dissonates | [Action]

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[Since a certain someone's arrival, Asch has been kind of cranky and not particularly social, which has suited him just fine, besides having to endure appearing more pathetically lonely than usual. It's not like he really cares what other people think of him anyway (usually). Apparently there's some kind of party going on today, which makes him want to go out even less, so he's content to stay inside and keep out of the way. Parties? Not his thing.

But apparently some people have other ideas.

Eventually he will escape the party (greatly relieved to be away from it, whether he enjoyed himself at all or not), and will instead hang around outside the building trying to gather what's left of his dignity before he heads home. He just wants an uneventful walk in the dark (because it's always dark for him) and a long night's rest.

And apparently he's not allowed to do that, either.

Only when he makes it home does he finally take steps towards contacting a certain scientist who can get his body back to normal. Four months is long enough to be fumbling around in the dark without his replica nearby.]

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[Asch goes still at the voice, his body more tense than it had been in months. He knows that voice- he'd know that voice anywhere, even if it had been weeks, months, years since hearing it. His hands are clenching into fists at his sides, though it's hard to tell whether he's looking to attack or just going on the defensive. Even he himself can't tell.

But. It's Guy. The last time he remembers speaking with that voice (because it had just been a voice, all anger and confusion and something he couldn't quite name), they'd been in a hospital room and it had been an exchange between two men who may as well have been strangers. Or enemies, even. Biting words, tense postures, fiery tempers. There'd been hatred in that room, and pain. Too much pain.

The time before that, he'd nearly been cleaved in two.

But that was a long time ago for any of them, it seemed. If this was even the same Guy. The impressions that he'd gotten so far told him otherwise. And that meant...

...he didn't know what it meant. But he's been running away from it for weeks now, and maybe it's about time that he stops. He reaches up to lift Star off his shoulder, setting the cheagle down and shooing him away until he scampers off to the house's front door to wait. Only then does he turn to face Guy- pointlessly, on his part, but at least to show that he's not afraid. Not to die again. And not to hear what the other man wants to say, either.]

Between the two of us, you expected me to say anything first?

[Do you even know me?]

Hah...well, I was kind of hoping you'd get angry and shout at me.

[It'd be a familiar ice-breaker. Guy rubs the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly until he notices Asch isn't meeting his eyes. He takes a couple footsteps closer. It's dark, so maybe it's just the shadows playing tricks on him, but something looks off.]

[There's something casual about Guy's tone that is completely unlike the angry, hateful person he'd been the last time. it's confusing, and startling, and- and a little frightening, not that he'd ever admit it. Why is he talking like- like he knows Asch, like he cares? Like he's someone that deserves a casual tone or a familiar gesture. Like... he's Luke. Or a friend.

When Guy moves forward, it takes an immense force of will not to step backwards to match the distance. He won't run away. He doesn't even want to let that weakness show. But he doesn't want to be too close, either. It bothers him more than ever before that he can't see what Guy's doing beyond the sound of his footsteps.]

Nice to hear that you missed fighting with me enough to stalk me.

[Right, that. Guy grimaces and looks away, scuffing a hand through his hair.]

Look. I know- I know we parted on bad terms. Last thing I said to you was- [He's not good at this.] I just...wanted to check up on you. That's all.

[Parted. On bad terms.

Ha. So maybe it is the other one. Honestly, he can't tell anymore; they'd both left him with bitter memories and a world of hurt. He's not sure he's ready to welcome that kind of emotional roller coaster back into his life.

Guy had said to get some self respect. Might as well start with him.]

Well, you've checked on me. Are you satisfied?

[Guy opens his mouth.

Closes it.

No, he's not satisfied, but Asch doesn't seem open to conversing. What was it he'd said to Asch? That it was unhealthy to be around him, that they were just damaging each other, that maybe they were better off apart. Asch reminded him of things he'd rather forget, and he was just that little bit nastier to Asch because of it. And Asch took it, because Guy also loved him, and it just- It was a mess.

Guy always said, over and over, that if he was gone he wanted Asch to be okay. He wanted Asch to move on, not lock himself up and out and in and here he is, walking around, going to a party for Yulia's sake. Maybe he's done just what Guy wanted him to. Thought he should.

Who's Guy to demand attention from Asch after that?]

I guess I am.

[Amidst his pride, he can't help but feel immensely sad about it. First Luke, now Asch; outgrown again.]

[He guesses?

Asch is silent at that for a while, still tense, but his expression is conflicted now, confused. What Guy is saying sounds right- what he'd expect the man to say. Conclusive. Dismissive, almost. Satisfied.

But... he's not leaving at the same time. There are no departing footsteps. There's no careless farewell. Just a silence that Asch can't bring himself to fill.

Why? Why are you talking to me? Why did you care enough to check on me?

Why aren't you leaving me alone!?

He waits, trembling, desperate, pining for answers to questions he doesn't know how to ask.]

Edited 2012-09-23 05:27 (UTC)

[Guy looks up again.

No. He's not satisfied.]

...what happened to your eyes?

[What-

What-

Asch's eyes widen immediately at that, clenched fists going slack at his sides.]

