carnagecarnival | We The Lost Mailbox

[Even as she tries to shut him out, he seeks to comfort her. He wipes her tears and piles on her all the reasons she would ever need to leave him with a clear conscience. He places the blame at his own feet, piles the guilt onto his own shoulders so that hers might feel lighter.]

Stop it. [Her voice comes quietly, a small protest but a protest none the less.] Stop...trying to act like it's not my fault, too. Like I wasn't the one fooling myself. You're not responsible for the things I told myself.

[He's always been like that. Or well... maybe not always. She has to actually think on it now. She's not sure where it started, but she knows this habit of blaming himself. Of assuming that he's the worst that there could possibly be. Is there any wonder that she felt it necessary to deny that assumption so strongly?]

You're not... You can't tell me that there's no easy answer and then try to blame yourself for everything. What are you even trying to do? Do you want me to hate you? I just... don't understand. You're not... You're not bad, Kurloz. You're not. Nothing that you say is going to convince me of that.

[They've been through too much for too long. He's been too kind to her, even now, for her to think that.]

But neither are you.

[The protest comes immediate. It would be more accurate to say she's better than he is.]

You take it all on your ownself, you know. Don't think I ain't up and noticed. Ain't your moirail and it took me all fucking long for this but I do get about some things. At least I got a list of sins significant what make like I should take responsible.

But it ain't about that either, Terezi, I don't want you to leave. Fuck, I ain't ever want you to leave, I pity you. It's just that I pity you more than all that noise. If this ain't being something what all you can handle then I want like for you to be happy all the same. If I make it easy for you what to be doing what makes you happiest then what's so wrong of it?

[But there's some small spark of hope in it now. He allows himself closer. He allows himself not to doubt as fully.]

What I'm trying to do is make it so that whether you can choose me or not, you'll be able to get on out in this world of ours you can understand what's happening. I want you to see it ain't one thing or the other and I want you to be able to get talking at to people and not be bound by these things what got built up. I want... [He looks down, away from her.] you to be knowing who all it is I am... and if you pity me it's because you pity me, not just who you're maybe thinking me to be.

[He sighs.] You say I ain't bad and I can't get to tell if you understand my preach or not. Maybe I ain't bad now, but I was. Some motherfuckers ain't good. But they could be, maybe, if all got really lucky and tried real fucking hard... the way you and I did. Nothing is inherent. Not like that anyway. Does any of this got any motherfucking means for reaching you?

[His protest takes her aback for a moment. Long enough to hear out his explanation, as he continues. She didn't think she was bad. Did she? No... Probably not. Though she can't deny the thoughts whispered in the back of her mind. Those little prickles of fear that still tell her over and over that something is wrong with her.

He doesn't want her to leave, but he wants her to be happy. She almost laughs. Almost, but doesn't. How does he expect her to be happy without him? She needs him. As much as she needs Meulin or anyone else that she cares about. And in a way, even more important than that... He needs her. If what he says is true, if he's this way because of her, what would her leaving do to him? Would he still be the gentle Kurloz that she knows? Would he change yet again?

He bows his head, looking away from her. I want you to be knowing who all it is I am. Is that what he thinks is going on here? That she pities...some image that she's made up of him?]

Kurloz... I get what you're trying to say, but you don't realize... It's not... The troll I pity isn't someone that I only think exists. The troll I pity saved my life. The troll I pity comforted me when I felt broken down. The troll I pity wrote me poetry and held me close when we danced. The troll I pity...changed everything for me. Himself, and Panem. Maybe that other stuff is harder to swallow, but... That reason is still there.

[Even if she has to take everything that he says as truth... That Kurloz still exists. He can't say that he doesn't. There's just... other parts to him that came before. Parts that she tried not to think about, but parts that he wants her to...for whatever reason.

It's not easy. She's unsettled, and she's struggling with it. But at the very least, she feels little more sure about him. No one as considerate as he's being could possibly be bad. No one who has been as kind and gentle with her as he has deserves to be punished or abandoned.]

[He half expects she'll keep fighting against this. And in a way, she does. But he finds himself looking up instead of frowning down.

