awashlogs | [open] feeling numb most of the time

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arsene lupin

[open] feeling numb most of the time

WHO: Cairngorm and others
WHERE: the harbor, around town, gem haus which has air conditioning
WHEN: late july into early august
WHAT: Cairngorm comes back from dying! They zone out by the water for a while before wandering back into town after their existential crisis.
WARNINGS: possible mentions of suicidal ideation

i. the wallowing option

[ When they wake up, they’re in one piece.

Miraculously, maybe. Whether it’s by fate or by the hands of a mysterious other power here, they can’t ever know, but when they wake up, their sketchy body is one white blob as opposed to several dismembered white blobs. With the number of people who have died, it’s only natural that no one can tell who they are with this vague appearance - practically everyone is trying to suss out who each white blob is. That’s fine by them. They don’t make an effort to try and let people know who they are, not responding to people’s guesses or flat out avoiding making contact with others. They aren’t ready to speak to anyone, and it’s a comfortable familiarity to shrink back into inexistence, especially after something so hard for them to grasp going through.

Once they start to regain color and their features, they take to laying near the cliffs overlooking the harbor, legs dangling over the edge. They either don’t care that their weight could send them tumbling down the cliffside into the water below (people like Magilou are the first to know they break these cliffs when they get too close to the edge), or don’t think it’s a possibility - but with Cairngorm’s characteristically cautious attitude, it seems more likely that it’s the former.

They can be found laying there at any point in the time of their transformation back into full gem-ness, sometimes staring blankly at the sky, merely taking in sunlight, and at other times, eyes closed calmly. If seen from a distance, it might be easy to guess that it’s them lying out there with the unnatural stillness that they lay there for more than a full day, not needing to eat or do anything else - and most of all, even letting insects crawl and land on them without so much as a flinch. It seems like they’re wholly zoned out, not even reacting to any obvious sounds of someone approaching - to any onlooker, they truly look like a lifeless statue. ]

ii. the not wallowing option

[ With the heatwave that’s in town, they’re spending as much time in the sun as they can. Will taking in light from the sun reverse the effects of their death? Probably not. But they suspect that they still need the sun’s rays to completely heal from being broken apart like they were in the forest - there were still seams at their neck and thighs from the breaks, so they’ve washed off all their powder, leaving them walking around town in their powderless form. It may be the first time since many people of the town have seen Cairngorm’s powderless form, dark and inky as opposed to the stark white powder they have on. What’s more is that they seem to be lacking their usual luster on the account of still regaining all their features, the living jewel seeming strangely matte despite the lack of powder that mutes the shine of their skin.

When they finally come back to town from ruminating by the harbor for a few days, definitely later than some of the other revived, they do what they can to act normal, taking a path straight through the center of town back to their home in Flavo. Whether they catch your eye because you’re a friend relieved to see them back, or just someone surprised by their dark form, they give you a Look that’s half confusion and half concern. ]

...Staring at me, are you?

[ It’s awkward, and they’re hoping hoping hoping it’s just the luster that’s earning them attention rather than their brush with mortality. ]

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[ Dread. That's what this is. It's not like Lupin to dread anything, but there's little else left for him to feel after the third week without seeing them begins. He has not given up; he never gives up. He's canvassed the town up and down, checked the forums to make sure there's still color in their name; he's even gone against his own basic rules and ventured out into the forest, alone, foolishly, but a man can do little else but act foolishly when the person he loves is in danger. They're immortal, so surely, they're still here somewhere. He'd been trapped as a tree, freed by the self-sacrifice of a friend's blood. Cairngorm probably was, too. The others had died, but they're different. They have to still be out there.

He believes in it, as hard as he can. But the doubt lingers. He tries not to think about it. He's invested so much of his heart into them, so much of his love that it nearly overshadows all the trouble and stress of living here, and the thought that it could all vanish overnight is so horrible he can't even consider it. Still, even without considering it, the possibility looms, dark and terrible, and he's not going to be able to run away from it for much longer.

It's not entirely pure chance that he winds up by the cliffs. The project with the boat is still ongoing, after all; his personal distress shouldn't derail it. A glint from the edge of one of them is what draws his interest. Simple curiosity. It's not until he gets nearer that he realizes what he's looking at, and he calls out with breathless desperation. ]

-- Cairn? Cairn!

[ Their expression falters as soon as they hear him. They knew Lupin would find them eventually, but what they didn't know was how he was going to react. They'd never ended up crossing paths with him in the forest, and they're not sure what happened after their head got cut off; whether he knew about their "death" or not, if it can really be called that. That's what people who come back as these forms have always said about what happened to them - that they "died."

He probably doesn't know, is what they decide on, considering the desperation in his voice. They only move their chin slightly towards the sound of his voice, finally blinking away some of the butterflies that had been resting on their features. What are they supposed to do? They're torn between wanting to fall into him, rely on him to soothe their wandering thoughts, and wanting to push him away as far as they can, before the two of them have to have this inevitably painful conversation. Both feelings leave a bittersweet ache that grows stronger as he gets closer, their eyes slowly moving to look up and behind them as he gets within speaking distance, keeping the rest of their body still. ]

...Lupin.

