[ dextera has been careful not to mention his death to anyone outside of the group he was in—or at least, he hasn’t seen any benefit to talking about it. that hadn’t been the first time he died, and although he always hopes what he went through will be the last, he’s not that optimistic.
he’s surprised, then, not only by gen’s direct comment, but by the fact that he’s asking after dextera at all. ]
…did you get trapped, too?
[ he doesn’t immediately acknowledge his own death, but at the very least, his voice doesn’t sound considerably worse for the wear. he’s actually been doing strangely well in the aftermath. ]
It's an odd flurry of emotions that comes seeping through -- the warm flush of relief, followed by a hasty attempt to tamp it down, chased by a prickle of slightly-forced irritation. ]
Answer the fucking question.
[ Unsurprisingly, Gen isn't the type to be happy about having his questions answered with more questions. At least he pauses for a moment before continuing brusquely. ]
I ended up having to deal with that creepy tree-thing [ so yes, he was trapped, too ] and Amos mentioned he'd killed some mute guy. Dunno any other mutes running around.
[ dextera doesn’t know why gen knows amos. they were on the same side before, that much is true, but dextera never got the sense that gen was loyal enough to get along with someone like him. there’s a ripple of uncertainty, but luckily, dextera’s own unresolved feelings about what happened in that room keep him from pursuing the topic of amos too harshly, too quickly. ]
…he did.
[ he still subtly places the blame at amos’ feet, but only because dextera really was cornered into it. ]
[ Gen practically snarls that retort, almost cutting Dextera off before he's finished speaking. But the fact that he'd bothered reaching out to Dextera at all makes it terribly obvious he's being dishonest; he had be worried about Dextera's wellbeing, even if he's loathe to admit it.
There's a moment of silence afterward, the connection between them dense with discomfort and unease. After all, it isn't normal for someone to be so blasé about having died, and he's not sure how to react to it. How to feel if he's the one who feels more concerned about this than Dextera himself. Sure, he already knows that Dextera isn't really normal, but still ... ]
-- what happened. [ The question comes sudden and brusque, more a demand than a request. ] I know that ... that thing said we could give up a body part or let someone die. What, did you ask to die?
[ even as he tries to tamp down his reactions, if only for the sake of having some dignity in what should be the privacy of his mind, a defensive urge to snap back skims the surface of dextera’s mind in lieu of what might physically look like tensing. he might flinch in fear, too, under the normal circumstances of a physical encounter—but he’s not always so pathetic down to the core. he doesn’t like being spoken to like that.
the moment passes into silence, which is broken by gen’s question. it’s just as forward, maybe, but dextera can read something adjacent to concern in it and he doesn’t mind answering. it’s a situation where he might lean on his forcibly mute nature in the real world, but here… he has to say something. ]
[ Unseen, Gen scuffs a hand through his hair, teeth gritted until he can hear the grind in his ears. Empathetically, Dextera must feel that little frisson of frustration before Gen struggles to stomp it back down. Just -- why the hell did everyone jump straight to killing someone? It's not like the thought hadn't crossed his mind as well, but still ...
-- whatever. That's not the main issue at hand. ]
And -- what. Everyone what.
[ Here, some faint sensations prickle through their connection. The feel of a lighter's wheel pressing against the thumb, the soft click-puff of a flame springing to life, then the acrid bite of cigarette smoke spreading across the tongue. Gen takes a deep drag at his cigarette, nursing it for a moment before continuing, his tone of voice a touch more somber. ]
Everyone just decided you should die, anyway? [ He's loathe to admit it, but he can imagine Amos going along with that. Amos is pragmatic, after all. ] ... who else was there.
[ of course they decided he should die. it was heralded by the archangel, so there was never really any other option. he wonders what might have happened if it had been a group of anyone else—amos probably would have killed dextera in expected retaliation, or if dextera had been with strangers entirely, maybe they could have all escaped with only a finger sacrificed.
it’s over now, though. dextera doesn’t hold the decision against anyone. ]
The Archangel. Someone else I don’t know.
[ dextera knows he’s mentioned the archangel to gen in passing, in one of their earliest meetings, but he can’t recall if it was by name. it’s therefore with only a moment of hesitation that he offers his mental image of the other two participants: the archangel in stark detail, with his striking red eyes, and hythlodaeus hazy from dextera’s lack of focus. ]
[ He immediately commits those two faces to memory. Pretentious, smug, self-righteous-looking fucks. Even without the knowledge of what had happened with Dextera, he thinks he would have disliked the both of them on sight.
So of course Dextera's comment about Archangel pushes him right into the realm of hating the man. ]
Haa? 'Deserved it the most?'