He can remember instances of each. Even times he's only tried. He remembers dancing with her, growing closer with each time up between. He can remember how it got easier and easier to think well of her, even as he struggled to know what to say to ease her broken heart. He can recall how gradual but inevitable she transformed into a miracle before his very eyes until the poetry simply came on out. And of course, of course, he remembers fighting for her and futures.

But most importantly, it feels like she finally understands. She understands and she still wants him.]

You still wish to stay?

[The hope fills his voice and swells his heart. It lights his face and a smile slowly starts growing on back. It bubbles out of him with a laugh of relief. He leans in to kiss her, right upon her cheek. His hands find hers.]

You don't have to fear, by the by. Can feel you worrying on my changing. I've been... getting better up by that. Wouldn't be like to say nothing could break me, any troll can be motherfucking broken, but I can't think of anything what could natural making happenstance. And nothing abnormal can be making about me either anymore. I got a long life and short temper but... I think I might be okay, maybe.

[Especially if he's got her too. That'll make it all the easier.]

And the rest of this all, [He says, stroking her hair back.] what's getting to stir in your pan. It'll settle. Trust me, that. You'll find out new ways to fathoming the world. Better ones.

[He hesitates. He looks Terezi over and tries to sense her out too.] I haven't talked to Gamzee. Not yet. I couldn't, not until I was being sure with you. And even then I wanted savoring what time I had with you. Was thinking as I'd start with a letter all anyways now. Just to be seeing if he even wants an ancestor, let alone this motherfucker. But I can get about it sooner than later, should you wish. If you'd like being near and all.

[He lights up at her response, and her heart eases a little. Even if everything else feels uncertain, he's the one thing that she knows can't be wrong. That's what her heart is telling her, anyway. He kisses her cheek and takes her hands. She squeezes them back.

It's difficult to worry about other things when he's so happy. Difficult... but not impossible, given the shift in topic that he eventually brings.

He asks if she'd like to be nearby when he talks to Gamzee... and just the thought has her stiffen a bit. There's that old flair of fear--but it's more unsure. More out of habit than anything logical. Her thoughts on Gamzee aren't just going to roll over so easily, even if she's trying to understand his logic behind it all. She tries to keep her response as rational as she knows how to be.]

I don't... want him around me. I don't want to talk to him. But if you're going to write to him... I'd like to read it.

[It's not a positive reaction, but he also knew it wasn't going to be. What it is being is the best reaction he's got from her so far. It ain't got lash back. He can feel it habit more than all anything else, more than him taking on off and getting hurt or whatever all things come to pan.

He smiles again and puts another kiss upon her head.]

No intention of that. Only got meaning during this time when you're in the meadous. You ain't got to have nothing to do with him.

But uh... [He looks a little hesitant.] Truth is I may have got to writing it recent. Not sent or none but. It's mere been done for. And I... I ain't sure it will make you no sort happy. Got real carried away you see. I wasn't looking to be making accusation or changing him yet until I was certain, I just... I just wanted him to hear me. He's got on so avoidant, so fearful to be losing you... I guess I didn't want to scare him off more but I said so much, too much, and that might scare him still and I-

[He stops, rising up. He leaves her just a moment to find where he stashed that thing. He walks back with it slow, scanning it over and feeling dread. Still, he holds it out to her, bracing. ] I want to be a good ancestor. I just don't know what the fuck that really up and means.

[She's relieved that he doesn't want her to meet him yet. She's not sure that she could bear it right now. Everything is still uncertain, and she's not sure how to feel. She's not sure what she's supposed to think.

That feeling only increases as he admits that he already wrote the letter that she's asking to read. He might notice the way her lips press together a little tighter, but she tries not to think ill of him for it. She can't blame him. He's been so hopeful of this, despite her trepidation; and at least he told her the truth of it. It's not as if he was trying to hide.

He babbles like he thinks that she's going to be angry, already making excuses for why she might not like what she reads.] Kurloz, please... Just let me read it. [She holds out her hand, trying to be gentle with her words. She takes the letter when he offers it, bracing herself as she starts to read.

He's right, of course. She doesn't like any of it. There's too much here to twist, too much left open for someone to use. It's not the kind of letter you would write to someone you were wary of. It's half apology, half plea for reconciliation. There are a lot of bitter thoughts that come to mind, especially with the talk of how proud he is getting thrown around. She swallows them down with all the others.

