[ She's not there when he comes back to the tent, and she doesn't return either. She can't erase herself, for the same reason she had never wanted to bother shielding before, but now she's just perpetually lurking out of sight, hazy and incomplete. No longer the mural of color and sound and monstrous appendages that she's been for the past several months. Maybe that was their problem: too much close contact over too short a time, like they'd always been that way. Which is stupid, since they were both fucked up and useless over all that had gone wrong in their past lives.
Yes, that is definitely the problem. She put too much weight on something that couldn't support her. She knows better. She's too much, for anyone. (That was why it had been so comfortable, splitting the weight between them: Noctis and Nyx. Two halves of a whole that had balanced out just so nicely until the one was gone and she let too much weight collapse onto the other.)
So now she's taken off all the weight. She sleeps with Rani who is too much of a traditional minded woman to understand half of what Annie says or feels, which is comfortable. She doesn't have to worry about Lakshmi putting her fingers where they shouldn't be, digging around in sludge that was better left going stagnant all on its own.
It's fine. The booze puts her to sleep just as well as Noctis would have done -- That's a lie. The liquor is hot and disorienting. Not at all like cool wash of clear water, soothing her infected thoughts. Whatever. It's great. It's fine.
Until she realizes he's there anyway. That she's sitting in the dark of that cavern he always finds her in, surrounded by tentacles rolling lazy and drunken around her. Too lazy to even harass him, flopping around like suffocating fish. Her eyes lift from where she's holding her head up with one hand. ]
[And it isn't. She can't just tell him to fuck off, as if it were something easy for him to do. Standing here, with the tentacles only half-hearted pulsating around him, he radiates disapproval. He ekes with concern, awash in this lazy drunkenness that he has to mentally fend off so that he doesn't become tempted by it himself. It's easier, this time, the wound of Nyx departing no longer bleeding fresh.
He steps forward. The floor squishes under his shoes.]
Annie, what have you been doing?
[They both know what she's been doing. And Noctis believes wholeheartedly that none of this will help. But he can. Surely he can.]
[ Hadn't she told him: I don't think you know *what* you're doing. ]
And it didn't work out. So we're done.
[ They'd given it a shot, this letting him reach out to her thing, and it had turned into the kind of disaster she really, really should have expected. She feels a little stupid for getting her hopes up, but consoles herself that it was all just... part of getting caught up in the idea that maybe this would be a new life. When really, it's the same life she's always been living. She's back out on the field again, her needs and wants a periphery to someone else's orders, and she's going to lose everyone around her. One at a time, and then in swathes, and she can't-- Care.
It will kill her, that caring shit.
Like a magic trick, she opens her palm with that fucking chocobo he left in her. ]
Take this damn thing, all it's gonna do is keep letting you in here.
[It feels like blame, and maybe he deserves it. But because something had exploded between them once, left them both in tatters and stumbling around for a new anchor, surely doesn't mean it'll always be that way. How many times had they slept peacefully next to each other? How many times has he opened himself up to her, provided Annie with a great sea of rest so that she may float beneath the surface, unfeeling to anything else but sleep? How can she so easily discard all of those times, just because for once, it had hurt?
He flexes his hand. In her palm rests the bright yellow chocobo, and he swallows, setting his jaw.]
No. It's yours. I gave it to you.
[A piece of himself for her to always carry. You don't just give something like that back, and Noctis refuses to even move to take it.]
You can't just shut me out. I've helped you before, and you've helped me. What are you going to do, drink yourself into a stupor from here on out?
[For as long as either of them survive these missions, or until they grow old and die on the station, his purpose unfulfilled.]
[ It's not just once. Nothing is ever about any individual moment with Annie. Her despair is an echo chamber that spans back to her childhood. What she feels now is what she has always felt, ever expanding, as more and more incidents add to a pile of blood and bodies. She's never been without hurt, and pretending like it could be eased was, perpetually, a fool's errand. If she let herself forget for a moment it always came back to her ten fold.
The Annie marionette jerked about on strings by her cruel intentions had been a warning. That her inability to cope and remain stable was always waiting in the wings, that every moment of weakness would be met madness and consumption.
