[he tries to type more, start explaining, but it doesn't work so well. he gets caught up in syntax, and trying to structure his thoughts, when all he wants to do is just--let this thing out of its cage.]
[so he switches to voice, as much as it bothers him to be heard.]
Look, you... Were gone, for a while, but then it took me somewhere else. Like an Underground, almost, but it wasn't mine or my world. It was some other... place. I stayed there a long time.
And with that, I... Didn't think I'd ever see you again.
[ There's nothing for a moment, just a heavy pause and the even sound of his breathing. Shouldn't hurt to hear him, he thinks, and it does.
Not as must as the thoughts that flick across his head; sharp, angry, blades in the dark. ]
You forgot me.
[ He could be jumping to conclusions, urged forwards by the panic rising in his throat, might not be. It taste like bile on his tongue, acidic and foul. ]
[because he did forget about him. he forgot about a lot of things.]
I know you didn't mean it. I didn't mean to forget. It just... happened. With everything else.
I almost died, you know? Got really close, this time. I did a lot of bad things there. But it wasn't just there, I went other places after that. You see? There's too much. The underground, the above-ground, and the world after that, and I've been here for, ah... six months...?
[he's rambling. it's useless, but he doesn't want to stop because then he'll have to hear Michael's being upset at him, or upset at himself, neither of which he wants.]
[ There it is, the blade in the chest, the familiar feeling after he disappeared the first time. Panic about dying, excitement about dying, clambering and clawing at Robin don't leave don't leave don't leave don't leave, disappointment that he didn't actually die. Turned off, shut down, restart.
Robin forgot. Robin forgot.
Jaw locks, teeth grind, and Michael grips his communicator hard enough it groans underneath the the pressure. The anger rises above the panic, pulls with it a hurt he doesn't want to feel but it settles on his chest. He forgot he forgot he forgot - he considers throwing the communicator, breaking it, breaking whatever he can get his hands but he doesn't. He can't. It's the only way he can contact him, the only way he can hear his voice, or see his face. He's angry, he's hurt, but he doesn't want to throw Robin away. ]
I never did. [ He finally manages, tone unbearably even almost cold. ] Never would.
does he deserve this? he doesn't know. Crow isn't there to tell him yes. where should this anger go? inward or outward? where does he turn the knife? his throat is thick with guilt when he finally responds.]
I'm sorry. I forgot my promise, and you shouldn't forgive me. Not ever.
[ If he could get out of this ship, if he could find Robin he'd like hit him, hold him, growl at him and bury his face into his chest at the same time. Why can't he do that? Why does he have to sit here with nothing more than his thoughts, some kid, and too-clean walls?
He grunts, the sound of rustling fabric as he shifts. ]
Probably. [ It's weird, he expected raised voices, yelling, threats of violence - but Robin's calm... calmer than he remembers. Two years, huh? ] Can't lose you though. Can't─ [ He's familiar, a link to keep him grounded, important. So very important. ]
...I remember you now. You have a pain in your chest that never goes away.
[he is calmer. he doesn't notice the change in himself, since he's close to it. maybe it's what he said about Crow, or something else. maybe he's just sadder, now. humbled. it could be anything.
he continues on, sounding a little distant.] And you growl when you're angry. You hog all of the alcohol. You've got a smile that looks a lot like the harsh side of a knife. You're always showing your teeth, you... Hate being bored, but you like sleeping where it's warm.
[ It doesn't heal the hurt, doesn't mend the wound, but it eases the sting. Michael scoffs, fighting a grin that threatens the spread across his face. He's supposed to be angry. ]
[ Too far, he wants the end of the week to come now. He doesn't want to sit here alone, bored, cold, staring at his communicator as if it was the only thing keeping him from drowning. ]
Tell me. [ He might not want to hear it but he doesn't like the thought of them dangling in front of him like a piece of meat, there but just out of reach. ] Might go better if you do it quick.
[another pause. he wants to tell him the truth, since that feels right, and he's generally been trying to act like "less of a shitty person" lately. but... he doesn't want to send Michael hunting after Tek the second he leaves, for things this Tek doesn't even remember. he thinks Michael would do that, if he remembers right.]
