thecapitol | every spark of friendship and love

Entry tags:

every spark of friendship and love

Who| Karkat and Nill, then the Signless
What| Karkat finally revives after his canon update.
Where| Nill and the Signless's suites.
When| About a week after his death in the arena.
Warnings/Notes| Descriptions of death and violence, references to abuse, Karkat's filthy mouth.

Karkat's death had been sharp and violent, an end sudden despite the fight preceding, all too much more at once than he could fight off. Even with two knives there's only so much you can do against fangs that long, and less still once they're in your neck. And so he had died, throat torn out, swift and bloody and without a chance to see Nill safe.

And then he was back on LOFAF. Things were fine until they very suddenly weren't, with a call from Meenah heralding chaos and light and fire and hate. He saw the great red girth of his Empress's battleship, but even that took a backseat to Gamzee. Fucking Gamzee, covered in blood, beating Terezi to the same state. Kanaya had gone for him with her chainsaw, but after everything, every last betrayal and hurt that clown had caused, he wanted to--

And it was over. Sword through his chest, once, twice, and the heat of lava burning him to ashes before he could bleed out.

It took him a long time after he woke to even head up to his room. It's a long time still before he leaves it.

A) for Nill
There's one thing he has to deal with first, and that's Nill. She came to mind swiftly when he got to thinking about the arena again, and it didn't take much to find out she'd died right after him. He checked other names in the process, Dave and Terezi and even Initiate, but they're still going, still alive, and he doesn't yet know how he'll talk to them once it's over. But Nill--Nill if anyone knows his fears. She's the one he talked to about all this back during their first arena. And besides, he wants to see her okay again, not hungry or cold or having to fight, a point of stability against all the chaos in his head.

He heads up to District 9, hoping that he'll find her here first instead of the roof, that she's at least in the building instead of out for who knows what. He makes a beeline for her door and knocks clearly without saying anything.

B) for the Signless
It's later that night, after he's met with Nill, that he turns his attention anywhere else. What happened is distinctly a troll thing more than anything else, and with his teammates still in the arena, that leaves only his ancestor. It's not a last-ditch choice, not really. The Signless has been helpful, and wasn't it him who said he can't carry stuff alone? Even if his past self's moirallegiance with him is a done deal, and that's not what he seeks, he feels the need to talk it out with someone from his own culture. And even if the Signless is one who opposed it and tried to bring change... That perspective might be something he needs.

He finds his way up to 12's floor this time, and his knocks are soft as his voice when he asks through the door, "You there?"

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There's no immediate answer except the sound of padding feet, and then the door swings open. Just as Signless expected, having to watch the arena with only limited ability to influence the events that take place within it has been trying. It's an incredible relief to see Karkat here, now, whole and alive instead of broken and bleeding.

The tiny lusus the Capitol put on Display is at his heels, making small clicking noises. He holds it back with a foot even though it seems very interested in making friends with Karkat's ankles.

"I am. Do you need to talk?"

He can't imagine why else Karkat might be here other than needing something. Their relationship isn't exactly one that includes 'just hanging out'.

Karkat sags when he hears the steps in relief that he's around. He's not sure what he'd do, otherwise--nothing dangerous, but he had no other plan in mind. Just the same, when the Signless opens the door Karkat looks like he's been through hell. Not physically, as every sign of hurt and injury is gone, but of the kind that leaves marks in the face and expression. Even after as long as they took to bring him back, he's tired.

"I went back," he says with no hesitation. "To Paradox Space." He figures that should be enough until he gets inside.

This is not the first time that Signless has heard those words from this troll. Immediately his manner changes from curious relief to worry. He steps back from the door, still steering the tiny crab lusus with his foot to keep it from escaping into the hallway.

"Come in. Tell me about it. How long were you there?"

Karkat wouldn't know a thing about what other-him went through, but that's not really the important thing right now. He steps in with the Signless's invitation, eyes on the mini-lusus to watch he doesn't escape from behind his foot before the door can be closed.

"A few hours, maybe? Not long. I didn't keep track." His focus lifts back to his face. "After a while everything got chaotic, which didn't help. Can we sit down?"