[The chocobo lure seems to crumple pathetically in her grasp, but Noctis has not faded away. By force of will, by that lingering stubbornness, does he cling to her mind. Being enveloped in something as incomprehensible as Annie's dream, surrounded at all sides, was really no more difficult than having slept within the Crystal for all of those years.
He frowns at her. Feels guilt knife through his insides, but pretends that it doesn't cut as deep as it does. Bullheadedness dulls that edge considerably.]
Guess what, I'm still here.
[The Light of the King is never so easily snuffed out, even if it does wane in sadness and sometimes slink in shadow.
Noctis steps forward, to take hold of that wrist which smothers that little yellow chocobo. His touch is not hurtful nor cruel, but steady.]
You will literally have to force me out. I'm not just going to... abandon you to yourself.
[ She sighs. Sometimes his determination was charming, warmed her from the inside with the way he kept trying so hard despite all that had gone so terribly wrong for him. But now isn't one of those moments, and she's going to have to beat it out of him.
She sags up to her feet, pulling her arm away from him more with disdain than anger. ]
If that's what you want, Noctis, we can do that too.
[ She cricks her neck to one side, and the tentacles begin to collect themselves at her back, intrigued by the chance to fight with her the way they used to. It's been a long time. They long to be part of her world again. The separation they've endured since the portal closed has been trying. Boring. Sorrowful. ]
[Hand shaken away, it drops to his side, but his feet remain planted where they are. He gives no sign of moving, no sign of relenting. He keeps his chin up, his shoulders straight -- toss him out, tear him to pieces, but at least he did it all for her sake. At least he tried, instead of giving up and turning away. He wants to help. He will help.
For a brief moment, the throne room flashes in his mind. The seat of the King, ready for him to sacrifice all for the sake of everyone else. The analogy feels fitting, even as he blinks it away and sees Annie and her tentacles there before him.]
[ They're too close for her not hear that echoing inside of him. It's like so many spiderwebs she's trying to untangle herself from, but they keep splitting and sticking to new places. ]
There's nothing to fucking help.
[ She extends a hand, a commander giving the signal and a wall of tentacles comes crashing towards him, so much muscle and weight. ]
[Muscles coil, and the dream is generous enough to allow him movement that feels natural to Noctis; the immediate instinct to move, to dodge out of the way of those mass of tentacles doesn’t fail him. It isn’t bogged down with the usual languid nature of his dreams, and he feels the slime of a tendril brush past his face as he literally rolls out of the way.
He lifts his head, palms pressed against the ground, pulling himself back up to a standing position. A defensive position, fingers twitching, ready to summon his blade. Wondering if she really was going to go through with this, to expel him from her mind as if he were something actually unwanted and invasive and not her friend, not her broodmate, not someone important that she might be afraid to break.
He’s not sure what to think about that right now. He won’t be sure what to think about it later, in the waking world, other than it won’t settle very well with him.]
[ No, not seriously, but neither does she want to deal with him either. So the waves of tentacles keep coming, just to keep him busy and make him jump around. Either... the sun comes up, or he actually fights his way through the lot of them, and... eventually finds Annie outside.
The place where once they had gone fishing is an inlet, a smaller portion of a greater ocean. She's out floating in the grey waters, her hair drifting in tentacle-like tendrils around her head, eyes closed.
She claps her hands as he comes panting to the edge of the water, slow and sarcastic. ]
[Phasing and dodging and moving, it soon becomes apparent that this is just an attempt to push him away, the same way a tide would push flotsam back to the shore. But to his credit, he’s stubborn. He will literally shove himself through them, warping past tentacles writhing in his direction, if he has to.
And so he does appear at the edge of the water, out of breath and hair in his eyes. Frustrated and tired and ready to roll his eyes at her dismissal once more.]
No. I told you, I want to be here. What’s your problem, anyway?
[Stepping into the water, it feels cold.]
i don’t want to be the reason for this downward spiral of yours.
[ She answers blandly. Her encounter with him sure did help, but it wasn't the only flailing fucked up thing she'd done that day. Which wasn't the first day in her life that she'd done something flailing and fucked up. ]
[He says, as if he didn’t already know. Thinks he knows. Under all the chaos of drinking and drunkenness, that precious thing in the center — a feeling of being numb.]