Once finished, she folds the letter up again. The urge to rip it up right there is strong, but she hands it back. Her grip on the paper is tight, turning her knuckles a lighter grey. Her jaw is tight, too, and it takes her a moment to loosen it enough to speak.]

Laying it on a little thick. I guess you didn't think to consider some restraint? Maybe invite him to at least talk once or twice before making proclamations of "protecting him until your dying breath"? [Her tone veers dry, and she wrinkles her nose a little in annoyance. She's not trying to be an ass, but it's difficult to rein in her feelings.]

Best case scenario, you're going to overwhelm him. [Worst case, he's basically handing Gamzee everything he needs on a silver platter.]

[His face is twisted right up with trepidation, shame, and embarrassment. Even before she says a thing, he's already shrinking down. Once she does, he somehow manages to shrink further. He takes it back like it's going to sting just to touch.]

You're right. It's stupid. This is stupid.

[He crumples it immediately, shrinking it down and turning it to trash, even when he doesn't have the heart to tear up what was a spilling of said heart. He paces a little, crumpled paper still in hand.]

I just wrote what up and came to me. He ain't need this. He doesn't fucking need me. I ain't a decent troll, barely a decent person. I can't be an ancestor to nobody. I should be... I should just... Maybe an invitation to congregation? No, no, then he'll presume it like it was or like I did of my ancestor. But if I don't get talk of what's being the haps, he'll take the fuck off.

[He keeps going, rambling to himself now, a hand through his hair occasionally.]

I just wanted to be what I would've... wanted to hear... back then... Which is all the motherfucking more pathetic. Maybe if I had something else what to offer, but I don't! Ancestors are supposed to have great legacies what to pass along and I've nothing. [He walks to a wall, slumps against it, and groans loudly into his hands.] He's probably not even going to motherfuckin like me let alone want to talk and here I am telling you like it ain't burden open you to have to pretend to give a damn!

[He straightens out and tosses the note aside.]

... I'm sorry. It's just, I ain't actually knowing what all I'm doing yet. I'll figure out what to be doing. I can let you know then.

Kurloz... [She tries to jostle him out of his ranting when he's only partway through, but her voice is low, and he probably doesn't hear her. She's too tired to try again, instead letting his rambling run its course. When he finishes, she meets his apology with a dry exression, art annoyance and part exasperation.]

Kurloz... You're already a far better ancestor than he deserves. [He probably isn't going to like hearing that, but at least she's not saying it to be cruel to Gamzee. It's just the truth as she feels it. She tries to focus on him, more than anything else.] You're barely more than a wriggler yourself, and you've done so many things. Everything you did in Panem? That's not Nothing. Everything you've done here? That's not Nothing, either. Any troll should be glad to have someone like you to look up to. You shouldn't have to do shit to earn their favor.

[He frowns at her for such a comment but says nothing, both because he expects that sort of thing from her and because it's clear she's got more to say and he's really rambled on enough. He's also got to frown at being "barely more than a wriggler" but that's old habit by now. On that at least, she's right.

As for the rest, he's unsure. He's mostly felt like he's fumbled up everything, except for where at she called him her hero.]

Maybe. But it ain't just that. [He starts toward her, moving back into that pile, if not so close as he was.] I remember the way you'd speak of the Neophyte, even when you felt hurt. Aletheia too. Only a fool could be missing what she means to you both. And then all them other motherfuckers we've met knowing of ancestors, idolizing... But opposing is my own memory, my own ancestor. I kept my distance cause even then I got presumption like there ain't wouldn't be time for me and then it was me what got running out of time. And when the kid showed the fuck up in Panem I got being distant again.

[He sighs.] No one in the world is going at to get these things what is being between us, me and him. There ain't know other what's got experience so alike. Same form, same pan, more or motherfucking less. And you and me and him, we ain't got lusii so... this is all we got. Doesn't it ever make like... [He turns over to her, just a little.] like you ought to connect? Don't you ever want to pry out story and all the fuck else from 'em just to be knowing it ain't you alone? They're your literal goddamn blood, doesn't that just wipe the fuckin pan entire?

