( One string leads to Scott, who's cool, if, jumpy. (Normally, Scott would not be the sort he'd hang out with but apparently Rapture just makes these decisions.) Another string appears and this one he knows he can't follow. It doesn't stop this overwhelming urge to reach out, to check in. If he can feel this person's emotions, this Klaus, then the same is probably true of Klaus to him. All Klaus would feel is being cooped up, annoyed with Stiles, but perhaps also at peace with a friend like Scott. )
I think we're linked somehow. You don't know me. I think I can feel what you're feeling.
( klaus has been attempting to studiously ignore all threads inextricably linked to his fingers, particularly ones of those he does not know. unfortunately, ignoring them so far has not prevented his feelings from being shared, nor this man's from leaking through, and all the complications that seem tied up in that.
it's an irritant, an unwelcome annoyance grating on his anxiety; he has no desire for a stranger let alone a friend to see his vulnerabilities, nor sense them with false empathy.
he nearly ignores the message too, sighing heavily before lifting his phone again — despite his best efforts, it's been impossible to avoid, after all. perhaps best to meet it head-on. )
Yes, unfortunately the connection goes both ways. It seems we're stuck in this pointless and debasing game for the time being. Your name?
( It became unmanageable for Derek, fearing that if he didn't reach out something might happen to a person he doesn't know. That the town could swallow him and his worries whole. )
It's Derek. From what I hear this is just the tip of the iceberg of debasement. All because of a child with overwhelming power. I should apologize for whatever it is you're feeling or, experiencing. Trust me, I'd rather you not. I'd rather I'd not.
( it's been so unmanageable for klaus he's considered breaking every bone in his body in hopes that such emotions and impulses might be dulled in wolf form. it's a prospect that seems more and more inviting. )
I'm thankful for the gesture, though regretfully I do believe it will start and end as such.( a beat, and he adds: )It's Klaus.
( Derek hasn't yet achieved his evolved form. He's far too damaged for that. He hasn't learned. He's only failed and been betrayed. By everyone, it feels like. Have fun feeling that, Klaus.
And maybe a twinge of anxiousness as Stiles fits in his sleep. No. No, he seems fine. Cool. )
An interesting theory, but I'd rather not. I can't imagine giving into such foreign impulses would result in anything but disaster.( personal or otherworldly, in point of fact. )
I don't disagree. This connection isn't harmless. Nothing in this dream is. There are drugs down here, disguised as temporary power upgrades. People injected themselves and from what I can tell, they're addicted. Maybe it is better we try to ignore our string at all costs. Clearly, we have things we want to keep from one another.
( the presence of addictive drugs is hardly an imaginative addition to whatever hell half of deerington is in — but it is a notable addition to the obstacles and twists this place seems to be infamous for subjecting its captives to. klaus puts it on the list. )
Clearly.( it's a reference to derek's consistent cloud of dismay and angst. (no matter klaus has his own hovering over his head.) klaus just barely stops himself from asking about it, just barely stamps down the impulse to help and to fix. for a moment he considers perhaps it might be a distraction — but of course it wouldn't. it would be surrendering to artificial feelings. )Until this is over, then.
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text — un: hale
I think we're linked somehow. You don't know me. I think I can feel what you're feeling.
text probs forever — un: degas
it's an irritant, an unwelcome annoyance grating on his anxiety; he has no desire for a stranger let alone a friend to see his vulnerabilities, nor sense them with false empathy.
he nearly ignores the message too, sighing heavily before lifting his phone again — despite his best efforts, it's been impossible to avoid, after all. perhaps best to meet it head-on. )
Yes, unfortunately the connection goes both ways. It seems we're stuck in this pointless and debasing game for the time being. Your name?
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It's Derek. From what I hear this is just the tip of the iceberg of debasement. All because of a child with overwhelming power. I should apologize for whatever it is you're feeling or, experiencing. Trust me, I'd rather you not. I'd rather I'd not.
no subject
I'm thankful for the gesture, though regretfully I do believe it will start and end as such. ( a beat, and he adds: ) It's Klaus.
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And maybe a twinge of anxiousness as Stiles fits in his sleep. No. No, he seems fine. Cool. )
Is that what this is. A gesture.
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How else would you define an apology for something you have no control over?
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It doesn't need a definition.
Maybe it would be easier if we were in the same place.
( Or would it be harder. )
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Clearly. ( it's a reference to derek's consistent cloud of dismay and angst. (no matter klaus has his own hovering over his head.) klaus just barely stops himself from asking about it, just barely stamps down the impulse to help and to fix. for a moment he considers perhaps it might be a distraction — but of course it wouldn't. it would be surrendering to artificial feelings. ) Until this is over, then.
no subject