The sheer volume of it might actually make this too absurd to stay tragic.
[ He hears it, hesitance, feet dragging against stone. Should say something but doesn't want to. Michael thinks that is worse; the knowledge of something existing but not knowing the details, letting his mind fill in the blanks. Isn't that what caused the problem last time? Miscommunication, assumptions, all ending with Robin shoving a knife into his chest. ]
Robin. [ Doesn't feel like revisiting that. ] Just do it. [ A pause. ] Talk, want to hear the sound of your voice.
[just one more little pause while he... puts it all in order. a deep breath.]
Well, I... Lived at the tower for a good few months after you disappeared, until I was sent to another place. It was another Underground, like I told you, but it wasn't a place that brought in a whole bunch of other people from all over--it was just me, displaced. There, I... Befriended a populace of trapped dragon rebels, got eaten, got shot in the head, got my organs ripped out, got sucked into a world of bad politics, took up prostitution in exchange for goods, services, and social status, and got in way too deep with the paranoid schemes of of their terrifying madman of a king.
At some point I met a boy named Nel. He was a... slave, basically. I liked him, but didn't know him very long before I almost got him killed. I saved him, but... His recovery was so bad that I ended up killing him anyway, since they would have just dumped him out on the street and left him to die anyway. Gave him a peaceful death, I guess.
[he sighs. it's a little short. if he keeps this quick and detached, maybe he can get through it all without feeling utterly disgusted with himself.]
[ He listens, of course he does, in silence. The sound of his voice alone is comforting, pleasant, make the ache hurt a little less. Maybe if he just talks to him for a week he can live with being stuck here, unable to go where he wants to go. Won't happen though. He's sure Robin will leave him with silence and his thoughts again, the itch in the back of his head.
Stupidly he wonders if his disappearance is what caused Robin to be taken somewhere else, thinks maybe if he hadn't disappeared Robin wouldn't have left. He gets angry and guilty all at once, his communicator groaning under the pressure again. He left and Robin suffered. ]
Don't break your communicator, Michael. Or else you don't hear me at all.
[okay. where... to next?]
After that, I got sent somewhere else. Above-ground on that same world, but a hundred years in the future, maybe more. And Nel was there too, still alive and displaced. It didn't make any sense, and I still... feel terrible because I know his fate.
I met another displaced girl there, too. It was us three against... A wasteland. Another six months were spent trying to keep the two of them safe. I... Don't know when I picked up this habit of trying to help people but it's really... Been throwing me for a loop.
All of us made it out of there, to another place, again, called Court--a place like the Tower, where you entered contracts with one another for monetary gain. Nel wasn't doing well without his world's structure, so I... Entered a contract with him. Made him my property.
Tek was there too. He and I... [this is the place he's most scared of, but he... pushes through.] ...We've become very close. Between the tower and Court, we just... Have helped each other, a lot. I wouldn't be this... Okay, now, without him.
[he doesn't mention the heart games. he doesn't mention that Tek is the one who killed Crow, or how he wrote all over the walls of his mind to bind them forever. that's for the best.]
And then there's here.
[the biggest sigh yet.]
A lot of people here are... Very kind. I've started talking more. I'm tying not to keep so many secrets. I... A lot of people got mad about Nel, because they learned I was keeping a former slave under my order. I understand why, and I let him go, but. It was painful. We'd been through a lot. He's still here, but I can't speak with him.
Many people here are very kind, though. I've made friends, and... I'm trying to stop holding in so many secrets. I'm trying to be better, here. I think, at some point, I just got tired of hurting all of the time. I'm trying to be different.
[there's a little tap-tap-tap as he bounces his finger on the frame of the communicator.]
You'd be happy to know--just last month, Tek died. He came back, but the whole thing was very traumatic. I helped resurrect him. Some guy punched me in the face about it. A necromancer. I didn't kill him. I've been watching Tek for a while. He's in a lot of pain.
And there are others, here, whom I care for very much, but they keep leaving, and I don't know if they'll come back...
[...finally, a bitter laugh.]
But I guess, if nothing else, I should learn to fucking hope for that, right? Instead of just...
