IC Inbox - Entranceway

[directed]

Obviously I'm not here right now, but leave a message and I'll--listen to it. Eventually.

Comments

[catchacold]

Yeah, obviously. I ain't talking about infinity and higher mathematics and the actuality of time, I'm talking my own perception. I don't think I'm gonna be counting the nanoseconds. [What was he doing?] I remember my last words. Harder to remember the last thoughts.

[Strange how that works. Leonard has had his mind under control, perhaps a bit too much, throughout his life. It all derails in the end, he supposes.]

Aw. Cute. If you keep that up, you'll have presents for all the good kids come Christmas.

[directed]

[Rip cocks his head to one side briefly, an admission to the greater importance of Leonard’s perception in this scenario. However far removed, Rip remains to his core a Time Master; he needs the reminder to think as someone might normally in such situations every now and then. And as it turns out, Leonard is rather good at it, even when they aren’t talking about death.

Especially so when they are.

He turns to better look at the man when he speaks of last words and thoughts. While Rip has had a few close encounters, he’s never held such certainty that he’s going to die as Leonard had. There had always been the possibility of survival in his own case—thus it’s impossible to know just what he might say or think.]

I imagine the experience must have been quite surreal, to say the least.

[Easier to speak of are the ridiculous notions the closets seem determined to inflict upon him. Leonard suggests using them as gifts, a thought which has Rip huffing out a quiet sigh for more than one reason.]

I’ll have enough for the good and the bad at the rate I’ve been going. [A pace which admittedly has slowed as of late.] Although I suppose that means I’ve spoiled the surprise for you, doesn’t it? Sorry about that.