What do you think you're gonna hear here, Noctis? I told you. I gave it a shot. I haven't been close with anyone since Therese left--
[ How long ago was that? She doesn't even know, and goddamnit is she not in the mood to think about her of all people right now. Wouldn't she just feel so vindicated, watching Annie fuck it up with someone else all over again. ]
That's not the point.
[ She wonders where Therese is, right now. Probably with that stupid psycho sister of hers, planning how to take charge of the world like they'd been raised to take charge of the world. Why hadn't Annie just gone with them.
Because she's a coward. A coward who only ever wanted to go home and make things how they used to be. ]
That's not the point.
[ She repeats, loudly, like she's trying to make sure the haunt that is Therese can fucking hear her and back the hell off with the guilty misery it's pulling to attention in the pit of her stomach.
Annie spills upright, hip deep in water, dripping, angry, ]
I'm not doing this again. I'm not making this big fucking space in myself just so it can collapse again later. [ And she whirls on him, defiant, ] I'm not.
[He’s stepping forward, to the point where the waterline meets his own waist. Like a petulant child, he swipes at the water in her direction; a pathetic little splash, born from frustration.]
You can’t just cut me off, pretend that I’m not here.
[How was it fair? It wasn’t. He wanted to help, but she also helped him — and believing that the only person left in his brood wants to ignore him and shuffle him out of her head hurts a little.]
What makes you think it’s all going to collapse? It was a train wreck last time and I’m still standing here anyway.
[ She turns towards him in surprise. How can he be like this. He's lost everything too, can't he just get with the program already? ]
I'm not trying to pretend you're not there!
[ She objects angrily. Hadn't she told him that she loved him? That he was the best person she new and that she solidly spent half her time wanting to kiss him on the mouth? ]
[Noctis bites at the inside of his lip, expression torn between irritation and doubt. He crosses his arms across his chest, so that he stops from fidgeting with his hands.]
You think I don’t know what I was getting into?
[Is that what this was, then? Trying to protect him, like he would crumble under the pressure of everything Annie? How presumptuous of her to assume that he cares about his own safety — born to die, his whole world revolved around sacrifice. He accepted that a long time ago.]
You treat me like I’m gonna break if you just look at me the wrong way. Give me some credit.
[ She wasn't. She let him in here, to start with. She let him keep coming in here. Let him keep hanging out in her head because she'd liked the concept of it: that maybe it would be okay, he'd become a part of her and be safe. But becoming a part of her is so much more than just walking across the landscape. More than that stupid chocobo (something she could summon into her hand even now because this isn't the fucking physical world, of course she can't just crush it and be done with it, fucking stupid Noctis.) ]
[He shakes his head, water rippling out around him with every movement that his body makes.]
So? [It isn't dismissive, though it sounds like it might be at first. But he means it plainly, truly inquisitive. So what if she gets out of control? Does she honestly think he'll ever prioritize his own wellness over anyone else's?
Maybe he'll reach that point of no return one day. A risk he's willing to take, as long as he's able to provide her with some mode of comfort. At least then he can feel useful.]
So you get out of control. We fix it, then we get back to where we were before.
[ The sky gets stormy with her upset, strange clouds rolling in overhead. ]
Do you not get that this isn't fuckin' new? I break like a fuckin' ice sculpture every time I lose somebody I've put too much goddamn feeling in to.
[ So maybe, just maybe, it's about protecting herself from him too. ]
And then I'm just this fucking howling thing. I lost a teacher I really liked when I was thirteen, so the fuckin' tentacles had me try to bash my face into a sink. So I just drank and painted a bunch instead. There's no fixing this shit.
I'm fucking unstable and I'm going to hurt the people hooked into my fucking head.
[ She's crying. They're his stupid tears, echoing inside of her. She wipes at her eyes furiously with the back of her hand, but it's meaningless, and the temperature drops and it starts to rain. ]
[Grey skies rolling in, he can feel the change in air pressure in his head, the anxious touch of rain that sprinkles from the sky.]
Annie...