[ The creaking stops, as if he listens, relaxing his grip so he doesn't break it. He doesn't want to lose his only current method of talking to Robin, wouldn't be able to survive the week with his mind in tact. It's brittle enough already, itching at the side of his concentration, twisting with thoughts and words still sinking in.
He picks bits and pieces of focus on, words that ring familiar or seem particularly important; wasteland, Nel, contract, property, Tek. The last grabs, forces him into sharpness, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. He rememberz that, remembers the name, remembers how it felt when he thought he had been replaced.
At first he laughs, a soft sound swiftly joined by the clatter of his communicator falling onto the floor. Of course, of fucking course. Who else would it have been?
Pain starts in his chest, like a fire that moves through his veins, scorching. Bile in his throat, fingers twitching as the urge to hit something rises. ] Tek. [ He growls out, just before a fist flies out and hits the wall. The sound is loud, deafening, echoes through the empty room - a thick bang and the crack of bone.
How right he had been back then. How right he had been when Robin claimed otherwise.
Replaced, forgotten, not supposed to be here, not wanted. ]
Yeah. [ Michael can barely keep the growl from his tone, as if his earlier display wasn't enough to alert Robin to the dramatic shift his mood has taken. ] Dying hurts like a bitch.
[ It hardly matters what else Robin had said, not now, tunnel vision has taken him and at the end of it lays Tek. ]
[he thinks he remembers this part, too. Michael gets jealous. Michael isn't a great listener. it hardly compares to Robin's long run of horrible traits, but that doesn't keep it from making this conversation more difficult.]
Yeah, it does.
[Michael can't remember anything about himself; what a horrible feeling it must be, to have been forgotten by someone else, too.]
Can you still listen? Tell me when you're settled.
[ It is horrible, painful, he isn't able to put it to words but he feels like he is drowning. Angry at a man he doesn't know, angry at Robin, despairing. He would have been angry regardless of who it was Robin replaced him with, but this? It feels like an salt rubbed into an already angry wound.
He barely notices the pain in his hand, or the way the skin goes red, just scowls at the communicator. ]
I'm fine.
[ Short, curt, not at all fine. He'll know better, he'll know Michael is lying through his teeth. Not fine, not at all. ]
[not fine. he knows. he was just yelling at a friend about how he was "fine" a few hours ago. he doesn't want him angry, but... he probably deserves it. he doesn't know. it's telling that this doesn't have the bite with him that it should, doesn't rip into his thoughts the way that it might have once done. he needs to learn him all over again.]
Look... This isn't your fault, all right? For what little it's worth, I'm sorry.
[he sounds... steady, but a little hollow. this is a pain he's familiar with--people being disappointed in him, or about him.]
You, of all people, have every right to be hurt. I understand.
[ There is shuffle on his end as he curls in on himself again, staring down at the communicator but not touching it. Might break it if he does. Doesn't want to break it, not his only lifeline.
He wants something else, some else edge of Robin's tone, some sort of assurance that isn't coming. It's selfish, pathetic, but he wants it all the same. Wants things to be back to how they were, when he wasn't forgotten but remembered. When he was held so close he might as well lived in his chest.
The noise that leaves Michael next is smaller, more a whine than anything else. The pathetic noise of a despondent animal. ]
What am I now? [ It's the important question, isn't it? ] You forgot, 'm not suppose to be here. So what the fuck am I? An unwanted memory?
[he laughs, suddenly. it's breathy and faint. maybe a little nervous. but still...]
I was scared you'd hate me, still, after all this time. That's what I thought, when I saw you--that I'm going to break your heart. You have presence here. I care about how you're feeling, even now, and about what you think of me.
I don't know how you fit into my new life, but if you'd... still put up with me, I'd like to learn. Re-learn. Get to know you again.
[ What a odd thought. How could he hate Robin? He tries for a moment to think about it, but he can't fathom it. Couldn't do it, even if he's reaching in and twisting the blade that feels like it was never truly removed. ]
Don't think I could. You hollowed out my chest and lodged yourself in there ages ago. [ He has tossed others aside for less, like a used piece of rag. But Robin, Robin, he's different always been different. More important. ] Feel like shit, but I don't hate you.