[ His words spark with anger and, more notably, indignity. Indignity on Dextera's behalf. Because Gen knows that Dextera is a messed-up person, hailing from a strange world and shouldering more burdens than would be evident at first glance. Burdens that he doesn't even fully remember himself, if everything he's said is true. But still. ]
The hell's that supposed to mean? -- and you just accepted it?
[ again, there’s the little flash of wanting to fight back, but the forced acknowledgment in his own heart that he does deserve it keeps him from lashing out. he doesn’t like it, but there’s nothing else for him to do. he can only seek forgiveness through penance like this, allowing those with less sin than he to escape unharmed. ]
…I didn’t have a choice.
[ he does say this with a little frustration, some tension in his shoulders in the same distant way he could feel gen lighting a cigarette. ]
[ For once, Gen's response is neither heated nor prompt. Instead, it's a low simmer of something bitter and uneasy that seeps through their connection; Dextera might get the sense that Gen is mulling over something deeply discomforting, fighting to smother that anxiety beneath a flare of his usual anger.
For a split second, he might catch a glimpse of face filtering through his mind. A face that he probably doesn't recognize -- a youth with hollow eyes. ]
... what do you mean by that.
[ Gen's voice is more restrained this time. Though his anger hasn't left, a pervasive exhaustion comes through stronger at the moment. ]
Why couldn't you fight it. What d'you mean, you deserved it. [ A pause. Then, quietly but firmly, with a grim sort of certainty: ] ... do you really believe that, or are you just saying it because that fuck said it first?
Edited (don't look at me noticing broken html ages later ... ) 2022-11-12 02:35 (UTC)
[ dextera may not recognize the person in gen’s memories, but there’s an innate, if brief, understanding of something. a distant empathy, a familiarity in seeing someone like himself. that’s what he’s always looking for, after all: those empty eyes might unsettle someone else, but dextera wonders what they might mean. ]
…
[ is this gen’s baroque? does gen see him as someone else? dextera finds that he doesn’t mind it, though he can only give the answers he believes are true to his own identity. he can’t be anyone else, even if he tried. ]
It… hurts. My heart always hurts. I did something terrible, Gen… I do deserve it.
[ the archangel is just the one who set him on the path to understanding that. ]
[ Dextera's always reminded him of Reiji, but it's not like Gen's ever mistook them for the same person. There's always been too many differences between them for him to fall into that delusional line of thinking -- and what Dextera says now is just another one of those jarring differences that keeps him grounded.
(After all, Reiji doesn't seem to have ever been cognizant of his own cruelties.) ]
... you're not making sense.
[ Gen's too stubborn to quietly drop the subject, even if he's starting to get the sense that that's what Dextera wants. But still, there's a significant pause before he speaks again, and most of the indignant fire has left his words. ]
If you really believe that, you wouldn't have wanted someone else to die in the first place. You wouldn't still be alive right now. [ If Dextera truly believed that death was what he deserved, and yearned for it, he probably would have hurled himself off the edge of one of these islands the first chance he got. ] Is this ... really what you're okay with. Having died for a bunch of people who probably don't even appreciate it like they should.
[ gen is defending him, in his own way. dextera doesn’t know what to do with that. there are people he’s met, yes, who don’t really understand what he’s done and therefore think he’s an innocent victim of circumstance—but that’s not the approach gen is taking, and it’s not something dextera has a defense against.
even through their bond, he’s turned tense, and the next breath that gen draws might feel higher in his chest than usual; it’s dextera’s uncertainty about this line of questioning made physical. ]
I…
[ would gen have appreciated it? he thinks back to the last time their conversation turned so dark, in the midst of the sickness. ]
I’m not okay with it! But I don’t have a choice… I can’t do anything but suffer.
[ Pathetic. Everything Dextera says now sounds so pathetic.
But at the same time, Gen can't bring himself to feel very angry. ]
... is that right.
[ He feels that sympathetic tension ratchet tighter around his lungs, and Gen exhales slowly, slowly. Even if Dextera's end of the connection is growing taut, he might get the sense that Gen is simply letting things fall into place. The faint chill of a grim resignation seeps through the link between them as Gen takes his time mulling over his next lungful of smoke.
There's another significant stretch of silence, though the faint buzz of too many thoughts makes it clear Gen hasn't just abandoned Dextera mid-conversation. Then he finally says plainly: ]
Fine. But at least put up a better fight next time.
[ It sounds like Dextera's already accepted what had happened this time, so -- he'll deal with it, instead. He's used to fighting in the stead of those too spineless to stand up for themselves. It's fine. ]
[ dextera doesn’t know what to do. gen’s mild answer, despite the fact that it doesn’t seem accompanied by anger, leaves dextera at a loss of what the best thing to say next is—so he simply doesn’t say anything, and his cowardice is rewarded in the form of gen conceding to dextera’s insistent agony.
strangely, he doesn’t find that it makes him feel much better. ]
I… I will.
