( He huffs, curling both hands around his cup and thumbing at the rim.
The last of the tension has been efficiently muted, the panic scratching at the back of his mind drowned out to nearly nothing. He's back to being loose, radiating a little calm and chill like's spent so long reinforcing in himself. It's enough, and there's no pressing urge to suck down the rest of his drink — it's definitely not about getting drunk drunk. It's not about going until he's well and truly blitzed.
It's just about...
Managing. Maintaining this for the rest of however long it takes until the anxiety seems to have gone away. His drinking is a marathon rather than a sprint. )
You'd hear people complain about... fake meat. Not having enough space to... train, or whatever. Too many people in a crowded city. Shady corporations. It's all— it was just first world problems. Maybe a little worse than things were back in, like, 2015 or whatever, but still. There wasn't the same...
( His lips press together, and he shrugs like he doesn't know how to finish the sentence.
He does, but this is where he starts to hit his communications-struggle threshold. The point where certain words feel like they're giving too much away, or giving too much insight.
There wasn't the same stress, need, constant fear, hunger, hopelessness. )
no subject
( He huffs, curling both hands around his cup and thumbing at the rim.
The last of the tension has been efficiently muted, the panic scratching at the back of his mind drowned out to nearly nothing. He's back to being loose, radiating a little calm and chill like's spent so long reinforcing in himself. It's enough, and there's no pressing urge to suck down the rest of his drink — it's definitely not about getting drunk drunk. It's not about going until he's well and truly blitzed.
It's just about...
Managing. Maintaining this for the rest of however long it takes until the anxiety seems to have gone away. His drinking is a marathon rather than a sprint. )
You'd hear people complain about... fake meat. Not having enough space to... train, or whatever. Too many people in a crowded city. Shady corporations. It's all— it was just first world problems. Maybe a little worse than things were back in, like, 2015 or whatever, but still. There wasn't the same...
( His lips press together, and he shrugs like he doesn't know how to finish the sentence.
He does, but this is where he starts to hit his communications-struggle threshold. The point where certain words feel like they're giving too much away, or giving too much insight.
There wasn't the same stress, need, constant fear, hunger, hopelessness. )