[ Re-learn, get to know him again. Not abandoned. Should be happy to hear that, relieved, but it doesn't ease as much as he thinks it should. ]
[that's... not something he should have said, but it's muttered for him anyway. Michael can't see him fidgeting with his palms, remembering the way it used to be.]
You have nice hands, too.
[doesn't hate him? that's more than he deserves. a thousand times more.]
Just get through the week. It'll be easier when we're not stuck on different ships.
[ He rests his head against the wall, tension draining from his limbs, almost exhausted. Fingers grip his clothes, tightening then relaxing, over and over again. Get through the week, get through the week. It shouldn't be hard expect where it is. He hates it here. ]
Won't be easy, don't think I'll be able to sleep. [ Not a bad thing considering how much sleeping has gotten him in trouble in the past. ] Not without the sound of your pulse. It's too quite here.
[it's a very flattering thing to hear. that's why he used to like him, isn't it? that, and his fire. his anger. his unwavering dedication and obsession. he was fun. still is, probably.]
I know. I was never actually on the Marsiva... I think I got here when the trip was just starting.
You might like the ships better. They're shitty, but the engines have a nice hum to them. Everyone gets cozy. The rat vents are kind of cute.
[he pauses.]
I'm kidding. They're ugly. Have you tried ripping out your augment, yet?
[ Calm enough now that he picks up the communicator again, cradles it in his hand. Too far, doesn't like it, he itches to leave the Marsiva, itches to find Robin. What he'll do he isn't sure; maybe just cling, steal his bed and wrap himself in anything that bares his scent for a few hours. ]
Lived in worse places, it'll probably be fine. [ A beat. ] Used to eat rats too.
Ah, well. There's an augment in your neck, under your skull. Feels like a little bump, in most cases.
[...this is nice, just talking about something stupid. normal. he clings to this instead of thinking about going forward, or all the time they're going to have to wait.]
I don't recommend trying to remove it. You'll probably pass out. It's psychologically taxing.
Michael reaches around to the back of his neck, feeling the bump with his fingers. How didn't he notice it before? Occupied likely, hadn't bothered to see whether or not they had done anything to him. Or listened if they told him. Yeah, he's real shit at listening. ]
Well shit.
[ For a moment he considers actually trying to pull it out. ]
I don't like it. I try not to think about it, most of the time.
[because he then has to consider how Atroma could put a foreign object in his flesh without his blood trying to destroy it. even he doesn't have a complete mastery over his own body--how could Atroma have done it?]
[ Information, words, things he knows he shouldn't know but he does. The slight tingle where flesh tries to knit itself back together, but can't. Obstructed. Michael groans, poking at the lump once more before dropping his hand. ]
Yeah? [ A sniff. ] I've always been good at fighting and shit.
I have the enginessss. [he says it through a sudden smirk, through his teeth, since the thought strikes him as hilarious. despite it all, despite everything they'd just said.] Someone thinks it should be up to me to keep us in the sky.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
text - forward dated
Still there?
sneaks a phone tag in
yeah
no subject
I'm sorry about yesterday. And I feel like anything I say is just going to make it worse.
no subject
just fucking say something
you said its been two years
1/2 | text
[he tries to type more, start explaining, but it doesn't work so well. he gets caught up in syntax, and trying to structure his thoughts, when all he wants to do is just--let this thing out of its cage.]
2/2 | audio
Look, you... Were gone, for a while, but then it took me somewhere else. Like an Underground, almost, but it wasn't mine or my world. It was some other... place. I stayed there a long time.
And with that, I... Didn't think I'd ever see you again.
audio
Not as must as the thoughts that flick across his head; sharp, angry, blades in the dark. ]
You forgot me.
[ He could be jumping to conclusions, urged forwards by the panic rising in his throat, might not be. It taste like bile on his tongue, acidic and foul. ]
I didn't mean to go.
audio
[because he did forget about him. he forgot about a lot of things.]
I know you didn't mean it. I didn't mean to forget. It just... happened. With everything else.
I almost died, you know? Got really close, this time. I did a lot of bad things there. But it wasn't just there, I went other places after that. You see? There's too much. The underground, the above-ground, and the world after that, and I've been here for, ah... six months...?