[ Their voice is smooth and quiet, only just loud enough for the distance between them. They don't, or maybe can't say anything else, eyes meeting his and softening a little just like they always do, even if their expression remains gloomy. They should reach a hand out to him, or something, but they don't, hand tensing in the grass beside them instead. ]

Edited 2019-08-05 06:31 (UTC)

[ He rushes over like they'll vanish again if he doesn't hurry, only slowing down once he's close enough to be sure it's them and they're there. They said his name. The timing isn't right for this to be a trick played by the town. With a heavy, soundless sigh, Lupin gets down on his knees beside them, looking over them and their upside-down visage. ]

You sure know how to make me worry. I think I've sprouted a few gray hairs.

[ he teases, but his voice is weighed down with emotion - relief, palpable, and a concern that still lingers. Something obviously happened. Still, for the moment, he's found them again, and that's what matters; his expression is more heartfelt and vulnerable than they've probably seen on him before, that worry he mentioned clearly visible, and the comfort that seeing them again brings, as well. Things he'd normally hide, but he's too honestly relieved. It doesn't matter. Gently, he touches their face, almost experimentally, then brings his palm to their cheek, affectionate and reassuring. ]

What are you doing out here?

[ His hand is soft and familiar at their cheek, a tempting comfort in the moment; they thought they would be able to resist holding on, but they can't once they see the way he looks at them, slowly moving their hand to cover his. It's oddly warm, for once, given the way they've been sitting out here in the sun.. ]

I've been... [ They pause, searching for the right words. ] Healing. Getting back my color.

[ Maybe that much is enough to clue him in, but maybe it isn't. They hope that it is - there are other people milling about town going through this exact same process even now. Of course Lupin would know that much. When they start to sit up, not wanting him to lean over closer to the edge like they are, the light that filters through them is more muted than usual. It's difficult to pick up on, given their monochrome color palette, at least when they're sitting still - but they're definitely washed out somehow, even at the jagged dark line on their neck where their tie has been loosened and their head had been cut off. ]

I've only been here for a day or two.

[ It brings him comfort that they reach back for him - especially considering what they say next. Lupin's no fool; he can grasp what they mean immediately, and his blood runs cold, expression falling in realization.

They died? How? That shouldn't be possible, he thought. As long as their pieces could be gathered and reassembled, they'd always come back. But when he considers the method through which they were killed - or what he assumes the method must have been - he feels that dread coming back, bigger and all-encompassing this time as his worries are given a tangible shape. Cairngorm moves to sit up, and his hand moves to grasp at theirs, instead, tightly. ]

... You don't mean...?

[ it’s not the first time dextera has been called out for staring, and it surely won’t be the last. he’s just glad to see cairngorm up and walking around. with everything that’s happened, he isn’t sure if cairngorm died or if they merely took a long time to reassemble. he’s similarly not sure that he actually wants to know. death is coming quicker and more common to many people in this place, and it feels like an ill omen when their numbers have already dwindled so much.

so he shakes his head, slowly. ]

You look different. That’s all.

[ not bad, but dextera isn’t used to this form. ]

[ They don't grip his hand back, just letting him hold onto it without responding or pulling away. They know he means well, but - it's a little painful seeing his reaction, which is why they'd isolated themself out here. It's scary; the prospect that this might change something between them. More than being so different from him, they're "dead" now, too. They keep their eyes trained on his hand in their's. ]

I didn't think it was possible. [ All things considered, they should still be in the forest in pieces. But they're here, in one piece. ] It shouldn't have been.

[ All they can do is confirm his suspicions as gently as they can, fully aware that he'll take it personally. The way they see it, there was likely nothing that could have been done to avoid this that they hadn't tried already. But knowing that won't salve the heaviness they're both undoubtedly feeling. ]

[ This time, they're right. He does take it personally. After all, protecting them is supposed to be his job - for as much as they consider him weak and fragile and his life fleeting, he promised to take care of them, keep them happy. On the day he confessed, he made that resolution within himself, whether or not he ever said it aloud. It doesn't matter that they're stronger. It doesn't matter that the way they died was bizarre and unusual. For him, nothing should be impossible, least of all keeping the person he cares about more than anything safe.

This time, though, it was. All of his efforts amounted to nothing. No, worse - by the time he was able to put in effort at all, he was already too late. The sting of failure is foreign to Arsène Lupin, and that makes it all the more painful now. Like a thorn in his chest. The knowledge that his failure cost Cairngorm their life - a life they shouldn't be able to lose in the first place - only adds barbs to it, pricking him to the core. He stares at them in shock for a few seconds. Then, quietly, he clasps his other hand around theirs, holding it between both of his as he clutches it, like they might vanish again otherwise, and bows his head to hide his face. ]

... I'm sorry, Cairngorm.

