#syndrigvalor

@syndrigvalor said: you know, i am not as mean as i would like to be. and i think people should appreciate that more. and i'm not saying she deserved it, but i am saying that god's timing is always riiiiight. — from rj decker

Chaotic Unhinged Prompts

The statement amuses her. With one brow arched and a quirk of her lips, she slows her stirring. The aromatic scent of hibiscus and ginger tea fills the air, permeating the silence with a sweet spice that only punctuates the weight of what she's about to say.

"RJ, I don't think you have it in you to genuinely be mean." She muses, returning her gaze to her tea cup and adding a tablespoon of honey. "I've seen you threaten people, and I've seen the way you fight. And I genuinely don't think you have a mean bone in your body."

It's not intended to be dismissive. It's simply a statement of observation.

He could be sarcastic. He could be firm. He could be protective. But he couldn't be mean. That would imply a capability to be unjustly cruel without rhyme or reason. And that just... wasn't him. His approach to things was always done in earnest and with the best intentions in mind; and even when he was upset he kept a cool head and responded proportionally in a way that felt like justice - not revenge or vindication. He was a better man than her in that way.

"And that's a good thing. Really. It means that despite all the cruelties that've been unfairly levied onto you, you've managed to avoid letting them make you cruel yourself. You've stayed gentle, and kind, and fair. And that's something that people should be appreciative of."

@syndrigvalor said: “  you know,  sometimes you don’t have to find the answers.  i think it can be enough to just admit you’re lost.  for now.  ” + “  why do you keep saying that?  you’re not alone.  i’m standing right here.  ”

Deeper Sentence Prompts

Sweet as the sentiments are, Rayn has never been one to accept either.

Investigative work was equal parts love and frustration for her. The investigative aspects -- the evidence to be uncovered, the stories to pick apart, the common lines and the information to cross-reference -- that was what she loved. The intellectual stimulation of digging into something, of deducing an answer, of solving a problem - she lived for it. The satisfaction that came with finding the truth and dishing out accountability felt like scratching an ancient, instinctual itch, feeding a craving baked into the very fibers of her DNA.

But that also meant that a lack of answers, a lack of understanding, a lack of solutions became a burden - a parasite. It nagged at her, eating away at her mind, making her anxious and feeding a kind of compulsion that made her borderline desperate, that drove her even when she had no drive left. She couldn't rest until a case was closed. Her mind wouldn't let her. And of course, it didn't help that she felt obligated to work at it non-stop until she did. Some sick mix of needed validation and the crushing weight of feeling like she was failing someone if she wasn't working to get the answers made for a hell of hot coals beneath her feet, forcing her to keep moving, keep working.

"I'm not lost. I can't be." She insists, biting the words out with just a bit more harshness than is probably necessary. She doesn't mean to, of course. But she hasn't slept in days. The dark circles under eyes and the empty coffee cups stacked up in the trashcan by her desk betray that fact. Her leg bounces insistently, hair mussed from constantly running her fingers through, palms pressed against her forehead as she will herself to focus on the papers in front of her.

"You don't get it."

Finally, she snaps. She looks up at him, a mix of exhaustion, frustration, and desperation coloring her deep blue eyes. She wants to be mad at him for not understanding, but she can't be. Because he can't. And even if he could, it's not his fault. He's just doing his best to try and comfort her. To help.

Just like she is.

She forces herself to breathe, sinking back into her seat. Both palms press into her eyes as she squeezes them shut.

"I have to figure this out. I have to. This family is scared and desperate and they're counting on me to get them answers. To find their loved one or else tell them what happened to them. They're relying on my help. They're depending on me. I can't let them down. I can't fail them..."

you can tell it's rj who filled this out because it looks like absolute SHIT. there's a few that could count, but he wouldn't perceive it himself because it's "common sense" (ex: eco warrior, art appreciator), so he doesn't mark it.

also yes... trans "ally"... 🤭 - @syndrigvalor

"You're... not good at bingo, are you, coconut?"

"You're definitely an eco-warrior type, and you definitely appreciate art more than the average joe. And don't sell yourself short - you do a great job handling the sensitive stuff with the care it needs. And you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. You wouldn't be a PI otherwise, would ya?"