He asks it for both their sakes. He knows he's going to want to be seated for the worst of it, and he presumes in the way of heavy subjects that the Signless will want it, too.

'Chaotic'. That doesn't bode well, he thinks as he nods and gestures toward the bed. That's really all there is to sit on except for the pile (a rough nest of blankets built up in one corner), which is out of the question. He takes a seat himself, only paying partial attention as miniature-Crabdad hunkers down on his feet with a grumpy chitter.

"Start wherever you like."

He ends up sitting besides Signless, a small space apart. Better here than the pile, indeed. He stops worrying about the crab.

By now he's already told the story once, so he doesn't hesitate much at the beginning. "I showed up back where I was before, with Kanaya. Things were fine for a bit, but then Meenah--you know who Meenah is, right?" He glances up at him. He should, with his visions. "She messaged me saying there was trouble. So I told Kanaya, and I called Dave, and Kanaya and I went to see what the fuck was going on, which is when shit got weird. There was this giant white light in the sky, and then a green one--that had to be Jade--but it disappeared fast. The forest caught on fire, though, and at one point Dave flew by chasing... I think it was Jack and someone else. He didn't stop, and basically we didn't have a damn clue what was going on. And then the Empress showed up in her actual battleship above everything when we finally got past the trees."

This would surely be enough to react to, but it serves nothing more than a verbose setting of the stage. He takes a deep breath, holds it, then exhales.

"The important part was in front of us. There was this lake of lava with Jade's built up hive collapsed onto it... But Gamzee and Terezi were there, fighting each other, covered in their own blood. He--she and him had some past shit between them, from the meteor, but I didn't expect it to turn into that. So I--I couldn't forgive him anymore. I couldn't just let him kill someone important to me again, and he already made it more than clear that he didn't want me for a moirail. I rolled up my sleeves, I took out my sickle, and..."

Here it is: the hard part.

"I ran for him. I wanted to kill him. But he grabbed me before I could attack, stabbed Terezi's sword cane through my chest--twice--and he dumped me in the lava below us. I died--I'm dead." He tries to swallow, but his throat is too tight. "I'm doomed, just like I thought."

The more that Karkat talks the more pensive Signless's expression becomes. He doesn't quite understand everything that Karkat is saying but he gets enough of the gist to understand. Some of this is news to him -- that Karkat and Gamzee were no longer moirails when the last he'd known they had been, that Gamzee and Terezi had ever had anything between them, that the Empress was involved. He'll need to get a more complete story from Karkat, but that can wait.

"I'm so sorry," he says, his voice soft. "Do you want advice on how to cope, or did you just want someone to tell?"

He might be able to help -- he has thoughts on this very subject -- but he knows that in a delicate state help is not always wanted.

He shakes his head a little first, then thinks before answering. "I already told Nill. But you're a troll, and not a normal one who'd just..." He motions airily. "... tell me to suck it up, or that I deserved it, or whatever."

He's cullbait, after all, and he already knows he's a shit troll. Too soft about death even now, after he tried to kill his ex.

"I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't want to hear what you'd say," he finishes.

"Alright," he says, letting out a long breath and lacing his fingers together in his lap.

"I'm as dead as you. If I go back, all I have waiting for me is an execution. You and I are both doomed back in our native realities."

He holds up a hand.

"But. By coming here we've split the timeline again, haven't we? And here in this world we aren't doomed. You're still alive. I have no shackles waiting for me. We can forge new futures here. Don't think of what you experienced as an ending. Think of it as permission to move forward here now that your time there is done."

Somewhere between start and stop Karkat looks at him, at his face, watching him finish out. His skin just creases between the eyebrows.

"I," he starts. "I thought you were going to comment on the other thing." The thing of killing and being killed.

But really, this is important too, and maybe more important in its way. It's not even that he didn't think about it, because he wouldn't have said anything if he hadn't. It's bugged him and worried at him and stuck there in the back of his mind, uncomfortable as a pebble in a shoe, but just as small until proof hit home.

He's thought about what the Signless is saying, too. His head dips, that crease deepening. He spoke about it with Nill. It came up crookedly with the Initiate before that, the worry of irrelevance, and the chance for resistance in this world. He's wearing his token tucked under his shirt, his sign--their sign--that he chose for defiance more than familiarity. It's probably better he doesn't tell him about it; there are always listening ears.