That is because... I'm still recovering.

[ They explain, as lightly as they can considering the subject matter. With their index finger, they run a line across the jagged crack where there head had been severed, still visible despite the two pieces sitting glued back together. Of course, in one piece like this, they remember everything that happened up until going unconscious - what they don't know is if Dextera had witnessed them dying, if their head had ever made it to their house in Flavo before turning gray and crumbling. ]

The sunlight is good for me.

[ Like they expected, it only makes them upset to see him like this. To see how hurt he is by it. There's a sinking feeling that drifts through them, a knowledge that he won't recover from a blow like this for some time - not to mention that they won't, either. They hold the hand facing their palm gently, shaking their head. ]

You couldn't have predicted it.

[ They say, honest and objective like they always are. That much is true - neither of them could have seen something like this happening, not when they've survived for a thousand years. Cairngorm had always believed that they'd truly been immortal for the last year plus of living here, but the knowledge that they could've been killed at any point during all this time is a sobering one. There's not really anything they can think of that will make him alright in the moment; if things were reversed, they'd be upset beyond belief. So they don't try to smooth things over, or fill up the silence, letting the connection of their hands be enough.

They're glad that it was them and not him. He has a lot to go back to, a lot of life to live, even if it's short, if the consequence of dying is never leaving this place. It's almost ironic; all this time they've spent anguishing over outliving him. Maybe things were meant to be this way. ]

[ it’s good that they’re recovering. dextera remembers his own return from death, and how strange it made him feel—he’d died hundreds of times before that, but the way it had always played out was that he immediately moved on, as if death was no more than an inconvenience. this town had made him slow and stop to consider what it might be like to actually die, and the consequences did not make it easy. ]

…

[ he nods, like he’s taking in new information. ]

How long have you…?

But I should've stopped it from happening at all.

[ and that's all he'll say to them on the matter for now. This isn't about him, as terrible as he feels - it's about Cairngorm. His failure isn't the focal point. He grips their hand back, raising his head again to look at them, expression apologetic and gravely worried at once. ]

How are you feeling?

[ "are you all right" is a stupid thing to ask - obviously, they wouldn't be. ]

...A few days.

[ Two, three? They aren't sure. They sort of zoned out while they were out there in the hills; losing track of time was the only thing they could think of to try and cope with what they'd dealt with. Gems tend to process things much slower than humans do, and the case is the same here, as they've still barely come to terms with the topic they and Dextera are toeing around. ]

I don't know why, but I came back glued together like this. [ a beat. ] I'm assuming I wasn't rebuilt.

[ When he looks back up at them, their expression does relax slightly. It seems they're more worried about the way he's taking it than about the issue itself. ]

...I feel fine. [ They of course mean that in the most literal sense possible, as they're sure he's aware. It will take time for them to recover fully physically, but it won't be more than a few days, nothing of true note.

Letting this mystery glue set is another side reason why they've been out here not moving, but they shake their head, giving his hand a squeeze. ]

It's confusing, is all. Whether or not I'm "alive."

[ that deepens the crease between his brows, and one hand moves to rest on their shoulder, firm and grounding; he actually looks rather pained. Is this something they've worried about before? He had no idea. What he does know is that every fiber of his being rejects it. ]

What are you saying? You are alive. Just as alive as I am. Whether you're made or stone or flesh - that doesn't have a thing to do with it.

[ they have a heart that can love, and as far as he's concerned, that makes them alive, gives them a soul. If anything, that this happened only proves it. It's a proof Lupin didn't need - and that Cairngorm didn't, either. ]

I knew I was alive before.

[ They say, almost comically flat with an aversion of their eyes. ]

But now, "dying" and coming back, I'm not sure what that means— if I'm still alive the same way as you or not... That's what's confusing. [ Death is supposed to be permanent, isn't it? If that's not true here, then how is this any different from being broken apart and reassembled? They can't tell at all, especially not when dying the way did is probably one of the only ways gems truly can be killed. The uncertainty is just gnawing at them.

They sigh, looking out to the water below, and their free hand comes to rest in the bend of his elbow. ]

What do you think...?

Edited 2019-08-13 08:54 (UTC)

When I—

[ it’s amazing how dextera struggles talking about death when it’s someone else. it doesn’t feel right to say the word before cairngorm does, even if they’re both well aware of what exactly happened. he feels a little like he’s the one who killed cairngorm, even if the town’s curse was what ended things. ]

When I came back, [ he tries again, ] I didn’t have any marks or scars, either.

... You're here, aren't you?

[ it's a rhetorical question. Their hand on his arm is as solid and heavy as ever, and he can feel their fingers against his. Their voice has the same flat, cool timbre it always does. He understands what they're worried about, especially after learning about Dextera's pocketwatch and the transparent nature of the dead here. It would be foolish to pretend that death has no consequence here with so much evidence suggesting otherwise. His eyes stay on theirs, even if they don't meet his gaze. Yes, his heart is shaken by all this, too - terribly so - but he wants to be a guiding light for Cairngorm, like he always strives to be. If they can't summon up their own confidence, then they can rely on his. ]

I won't claim that I understand how death works, especially when it's as warped as this. What I do know is that I found you again. You're sitting with me and talking with me like always - your thread is going to keep winding on. That's enough proof for me.