[he's rambling. it's useless, but he doesn't want to stop because then he'll have to hear Michael's being upset at him, or upset at himself, neither of which he wants.]
audio
Robin forgot. Robin forgot.
Jaw locks, teeth grind, and Michael grips his communicator hard enough it groans underneath the the pressure. The anger rises above the panic, pulls with it a hurt he doesn't want to feel but it settles on his chest. He forgot he forgot he forgot - he considers throwing the communicator, breaking it, breaking whatever he can get his hands but he doesn't. He can't. It's the only way he can contact him, the only way he can hear his voice, or see his face. He's angry, he's hurt, but he doesn't want to throw Robin away. ]
I never did. [ He finally manages, tone unbearably even almost cold. ] Never would.
audio
does he deserve this? he doesn't know. Crow isn't there to tell him yes. where should this anger go? inward or outward? where does he turn the knife? his throat is thick with guilt when he finally responds.]
I'm sorry. I forgot my promise, and you shouldn't forgive me. Not ever.
audio
He grunts, the sound of rustling fabric as he shifts. ]
Probably. [ It's weird, he expected raised voices, yelling, threats of violence - but Robin's calm... calmer than he remembers. Two years, huh? ] Can't lose you though. Can't─ [ He's familiar, a link to keep him grounded, important. So very important. ]
audio
[he is calmer. he doesn't notice the change in himself, since he's close to it. maybe it's what he said about Crow, or something else. maybe he's just sadder, now. humbled. it could be anything.
he continues on, sounding a little distant.] And you growl when you're angry. You hog all of the alcohol. You've got a smile that looks a lot like the harsh side of a knife. You're always showing your teeth, you... Hate being bored, but you like sleeping where it's warm.
audio
[ It doesn't heal the hurt, doesn't mend the wound, but it eases the sting. Michael scoffs, fighting a grin that threatens the spread across his face. He's supposed to be angry. ]
And boring.
audio
[there's a pause, but it's not as heavy as it was before...]
I've got a long list of bad things I don't want to tell you. It'll get worse before it gets better.
audio
[ Too far, he wants the end of the week to come now. He doesn't want to sit here alone, bored, cold, staring at his communicator as if it was the only thing keeping him from drowning. ]
Tell me. [ He might not want to hear it but he doesn't like the thought of them dangling in front of him like a piece of meat, there but just out of reach. ] Might go better if you do it quick.
audio
[another pause. he wants to tell him the truth, since that feels right, and he's generally been trying to act like "less of a shitty person" lately. but... he doesn't want to send Michael hunting after Tek the second he leaves, for things this Tek doesn't even remember. he thinks Michael would do that, if he remembers right.]
The sheer volume of it might actually make this too absurd to stay tragic.
audio
[ He hears it, hesitance, feet dragging against stone. Should say something but doesn't want to. Michael thinks that is worse; the knowledge of something existing but not knowing the details, letting his mind fill in the blanks. Isn't that what caused the problem last time? Miscommunication, assumptions, all ending with Robin shoving a knife into his chest. ]
Robin. [ Doesn't feel like revisiting that. ] Just do it. [ A pause. ] Talk, want to hear the sound of your voice.
audio
[just one more little pause while he... puts it all in order. a deep breath.]
Well, I... Lived at the tower for a good few months after you disappeared, until I was sent to another place. It was another Underground, like I told you, but it wasn't a place that brought in a whole bunch of other people from all over--it was just me, displaced. There, I... Befriended a populace of trapped dragon rebels, got eaten, got shot in the head, got my organs ripped out, got sucked into a world of bad politics, took up prostitution in exchange for goods, services, and social status, and got in way too deep with the paranoid schemes of of their terrifying madman of a king.
At some point I met a boy named Nel. He was a... slave, basically. I liked him, but didn't know him very long before I almost got him killed. I saved him, but... His recovery was so bad that I ended up killing him anyway, since they would have just dumped him out on the street and left him to die anyway. Gave him a peaceful death, I guess.
[he sighs. it's a little short. if he keeps this quick and detached, maybe he can get through it all without feeling utterly disgusted with himself.]