"I want to be worth something," he mutters, shamed to admit it. "I can't have that there anymore. I have to... I don't know how to find it here, yet."

He knows what he wants: to resist, to fight, to win them freedom and safety; but he doesn't yet have a foothold to start.

Later Signless will be bothered to note that he's become so desensitized to dying that it didn't even occur to him that that might have been what Karkat needed reassuring about. Death has become less of a monumental thing in his mind and more of a slight inconvenience. Maybe it's good that he's out of the arenas.

"Everyone is worth something, Karkat." He searches for how to phrase what he wants to say in a way that's safe and settles on:

"It's hard to remember that here, I know. It's easy to feel as though nothing you do will change anything, but I think right now it's better to aim for survival than for change. You can find worth in supporting others and worth in your own inner strength. Determination to survive and lift others up with you is something that cannot be taken away unless you give it up."

He's half talking to Karkat, half affirming to himself his own choices. Panem cannot be changed the way he tried to change Alternia. Focusing on the people Panem is hurting instead of on Panem itself is the best he can do.

There's other worries in his heart, less about the death than it might be, though that's there too. He sits in a stew of them as the Signless speaks, imparting more wisdom and reassurance. Everyone is worth something, he says, like it's so easy. It runs baldly in the face of what Alternia told him.

"I'm shit at that," he protests but quietly. "I didn't save anyone in my first real arena, and in the last one all the help I gave Nill went to waste because she just died right after me." There's another thing that's bugged him: that feeling of being useless, of all his effort gone to waste. "Dave is still there, but that has nothing to do with me, and now I can't do anything for him at all." And he has other friends, names he checked before, whom he didn't even run into this time.

"You say it's hard to remember, but you talk like this stuff is easy to begin with."

"I know it isn't. It is very, very hard when all your life you're told the opposite. Unfortunately the only way to begin to believe it so that it does become easier is to keep telling it to yourself until it sticks."

He shifts a little so he can look at Karkat more fully (Mini-Crabdad chitters when he's disturbed).

"It's better to have tried, to have given help and support even if that effort didn't result in the best possible outcome, than to not have done anything at all. It's not as black and white as either complete success or utter failure."

The Signless says good things, but Karkat is ever a Vantas and ever stubborn. He'll carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if he gets it in his mind, and he'll argue anyone who tries to take it from him. It's harder still when there's lives involved, when people have died because of some action or inaction or insufficiency on his part. And it's so easy to turn everything into that in his mind. Even coincidences and bad luck seem like inadequacies when viewed from a lens tinted with self doubt.

"But everything keeps fucking up," he protests again. "Not just here, either. Back home--I'm doomed there, I can't go back--but if I had just done something different it wouldn't have happened that way. If I tried harder with Gamzee instead of letting him pull away, if I said something when I noticed him and Terezi instead of staying out of it... That whole trip was just one sinking pit of interpersonal chaos, and in the end when I felt like I had no choice but to kill him I couldn't even do that before I died."

He looks up at him, and there's something sharp and hurt in his eyes. "How was that worth anything in the end, Signless? Tell me that. My ugly shit clown moirail dumped me for his religion, I couldn't stop him from abusing my friend--I didn't even know the full extent of it until too late--and then I couldn't protect her at all! Yes, let's just celebrate how great that was!" The look has transmuted, hardening in the set of his eyes and the turn of his mouth, but the hurt is still there. "Karkat Vantas: Ultimate Failure! Half his team died, his best friend left him, his moirail dumped him, and he couldn't save anyone! Sounds like a party to me!!!"

A lot of this is familiar to Signless, not because of the other Karkat but because he's seen the same things in himself. The self-doubt, the self-hate, the stubbornness, the need to make every little inadequacy into an unforgivable failing.

"I never said that any of that was good," he points out. "It sounds like it was extremely painful, and I'm sorry that it's hurt you like this, but you also can't get hung up on what you didn't do. It won't help you, or them, and it won't change anything."

