patheticvillain | fifty-five ➢ spam & voice

Entry tags:

fifty-five ➢ spam & voice

private } mickey

Hey. You busy?

private } beyond

Got something for you.

spam

[Recovering from being disemboweled physically took about forty-five seconds. Recovering psychologically is taking a little bit longer. Cassel takes comfort in simple tasks and routines in the meantime, trying not to think about what happened with Creed or what happened in the Enclosure or what's going to happen next. There's this feeling like the other shoe is going to drop - not uncommon on the Barge, but not something he wants to deal with, either.]

[During the day, when he's not in the gym, he spends time in his room or in the common rooms with yarn in his lap, curled up in an armchair, knitting and purling on autopilot. He has no idea what he's making, which is usually how he goes about things. Eventually he casts off and picks it up, examining it in the light. It appears to be a tiny sweater with at least three arms.]

[He never said he was good at this.]

[At night, a lithe black cat roams the halls. To Cassel's credit, this time he's wearing a little blue collar with a name tag. On the other hand, it took him this long to come up with that, so maybe he's not so smart after all. He curls up on the backs of couches, winds between people's legs, and wanders into cabins behind their occupants, purring loudly and very insistently.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I can meet you at the Enclosure. [a pause.] What's this about?

I told you. I made you something.

It's not my birthday.

It's your unbirthday.

Yes, a day that is not my birthday would, by definition, be considered an unbirthday.

[siiiigh.]

Very well. I'll meet you at the Enclosure.

Edited 2015-06-27 02:48 (UTC)

Cool. I'll be there in five.

[And Beyond will probably be there in fifteen again, because he's a tool.]

[seventeen minutes, to be exact - beyond comes shuffling over to the Enclosure, in much the same mildly disheveled manner he'd met cassel previously.]

Cassel.

[Because he is a Cool Kid, Cassel is leaning against the Enclosure door at the bottom of the little staircase, smoking. He's had enough time for one already and he's working on his second, but he extinguishes it against the door when he sees Beyond coming.]

Hey. What's up.

[He has zero faith that Beyond will know how to respond to that. Turning to the speaker:]

Where do you want to go?

[beyond knows exactly how to respond - by not answering the question, and instead making a hard shift in topic.]

I heard you were beheaded recently.

[Well, that's certainly one tack to take. Cassel sighs and mutters something into the speaker, then turns back to Beyond as the door opens behind him.]

Technically, I was disemboweled and then beheaded, so I don't remember the beheading part at all.

[He backs into the Enclosure, cocking one eyebrow - are you coming? The only part of the room that can be seen from this angle is a wide expanse of scrubby grass.]

So more like harakiri. Except it was done to you, not by you.

[beyond is very matter-of-fact about all this as he follows cassel into the patch of grass behind the door.]

[Past the patch of grass is a whole lot more grass, cut through by a worn-out, dead-end street, at the end of which is a lone house. There are a couple of mismatched chairs on the porch, which is also covered in various odds and ends: trash, home furnishings, several boxes of plastic cutlery, two dog bowls, a yard statue of the Easter bunny, and more.]

[Cassel heads in a path that will take them directly past, but not into, the house, and looks at Beyond sideways, trying to determine how to respond to this. It's a really fucking creepy statement, but then, Beyond is a really fucking creepy dude, so he doesn't know why he's surprised.]

[After a moment's pause:] I guess so. Harakiri's where you gut yourself with a knife, right? It was pretty much like that, only slower, I think.

I've died other times, too. The first time I died, I was shot in the back of the head. The second time, I was crucified with a pair of scissors.

[Is that what you wanted to hear?]

Correct. Japanese ritual suicide, part of the samurai bushido honor code. Committed voluntarily by samurai who chose to die with honor rather than be captured and tortured by their enemies. Also used as a form of capital punishment for disgraced samurai.

[he recites these facts impassively as he follows the path cassel leads, but goes silent for a while when the boy lists off his various deaths. dying once should be enough for anyone. beyond would know - his failed suicide attempt had provided a sort of perspective on the concept. his actual death was another story.]

Which would you say was the worst, Cassel? [his voice takes on a flatter tone for the question. beyond may have mixed feelings about cassel, but he is not ambivalent about the idea of the boy suffering, much less multiple times.]

Edited 2015-06-27 04:25 (UTC)

[He listens carefully, makes a sort of "huh" noise. Things he didn't know. Things he somehow isn't all that surprised about Beyond knowing. What is it about this guy that makes the fact that he sounds like an encyclopedia totally normal?]

Well, I learned something today.

[As to the question - well. That's actually really hard. He frowns, glancing sideways at the crowded porch.]

I - hm. I don't know. That depends on what you mean by worst. Are you talking physically worst, or psychologically?

Because if we're talking physically, the disemboweling, that was the worst. It apparently takes a while to die like that? I didn't know that until it happened. And it hurt. A lot. And I could see it, I mean, me. My guts.

But if you're talking psychologically, I don't know. I knew I was going to die each time. I knew it was coming. And I was really scared.