Still following me?
audio
Stupidly he wonders if his disappearance is what caused Robin to be taken somewhere else, thinks maybe if he hadn't disappeared Robin wouldn't have left. He gets angry and guilty all at once, his communicator groaning under the pressure again. He left and Robin suffered. ]
Yeah.
audio
[okay. where... to next?]
After that, I got sent somewhere else. Above-ground on that same world, but a hundred years in the future, maybe more. And Nel was there too, still alive and displaced. It didn't make any sense, and I still... feel terrible because I know his fate.
I met another displaced girl there, too. It was us three against... A wasteland. Another six months were spent trying to keep the two of them safe. I... Don't know when I picked up this habit of trying to help people but it's really... Been throwing me for a loop.
All of us made it out of there, to another place, again, called Court--a place like the Tower, where you entered contracts with one another for monetary gain. Nel wasn't doing well without his world's structure, so I... Entered a contract with him. Made him my property.
Tek was there too. He and I... [this is the place he's most scared of, but he... pushes through.] ...We've become very close. Between the tower and Court, we just... Have helped each other, a lot. I wouldn't be this... Okay, now, without him.
[he doesn't mention the heart games. he doesn't mention that Tek is the one who killed Crow, or how he wrote all over the walls of his mind to bind them forever. that's for the best.]
And then there's here.
[the biggest sigh yet.]
A lot of people here are... Very kind. I've started talking more. I'm tying not to keep so many secrets. I... A lot of people got mad about Nel, because they learned I was keeping a former slave under my order. I understand why, and I let him go, but. It was painful. We'd been through a lot. He's still here, but I can't speak with him.
Many people here are very kind, though. I've made friends, and... I'm trying to stop holding in so many secrets. I'm trying to be better, here. I think, at some point, I just got tired of hurting all of the time. I'm trying to be different.
[there's a little tap-tap-tap as he bounces his finger on the frame of the communicator.]
You'd be happy to know--just last month, Tek died. He came back, but the whole thing was very traumatic. I helped resurrect him. Some guy punched me in the face about it. A necromancer. I didn't kill him. I've been watching Tek for a while. He's in a lot of pain.
And there are others, here, whom I care for very much, but they keep leaving, and I don't know if they'll come back...
[...finally, a bitter laugh.]
But I guess, if nothing else, I should learn to fucking hope for that, right? Instead of just...
audio
He picks bits and pieces of focus on, words that ring familiar or seem particularly important; wasteland, Nel, contract, property, Tek. The last grabs, forces him into sharpness, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. He rememberz that, remembers the name, remembers how it felt when he thought he had been replaced.
At first he laughs, a soft sound swiftly joined by the clatter of his communicator falling onto the floor. Of course, of fucking course. Who else would it have been?
Pain starts in his chest, like a fire that moves through his veins, scorching. Bile in his throat, fingers twitching as the urge to hit something rises. ] Tek. [ He growls out, just before a fist flies out and hits the wall. The sound is loud, deafening, echoes through the empty room - a thick bang and the crack of bone.
How right he had been back then. How right he had been when Robin claimed otherwise.
Replaced, forgotten, not supposed to be here, not wanted. ]
Yeah. [ Michael can barely keep the growl from his tone, as if his earlier display wasn't enough to alert Robin to the dramatic shift his mood has taken. ] Dying hurts like a bitch.
[ It hardly matters what else Robin had said, not now, tunnel vision has taken him and at the end of it lays Tek. ]
audio
Yeah, it does.
[Michael can't remember anything about himself; what a horrible feeling it must be, to have been forgotten by someone else, too.]
Can you still listen? Tell me when you're settled.
audio
He barely notices the pain in his hand, or the way the skin goes red, just scowls at the communicator. ]
I'm fine.
[ Short, curt, not at all fine. He'll know better, he'll know Michael is lying through his teeth. Not fine, not at all. ]
audio
Look... This isn't your fault, all right? For what little it's worth, I'm sorry.
[he sounds... steady, but a little hollow. this is a pain he's familiar with--people being disappointed in him, or about him.]