[ That makes them sigh, hugging themself while they walk. They'd rather not recall too closely the events of Dextera's death. ]

Ugh. It's so creepy.

[ They complain - unable to describe how the knowledge that they're all put back together and healed like this makes them feel aside from that it freaks them out. It's unsettling, like most things about this place. ]

Not that I'd prefer it if there was a permanent mark... but I don't like to think about someone, or something with these kind of abilities. [ a beat. ] It's too much.

[ Bringing people back from the dead like it's nothing, especially when the forces killing them to begin with likely come from the same source sends a chill through their non-existent spine. ]

[ cairngorm’s reaction, even if it comes from a place of sincerity, seems almost amusingly understated. it is creepy, dextera agrees, but he’s not sure that that’s actually how he would phrase all of this. ]

…we might not ever learn what it is.

[ they all have their theories, of course. #FFFFFF is likely the one behind everything, but there’s no guarantee any of them will last to when the man behind the curtain is finally revealed. it’s entirely possible that they’ll all disappear before any answers can be discovered. ]

It’s scary… being at something else’s complete mercy.

[ The juxtaposition of things being "like always" and the continuity of their long life gives them honest pause. Their brows furrow, clearly distant and thinking hard while they stare into the still, colorless waters. ]

I'm just worried.

[ They murmur, softly and sadly. Even with him by their side, they can't bring themself to look at him, grateful as they are for his presence. They're sure he really believes what he's saying; that he isn't just saying it in an attempt to placate them. But, the uncertainty lingers, of course - they always have trouble relying on the benefit of the doubt. ]

If this will have an effect on me later... like keeping me from leaving. That sort of thing happens in fairy tales a lot.

[ They grimace. It's too unsettling for them to fathom, really. ]

Whatever is in control of it all, it just knows too much about us. [ That much is obvious from all the horrors they've all seen that are tailored to them as people - but it goes further here. ] It brings us back, but I can't tell why, or if we're even really alive.

[ a beat. ]

Death is supposed to be permanent.

It’s supposed to be.

[ dextera agrees, but there’s something uncomfortable about the way he says it. he rubs a spot on the back of his neck—but there’s no number there, and there hasn’t been for a long time. ]

That man I told you about before… my leader. He kept bringing me back even when I had died. A new body, the same task. It’s hard to feel like “you” when you know you’ve died once before.

[ his answer is predictable and comes without much thought - it's shining in his eyes like a little fire before he even opens his mouth. ]

Then we'll find a way to get you out.

[ he speaks in a tone that brooks no argument, as he often does. This time, though, it's punctuated with a slight falter in his expression, a guilty dimming of that light as his lips pull taut. Cairngorm has a hard time believing in him as it is; his utter failure to prevent this from happening in the first place certainly won't make him seem any more reliable now, trying to pick up the metaphorical pieces. He hates it. Failure isn't supposed to be an option for him at all.

But he's stubborn - and even if he's beating himself up, he won't be broken by this. Especially not when it comes to them, and even more when it comes to their escaping this place. The very idea of leaving them trapped here is unfathomable. He shakes his head. ]

I'm not leaving without you. If there's some problem later, we'll deal with it together. We're partners, too. [ a beat. ] ... I'll be there. This won't happen again.

[ That puts things into words pretty well, and they nod along. ]

Yeah. It's confusing. This body must be mine, but I don't know. I heard the trees some of us turned into are still out there - so, I don't know what to think of myself.

[ If the trees are still really out there, doesn't this have to be a new body, then? But their memories are in tact, which means all the same crystal that had been there since the start are still a part of this body. Thinking about it for more than a few moments makes it hard to feel like they're even really there. ]

When it happened to you, here, [ is about the gentlest way they can think to phrase it. ] Did you notice anything different?

[ Here's where it should warm their non-existent heart that he wants to stay and figure things out if this does end up holding them back - and it does - but, it just makes them feel equally depressed. Cairngorm being the reason holding Lupin here, as opposed to just the town making him unable to leave? It's a guilt they wouldn't be able to bear, no matter how good the sentiment. They shake their head. ]

Of course you'd say that.

[ They keep their tone level, no haughty note of challenge to it. Just a tired exhale, and a closing of their eyes. This is time old tradition between them at this point; Lupin's determined optimism versus Cairngorm's bitter realism. ]

Even when you'll have to leave without me, eventually. [ They're in a weird mood, disoriented and unstable, so the inevitable end just slips out sort of bluntly, their hand leaving his arm to tuck hair behind their ear. The wind is always stronger out by the sea. ] I don't want you stuck here for my sake, you know.