[ is that enough? ]
I don’t want to die. But if I have to, I don’t want to die alone. That’s all. That’s all.
[ in the transition from horos to kenos, dextera realizes he’s speaking more freely with gen than before. he can’t give a reason for it beyond the fact that things have changed. maybe it’s the archangel’s presence, now, forcing dextera to lower himself in the consideration of his peers. where he once regarded gen as someone to protect, his own sense of self has shrunk under the high-noon blaze of the archangel. ]
[ It does feel like some things have changed between them, even if Gen couldn't pinpoint why with as much accuracy as Dextera might be able to. For him, it's simply a shift into strangely familiar territory; he sounds almost matter of fact as he continues quietly: ]
I know that's what you want.
[ His response is simple, almost meaningless, but the emotional between them says more than his words do. There's a deep, aching sense of understanding and empathy to his answer despite his resigned tone of voice, because honestly --
it's what he wants, too. To not die alone.
It's why what had happened to Dextera vexes him so much. ]
I get it. I'll deal with it. [ Deal with it how? He doesn't elaborate. In his mind, Dextera surrendered the right to know that the moment he simply accepted his circumstances. Gen forges on without giving Dextera a chance to butt in, quiet but steely. ] Tell me the next time something like this happens.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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he’s surprised, then, not only by gen’s direct comment, but by the fact that he’s asking after dextera at all. ]
…did you get trapped, too?
[ he doesn’t immediately acknowledge his own death, but at the very least, his voice doesn’t sound considerably worse for the wear. he’s actually been doing strangely well in the aftermath. ]
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It's an odd flurry of emotions that comes seeping through -- the warm flush of relief, followed by a hasty attempt to tamp it down, chased by a prickle of slightly-forced irritation. ]
Answer the fucking question.
[ Unsurprisingly, Gen isn't the type to be happy about having his questions answered with more questions. At least he pauses for a moment before continuing brusquely. ]
I ended up having to deal with that creepy tree-thing [ so yes, he was trapped, too ] and Amos mentioned he'd killed some mute guy. Dunno any other mutes running around.
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…he did.
[ he still subtly places the blame at amos’ feet, but only because dextera really was cornered into it. ]
I’ve died before. I’m not hurt.
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[ Gen practically snarls that retort, almost cutting Dextera off before he's finished speaking. But the fact that he'd bothered reaching out to Dextera at all makes it terribly obvious he's being dishonest; he had be worried about Dextera's wellbeing, even if he's loathe to admit it.
There's a moment of silence afterward, the connection between them dense with discomfort and unease. After all, it isn't normal for someone to be so blasé about having died, and he's not sure how to react to it. How to feel if he's the one who feels more concerned about this than Dextera himself. Sure, he already knows that Dextera isn't really normal, but still ... ]
-- what happened. [ The question comes sudden and brusque, more a demand than a request. ] I know that ... that thing said we could give up a body part or let someone die. What, did you ask to die?
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[ even as he tries to tamp down his reactions, if only for the sake of having some dignity in what should be the privacy of his mind, a defensive urge to snap back skims the surface of dextera’s mind in lieu of what might physically look like tensing. he might flinch in fear, too, under the normal circumstances of a physical encounter—but he’s not always so pathetic down to the core. he doesn’t like being spoken to like that.
the moment passes into silence, which is broken by gen’s question. it’s just as forward, maybe, but dextera can read something adjacent to concern in it and he doesn’t mind answering. it’s a situation where he might lean on his forcibly mute nature in the real world, but here… he has to say something. ]
I wanted…
[ … ]
I wanted someone else to die. But everyone…
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-- whatever. That's not the main issue at hand. ]
And -- what. Everyone what.
[ Here, some faint sensations prickle through their connection. The feel of a lighter's wheel pressing against the thumb, the soft click-puff of a flame springing to life, then the acrid bite of cigarette smoke spreading across the tongue. Gen takes a deep drag at his cigarette, nursing it for a moment before continuing, his tone of voice a touch more somber. ]
Everyone just decided you should die, anyway? [ He's loathe to admit it, but he can imagine Amos going along with that. Amos is pragmatic, after all. ] ... who else was there.
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it’s over now, though. dextera doesn’t hold the decision against anyone. ]
The Archangel. Someone else I don’t know.
[ dextera knows he’s mentioned the archangel to gen in passing, in one of their earliest meetings, but he can’t recall if it was by name. it’s therefore with only a moment of hesitation that he offers his mental image of the other two participants: the archangel in stark detail, with his striking red eyes, and hythlodaeus hazy from dextera’s lack of focus. ]
The Archangel… he knew I deserved it the most.
no subject
So of course Dextera's comment about Archangel pushes him right into the realm of hating the man. ]
Haa? 'Deserved it the most?'