You don't- [-remember-] -know? L... the replica didn't tell you?

[Falling back on old habits is a weak defense mechanism, he knows, but- that startling realization of who it is- just who this Guy is- it's the one who- it's his-

It's been more than a year, and he's-

And suddenly, suddenly, this conversation is infinitely more terrifying, more uncertain, and he does a mental rewind, going over the exchange they'd had. It makes sense now, what he'd said. How he'd- his tone, the way he- seemed to care-

"What happened to your eyes?"

No idea. He has no idea.]

[Guy takes a few steps closer because something hooks right into his guts and tugs him closer to Asch.]

No, I don't know anything. This happened when I- the other- this happened before? When I was last here?

[The footsteps are startling, mostly due to the fact that they're moving closer, not away, and this time Asch does edge backwards, though he only allows himself one step. For balance. Not... a retreat. It's a cautionary move, that's all.

And inwardly he's cursing Luke, cursing Guy, cursing himself- because he doesn't want to explain what's wrong. He doesn't want to talk about this.

If this conversation had been delayed by a matter of days, the subject wouldn't have come up at all.]

I died. They took my sight. That's all.

[That's all. It wasn't dramatic, or painful, or traumatizing for anyone involved. He didn't have a massive scar from shoulder to belly because the Jewel of Gardios tore through him. The last thing he saw clearly wasn't Guy's eyes, empty of anything but rage and hatred. The last thing he heard wasn't Luke calling for him through the fonic link before it ceased to exist.

That's all.

Nothing to do with you.]

You died?

[Right. Guy remembers...unless it was a battle wound.]

Was it your heart?

[They'd talked about that, too; hell, it had happened. Asch was going to be in a constant state of decay; every time he was brought back, it was with the same weakness inside of him. Luke didn't even have to be present; the damage was already done, during the replication process. Maybe the timeline would be off, but it would happen, over and over again. Asch, the original, would die.]

[Right... Guy had been around for that, too. Asch pauses again, suddenly uncomfortable- if he agrees, then it means Guy could assume that his dissonance and degradation is more public knowledge than he'd care to allow. But if he corrects him, the real death could eventually come out.

This... would be so much easier if he'd never-

That's not his fault. Stubbornly, he squashes his rebellious thoughts and finally goes for a vague answer.]

What does it matter? Dead is dead.

Kind of matters.

[Guy knows he's not being as assertive as he usually is, and it's because of the guilt. Not because they broke up; no, that was necessary. Probably. But the way he'd treated Asch, and then returning to a world where he's dead, and then coming back here and remembering-

It was like being in mourning after the fact. Which is also weird when he's looking at the person he's mourning in the face.]

Is that something else I'm not supposed to know?

[Asch's eyes narrow at that, and not for the first time he hates that he can't see Guy's expression. His voice is telling, sure, but it's never enough for him.]

Why does it matter? You weren't even here, you had nothing to do with it!

[He didn't, but he did. He did it. And yet-

He just-

It hurts. It hurts, and his shoulder is aching, and he can feel the blade in his shoulder and he knows that it's all in his mind, just a phantom pain and an old memory and his arm is fine, there's no wound and no blood. Just memories. Memories and hate and blood feathers flying through the air, green eyes filling with horror, an emotionless face just watching him die.

You weren't here. You weren't here and I died because it was him and he wasn't you.

And he's not sure if he's telling himself this because it's true, or if it's because he desperately wants to believe that the Guy who'd done so much to make him feel worthwhile could never kill him, curse slot or not.

But that's stupid. It's stupid because he'd tried to kill Luke when cursed like that, both times, and if Luke couldn't change that about him then what the hell chance did Asch have?]

[It's really the look on Asch's face that does it. It's the flinch, the way Asch stepped back and it wasn't just to regain his balance. It's the way his eyes can't focus on his face, the way Asch can't see his expression, can't see his hand and the way it's sitting on the hilt of his replacement katana with knuckles tight. It's the way Asch talks to him like they didn't spend hours together, didn't spend nights together, and it's the way that he remembers being home and feeling so damn alone even though he was surrounded with people. Somehow, he'd remembered Luceti, even when he didn't.

Maybe he wouldn't have been able to believe so hard in Luke's return without it.

So Guy takes a step forward, and keeps moving until he's close enough that he knows Asch will either back up or straighten and stand his ground.]

You know, I don't think I believe you. Because you and Luke both, you're being awfully secretive about something that has nothing to do with me. If it was a mission, or one of the third party, or some attack here in the village, I'd know by now. I would know.

[Sure, it's all of those things.

Most of all though, it's that look.]

[Asch doesn't want to move away, but his legs are moving back, unbidden, before he can stop them. Guy is closer now, and his breath quickens, tremulous in his chest and cold against his lips. He's shaken, he's angry, he's trying not to lose it completely, but there's just too much within him right now. He feels like he's going to explode. And how dare this Guy come back to him now, after leaving like that, abandoning them all, allowing that- that stranger to replace him. How dare he return now, after everything, and act like- he has a right to be here, like he should know what he's missed, like it would change a damn thing.

How dare he.