[ that's about the reaction he expected - it is their tradition. With how little they think of themself, he's sure they haven't considered how guilty he'd feel leaving them stuck here while he frolicked off back to London. The only thing he didn't expect was for them to actually say they'd part ways aloud. It's the subject at hand: they both know it, even if neither of them want to talk about it - Cairngorm because it's depressing, and Lupin because he's been considering otherwise. His eyes widen a fraction of an inch at the admission; then his expression cools again.

Would it be crass to bring it up now, while they're in this state already? Or would it be careless of him not to, and to leave them thinking there was no hope while they're here at one of their lowest points? Lupin's quiet for a moment. ]

Are you so certain I will?

[ he doesn't reach out to cup their cheek or caress them or whatever else; he just stares at them, quite seriously. A weaker man might doubt his ability to protect them for a lifetime after letting them get so hurt - Lupin simply uses those doubts to fuel his resolve. No - he can't let it happen again. ]

[ It's like they didn't hear him correctly, with the way they hesitantly blink open their pale eyes to meet his serious gaze, the way their brow twitches and their expression stills, a tense silence falling between the pair. They don't dare to move an inch, their hand perfectly still in his and their eyes unblinking. ]

....What are you saying?

[ Their tone is pushy and demanding, even in it's shaky quietness. Just what is he implying? What goes unsaid in his question seems obvious enough, but they need to hear him say it, they need to know in clear terms that all those one day, I won't see you anymore's aren't what he's envisioning now. They seem afraid to even confirm it, like they're both treading on thin ice that they've been tip toeing around since the start. ]

[ again, their situations are so similar, yet different in the critical ways that make it hard for dextera to truly give advice or empathy. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to try, though, and cairngorm reaching out in questions makes it a little easier. ]

Here… no.

[ he pauses. ]

It wasn’t the way I was used to dying. I came back as myself… it was definitely my own body. The “me” that was killed, and the “me” that returned—physically, we’re the same. It’s not the town’s fault if we’re mentally different.

Come back to London with me.

[ it's asking a lot - the enormity of the request is exactly why he hasn't said anything until now - but he doesn't falter: his mind's made up. Lupin's been hesitant to try and sway their path from the start. Cairngorm has enough trouble making their own choices and deciding what's right for them; intervening would just make him part of the problem. However, on this matter - the matter of their happiness - he thinks he can be allowed to push. And it's not just theirs, either - it's his. Could he really go back to life without them, knowing they were suffering in their world (or worse, trapped here by this, like they're suggesting?) He can't imagine being able to carry on as before with the memories of them still fresh in his heart.

Maybe he's being selfish. But so what? Let him be selfish. In the end, after all, he is a jewel thief; how could Arsène Lupin let his finest prize slip through his fingers? ]

I know you've got your duties back home - but I'm almost as sure you'll be miserable and in danger. [ a beat. ] ... I don't want to send you back there. I want to keep you.

[ another pause; he quirks a half-smile, faintly, a little apologetic. ]

It's fine if you haven't got a response yet. But I do want you to think about it.

[ Well, it was either this, or he'd suggest following them to their home, and makes a lot more sense for this to be the option he favors. Still, their eyes widen, unable to tear their eyes away or do anything but etch these words into their memory.

Isn't this what they've always wanted? For someone to favor them and think of them first? It's always been foreign to be stared at or singled out, but the most foreign sensation of all is feeling genuine and steadfast care, a love so strong that it transcends worlds. It shakes them to their core, enough so that their head bows just slightly, fingers threading through his before they can think about it. ]

Lupin, [ They start, struggling for words. It can't be wrong for them to feel so relieved and so whole from hearing this, can it? But there's a bitter aftertaste, deep seated and nagging that keeps them from cherishing this in full. Always their obligations. They hate that thoughts of who will take care of winter, and who will protect Phos are all interrupting and casting a selfish light on what should be one of the happier moments of their life.

It's so frustrating.

They hate this, that they can't choose what they want and simply agree. But they can't. And they don't want to flat out reject, either— that's not what they want at all. ] I want to be free from it.

[ If they were free from everything that's been asked of them, they'd go, is the implication. The truth is, they'd trade everything for him if they could. Home, the forged partnership they had with Phos— it all pales in comparison. It's a testament to how much they've changed here that they can even recognize that they want to get away from it, that they want more from their life than to always be a shadow of someone else. ]

But... [ It is killing them inside to say this. It isn't fair. ] I— I don't know if I can.

[ He recognizes that change, too - the fact that they can say decisively that they want to go with him when they could barely tell him they wanted to be with him before gives him a moment of happiness in the midst of these unfortunate circumstances. Even if he'd screwed up and hadn't been able to save them this time, he knows, at least, that he'd helped give them the strength to express themself a little more - to accept themself more. One failure isn't enough to cancel that. Lupin's eyes soften as their slender fingers slip through his.