[He's doing it again. Babbling. And worse babbling to his matesprit. He frowns.] ...We ain't got to talk about this. We've been so caught up in strife I ain't even gotten to asking you nothing. I think right now it might just be me what's being overwhelmed. You talk, aight? I'll get my listen on quiet.

Edited 2017-03-24 05:12 (UTC)

[He keeps going, and by this point, she figures there's no stopping him. He rejoins her in the pile, and though it's not as close as she might like him to be, it's good enough. He offers to let her talk for a while, and she wonders if he really means that. He's obviously rattled in a way that she doesn't think is going to ease.

He promises her his quiet, but she leans a little closer, kissing him just to make sure that she really has it. It's a brief kiss, short and sweet and sorely needed, she thinks.]

...What do you want me to talk about? I'm not sure that I have anything to say... Except that I think you're being too hard on yourself. Our ancestors never did anything to earn our favor directly. We learned about them through textbooks or journals or another people. It was an idea already built up in our minds. I don't...actually know that much about mine, outside of that. I barely got to talk to her. [Not for lack of trying, of course. The memory still hurts, though, so she moves on. She tries to make it sound a little more teasing, but the humor probably falls a little flat as she asks:]

Do you want me to write some stories about you? Leave them lying in undisclosed locations for...whatever trolls you might want to impress in the future? [She's not going to name Gamzee specifically, but she'll leave it open for Kurloz to assume.]

[Very, very much needed was that kiss to be. He smiles under it, eyes closing in the moment so as better to savor. It's brief, but he ain't mind. He moves to fill some of that space, small and gradual.

He definitely is making sure not to say that that's being the kind of ancestor her doesn't want to be. He's had his real and self-imposed isolations. He's seen her sadness. He doesn't want to cause something like that. But again, that requires Gamzee caring first.

He thinks to explain the Neophyte again, to elaborate that it's not to do with Terezi that things was being as they is. But he doesn't really get the Neophyte too well either and it's far easier to reach for her hand, squeeze, and let the sorrowful thoughts settle.

His quiet first breaks with a laugh. It spills out and makes his smile brighten. It's a flat humor but it's good all for him anyways.]

That would most mother fuckin certainly be impressive and not any manner of desperation move, that. Talk so much of I all the time already. [He winds his fingers with hers, in so much as that's being possible.] And you'd have all the best sort. Save a few Beforan. I'd read your writ. You should tell about my matesprit. She's a miracle, don't you know. She can do anything. That's where the real wonder's being to lay.

[He kisses the back of her hand, hopping briefly back into solemnity as he says:] Perhaps I should tell you of the other shade of your ancestor some time, back in her younger days Beforan. If you'd like that. I don't know what she'd say to being spoken of... [But he doesn't think she'll ever be here to say no. His friends as he knew them were very, very dead.] Or you could make writ to the Neophyte yourself. She's in that place, Midnight. Just warn she can be... terse. And unfriendly-like, as us ancestors is seeming to be. But maybe you'd be getting through.

Edited 2017-03-24 06:54 (UTC)

[His talk of making stories about her gets him a dry look. He flatters her so much--too much, in her opinion. But she won't be swayed to deviate from her topic.

At least, not until he mentions her ancestor being in one of the other realms. She looks startled. Half a moment of stunned silence, and then a graceless "What" blurting past her lips. Her heart taps out a beat just a little quicker than normal. She should really keep her focus on Kurloz, but she can't help but ask now that he's brought up the possibility.]

She's in one of the other worlds? Is she... Does she remember? What happened in Panem? [She tries not to appear too hopeful, but her voice betrays her desperation.]

[He had intended to deviate topic from his ownself, particularly when his ownself's quarry now rest with Gamzee, a topic he can henceforth avoid at all costs now that it no longer has any relevance to her. Not to mention, he misses his matesprit and likes knowing her going on's.

But now she's really excited and this... this is exactly the sort of thing he means, that rush and longing to meet. And worst of all now is that he has to disappoint her. He shakes his head.]

Sorry, sister. She ain't of Panem. She's an iteration alternate like whereas all motherfuckers from all the fuck over got playing that game of ours. Different Neophyte what's knowing different me. Few other players what's being up in the hivecluster here, Bertie, Waspfire... I got talking at to her once before. It was some fucking dream what I was thinking between here and the Capitol, but I only got learning her to be up in Midnight that last time the walls was down.

