Asch the Bloody (
dissonates) wrote2012-09-22 09:17 pm
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[Action]
[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.]
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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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.]
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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.]
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No. He's not satisfied.]
...what happened to your eyes?
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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.]
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No, I don't know anything. This happened when I- the other- this happened before? When I was last here?
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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.]
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[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.]
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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.
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[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?
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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?]
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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.]
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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.
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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.]
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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.]
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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.]
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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.
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Can I make it for you? As an apology for keeping you out.
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Only if it's for that and not because I can't see. I'm not helpless, I can take care of myself.
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[If there's one thing Guy's never done, it's pity Asch the Bloody.]
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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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He watches Star -waves, hey Star- give Asch directions and quirks his brows up. Good idea.]
Excuse me, [Guy says -because it's polite- before finding his way into the kitchen. Getting tea ready is more familiar ground, more comfortable ground, and the sounds of the kettle and water and cups helps break up the uncomfortable silence that's fallen between them.]
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He should close his eyes- he knows how eerie his vacant stare can be, he's seen it a few times when Luke's looked at him with the link open. But he can't really bring himself to care right now, either.
Speaking of Luke, though... maybe it's time to break the silence.]
The replica really didn't tell you anything?
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[Guy will find out eventually. There's enough people in Luceti who know things to give him a good idea, and even if they don't know he can pry the truth out of Luke eventually.
Guy takes a moment to look at Asch, really look and take him in. The stare is creepy, yeah, but everything else just...]
Your hair's longer than it was.
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It's not as if I can cut it like this.
[His tone is curt, somewhat defensive; it's such a little thing, but he doesn't like admitting that there are certain habits he can't follow anymore because of his condition.]
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I could cut it- [Guy clamps his mouth shut. It's just so automatic to offer.
He turns back to the tea. Shakes leaves into the strainer.]
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