Truth be told, he doesn't know if he can. He doesn't know how this place works more than anyone else does - when they find a way home, who's to say they'll have enough control over whatever it is to allow Cairngorm to come with him? There's no proof. Nothing other than his own will. But that's enough for him. They've visited each other's homes before, if only in dreams and other facsimiles; it can't be impossible. He'll find a way. Hearing them agree, or want to agree, only strengthens that feeling. That means they love him so much that they'd be willing to forsake everything for him, after all - meager as that "everything" may be - and only the somber circumstances of this discussion keep him from rushing forward to meet that love with his own. They want a life with him...

(He's sure he'll spend a lot of time thinking about that later. For now, he needs to take care of them.) ]

... Because of what Ghost told you.

[ an educated guess, based on their last conversation. His tone is soft; his free hand, unable to resist any longer, gently cups their chin, urging them to look up and meet his eyes. ]

There's no shame in putting your own happiness first. Especially when it's so hard-won. [ but his words won't be able to convince them of this; he knows it already. Not for the first time, he wishes he knew what would. Tentatively, he offers a smile - very small, gently reassuring. ] I don't mind waiting for you to find out. Consider it a standing offer.

[ They give a small hmm at his response, as if to agree with the suggestion that their own body that had been "killed", and the one before him have to be the same. ]

Something like that... it's hard for me to understand. [ When it comes to mortality, much less the mechanics of it here? They're not ashamed to admit it. ] But it does bother me. I'm sure you've been thinking of this and what it means for much longer than I have. I just... the more I think about it. I don't want to be "dead," whatever that means for a gem like me.

[ a beat. While they speak, they seem almost befuddled by their own words, the knit in their brow ever present and ever deepening. ]

I want to keep living.

[ They let him coax them, meeting his gentle gaze with their own somber one. He's right, in that his words do nothing to convince them to prize their own desires above their duty, but the words themselves have a special weight to them anyway - they aren't totally lost on Cairngorm. It matters that they have someone in their life that would even think to ask them something like this, let alone let the offer stand after their lackluster response. ]

...I'm sorry. [ Their voice doesn't go above a mutter. They really, really don't deserve this. He's always offering things to them and going so far out of the way - and they can't even follow him in return. That's shameful in itself. They wish they could be the kind of person someone like Lupin deserves to have by his side - someone able to pay him back, someone eager and free to stay with him - but for now, all they can do is apologize that they aren't, and bring their shoulders in guiltily, as if trying to make themself smaller. ]

You shouldn't have to wait. I didn't know you wanted me to go with you, though...

[ After all, this isn't something Lupin ever suggested or hinted at to them; between them, it was far more common for them to speak realistically about the end whenever the topic came up. Naturally, they'd never go so far as to believe on their own that he'd want them enough to ask this. They assumed the avoidance of the topic, even amidst the knowledge that other pairs have decided to go together, had meant the opposite. The suddenness of his want to keep them makes this all the harder to process, especially with their head already swimming. ]

Edited 2019-08-28 10:06 (UTC)

…

[ dextera stops, physically as well as in his mannerisms. they want to keep living. there was a long time that dextera didn’t mind dying, when he thought both he and the world would be better off if he could just die and stay dead.

these days, he’s changed. he wants to think it’s for the better. ]

I understand that.

[ this is what he says, after a pause. ]

You have things to live for, right? People.

[ They give a slow nod. ]

...Yes.

[ It's complicated; they suppose they've always had their duty that they should live for. But coming here was a blessing in disguise, as far as they see it. Other people have learned about them, grown to care about them in ways that gems at home just never could. Returning to home would put an end to that, but so would dying in full. ]

I didn't have that, before, really. [ Dextera stops, and they do too, giving him a serious, but heartfelt look. ] "People," and things, that is. It doesn't feel so hard anymore, so I don't want it to end.

There's nothing to be sorry for.

[ they haven't turned him down, after all; closer to the opposite. Lupin can't quite determine what they're apologizing about until they go ahead and put it into words, and then he can only smile and shake his head. Cairngorm only ever seems to consider him extraordinary and out of reach when it comes to situations like this, comparing him to themself, and he wishes they wouldn't - he sees them as an equal, for all the differences between them. But their lack of self-esteem is nothing new or surprising. He brushes his thumb over their cheek, affectionate and reassuring, before setting his hands on their shoulders even as they shrink away, refusing to let Cairngorm run off into their head too far. ]

... I do. I've been turning it over in my head for a while now.

[ on this, though, perhaps he's been sloppy - he can't place the blame entirely on Cairngorm's low self-worth when he hasn't included them in his decision-making. ]

It's a selfish request to make, I know - especially after all I've said to you about making your own decisions. [ he didn't want to put pressure on Cairngorm, who is so easily swayed by the will of others; he's sure they'd listen to anything he asked, which is precisely why he always goes so far out of his way to put the power of choice in their hands. This flies in the face of that. But... ] ... But I've decided I'd rather be selfish than go on without you.

