Their mouths fall open in unison; Erika's just for a startled moment, there and gone, and Wormmon's more theatrically, mandibles parting with a tiny squeak. She fumbles to reattach the silk, then falls to the ground, and scuttles back and forth fretfully - excitedly! with great concern! and a good bit of indignation! - before bouncing over and up to the foot of Erika's bed, staring at Akechi and quivering faintly.
Erika, meanwhile, closes her mouth, drops her hand, and sits up straight.]
Akechi?
It is you!
[Wormmon grabs the sheet in four of her feet and worries at it ferociously. Erika leans forward, as if to take hold of her, but doesn't quite get there. Something about letting the-creature-that-is-not-Wormmon just talk feels...inappropriate. Anxiety-inducing. But also not? What she says is right. What she says isn't right. Either way, trying to silence her makes something in Erika thrash and protest.]
Look who's talking! We were worried! We wanted to-
-did you get any of my -
[-messages. Requests for rendezvouses that petered off, then attempted check-ins that also petered off, then plausibly-deniable status updates on the station in general. She'd thought about pressing it, showing up in person, but then everything with the androids happened, and she'd figured that her interference could do more hurt than help. But maybe she'd been wrong? Maybe she'd abandoned him? Maybe that's a thing she's capable of doing now?? She just blinks, bewildered, and struck with trepidation.
Wormmon picks up where she'd been cut off, undeterred but still agitated.]
no subject
Their mouths fall open in unison; Erika's just for a startled moment, there and gone, and Wormmon's more theatrically, mandibles parting with a tiny squeak. She fumbles to reattach the silk, then falls to the ground, and scuttles back and forth fretfully - excitedly! with great concern! and a good bit of indignation! - before bouncing over and up to the foot of Erika's bed, staring at Akechi and quivering faintly.
Erika, meanwhile, closes her mouth, drops her hand, and sits up straight.]
Akechi?
It is you!
[Wormmon grabs the sheet in four of her feet and worries at it ferociously. Erika leans forward, as if to take hold of her, but doesn't quite get there. Something about letting the-creature-that-is-not-Wormmon just talk feels...inappropriate. Anxiety-inducing. But also not? What she says is right. What she says isn't right. Either way, trying to silence her makes something in Erika thrash and protest.]
Look who's talking! We were worried! We wanted to-
-did you get any of my -
[-messages. Requests for rendezvouses that petered off, then attempted check-ins that also petered off, then plausibly-deniable status updates on the station in general. She'd thought about pressing it, showing up in person, but then everything with the androids happened, and she'd figured that her interference could do more hurt than help. But maybe she'd been wrong? Maybe she'd abandoned him? Maybe that's a thing she's capable of doing now?? She just blinks, bewildered, and struck with trepidation.
Wormmon picks up where she'd been cut off, undeterred but still agitated.]
Akechiiiii. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry.