patheticvillain | eleven ➢ private + spam

Entry tags:

eleven ➢ private + spam

private/video | chris

[Cassel is looking just - crazy excited right now. For him, anyway; he's grinning wide, one of his legs jogging as he speaks.]

Hey, Skywalker. [Guess who got out early. And guess who's caught up with what you've been doing.]

Point one, hi, but I said that. Point two, you totally are a weapon of mass destruction, I don't know why you never used that line on me before. Point three, I have a billion things to tell you, starting with - Star Wars?

spam 1 {mid-afternoon 5/13; deck}

[The first thing Cassel does when he gets out of Zero - besides calling Chris, which always comes first - is he takes Patches up on deck. It's kind of stupid, but he's missed this dog like crazy, and he's more than happy to spend an hour or two in the fresh air throwing a ball for him.]

[For those who know him, he looks weirdly content, like a weight's been lifted; for those who don't, he looks a hell of a lot more like a normal kid than he's ever looked before.]

spam 2 {mid-afternoon thru evening 5/13; gym}

[When Kon suggested he start working in the gym for real, it had seemed like a weird idea at first, but the more he thinks about it the more it seems like - maybe it wouldn't be so bad. So he says he'll try it out, at least, and if he's going to try he's going to start right away. No point waiting.]

[He's still learning the ropes beyond just cleaning tonight, but he's around, keeping things as organized as he can on Kon's direction.]

private/video | doyle

[The camera's on to prove a point: that he's genuine about this, because he is, extremely. Discomfort shows on his face, because he's not used to apologizing, and he can't look at the camera for more than a couple seconds at a time, but he goes for it anyway.]

Hi. Um.

I'd like to talk to you, if that's cool. Here or in person. Or I can just text if you'd rather do that, I - you know. Whatever you want.

private/voice | steph

Do you still wanna skip the apology? Because I have one. Up to you.

private/voice, later | zane

[It's tempting to yell at Zane, or to ask if he's okay, or to say nothing at all, or to go find him in person now that he can. None of these sound particularly right, though, especially after everything he's ~~stalked~~ read over the last hour or so, so he reverts to sarcasm. Decently affectionate sarcasm, but sarcasm nonetheless.]

You're such an idiot. I feel like you should win a prize for being as much of an idiot as you are.

private/text | barron

pizza?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If you were, from his point of view, what would that mean?

[ That Cassel can't be used as a weapon anymore. That he can't be controlled. ]

It would mean . . .

He should want me dead. But I can't die permanently, here. So maybe he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore.

[This hurts. He doesn't know why but it does, and he buries his face in Zane's shoulder with a huff.]

[ He leans his cheek, just slightly, against Cassel's head. ]

It means you're free.

[ He says this softly. ]

[Free.]

[He presses his eyes shut and shakes his head slightly. It's not a no, it's just confusion. He doesn't think he can afford to believe it.]

[ Zane thinks this isn't the sort of thing that happens in a sudden realization. It comes from someone planting a seed, and from that seed being nursed, slowly, over time. Maybe he's the first to say it. Maybe not. Either way, there's not much point in arguing it now. Pushing means being pushed back. ]

Do you love him?

I love Barron. He's my brother.

[And it's true, but it's also a very hollow and meaningless sort of statement. He loves Barron, but there are dangerous, jagged edges to that love.]

[Emotion work fades away, but the effects stay. His mother's bare hands on his cheek, neck, shoulders: they took his love for Barron and turned up the pitch. They took his envy, too, and made that love, and his hatred, too. He loves Barron not only because he does but because he has no choice but to.]

I love my father too.

[ Definitely the first time he's ever said that. ]

But, I think that fear is all he feels. For me. [ Maybe awe, maybe some appreciation. Mostly fear, and suspicion, and an iron-fisted need to control.

And saying this feels so unspeakably disappointing, so terrible, that it's as a weight settling on his chest. ]

[He turns his face up, stares at the opposite wall. He does feel as though he's being given secrets. He doesn't know what to do with them, though.]

That sucks.

[Kon knows this. Chris doesn't. It's in his file, and he's never talked about it. But he suddenly needs to tell Zane. Not anybody, just him.]

When they were using me, Barron worked me to forget. But it's the same, the push and pull, for him as for me, so when he works he forgets things, too. He keeps notebooks to remember everything, and I - rewrote them. For a different reason, but.

When I did, I wrote in that we'd get pizza once a week.

It was stupid.

[ Cassel wanted Barron to love him. Wanted even the scraps of it. He knew there was something that he needed that he wasn't getting, which was the way Zane knew, when he found Vin. ]

Did you? Once a week.

Yep. Until he found out what I did.

And then?

[ He has his suspicions. ]

He was going to sell me out to the FBI. [He pauses.] The cops. More people who would have used me. He was going to tell them what I could do if I didn't work with him, keep killing people.

Too worried about his own power over you.

[ Zane's voice is dismissive, though this, in fact, is the source of many of Zane's own worries. Power.

He hesitates. ]

What's 'pizza'?

Maybe.

[He never thought about it like that.]

Pizza's food. It's like flat bread with tomato sauce and cheese on it. And other stuff sometimes.

They have it in the dining hall all the time. It's good.

Oh, that.

[ He recognizes the description at least. ]

That means he was afraid of you. You knew more than him. He couldn't trust his mind.

No, he can't. And the more he works the less he can trust it. My body bounces back, his won't.

I don't want him to be afraid of me, though.

There are worse ways he could feel.

I know. And I get that it's petty, but . . .

[He untangles his fingers from each other and draws a circle on his palm with the other index finger.]

They hid what I could do from me. That I could be useful, that I could be part of this. [He taps the inside of the invisible circle.] So I was stuck out here. [He taps the outside, the precipice of the edge of his gloved hand.]

Right on the edge of being normal, but not, because I'm a Sharpe. Not inside or outside. Not anything. And then I find out that I was inside the whole time but I wasn't allowed to know about it?

It's bullshit.

It is. [ If bullshit means what he thinks it does. ]

Like I said: they were afraid of you. It isn't petty to want more from your family.

It's just. Useless. [ If it isn't there, it isn't there. ]

[It's only as the anger is draining out into a bone-deep feeling of emptiness that Cassel realizes he was angry. Not at Zane, but at Barron. He hasn't allowed himself to feel angry at Barron since he thought he was lost forever, but now he is again.]

[He's very, very angry.]

[He turns his face back into Zane's shoulder, annoyed and confused. What he wanted was what he saw on television, reruns of crap sitcoms, a big brother who'd sit and listen to your stupid problems and sound like he knew what he was talking about and worry about you some. Instead he got Philip, who didn't care, and Barron, who'd stab him in the back in a second, but . . . sort of cared despite that.]

[Why is Zane listening when his family never did?]

[His words come out muffled.]

I love him, but I hate him too.

[ Zane has this hazy idea, right now, that he is giving Cassel something he needs, and that Cassel is giving him something he needs, and that there actually isn't any manipulation on either side, neither of them forcing the other to be something. It's a shaky thought, and requires a little bit of thinking around before his mind touches on it directly.

Love him but hate him too. He examines himself, seeking out signs of hatred directed at his father. What there is is either new or very deeply buried and only recently unearthed. But it's there.

He nods, silently. Understanding, not interrupting. ]

[When he talks about his family, about what makes them his, he uses small words, because they're too complicated to be bogged down by big ones. It's true of all of them: he loves them, but he hates them too. He wants to keep them safe, but he also wants desperately to hurt them before they can hurt him.]

[This is not a feeling he likes. He wants it to go away. But, because he can't make it go away and the avenue of hurting other people has been cut off now, it turns inward, to self-loathing.]

[His shoulders hunch. He does not cry because Cassel Sharpe doesn't cry, but his hands at Zane's elbow shake. He doesn't miss home or Lila or his mother but he does miss his grandad, who listened like this (but not like this because nobody's like Zane) and who made him feel, once or twice, nearly normal.]

[ Zane has lived the life of a shadow, but he has seen closer, warmer lives. He has crouched on rooftops in the swirling mist and seen one person draw another into their arms, for comfort, for deception, for decorum. Closeness has not been possible for him. Cassel, here, has probably already been closer to him for longer than anyone else he would allow.

Tentatively - ready to stop if Cassel shows any trepidation - he shifts around so his arm is around Cassel's back, drawing him closer. Something of an embrace. ]

[It's awkward, and for a second Cassel doesn't move simply because he doesn't realize what's going on. A couple months ago he would have flinched away from the touch entirely, gotten up and left - but then again, a couple of months ago he wouldn't have trusted anyone enough to comfort them like this. Now he expects this from Chris, at least, and he knows it doesn't have to be bad.]

[He still hesitates, but in the end he allows Zane to draw him closer, feeling small and vulnerable and very stupid. Swallowing hard, he lets himself rest. Even if it's just for a minute, even if Zane moves away and pushes him out again. Last time he was given a gift and told to leave. This is a gift, too, and not only does he want it, but he doesn't want to push away.]

[ He rubs Cassel's shoulderblade with the backs of his knuckles, not sure if that will help with the bare hands issue, but certainly unwilling to touch Cassel with the front of his hand.

He doesn't want to say anything. Doesn't want to jeopardize this by pulling Cassel one way or another. He would offer to Soothe him, but doesn't have any zinc or brass left, now.

Being this still means that the exhaustion dogging his steps has caught up with him. Pewter can't hold it off now. ]