[ dextera can understand that, too. even if cairngorm doesn’t say it explicitly, he understands what they mean. even if they had a place to live, and people around them, and duties to perform, it’s not like the way things have developed here. ]

That’s a hard feeling to find. It was for me.

[ that desire to keep living, whether it’s for oneself or someone else—dextera still struggles with it, but he’s learned so much. ]

…but I know now that life is precious. Even my life. It makes me appreciate every passing day, but I think I’m more terrified of dying than I ever was before.

[ Maybe the implication is selfish - to ask them to come with him and leave everything else behind. But they don't see it that way, not when they know they'll receive similar offers at home with much more self-centered intent. "Come back to London with me" feels much softer and more inviting than "come to the moon with me."

Since he's let go of their hand, they reach out to latch on to the fabric of his coat at the waist, wanting to hold onto him somehow, too. They've always been worried deep down about being selfish, the last words their sibling uttered to them making them hyper-aware of the notion - so for Lupin to choose to be selfish to avoid leaving them truly does mean something special to them. ]

I don't know what to say. [ They admit, after a prolonged pause. They can't bring themself to reject him, and yet, they can't make themself accept, either, so they're at a loss, on top of their cloudy thoughts about their death. ] You're asking me all of a sudden after thinking about it for a long time.

[ It's a complaint with no bite, more like an explanation for their less than exact response. They meet his eyes, their gaze soft, and they tug on the fabric, wanting to bring him closer to embrace. ]

It's not like I want to go without you. [ They snake their arms around his waist, obscuring their face from his view. ] I don't know what I'd do.

I know -- I know, it's sudden. [ and it certainly hadn't been his plan to do this, not at all, but his heart is swayed so easily by their sadness and their loneliness; he wants to rush in, he wants to save them. Because he's Lupin, and it's what he does - but doubly so because they're Cairngorm, and he hangs on so tightly to their every vulnerability. There's a note of apology in his voice, for the suddenness of it all. Not for what he said - or what he wants. ] Hearing you say I'd leave you, though - that, I couldn't bear.

[ they hardly need to prompt him to hold them; normally, he'd be delighted that they initiated any affection, but this time, it only speaks to how fragile they are in this moment. Their head is heavy against him, their arms cold. His own wrap around the thin frame of their shoulders, pulling them in as close as he can, as close as they'll allow, heedless of their weight, as usual. In this moment, he doesn't care. He just doesn't want them to be alone. And -- he doesn't want to be without them, again, either. Not now. Not ever.

Because that's what he's asking, too, even if it's only implicit. If they come to his world, he knows for a fact there's no technology that will send them back. He sets his jaw and closes his eyes. Common sense dictates that he should be more anxious about offering such a permanent thing, but he doesn't feel any fear - only certainty and determination, and love, too, always love, for their delicate emotions and proud, defenseless heart. ]

We're just the same. [ he rests his cheek against their hair, as he often does. ] I've been going mad these past few weeks, thinking you were gone.

...I understand.

[ Which is honestly mind-boggling; if they told themself from more than a year ago that they'd finally understand the fleeting importance of life, the full weight of mortality, they wouldn't believe it in the slightest. But they feel empathetic towards him rather than the distant sympathy and pity they felt for most humans when they'd arrived here. ]

I spent a long time wanting some sort of an end. [ They admit, somber but light in despite of the heaviness of the topic. ] But I think... wanting a future out of this, that can't make this place entirely bad.

[ the both of them wanting to see something past this colorless town - isn't that good in itself? They don't mind. This place has been hard on them, of course, like it has on everyone, but it's not all losses. ]

You were?

[ They ask, quietly and vulnerable in the way he's only seen a handful of times. Like the brief moment after he'd seen into their heart, like when Ghost Quartz had suddenly appeared in the well. They won't let him pull back and see their sorrowful expression, they decide, resting their chin heavily on his shoulder. They just feel so unbearably sad and torn hearing this from him. Not because what he's saying saddens them, per se, but because they're fully certain that no one would miss them like this were they back where they came from. If they disappeared or smashed themself in the ice floes, it'd be mostly insignificant. And that's the world they feel they have to go back to— one where they're not really anything, much less anyone.

They've yearned to mean something to someone for so long that this particular admission breaks their metaphorical heart, grateful and aching all at the same time. It should be obvious that he'd react that way— it wouldn't be the first time he's gotten upset over them disappearing suddenly. But even knowing the significance of this bond between the two of them, self-doubt always weighs heavily down on them, making any explicit confirmation of their worth all the more dear to their admittedly fragile heart. ]

[ the question is outrageous to his ears - he doesn't need to hesitate for an instant before answering, in truth, but he refrains from blurting out an "of course" at once out of consideration for their feelings. Maybe it's obvious to him. It's not so to them, and he knows that well. ]

I was.