Miniature Crabdad, apparently agitated by Karkat's frustration, scuttles sideways and rubs up against his feet with a series of concerned chirps.

"I can't tell you whether or not it was worth anything, because I don't know. Maybe, like my own failure and death, it sets the stage for something much better in the future. Maybe it doesn't." He runs a hand through his messy hair, pushing his bangs back. The black lines of his tattoos stand out against his grey skin but for the first time he doesn't particularly notice them.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to help you. If I could fix everything for you, tell you exactly what you need to hear to make it better, I would."

Which sounds kind of... romantic. Aw, shit, no. For once in his life he honestly doesn't feel pale attraction to someone and honestly just wants to offer them advice as a friend.

"... I don't mean that in a pale way. If this at any point gets too close to a feelings jam and you'd like me to back off, I will."

Karkat almost wants to argue more, just to get all this energy and useless feeling out in another outlet, but his ancestor goes on and Mini-Crabdad rubs against him. That tears his gaze back down, and he lets out some of what he's feeling in a slow exhale. It's not perfect, and the words don't really fix it, and he does wish like the Signless says that there was an easy fix, but--

Oh, fuck.

He puts slaps his hand to his face. "No. No, that's not..."

Maybe he could use a moirail, with as much as he's gone through, and it hurts again in light of things with Gamzee. (He killed him.) The Signless isn't it, though, and he doesn't feel that way about him.

"I'm a moron and I don't know what I'm doing," he mutters, then drops his hand. "But that's not what I'm going for. You--you've..."

His brow creases even as he looks down at the tiny lusus at his feet.

Edited (less repetitive) 2015-03-21 07:26 (UTC)

Suddenly he looks up.

"What the hell is with you and Roland?"

Just like that, the other shoe drops. Not that Signless didn't expect it -- he saw their conversation, or at least what of it got through editing. He knew Karkat planned to ask, and he's probably far better-equipped to answer than Roland was.

It doesn't stop him fidgeting just a tad awkwardly.

"We're quadrantmates but because he's a human and doesn't conceptualize romance as trolls do what we have is unconventional by troll standards."

Oh, he notices that fidgeting, don't you think he doesn't. Karkat's gaze narrows. He dips slowly, not looking away (awkward though that is) as he reaches to gather up Mini-Crabdad from his feet. Which is pretty weird, actually, but putting a miniature version of his lusus on his lap is less strange than whatever his ancestor's got going with the animate roadkill.

(He must protect tiny crab from this romantic heathen.)

"Don't you give me that. He said you were flushed and pale, and when I kept questioning him about why and whether you were just letting him call it whatever, he acted like I was saying you lied to him or that you wanted him as his..." His face screws up. "Baby mamma? What the fuck is his culture, Signless?"

Edited 2015-03-21 08:04 (UTC)

"Strange," he says, and there's no malice in it. That's not necessarily a bad thing but it's a fact he can't really deny.

"But he isn't wrong. Originally our relationship was far more on the pale side of things, but flushed feelings crept their way in over time."

Okay. Here it goes.

"This isn't unusual for me. I often feel affection in multiple quadrants for one person, or for multiple people in the same quadrant. My first and longest-lasting relationship was one that blended elements of every quadrant. It's just how I care for people."

This scene has got to look ridiculous. Karkat is glowering doubtfully at Signless while his ersatz lusus chitters and settles on his lap. He vaguely remembers hearing about the other thing, the thing with Nepeta's ancestor, but he never stopped to ask because he didn't care and now it's also not the point.

"Okay, but consider: is your pan rotted? That's not how romance works," he argues. "Unless it's a red-black flip which everyone knows is difficult but possible to sustain, you tell your various emotional organs to shut up and stop being stupid. You don't do red and pale, let alone blend them like a wiggler smearing dinner across his nutrition plateau. And what are you doing dragging a human into it? For the love of the Mother Grub's dusty memory, please tell me you haven't corrupted these humans here into thinking the quadrants work that way. You think I have the patience to straighten it out for all of them?"

"I haven't. I don't tell others how to express their care for each other," he says. There's just the hint of an edge to his voice.