[The words die on his tongue, unsure of what they were even going to be. The unwillingness to hurt her, the want to help -- how both of these things just cycle around to spell out pain either way. And Noctis, sentimental fool that he is, willing to pick up all of these pieces each time they shatter at his feet. Glue them back to together until they're whole again, even if they're not the same as before. Wasn't that better than nothing?
He wonders.
He can barely stand seeing her cry, even if it's a borrowed tendency. Noctis steps forward and does the only thing he can think of: he pulls her into a hug. The rain is coming down now, pelting at his hair, his shoulders. Streaming down his face.]
[ She possibly had something else to say, like maybe wasn't it enough that she drove everyone away, or that she had to watch everyone die in front of her but now there's an extra layer of bullshit where she can break their fucking minds like twigs too. But she's busy crying. There's a helpless, childlike quality to the way she does it, maybe that's his influence too or maybe that's because they're in her head and she can't put up any pretenses. She wants Nyx to come back and tell them they're both being stupid, to burn off all this salt-water and sadness with a well placed burst of fire. He's gone now, and the place where he should be is cratered in like an earthquake took it away, so much earth and wildlife dragged into the sinkhole of it, destroyed now, and out of reach. It'll be the same thing all over again if Noctis goes. Something vital will collapse inside her and she'll just start the ruinous process of it all over again.
I’ll leave you alone after you get a chance to cry.
[And it’s the truth. If he lets her cry, even if there’s no true resolution wrought from it, he’s acted as some kind of support. A figure for her to collapse upon, a pillar to lean on. It’s all he can give her right now, and he holds onto her tight, so that she doesn’t slip out from under him and disappear into the water.
The rain is cold, and his hair sticks at the side of his face. Both of them, wet and miserable, but at least they’re together in their sorrow. Comfort found in commiseration. Maybe nothing’s changed, where that’s concerned.]
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somnifacient) wrote2017-03-25 01:39 am
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Yes, that is definitely the problem. She put too much weight on something that couldn't support her. She knows better. She's too much, for anyone. (That was why it had been so comfortable, splitting the weight between them: Noctis and Nyx. Two halves of a whole that had balanced out just so nicely until the one was gone and she let too much weight collapse onto the other.)
So now she's taken off all the weight. She sleeps with Rani who is too much of a traditional minded woman to understand half of what Annie says or feels, which is comfortable. She doesn't have to worry about Lakshmi putting her fingers where they shouldn't be, digging around in sludge that was better left going stagnant all on its own.
It's fine. The booze puts her to sleep just as well as Noctis would have done -- That's a lie. The liquor is hot and disorienting. Not at all like cool wash of clear water, soothing her infected thoughts. Whatever. It's great. It's fine.
Until she realizes he's there anyway. That she's sitting in the dark of that cavern he always finds her in, surrounded by tentacles rolling lazy and drunken around her. Too lazy to even harass him, flopping around like suffocating fish. Her eyes lift from where she's holding her head up with one hand. ]
Fuck off, Noctis.
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[And it isn't. She can't just tell him to fuck off, as if it were something easy for him to do. Standing here, with the tentacles only half-hearted pulsating around him, he radiates disapproval. He ekes with concern, awash in this lazy drunkenness that he has to mentally fend off so that he doesn't become tempted by it himself. It's easier, this time, the wound of Nyx departing no longer bleeding fresh.
He steps forward. The floor squishes under his shoes.]
Annie, what have you been doing?
[They both know what she's been doing. And Noctis believes wholeheartedly that none of this will help. But he can. Surely he can.]
Let me help.
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[ Hadn't she told him: I don't think you know *what* you're doing. ]
And it didn't work out. So we're done.
[ They'd given it a shot, this letting him reach out to her thing, and it had turned into the kind of disaster she really, really should have expected. She feels a little stupid for getting her hopes up, but consoles herself that it was all just... part of getting caught up in the idea that maybe this would be a new life. When really, it's the same life she's always been living. She's back out on the field again, her needs and wants a periphery to someone else's orders, and she's going to lose everyone around her. One at a time, and then in swathes, and she can't-- Care.
It will kill her, that caring shit.
Like a magic trick, she opens her palm with that fucking chocobo he left in her. ]
Take this damn thing, all it's gonna do is keep letting you in here.