His hand clenches at his side again, shaking, before he lifts it, reaching out and taking a step forward. At first it might seem like he's going for an embrace - anyone that doesn't know him might assume that, with the way he's moving - but if his hand finds anything he's going to go straight for an iron grip on Guy's collar, fighting against the pain on his expression.]

Just- you should just- leave me alone. Go back to hating me, it was easier for both of us that way. Don't act like you care, don't check on me, don't...

[Don't be my friend.

Don't be someone I can trust.

Don't be someone who can betray me again.

His voice chokes, just a little, just enough. He stops, swallows hard. Tries again.]

Just... leave me alone.

[Asch makes a pretty good guess, but only gets one side of Guy's collar and ends up wrenching him a little to the side. Guy doesn't try to jerk away, doesn't move except to widen his stance, and stares down and Asch even though he knows he can't see it. Maybe he can feel it. Guy's staring hard enough.]

Tell me that like you mean it and I will.

[Maybe it's unhealthy. Maybe it's wrong. But this is what they've always been, this is what they are. Two opposing forces, clashing somewhere in the middle, pushing and pushing until the other gives way.]

...I- [And then he stops, because he's trying, he really is. He wants to say it. He wants to mean it with every fiber of his being. Guy is unhealthy. He's unhealthy. Everything about how they interact is wrong. There's love and hatred and longing and disdain and so much brokenness, more than anyone should bear. They've had awful lives and they rotate around a black hole of mutual wound-licking.

It was easier. So much easier with the other Guy, because that one hated him and nothing more. The simplicity of it was addictive. He could take his mind back to how things were before... this... and he could forget, even for a little while.

Why wouldn't he mean it? Why would he ever want this for himself? It's pathetic, the behaviour of someone without self-worth or self-respect or any of the fronts and bravado he'd built up over the course of his life. Fighting in the middle of the street, fists clenched so tightly they might bleed, chest aching, eyes burning, his head screaming end it, just end it now and get it over with.

He says he'll leave. He says he'll leave and it's what I want.

He opens his mouth. Closes it. Curses under his breath, lowering his head.

He can't. He can't do it.

I really am that pathetic, aren't I.

Asch releases a faint, almost guttural noise from deep in his throat, a simple exhale, nothing more. He slumps forward, the grip on Guy's collar loosening, until his forehead bumps against the blond's chest. He hates this. He hates everything about it.

I hate you.

I hate that I still feel like this.

I hate that I can't say what I need to say.

Don't leave me alone.]

[Guy doesn't hug him, not really. Doesn't think he should. Instead, he lowers his head until his chin rests atop of Asch's and screws his eyes shut. The hand on the hilt of his katana clenches it, and his free fist tightens before he opens it to settle it in Asch's hair just above his neck.]

Dunno what we're supposed to do now, but I can't just stop caring. Even if you tell me to.

[Guy can almost guess what's running through Asch's head, but he doesn't know how to say that he's no better off either, pretending not to care. If Asch had managed to tell him to go and mean it, maybe Guy could've kept that up for a few months. But he'd go crawling back, he knows it, because he can't just walk out on- on something like this. On Asch.

They might not ever be like what they were when they were happy, but Guy knows they're never again going to be like what they were when they weren't. He's not going to be like that again, not if he can help himself. Life's too easily taken for it.]

[Honestly, if Guy had tried to hug him, that probably would have been the end of it then and there. Even the hand in his hair is almost too much, but at the same time he needs it, so he endures it quietly, stewing in his own indecisiveness. Without his sight he's dependent on touch, and since he doesn't like being touched by the vast majority of the population, he's cut off from most of the world around him. This touch is familiar. An attempt at comfort, maybe, even if it might be futile. No, scratch that- it is futile, but Asch finds himself not wanting to pull away.

That's probably the biggest reason why he does, though, a moment later, stepping back and glancing aside, carefully composing himself. That didn't happen. That didn't mean anything. He's fine.]

If I can't get rid of you, then you may as well come in. It's getting colder at night and I want tea.

[Guy laughs softly, because that's what he does, and lets Asch go easily enough. Sure. He'll deny it too.]

Can I make it for you? As an apology for keeping you out.

[Asch shoots him a warning glance. It's easier to fall back into the position of servant and God-General without those pesky, emotionally-driven questions making his chest hurt.]

Only if it's for that and not because I can't see. I'm not helpless, I can take care of myself.

Oh, don't worry. It's definitely not for that.

[If there's one thing Guy's never done, it's pity Asch the Bloody.]

...Hn. [There's a moment of scoffing disbelief, but it passes, and Asch relents, turning towards the house and snapping his fingers. Star comes scampering back, climbing up his arm when he crouches and perching on his shoulder once more to direct him to the door. He leads them inside without bothering to glance back- he'll be able to hear the footsteps if Guy follows.

The house, obviously, isn't the same as the one Guy might remember; not just in shape, but the way it's sparsely decorated, sort of reminiscent of Daath, actually. The only colour to be found in the immediate vicinity is a handful of half-dead houseplants and the covers of the many books scattered on various surfaces in the first set of rooms.]

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