You, of all people, have every right to be hurt. I understand.
audio
He wants something else, some else edge of Robin's tone, some sort of assurance that isn't coming. It's selfish, pathetic, but he wants it all the same. Wants things to be back to how they were, when he wasn't forgotten but remembered. When he was held so close he might as well lived in his chest.
The noise that leaves Michael next is smaller, more a whine than anything else. The pathetic noise of a despondent animal. ]
What am I now? [ It's the important question, isn't it? ] You forgot, 'm not suppose to be here. So what the fuck am I? An unwanted memory?
audio
[he laughs, suddenly. it's breathy and faint. maybe a little nervous. but still...]
I was scared you'd hate me, still, after all this time. That's what I thought, when I saw you--that I'm going to break your heart. You have presence here. I care about how you're feeling, even now, and about what you think of me.
I don't know how you fit into my new life, but if you'd... still put up with me, I'd like to learn. Re-learn. Get to know you again.
audio
[ What a odd thought. How could he hate Robin? He tries for a moment to think about it, but he can't fathom it. Couldn't do it, even if he's reaching in and twisting the blade that feels like it was never truly removed. ]
Don't think I could. You hollowed out my chest and lodged yourself in there ages ago. [ He has tossed others aside for less, like a used piece of rag. But Robin, Robin, he's different always been different. More important. ] Feel like shit, but I don't hate you.
[ Re-learn, get to know him again. Not abandoned. Should be happy to hear that, relieved, but it doesn't ease as much as he thinks it should. ]
Yeah.
audio
[that's... not something he should have said, but it's muttered for him anyway. Michael can't see him fidgeting with his palms, remembering the way it used to be.]
You have nice hands, too.
[doesn't hate him? that's more than he deserves. a thousand times more.]
Just get through the week. It'll be easier when we're not stuck on different ships.
audio
[ He rests his head against the wall, tension draining from his limbs, almost exhausted. Fingers grip his clothes, tightening then relaxing, over and over again. Get through the week, get through the week. It shouldn't be hard expect where it is. He hates it here. ]
Won't be easy, don't think I'll be able to sleep. [ Not a bad thing considering how much sleeping has gotten him in trouble in the past. ] Not without the sound of your pulse. It's too quite here.
audio
I know. I was never actually on the Marsiva... I think I got here when the trip was just starting.
You might like the ships better. They're shitty, but the engines have a nice hum to them. Everyone gets cozy. The rat vents are kind of cute.
[he pauses.]
I'm kidding. They're ugly. Have you tried ripping out your augment, yet?
audio
Lived in worse places, it'll probably be fine. [ A beat. ] Used to eat rats too.
[ The next pause is longer... ]
No?
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[...this is nice, just talking about something stupid. normal. he clings to this instead of thinking about going forward, or all the time they're going to have to wait.]
I don't recommend trying to remove it. You'll probably pass out. It's psychologically taxing.
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Michael reaches around to the back of his neck, feeling the bump with his fingers. How didn't he notice it before? Occupied likely, hadn't bothered to see whether or not they had done anything to him. Or listened if they told him. Yeah, he's real shit at listening. ]
Well shit.
[ For a moment he considers actually trying to pull it out. ]
Think I'll pass.
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You'll probably find that it went and put a few things in your head. Information, mostly. Got any idea which job you're supposed to have?
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Yeah it's... [ How he explain it? It's weird for anyone, but for him it's even worse. He doesn't just know things. He never has. ] uncomfortable.
Something about security.
[ Fingers press into skin, press against the augment, and he hisses. ]
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[because he then has to consider how Atroma could put a foreign object in his flesh without his blood trying to destroy it. even he doesn't have a complete mastery over his own body--how could Atroma have done it?]
Figures you'd get the guns, though.
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[ Information, words, things he knows he shouldn't know but he does. The slight tingle where flesh tries to knit itself back together, but can't. Obstructed. Michael groans, poking at the lump once more before dropping his hand. ]
Yeah? [ A sniff. ] I've always been good at fighting and shit.
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Who that that was a good idea?
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You missed the space fight, though. That was a riot.
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[ He already misses the feel of solid ground beneath his feet. ]
Really? Damn.