[ And they were gone, too; the knowledge sticks painfully inside him, like a thorn in his heart, and he holds them a little tighter. He can't fail again. If anything really happened to them, permanently, it would tear a hole in him. That their life was snuffed out even temporarily is bad enough. Lupin wishes he knew a way he could convey that to them without making them feel worse - feel guilty for what happened to them, because he knows they already are. His eyes cast downwards at the ground and the cliff beyond them. ]

I could barely sleep, not knowing what had happened to you. I walked every centimeter of this town trying to find you. I've hardly done anything else the weeks you've been away. [ maybe they don't realize how much time he spends thinking about them... after a moment or two, he admits: ] ... I was scared that I'd lost you.

[ rare for him to say he's scared of anything, but he was. ]

[ He's right; they do feel guilty. Even though logically, they already know they tried basically everything to keep living, going as far as resorting to the tactic of dismembering themself. They're silent after his admission, adjusting their face on his shoulder so that they can take in a deep breath against him, the familiar scent of his clothes. ]

...I'm sorry.

[ They can't help but apologize again. They're sorry he's gone so far for them, and they're sorry for worrying him, too, but they don't specify between them. The two of them have been here before. Cairngorm used to say you shouldn't have done that or you didn't have to, but this time, they can't bring themself to say it, just clinging onto the notion he'd done so at all like a lifeline. When he holds them tighter, they want to return the gesture as much as he is, but they settle for tightening just the slightest amount - gently, always gently. ]

You're always... [ It's a start, but they don't finish. Then, they sigh, leaning on him as much as they think he can handle. ] ...We really are the same.

[ It's as bittersweet as it is comforting, this dedication they have to each other and how far they're both willing to go. They can only imagine they'd be doing the exact same thing if their roles had been reversed, and they admit this to him openly, even in the face of trying to accept, again, that he's for real, that he won't waver, that this is all for them. ]

Aren't we?

[ their body is as heavy as ever, but he leans back against them with everything he's got, trying his best to support them. Like he could blame them for this - the same thing happened to him, too. He just had luck on his side. As usual. Lupin wishes it had lasted him a bit longer. But, he supposes, they came back, and the stone weight against his shoulders is proof enough of that. He'll hold them as long as they need. (He thinks he needs it a little, too.) ]

My intention wasn't to make you feel sorry; it was to let you know that. [ if it wasn't patently obvious by the fact that Lupin wants to bring them back home with him, well - actually, he knows Cairngorm has a hard time believing it at all, that he cares for them as much as he does, no matter how much he tells them. Keep saying it, though, and one day, maybe they'll start caring, too. That's his hope. ] When it comes to you and your happiness, I'll do whatever it takes. That's a promise.

[ if this makes things complicated later, this death - he'll find a way to overcome that. True, he's not perfect. He failed here - but that only means he has to try even harder. ]

[ They do need it, some sort of connection with him to know that they're there, and he's there. They imagine he'd like it too, having not seen or heard from them in weeks - it's why they let him feel more of their weight than they normally ever would. They're again reminded of how this sort of contact had to be explained to them before - how they'd thought they were above it, and how they couldn't understand why others found such comfort in it. But they know now.

For a while, they don't say anything, just pulling him in tighter after he says what he does, knowing it's enough for them to just hear what he says, to try again to believe in it. More than that, there's something sacred about the moment, this reunion and these confessions and these questions about the future. They should feel uneasy about this sort of unpredictable future, and the harrowing question of whether they can abandon their assigned fate. But next to him, they feel at ease, always comforted by his promises and steadfast words. Lupin makes them want to believe in something better for themself, and that's the best thing he's ever been able to give them in their time here.

It's not as if they can heal all at once, from their lack of self worth and from the helplessness they feel towards their duty, but doing so a little at a time isn't all for naught. After a long silence, they draw back, raising their cold hand to his cheek, cupping the line of his jaw. Their pale eyes still read distantly sad - they almost always do - but the concern overshadows it, the familiar crease in their brow setting in. ]

...You must be so tired.

[ Staying up the way he had over this... they know he doesn't sleep the way other humans do (and should), but they can't help but feel worried, especially when they're the reason he pushed himself like this. ]

[ they look a little more like themself when they lean back, and he relaxes slightly, himself, at the sight. Just seeing them again is still a relief. Even once they've left his shoulder, his hands stay on them, a gentle touch at their arms. Now that he's seeing them close up, he recognizes the slight pallor of their dark skin. It's barely noticeable, considering how close to black they usually are, but that hint of purple-brown they have is gone. No doubt about it. Some resentment towards the town smolders in his belly, but the knowledge that there's no direct action he can take keeps them from igniting. Still - it's not right. Putting aside his own failure and guilt, he can hardly forgive someone - or something - for putting them through this...

The cold feeling of their hand against his face refocuses his attentions. He's not surprised, per se, but he still blinks once or twice, the barest suggestion of pink coming into his cheeks. It still feels like a rare treat when they touch him like this - like a lover. But then he's smiling again, wry and proud as ever, though it's perhaps a bit affected. ]

Nonsense. I could have kept on for another month. [ a pause. ] Besides, that should be my line. Let's get you home.

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[open] feeling numb most of the time

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