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[stonecoldtop]

"George speaking, how may I help you?"

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[spaghettification]

It’s good. Others have offered to get their revenge, already, but what Siebren needs more now is support. An anchor for his hot-air balloon self to tether to, for a moment or for more. He settles his hand atop George’s gingerly.

“Deserving is a lie. The world doesn’t keep a tally of what is owed, as much as the gambler’s fallacy insists otherwise.”

[stonecoldtop]

George squeezes Siebren's hand gently, he can be a grounding force, that much he knows will do gladly.

"I'd say one can deserve without being owed, but perhaps it's not the right word either way."

[spaghettification]

“I want more than that. Regardless of anything like deserving. And I am slowly figuring out how to…” a pause, as he realizes how fucking new age the next words that we’re going to come out of his mouth were. …manifest my desire, really, what is he? Some sort of almond mom?

[stonecoldtop]

George doesn't precisely know how that sentence was supposed to end, but he can make a guess at the shape of it. The scent of leather conditioner that always hangs over him grows a little stronger as his Mantle swells for Spring of it.

"That's very important work," he says, and he means it, "What do you want?"

[spaghettification]

“To live. To build a life that recognizes the aftermath of my pain, without revolving around it. To walk forward and try new things, even things I feel fear or trepidation about. To build bonds with people who I choose to trust, not just who I am forced to obey.”

Is any of this really news? No, not as such. But something in it feels powerful to say aloud.

[stonecoldtop]

"All wonderful things to want, " George says warmly, "I'm honoured that you trust me enough to share them. I hope you'll tell me if I can help in the pursuit."

[spaghettification]

"You already are helping, and I think you know that." Siebren lets out a bit of a warm laugh. "You've been kind to me in a way I had grown not to expect."