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He flexes his hand. In her palm rests the bright yellow chocobo, and he swallows, setting his jaw.]
No. It's yours. I gave it to you.
[A piece of himself for her to always carry. You don't just give something like that back, and Noctis refuses to even move to take it.]
You can't just shut me out. I've helped you before, and you've helped me. What are you going to do, drink yourself into a stupor from here on out?
[For as long as either of them survive these missions, or until they grow old and die on the station, his purpose unfulfilled.]
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The Annie marionette jerked about on strings by her cruel intentions had been a warning. That her inability to cope and remain stable was always waiting in the wings, that every moment of weakness would be met madness and consumption.
Better not to be weak.
She crushes the chocobo in her fist. ]
I can.
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He frowns at her. Feels guilt knife through his insides, but pretends that it doesn't cut as deep as it does. Bullheadedness dulls that edge considerably.]
Guess what, I'm still here.
[The Light of the King is never so easily snuffed out, even if it does wane in sadness and sometimes slink in shadow.
Noctis steps forward, to take hold of that wrist which smothers that little yellow chocobo. His touch is not hurtful nor cruel, but steady.]
You will literally have to force me out. I'm not just going to... abandon you to yourself.
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She sags up to her feet, pulling her arm away from him more with disdain than anger. ]
If that's what you want, Noctis, we can do that too.
[ She cricks her neck to one side, and the tentacles begin to collect themselves at her back, intrigued by the chance to fight with her the way they used to. It's been a long time. They long to be part of her world again. The separation they've endured since the portal closed has been trying. Boring. Sorrowful. ]
Last chance, kid, fuck off.
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For a brief moment, the throne room flashes in his mind. The seat of the King, ready for him to sacrifice all for the sake of everyone else. The analogy feels fitting, even as he blinks it away and sees Annie and her tentacles there before him.]
You know I can't do that.
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[ They're too close for her not hear that echoing inside of him. It's like so many spiderwebs she's trying to untangle herself from, but they keep splitting and sticking to new places. ]
There's nothing to fucking help.
[ She extends a hand, a commander giving the signal and a wall of tentacles comes crashing towards him, so much muscle and weight. ]
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He lifts his head, palms pressed against the ground, pulling himself back up to a standing position. A defensive position, fingers twitching, ready to summon his blade. Wondering if she really was going to go through with this, to expel him from her mind as if he were something actually unwanted and invasive and not her friend, not her broodmate, not someone important that she might be afraid to break.
He’s not sure what to think about that right now. He won’t be sure what to think about it later, in the waking world, other than it won’t settle very well with him.]
Annie! You seriously wanna do this?!
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The place where once they had gone fishing is an inlet, a smaller portion of a greater ocean. She's out floating in the grey waters, her hair drifting in tentacle-like tendrils around her head, eyes closed.
She claps her hands as he comes panting to the edge of the water, slow and sarcastic. ]
Great work. Would you fuckin' wake up already.
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And so he does appear at the edge of the water, out of breath and hair in his eyes. Frustrated and tired and ready to roll his eyes at her dismissal once more.]
No. I told you, I want to be here. What’s your problem, anyway?
[Stepping into the water, it feels cold.]
i don’t want to be the reason for this downward spiral of yours.
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[ She answers blandly. Her encounter with him sure did help, but it wasn't the only flailing fucked up thing she'd done that day. Which wasn't the first day in her life that she'd done something flailing and fucked up. ]
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[He says, as if he didn’t already know. Thinks he knows. Under all the chaos of drinking and drunkenness, that precious thing in the center — a feeling of being numb.]
Talk to me.
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[ How long ago was that? She doesn't even know, and goddamnit is she not in the mood to think about her of all people right now. Wouldn't she just feel so vindicated, watching Annie fuck it up with someone else all over again. ]
That's not the point.
[ She wonders where Therese is, right now. Probably with that stupid psycho sister of hers, planning how to take charge of the world like they'd been raised to take charge of the world. Why hadn't Annie just gone with them.
Because she's a coward. A coward who only ever wanted to go home and make things how they used to be. ]
That's not the point.
