I'm sure they already knew... but the act of telling is important.
[ The chance to address things probably unsaid, now lost. Casters draw soothing circles on the skin under his hand. Suddenly, he gets a strange idea and with a short hum, he wonders. ]
Have you thought about writing letters to them? [ Crazy, stupid idea, but it suddenly jumped him ]
[ It is a crazy idea, enough to get Berserker to lift his head to stare at him. Is it really any different than what he does, going to their mirrors and speaking as if they can hear him? Grief does strange things to a person... ]
No...I'm not much for writing nor words. I don't know if it would help at all.
The follow-up was to... burn them. Or throw them into an ocean.
[ Kind of like— get it all out, and then let it go, let the smoke or water carry the message. Caster's fingers trace along Berserker's scalp, up between the horns ]
Just a weird idea that suddenly hit me.
[ It's not like he is very good at dealing with loss either. He just was "lucky" to die earlier than most of his important people ]
[ It seems like Caster has hit a magic spot; Berserker leans forward into the touch between his horns with a pleased hum. Not even the booze has taken the edge off as much as physical affection like this has. They're not bonded, but it still feels pleasant. ]
If you're not careful, I'm going to fall asleep...
[ Might be a good time to wander on home, lest Caster have to deal with a sleeping dragon. Or not deal, more likely. ]
Was I ever careful... [ A short laugh. ] If anything they're not nearly the time of closing the place yet.
[ That's an encouragement. If Berserker wants to take a nap on him, so be it— he came here to comfort after all. They can stay like that for some time, hour, maybe two. Then when Berserker sobers a bit, he could haul him home. ]
[ On both accounts, really. He knows all too well that Caster isn't careful in most of the things he does. There's a certain trust between them know and safety in his presence that allows him to feel safe enough to sleep. ]
Just for a little bit... [ He mutters, his eyes closed. ]
no subject
I'm sure they already knew... but the act of telling is important.
[ The chance to address things probably unsaid, now lost. Casters draw soothing circles on the skin under his hand. Suddenly, he gets a strange idea and with a short hum, he wonders. ]
Have you thought about writing letters to them? [ Crazy, stupid idea, but it suddenly jumped him ]
no subject
No...I'm not much for writing nor words. I don't know if it would help at all.
no subject
[ Kind of like— get it all out, and then let it go, let the smoke or water carry the message. Caster's fingers trace along Berserker's scalp, up between the horns ]
Just a weird idea that suddenly hit me.
[ It's not like he is very good at dealing with loss either. He just was "lucky" to die earlier than most of his important people ]
no subject
[ It seems like Caster has hit a magic spot; Berserker leans forward into the touch between his horns with a pleased hum. Not even the booze has taken the edge off as much as physical affection like this has. They're not bonded, but it still feels pleasant. ]
If you're not careful, I'm going to fall asleep...
[ Might be a good time to wander on home, lest Caster have to deal with a sleeping dragon. Or not deal, more likely. ]
no subject
[ That's an encouragement. If Berserker wants to take a nap on him, so be it— he came here to comfort after all. They can stay like that for some time, hour, maybe two. Then when Berserker sobers a bit, he could haul him home. ]
no subject
[ On both accounts, really. He knows all too well that Caster isn't careful in most of the things he does. There's a certain trust between them know and safety in his presence that allows him to feel safe enough to sleep. ]
Just for a little bit... [ He mutters, his eyes closed. ]