[ His words spark with anger and, more notably, indignity. Indignity on Dextera's behalf. Because Gen knows that Dextera is a messed-up person, hailing from a strange world and shouldering more burdens than would be evident at first glance. Burdens that he doesn't even fully remember himself, if everything he's said is true. But still. ]
The hell's that supposed to mean? -- and you just accepted it?
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…I didn’t have a choice.
[ he does say this with a little frustration, some tension in his shoulders in the same distant way he could feel gen lighting a cigarette. ]
He was right. I couldn’t fight that.
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For a split second, he might catch a glimpse of face filtering through his mind. A face that he probably doesn't recognize -- a youth with hollow eyes. ]
... what do you mean by that.
[ Gen's voice is more restrained this time. Though his anger hasn't left, a pervasive exhaustion comes through stronger at the moment. ]
Why couldn't you fight it. What d'you mean, you deserved it. [ A pause. Then, quietly but firmly, with a grim sort of certainty: ] ... do you really believe that, or are you just saying it because that fuck said it first?
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…
[ is this gen’s baroque? does gen see him as someone else? dextera finds that he doesn’t mind it, though he can only give the answers he believes are true to his own identity. he can’t be anyone else, even if he tried. ]
It… hurts. My heart always hurts. I did something terrible, Gen… I do deserve it.
[ the archangel is just the one who set him on the path to understanding that. ]
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(After all, Reiji doesn't seem to have ever been cognizant of his own cruelties.) ]
... you're not making sense.
[ Gen's too stubborn to quietly drop the subject, even if he's starting to get the sense that that's what Dextera wants. But still, there's a significant pause before he speaks again, and most of the indignant fire has left his words. ]
If you really believe that, you wouldn't have wanted someone else to die in the first place. You wouldn't still be alive right now. [ If Dextera truly believed that death was what he deserved, and yearned for it, he probably would have hurled himself off the edge of one of these islands the first chance he got. ] Is this ... really what you're okay with. Having died for a bunch of people who probably don't even appreciate it like they should.
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even through their bond, he’s turned tense, and the next breath that gen draws might feel higher in his chest than usual; it’s dextera’s uncertainty about this line of questioning made physical. ]
I…
[ would gen have appreciated it? he thinks back to the last time their conversation turned so dark, in the midst of the sickness. ]
I’m not okay with it! But I don’t have a choice… I can’t do anything but suffer.
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But at the same time, Gen can't bring himself to feel very angry. ]
... is that right.
[ He feels that sympathetic tension ratchet tighter around his lungs, and Gen exhales slowly, slowly. Even if Dextera's end of the connection is growing taut, he might get the sense that Gen is simply letting things fall into place. The faint chill of a grim resignation seeps through the link between them as Gen takes his time mulling over his next lungful of smoke.
There's another significant stretch of silence, though the faint buzz of too many thoughts makes it clear Gen hasn't just abandoned Dextera mid-conversation. Then he finally says plainly: ]
Fine. But at least put up a better fight next time.
[ It sounds like Dextera's already accepted what had happened this time, so -- he'll deal with it, instead. He's used to fighting in the stead of those too spineless to stand up for themselves. It's fine. ]
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strangely, he doesn’t find that it makes him feel much better. ]
I… I will.
[ is that enough? ]
I don’t want to die. But if I have to, I don’t want to die alone. That’s all. That’s all.
[ in the transition from horos to kenos, dextera realizes he’s speaking more freely with gen than before. he can’t give a reason for it beyond the fact that things have changed. maybe it’s the archangel’s presence, now, forcing dextera to lower himself in the consideration of his peers. where he once regarded gen as someone to protect, his own sense of self has shrunk under the high-noon blaze of the archangel. ]
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[ It does feel like some things have changed between them, even if Gen couldn't pinpoint why with as much accuracy as Dextera might be able to. For him, it's simply a shift into strangely familiar territory; he sounds almost matter of fact as he continues quietly: ]
I know that's what you want.
[ His response is simple, almost meaningless, but the emotional between them says more than his words do. There's a deep, aching sense of understanding and empathy to his answer despite his resigned tone of voice, because honestly --
it's what he wants, too. To not die alone.
It's why what had happened to Dextera vexes him so much. ]
I get it. I'll deal with it. [ Deal with it how? He doesn't elaborate. In his mind, Dextera surrendered the right to know that the moment he simply accepted his circumstances. Gen forges on without giving Dextera a chance to butt in, quiet but steely. ] Tell me the next time something like this happens.
[ Then he cuts the connection between them. ]