[She isn't entirely sure where Midnight is. The past two times that the walls were down, she had lingered either in the Meadous or in Sunset Circus, save for her short jaunt in...whatever that cold place was. It hadn't really occurred to her that there might be other people that she wanted to find beyond the borders of these two worlds. But now she wishes that she had at least taken a stroll through the others. Given them a cursory once-over.

The fact that this isn't the Redglare that she knows and remembers is disheartening, and it shows. But an opportunity is an opportunity. She won't pass up this chance to get to know her ancestor simply because she doesn't remember meeting her for the few short weeks they were together.]

How do I talk to her? Do I write? If I ask Fovos to deliver it to her, do you think it'll make it there like your letters come here?

[He throws his hands up and shakes his head.]

Don't be asking me how to get a talk on at her. I ain't do nothing but fuck up by what's by her, swear at it.

[Of course, that ain't exactly all of what she's asking. He puts his hands back down.]

But yeah, just write I figure. Fovos is a chill motherfucker. If my letters get on to you and back from then it ought to be working. I've told her a bit on about you. I think she'd like to know you she's just got fear on cause all she's a recluse what pretends she don't feel shit. [A pause.] Don't tell her I told at you that.

She's known some alternates more of you, I think. And she's had close dealing with elder of me. Though not exact as we know, it ain't good. Maybe get avoidancies for them things.

[Terezi's already got her hands up, like she plans to placate him somehow, when he seems to catch on to what she means. He has her undivided attention for as long as his instructions and warnings continue, filing everything away so that maybe...maybe she can work herself up to this.]

I'll be careful. I just...want to be able to know her better, you know? Not just things I've read about her. I want to make her a little more real.

[And in the process, probably prove his point. It occurs to her that she deviated from their conversation about how he didn't feel like a very inspiring ancestor to...talk about her own.]

...Have you tried asking her? How to be an ancestor? Or asking Meulin?

[He barks a laugh. It's more self-depreciating than cruel, but he couldn't blame her if she heard him all wrong.]

Fuck no.

[He shakes his head again.]

... I've talked to Meulin, for some motherfucking sense of what could be called it. We were thinking to lusii brought back in Panem. We got admitting them dead. Descendants came in natural turn. We talked on losing and trying not to be making attachment and doing so anyway and all them ways a step would be willed averting. We talked on that feeling, knowing someone's yours... but that's what it was at. Wasn't really how to be being an ancestor as all it was wishing we was better ones, taking times missed.

As for the Neophyte, I couldn't ask her advice on nothing, I think she'd just get ire on at me or close the fuck up like she's always doing. [He shrugs. He doesn't actually know.]Most I could manage was telling her of you.

[But Terezi's a Pyrope so maybe she'll get through better. Maybe.]

[The way that he talks about her ancestor has her worried... What if she doesn't take to her any more than she's taken to her matesprit? What if she's not good enough to earn her favor? They got along well enough in Panem, but only after some miscommunication had Redglare running her down like a criminal. Even after that, she still wasn't sure how much the older troll liked her. Did a few pleasant conversations mean that she would be able to engage with this Redglare, too? Or was she simply more amiable due to needing allies in a place like Panem?

The thoughts preoccupy her again, and it takes her a moment to snap out of it. She almost wants to demand what he told Redglare about her, but she bites her tongue on that train of conversation.]

Maybe... the point is that no one really knows how to do it. I mean... We're not even supposed to meet our ancestors. Or our descendants. At best, they could leave things for us, and even then, that was only the higher castes. Anything beyond that was unheard of. Assuming that someone was your ancestor felt like taboo, unless you had undeniable proof. It felt like there were so many rules, so many missteps... I was terrified the first time I met Redglare. And you had already told her my name and everything. [She pokes him in the side as retaliation, though she's long been over it.] But that terror wasn't just from meeting her... It was everything else, too.

So maybe the point is that... it's probably not a big deal if you don't know what you're supposed to be doing. You care about doing it right. That's probably already better than most of our species ever managed.