[ She repeats, loudly, like she's trying to make sure the haunt that is Therese can fucking hear her and back the hell off with the guilty misery it's pulling to attention in the pit of her stomach.
Annie spills upright, hip deep in water, dripping, angry, ]
I'm not doing this again. I'm not making this big fucking space in myself just so it can collapse again later. [ And she whirls on him, defiant, ] I'm not.
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You can’t just cut me off, pretend that I’m not here.
[How was it fair? It wasn’t. He wanted to help, but she also helped him — and believing that the only person left in his brood wants to ignore him and shuffle him out of her head hurts a little.]
What makes you think it’s all going to collapse? It was a train wreck last time and I’m still standing here anyway.
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I'm not trying to pretend you're not there!
[ She objects angrily. Hadn't she told him that she loved him? That he was the best person she new and that she solidly spent half her time wanting to kiss him on the mouth? ]
I'm trying to protect you from me. Fucking moron.
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You think I don’t know what I was getting into?
[Is that what this was, then? Trying to protect him, like he would crumble under the pressure of everything Annie? How presumptuous of her to assume that he cares about his own safety — born to die, his whole world revolved around sacrifice. He accepted that a long time ago.]
You treat me like I’m gonna break if you just look at me the wrong way. Give me some credit.
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[ She wasn't. She let him in here, to start with. She let him keep coming in here. Let him keep hanging out in her head because she'd liked the concept of it: that maybe it would be okay, he'd become a part of her and be safe. But becoming a part of her is so much more than just walking across the landscape. More than that stupid chocobo (something she could summon into her hand even now because this isn't the fucking physical world, of course she can't just crush it and be done with it, fucking stupid Noctis.) ]
Not just with you. I get out of control--
[ Whether I'm drinking or not. ]
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So? [It isn't dismissive, though it sounds like it might be at first. But he means it plainly, truly inquisitive. So what if she gets out of control? Does she honestly think he'll ever prioritize his own wellness over anyone else's?
Maybe he'll reach that point of no return one day. A risk he's willing to take, as long as he's able to provide her with some mode of comfort. At least then he can feel useful.]
So you get out of control. We fix it, then we get back to where we were before.
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[ The sky gets stormy with her upset, strange clouds rolling in overhead. ]
Do you not get that this isn't fuckin' new? I break like a fuckin' ice sculpture every time I lose somebody I've put too much goddamn feeling in to.
[ So maybe, just maybe, it's about protecting herself from him too. ]
And then I'm just this fucking howling thing. I lost a teacher I really liked when I was thirteen, so the fuckin' tentacles had me try to bash my face into a sink. So I just drank and painted a bunch instead. There's no fixing this shit.
I'm fucking unstable and I'm going to hurt the people hooked into my fucking head.
[ She's crying. They're his stupid tears, echoing inside of her. She wipes at her eyes furiously with the back of her hand, but it's meaningless, and the temperature drops and it starts to rain. ]
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Annie...
[The words die on his tongue, unsure of what they were even going to be. The unwillingness to hurt her, the want to help -- how both of these things just cycle around to spell out pain either way. And Noctis, sentimental fool that he is, willing to pick up all of these pieces each time they shatter at his feet. Glue them back to together until they're whole again, even if they're not the same as before. Wasn't that better than nothing?
He wonders.
He can barely stand seeing her cry, even if it's a borrowed tendency. Noctis steps forward and does the only thing he can think of: he pulls her into a hug. The rain is coming down now, pelting at his hair, his shoulders. Streaming down his face.]
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She sags into him anyway. ]
Just... leave me alone...
[ It was a lot easier that way. ]
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[And it’s the truth. If he lets her cry, even if there’s no true resolution wrought from it, he’s acted as some kind of support. A figure for her to collapse upon, a pillar to lean on. It’s all he can give her right now, and he holds onto her tight, so that she doesn’t slip out from under him and disappear into the water.
The rain is cold, and his hair sticks at the side of his face. Both of them, wet and miserable, but at least they’re together in their sorrow. Comfort found in commiseration. Maybe nothing’s changed, where that’s concerned.]
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It's your fault I'm crying in the first place, you stupid dickhead.
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