry sob. And then another, and another, until they start to blend together. No tears, just a horrible breathless choke-gasping. Every so often, Sigmund jerks on his arm to try and pull it out of Edward's grasp, although not with anything near the strength that put a hole in their plaster. It's going to be a while before he has that much fight in him again.]
Edward knows. He understands. He's felt that crushing loss before, and not - he can indulgently believe - the same way that any of the Liberation Force that day in Vesplume Tower could understand, save Eugene. The loss of someone so precious, so critical to his very existence... it's heartbreaking. It can ruin you if you're not strong enough to work through it.
He has faith in Sigmund's strength, but... that doesn't mean that support isn't needed. So he sits with Sigmund, his hand steady and posture supportive, ready to give his lord whatever he needs, even if all he needs is silent company.]
Because this is not the eclipse again. He is not alone.
Ironic, that the person to support him would be Edward. He slumps sideways, until Edward is literally supporting him as well, his eyes closed, his cheek resting against Edward's arm.]
She's got nothing to say to you, Sigmund. Not really. They've yet to really talk despite Capell's effort's at reconciliation.
Capell. He'd been a friend. Going back to that world where they judged you based on what you could or couldn't do...
Katara wishes him well.]
Sigmund... I need to talk to you.
And? [So aloof. So cold.]
... But she's also walking a thin line here and knows it. That "need" was honest. ]
Please.
He lets it go.] You've not moved?
... When it comes to this matter, though, she doesn't really have many options. Hope is running out of time, and she's already promised she'll take any lead she can get. ]
[ The reply is immediate and she drops it directly afterward. She's not sure whether he caught on to her reluctance there or not, but it's relieving either way-- as relieving as anything in this whole situation can be, that is. She has a strong feeling that she might be pressed to explain things she'd really rather not explain to a stranger... and she can't be sure he's going to be receptive at all in the first place.
In any case, she's out even before sunset, restlessly pacing as everything gets darker and then the stars start appearing one by one. Armed too, but that's by no means unusual. ]
[Because he knows all too well that, even though it's better for the person to be at home, that isn't going to make the hurt go away.]