[Her fears spin round and round. He can take her hand, give it a squeeze as all to comfort, but he can say nothing wit certainty. He doesn't understand the Neophyte well enough at all to be stating on proper response to a descendant, even if he thinks the Neophyte should respond well enough, both in theory and kindness.

He listens intently, with only a slight furrow in his brow, right up until she prods his side and he's forced to grin sheepish at her. He doesn't regret what got done. He spoke no ill of her and besides, he'd hardly cared back then.]

Descendants wasn't something I ever thought about. I got hearing of it before it'd even up and occurred. I feel like I would've figured the damn things would just... never crawl out of the caverns. Die up in the trials and the better to them. Then I'd just... not have to fucking care. I don't know if I ever could've been like how the empress does at it, just culling them off, no care up at all. But then, I'd probably have got culling any all anyways since that's how I tended to do shit.

[He obviously motherfucking cares now. A lot. And definitely doesn't want to be culling Gamzee, so long as nothing goes spectacularly badly.]

This the part where I confess I ain't know what to say to him all otherwise and how all it matters to me while you get pretending like it ain't make you all a sorts nauseous? Because we can skip that part, don't you know. [He leans in to kiss her quick.] Thank you, by the by.

[She squeezes his hand back, instinctively. She knows what fears he must be feeling off of her, and she appreciates the comfort.

The conversation veers more and more to talking about Gamzee directly. She's been trying to avoid addressing him and only speaking about Kurloz's side of things. The moment he mentions a 'him', Terezi cringes internally. He's not wrong. It does make her feel nauseous, and she's glad that he understands that well enough to let her drop it.]

...You're welcome. I wish I could be happier for you. [In that, she wishes that his descendant was anyone but Gamzee Makara. But that much doesn't need to be said.]

Edited 2017-03-25 00:37 (UTC)

[He wishes she could be. He wishes all were easier. But he doesn't need it to be. This divide will not kill him.

He leans on in, bumping his head to hers, nuzzling a bit.]

You've done a lot. Just today you got on pushing much with this, with everything. And I know still you're hurting. Would only make us unhappy if you got pretending like you wasn't.

[He rubs his thumb over the top of her hand.]

Mere wish it'd not worry you so.

[His nuzzling is taken and returned, despite the uneasiness that she still feels in her heart. He's her matesprit. No matter how much trouble he causes her, she'll never stop pitying him. That's been such a constant in her life these past few years. She's not sure what she would do if that ever did change.]

I'm okay. [Or she will be. Probably. It's close enough to count, she thinks. She needs to really think about everything that she's talked about in the past few days--and they've given her a lot to think about, but once she gets that sorted... Okay is a good word for what she thinks she'll be.

She lifts her hand away from his, resting it against the side of his neck. Her fingertips brush against the curls of hair at the base of his skull.]

...What about you; are you okay? Really okay? After everything? [Everything that he had told her. They only barely touched on what had happened before the fighting had started, and he had said that he was fine--better than fine, but she's starting to wonder if she had taken that response for granted.]

[He thinks he understands. Sure, there's more fear to be felt, but being okay wasn't something what's being perfect, he thinks. In this particular instance, he believes her, and he's happy for it.

He must admit, even if only to himself, that the little returns of affection and gestures new tend to help the notion of all being well. It's hard to doubt when she's brushing through his hair like that. He closes his eyes and tilts his head to it, just short of a purr, but certainly not short a smile.

It's amazing the differences that time and trust create. He notices it now after telling a tale of injuries inflicted.

He answer with only a little confusion. Mostly a laugh.]

I got you here. I got all everyone nearby as normal. No one's hurt, nobody's dead. We've fought before, and we've always got working it up and out, haven't we? Just like we up and did. Not sure why a brother wouldn't be being okay.

[If she means anything else, it's not come to him yet.]

[It would be just like him to miss her meaning entirely. So worried about everyone else all the time, he doesn't realize that it's his well being that she's asking about.

She gives him that dead pan look that she does when he's being particularly thick. A thin press of her lips together and a tilt to her head... then she uses the hand at his neck to pull him in for a brief kiss.]

I didn't realize that scaring me half to death was something you'd forget so quickly. [She's teasing him, of course, but there's a hint of exasperation in her tone.] I don't really care how everyone else is doing right now... I just want to know about you. How are you doing?

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