"Are you really telling me that you believe red and pale can't coexist, as though wanting to emotionally support someone and be physically affectionate with them is an impossibility? Quadrants are a guideline, Karkat. They show ways it is possible to care for someone and give us words to put to those feelings, but they shouldn't be treated as law. I see red affection as an optional but fulfilling extension of the comfort and intimacy that is present in a pale relationship.

"I 'dragged' a human into it because for a very long time that human was one of the only people I could confide in and rely on. He kept me sane and steady through a very uncertain time in my life and I care for him a great deal. The fact that he's human and that our relationship is best described as a mix of two quadrants, or even as an aquadrant human form of affection, is not the point. I believe less strongly in arbitrary cultural divisions than I do in my own right to happiness, and if that offends you, you'll have to learn to deal with it."

"It's a wiggler mistake," he snaps back, face, posture, and tone all settling into a truly teenagerish bout of stubbornness. "You expect kids to be the ones mixing up whether they feel one way or the other. They're not a guideline; they're how things are, and they were law for perfectly good reason and the sake of neat social order." An order that would have had him culled for being a mutant, he knows, but that doesn't in the least diminish his devotion.

"I have spent actual sweeps studying and devoting myself to the subject of proper romance, listening to friends vent their quadrant troubles to me and sorting their royally tangled shit out into something manageable. I've watched troll and human film, read their novels, observed and scrutinized it all for a full understanding, so don't give me this grey-aquadrant demi-pan-red pile of leavings, Kankri. It's not my fault you can't figure out how to settle down with your weird, ugly boyfriend!"

Edited 2015-03-21 08:55 (UTC)

"Oh, yes, a neat social order where any troll who cannot find their two destined concupiscent partners while they're still barely out of wigglerhood can expect to be culled the moment the drones show up. Where any relationship that doesn't fit within a strict category must be pared down, made 'acceptable', even at the cost of doing harm. Where pailing is really only a way to stay alive for another breeding cycle, and sex is not a right but an obligation. I see now. How very sensible."

The slight edge to his voice has darkened, is dripping with venom. One of his greatest problems with Alternian culture, beyond its violence and divisiveness, is how it turned romance into a way to further divide people and enact a quiet genocide on those who didn't conform well enough.

"There is no such thing as proper romance. There is only people who care for each other and want to express that care in the way that works best for them. I am not mistaken, I am not mixed up, and on top of that I never asked you to attempt to police my love life. Why does it bother you so much?"

If the Signless knows Karkat well, he should know too that it's not going to be that easy to make him step off.

"That's not how it works." He's repeating himself, but he feels the need to when his ancestor clearly isn't ~~acquiescing to his stubborn opinions~~ understanding.

"Besides, literally everyone knows those expectations. It was an obligation for the sake of continuing the species, and anyone who couldn't contribute by following clearly defined and express laws was only culled for their own fault in not complying, either by being a defiant rotpan or an emotionally incompetent genetic dud. You find a matesprit, you find a kismesis, you contribute as is a proper troll's duty, and you make the species stronger." The edge of his hand hits his opposite palm as he finishes out, punctuating each word. "Just because you would have been culled for trying doesn't mean the base system had no value, so don't mix up your ideals with it just because you can't sort your feelings like a proper troll!"

Much as he missed the first Karkat when he disappeared, the Signless did not miss these long diatribes about what a 'proper' troll should be. They frustrated him then and they frustrate him now.

"Romance should not be something primarily motivated by fear. Fear of being culled, fear of being the only troll who isn't touched by serendipity." The way he says that word shows exactly how much contempt he has for that particular concept.

"It isn't right that young trolls should seek out relationships because they are afraid of retribution or being seen as 'deficient' rather than simply because they want companionship and support, or advice, or a reason to be stronger, or someone else to tell them when to step back. I don't know how you can be so deeply invested in a system that is so harmful. If there were more freedom and less fear of death for not jumping through all of the correct hoops, perhaps trolls as whole would approach romance not with a sense of resigned duty but with excitement. Do you know why all of your friends had so many romantic issues? Because the system itself is flawed."

He gives Karkat a very level look.

