"not here right now.
leave a message. will get back to you soon.
probably."
TEXT
CALL
VIDEO
NOTE: As of 12/2016, Rey has adopted the alias "Fiona Stransky" when working with the Guard. Something to keep in mind, as Rey maintains a low profile with her involvement in the group. Other than what is mentioned in the Guard records, there is no trace of a "Fiona" identified on the network.
[Those are words she expects to hear often since she woke up that day -- sorry sorry sorry. The prospect practically makes her sick inside. So much so that she doesn't answer. Can't. When her phone pings and activity on the network sparks, Rey can't stand to even look at it anymore.
[Removing it from her sight doesn't offer much solace, but she can pretend for a little while that things can be normal again, or as normal as they can be around here. She can go to sleep and sleep and sleep and have visions of things being okay in the middle of horrors and memories. But ultimately she can pretend. Ignore and pretend that the last few weeks she lived was nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
[What does it matter? Did she honestly expect that things with Maketh would go different? That she could ask for forgiveness, just like before all this? Seems like a pipedream now, and it always will be.
[Thus, she'll choose to sleep than to answer, as her one mean of communication to the outside of her blackened bedroom is ground and submerged and silent now.
[She can pretend that things will be different when she wakes, but it never is.]
[It was a mistake to reach out to Rey, he realises, when that silence stretches on long enough.
Maketh was his sister, and family has always meant more to Henry than all else, save perhaps honour. He loved her dearly. As did Rey. In very different ways, naturally, but surely she above all others would understand the devastating blow of Maketh's loss.
It was Edward who taught him that burdens were better shared; it was Maketh herself who showed him that included grief.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
audio; 12th
I am sorry, Rey.
[not here]
[Removing it from her sight doesn't offer much solace, but she can pretend for a little while that things can be normal again, or as normal as they can be around here. She can go to sleep and sleep and sleep and have visions of things being okay in the middle of horrors and memories. But ultimately she can pretend. Ignore and pretend that the last few weeks she lived was nothing more than a horrible nightmare.
[What does it matter? Did she honestly expect that things with Maketh would go different? That she could ask for forgiveness, just like before all this? Seems like a pipedream now, and it always will be.
[Thus, she'll choose to sleep than to answer, as her one mean of communication to the outside of her blackened bedroom is ground and submerged and silent now.
[She can pretend that things will be different when she wakes, but it never is.]
[not here either]
Maketh was his sister, and family has always meant more to Henry than all else, save perhaps honour. He loved her dearly. As did Rey. In very different ways, naturally, but surely she above all others would understand the devastating blow of Maketh's loss.
It was Edward who taught him that burdens were better shared; it was Maketh herself who showed him that included grief.
But on this occassion, well... evidently not.
He will not repeat his mistake.]
[still not here]