Welcome to Gaia! ::

If he'd known how long she'd waited for him each time, Eurydike probably would've been moved. As it was, he felt conflicted in going, a tupperware of food clutched in his hands as he made his way towards their designated spot - but he hustled nonetheless, because he didn't expect her to wait long.

He was nervous, being out here alone, but he hadn't told Rhys where he was going. Eurydike didn't know how his husband would take the idea of him going off and meeting any part of the negaverse after all the s**t they'd been through, and something about him seemed more tense lately, something... not guarded, but resolved? Kind of protective, even? Was he ******** crazy or something?

Still was still a friend, not an enemy. This was hard enough without getting another person mixed up in it. But he was still anxious. He felt exposed despite the power-up, and he was constantly glancing back and forth, trying to make sure nothing was getting by him. His knuckles were white against the tupperware.

Still was a friend. She was also part of these people that'd done this. And his mom... his stomach was twisting, and even when he saw her there, he didn't really know what to say.

At that, he laughed. It was kind of a weak laugh, but it was impossible not to. “Heh. Love to say that’s why, but it wasn’t really my call.” He tugged the fabric of his headband up a little, just enough to see the thick white bandages that still lingered beneath. “Peg-legged General, ironically. Maybe she wanted a bigger crew.” It was his best attempt at a joke, and better than it would’ve been a few weeks ago. But it still kind of sucked in execution; maybe too soon when the stitches hadn’t come out yet.

“Thanks, “ he said a little belatedly about his promotion, tugging the headband securely back into place with a slight flare of red in his cheeks. He was still self-conscious about the whole thing - and that was on top of everything else. “Wish I could’ve gotten in touch with you, sorry, just - last few weeks have been s**t, “ and she didn’t even know the half of it. “Uh, here, it’s uh - some balls an’ penne, nothin’ fancy.”

To be honest, he kind of preferred blunt; he'd rather blunt than awkwardly dancing around it. Eurydike wondered if Olga would've been so blunt about it or not. She was really forward, really honest - but would she have been able to ask that so candidly? He wondered how she would have done it. Would she have stuck to the humor? Would she have hugged him?

Maybe it was one of those times he could appreciate the way Still approached s**t. Not that he'd say that.

"Removed, " although the word tasted clinical on his tongue, it was over and done without prolonging it. "She put a crystal through it. Don't know her name or nothin', but I'd know her to see her." Then he kind of snorted, aware of the stare, and aware that he was going to get a lot of them from this point on in his life. His stomach dropped at the thought, although he kind of snorted humorlessly then. "More or less, " he remarked dryly. "Could be worse, I guess - I'd say I'm lucky to be alive, but the lady didn't want me dyin', so that ain't really sayin' much."

He did smile, then, although his smile was tired in a way that went beyond exhaustion. "I like cookin', an' this is about the only s**t I've been feelin' decent about lately." He didn't sugar coat it. "Honestly, you're kinda doin' me a favor by eatin' it."

"Not your fault it happened, " he countered smoothly, about as reassuringly as he could, swallowing the tightness in his throat. Never mind you might as well have ********' asked for it. Eurydike didn't really engage with she wanted you to live with it, staring briefly at something far off before answering, "Yeah. Yeah, it's healin'. - bad night, though." The news about his mother petered on his tip of his tongue, but in the end, he swallowed the bitter pill. Later, not tonight. He just wanted to see her, let her know he was okay - breathe a little, maybe. They'd addressed the physical wounds: the emotional bullshit that went into that could wait.

That was why it was such a ******** relief to talk about food. "How you been, anyway? - let's sit down, huh?" He was tired, even if he didn't come out and say it. "Tell me about your week."