"You keep saying 'everyone knows' and 'everyone thinks', but I think you're just scrambling to justify your own insecurity and bias. The way I conduct my romantic affairs hurts no one, least of all you. Next you'll be mad at me for not using buckets, even though there wasn't any reason for me to do so on Alternia and there isn't any here either."

No, no, he's wrong, this whole thing is wrong. Karkat's teeth grit and his shoulders tense, a look in his eyes like a devout believer faced with brazen sacrilege. To him it feels that the Signless is making stupid presumptions, and the way he blames the system for the romantic problems of his friends about makes him want to scream. He looks like he's gearing up for it--his fangs bare, ready to bite off another rapid-fire lecture on how wrong he is--and his offense only builds for the accusations against him. His mouth has just slipped open to draw a breath to cut him off with when Signless drops the bomb.

Scuttle--shuffle--THUMP, and Karkat falls off the bed in his haste to get away from him. "YOU WHAT?"

Tiny Crabdad screes his offense, and Karkat interrupts his own only to hiss and swat away his nipping pincers as he clambers back to his feet.

"What do you mean you don't--you just--without--inside--"

His back hits a wall. By now his face is an impressive shade of cherry.

"You pervert!" He jabs a finger out at him, warding and accusative. "You sick fucking pervert! You blend concupiscent and conciliatory and you don't even use a fucking pail?! You're disgusting, oh my god!"

Edited (I have got to stop repeating words) 2015-03-21 09:53 (UTC)

At this point he's beyond being angry. This is such an over-the-top reaction that he can't even take it completely seriously. He keeps his eyes on Karkat's, though he bends a little to lift Tiny Crabdad onto the bed when he flees from Karkat's swatting hands.

"If you say so. And yet, it still isn't hurting anyone. I still don't see what the problem is."

"You--" He's still pointing. "You--"

He frowns hard.

"It's not fair!"

Finally the pointing stops, but his hands soon fall into their bevy of gestures and motions as he goes on.

"How come you get to be this quadrant-defying, pailless weirdo and get people who go along with it? Multiple people?"

It isn't the direction he expected this conversation to take, Signless will admit. It's also enough to shake off the last of his annoyance. He always suspected that Karkat was perhaps overcompensating for personal reasons with his quadrant fervor, but even back when they were moirails he never really brought it up. He'd hoped it might come out at a better time, but now is good enough.

"I'm just up-front about my feelings and how I express them. People go along with it, I would assume, because I'm honest and base my relationships upon mutual care and trust rather than social obligation."

Tiny Crabdad noses into his lap and hisses in a way that is probably meant to be affectionate. Probably.

"No one is stopping you from having the same freedom except yourself, Karkat." His voice turns gentle. "It isn't a bad thing to want that."

"Woah--woah."

That first part made sense (in a way that's completely stupid and he wants to yell at), but the second came around and hit him like a slap to the face. His blush gets another boost, spreading to burn his neck and the tips of his ears.

"What are you talking about? I never said--" A nervous laugh slips out of him. "Very fucking funny, Signless. Wow, let's go find the Gamemakers to bump your score, because that was one giant leap to make! Is that--is that your talent? Quadrant blurring and empty, blind, totally baseless accusations?"

He might be trying to back through the wall again.

"I don't think they're baseless at all. You were the one who said it wasn't fair, remember. I won't push you if you aren't ready to discuss it, but when you are, I'll be here."

He scratches Mini-Crabdad absently under one of his head ridges, which prompts a fresh series of chitters.

"But if I do leave you alone about this, will you leave me alone about my horrible, perverted lifestyle?"

"There are perfectly valid reasons for it to not be fair besides your empty guesses." He is a tiny cherry, angry and round. "And you're still gross."

His hand is flailing behind and to the side, and--there--finally finds the doorknob.

"I'm leaving."

He lets it sit a second, then turns and slips through the door. He's going to... going to... he doesn't know what, but something that isn't here.

Edited (forgot a word) 2015-03-21 11:27 (UTC)

The issue with how Nill learned to survive is that it's largely self-sufficient, and tends not to work very well when other people are involved. It's no fault of her own, or anyone else's or that matter. Her first year of violence that involved someone else was Heine, who fought recklessly not because he was truly reckless, but because it was easier. He relied on his body to heal itself while he finished what he was doing, and if that involved several bullets in the chest he was largely alright with that. The people that actually taught her to fight back concentrated on things she could do by herself; the idea was that there would usually be someone around to protect her, and then it wouldn't be an issue. They were wrong, and had Nill known better, Karkat might not have died the way he did.