[He doesn't seem ashamed at all to admit this; it's matter-of-fact. But after another moment's thought:]

Psychologically, the worst one was getting crucified, I think. Because I thought I was safe, and then all of a sudden I wasn't, and it was so slow, and - she liked it. She really liked what she was doing.

[beyond goes quiet for a full minute after cassel finishes recounting his death experiences. each one is upsetting, disturbing - no one should remember their own death in so much detail.

and there's that word again - safe. cassel had said to beyond, i want to make you feel safe. beyond doesn't believe such a thing is possible, and the description of being crucified doesn't lend any help to the contrary.

but the fact remains that cassel's been unflinchingly honest with beyond again, leaving him with that certain rattled feeling, and beyond thinks maybe, under the circumstances, it would be acceptable to give a little honesty back to the boy. maybe it will help calm the unrest inside of him to share another small piece of himself.]

I didn't know. [when he died. it was a complete surprise, for him. it's a tiny thing to offer, but it's more than he's given to most he's met.]

Edited 2015-06-27 04:54 (UTC)

[At first, being honest was a tactic. A trick of sorts. It's how he acts with almost everybody, at first: unflinching honesty throws people off. He's learned this, since he mostly stopped lying, but really it's just another side of the same coin.]

[By now, though, he's just doing what comes instinctively. He likes Beyond - really likes him - and is treating him as though he's known him for months, because that's what feels right to him. Because maybe that will make him feel safe. And even if it doesn't - maybe it's the right thing to do.]

[They're moving past the house, now, the grass a little taller; at the last second, Cassel veers towards the porch. His voice is quiet.]

Do you think that's better or worse? Or does it matter?

I don't know.

[beyond had been ready to die, months before that. he'd known exactly when, where, and how; he'd built himself an elaborate funeral pyre behind a door with a thumb-turn lock. he wasn't scared, then - he was determined.

and naomi misora had ruined everything.]

I think it would have been better if it were ... final.

[It's the first time Cassel has heard anything but certainty from Beyond, who seems to be an expert in anything he talks about. Seems fitting that the first thing he'd be unsure about would be something that Cassel's completely confused about, too. He's spent so much of his life running headfirst into danger, trying to get himself hurt, that sometimes he thinks that too. It would have been better if he hadn't had to come back.]

[He's quiet for a few moments as they climb the stairs, sits in one of the rickety chairs and looks up at Beyond with an expression that's not sad, not pitying, but maybe a little rueful.]

If you'd been allowed to stay dead?

[beyond folds himself into the chair next to cassel, drawing one leg up to his chest, spindly arms wrapped around his knee, chin resting atop his kneecap. he considers, for a moment, how to answer. the truth is an awful lot to confide in someone who is practically still a stranger, and yet -

and yet, beyond finds his mouth opening, syllables pouring out from his throat to hang in the air above the porch where he and cassel sit.]

And if I'd been able to end the way I planned.

[It strikes him in the chest, just above where Creed had struck him - around the solar plexus, so he can't breathe. No, he thinks, but yes, too, because it makes sense, doesn't it. Maybe not to someone else, but to him. He has felt the death instinct. Been betrayed. Been lost.]

[Not lost enough to do it like that. Not so explicitly. He dares someone to shoot him instead of taking the gun in his own two hands, because he's a coward; because he's a Sharpe. But he feels the insistent tug of hopelessness all the same.]

[It hurts, knowing that Beyond feels it, too, and he wonders if this is how he makes other people feel sometimes, at the same time as a small, ugly part of him feels relief at finding kin.]

If you had, would you be happy?

I would be dead, Cassel. I wouldn't feel anything.

[happy isn't the word for it. victorious, yes - because he would have succeeded in leaving L a puzzle he could never solve, and in doing so, he would have proved, once and for all, that he was better than L -

- and not just better. good enough.]

[He exhales, quick and sharp, like he's irritated with himself.]

You're right. Sorry. That was stupid. I just--

[Just what? Wants him to be happy? That's a stupid, selfish want. To force happiness on someone else because it makes you sad to see them sad - that would be something for Cassel, not for Beyond.]

[Which doesn't mean he doesn't want it.]

[He fiddles with the cuff of his glove.]

I'm sorry it didn't happen the way you wanted it.

It's inconsequential.

[that certain hollow flatness to his words again. but it's true - beyond can't change the past. he can't change the fact that he lost his private war with L, and he can't change the fact that he only succeeded in disfiguring himself, causing himself a great deal of pain. he can't change the fact that he did die, or the fact that he was brought aboard this ship.

what he can change, however, is the subject.]

You had something to show me?

[He doesn't quite believe that. Not really. Loss is not inconsequential. But it's the kind of thing he would have said, once - admittedly with different vocabulary - so again, he lets it slide. Just nods and looks out at the grass, which needs mowed, and remembers what the point of all of this was, before honesty happened.]

Right. Something to give you, actually.

[He digs into his pocket and pulls something out: a small, round, white stone, about as big as a marble. He holds it out for Beyond to take.]

[beyond untangles himself and reaches out to take the stone from cassel's hand, wearing a curious look.]

What is it?

voice; private.

voice; private.

voice; private.

voice; private.

voice; private.

voice; private.

action.

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action. cw gore

action.

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action.