[The double's skin cracks like a porcelain doll. Cater can't really appreciate the horrid crags formed with the way he follows up. Swing, swing, swing.]
[Back at the ring toss, Idia can feel the pain. It's an ache. If it were something sharp, he might worry. Instead, he has time to ruminate with his thoughts. In the end, he just let Cater handle it. What kind of partner was he? What kind of partners were they? He barely even knew what Cater liked or wanted. And, inevitably...]
[... it's a lot of work, for something that couldn't last. He closes his eyes, thinking over the conversations he'd had. Don't tell him. I hate that part of myself, too. He clearly didn't hate himself enough to hurt "himself" though. He clearly didn't love himself enough to assert that he couldn't be replaced.]
[There's the sound of footsteps and Idia pulls his head up from where he was hanging it.]
electric boogaloo
[Back at the ring toss, Idia can feel the pain. It's an ache. If it were something sharp, he might worry. Instead, he has time to ruminate with his thoughts. In the end, he just let Cater handle it. What kind of partner was he? What kind of partners were they? He barely even knew what Cater liked or wanted. And, inevitably...]
[... it's a lot of work, for something that couldn't last. He closes his eyes, thinking over the conversations he'd had. Don't tell him. I hate that part of myself, too. He clearly didn't hate himself enough to hurt "himself" though. He clearly didn't love himself enough to assert that he couldn't be replaced.]
[There's the sound of footsteps and Idia pulls his head up from where he was hanging it.]
... u- um. ... Good work.
[Is that what you say in a situation like this?]