It's been a week since, and though the avoxes hadn't cleared out Karkat's room the last she had checked, she was still left worried and anxious, unsure if they would decide to just not bring him back. Luckily Linden had been sober when Nill came back herself, and because of it she hadn't touched much of any substances, at least not publicly. It's also why, when she opens the door to her room, it smells slightly of cigarette smoke.

Perhaps a little predictably, the surprise is obvious in Nill's expression once she sees who's actually knocking on her door. She doesn't often get visitors but she certainly wasn't expecting it to be Karkat standing there. It takes a second or two of processing before Nill simply reaches over and pulls Karkat into a loose hug.

It's an awkward moment that passes between the door opening and her action, one where he's caught on looking at her and a failure to think of what to say. His head is a jumble, even after as long as he took to come up here, and nothing comes out before she pulls him into the hug. That, at least, is easy to answer.

His arms circle her middle, beneath her wings, a little more firmly than her but not tight. He mumbles into the region of her shoulder, "I'm sorry." For not killing the cat, or for not lasting long enough to see her safe, or for the worry she might have had for how long it took him to return. It may not be his fault, but he feels the need to say something.

Nill is all too quick to shake her head when he apologizes, an easy dismissal. There was nothing to apologize for, he did nothing wrong, everything was okay. It takes her a moment longer before she actually pulls away and when she does her eyes are obviously a little watery looking, but no tears slip free. She lifts a hand, but aborts the gesture about halfway, settling on his shoulder when she had originally meant to touch his cheek. She doesn't want to cause another awkward social faux pas. Mostly the small smile on her face just looks relieved.

She takes a step back and gestures him inside, free to sit wherever he wants, like usual. The desk has a few open books and a notebook spread out, no doubt what she'd been trying to occupy herself with before he showed up.

He lets her sever things when she draws back, and makes no comment to her motion when the hand ends up on the non-awkward spot. It's a comfort, and while he can't return her smile, he is grateful for the whole of her welcome.

He follows inside and takes a seat on the side of her bed.

"... I went back," he says, after a moment. He could have asked what happened to her, but he knows already and there's not much point to dragging out the inevitable. "I went back to Paradox Space, and I died."

Though there's more to it, he looks up at her then. It's got to be more than enough to react to before he gets into the heavy details.

Nill shuts the door after a brief peek out, mostly to see if Dave was here, if she should say something to him - but it didn't seem like he was, and even if he had been surely Karkat would see him when he wanted to, if he hadn't already. She's in the process of sitting down, having grabbed something to write with and on, when the new information comes, and Nill's eyes go a little wide as she looks as Karkat.

He died, again. He died on his way in here too, and the three times since... He was actually higher up than her on the list of deaths. Five. The poor kid.

Her expression is quick to grow worried, but if he was telling her then he must have wanted to talk, and Nill is more than willing to let him do that. The notebook is flipped open to an empty page.

what happened?

Karkat's not concerned with Dave in this moment, but that's because he checked who was still in the arena earlier. Instead Nill's the only one he'd really call a friend who's here yet, save perhaps his ancestor, but he'll worry about that later.

Her reaction ends up being short and direct, but it's one he can work with. His lip gets caught between his teeth as he thinks.

"... Gamzee happened, if you want the really plain version. But really, there was a bunch of shit going on," he starts. "When I first went back, it was fine for a while until this sort-of friend of mine called me saying there was trouble. Kanaya and I went to check it out, and then suddenly there was white and green light in the sky, and the trees caught on fire, and Dave flew by chasing dog people... Even the Empress's battleship showed up out of nowhere above us. It was chaos, and I don't know what even half of it was about."

He's spent time thinking it over since he got back, and he's still more confused than anything. He's pretty sure one of the people Dave was chasing was Jack, but it doesn't tell him what the rest was about. Altogether it's superfluous right now.

"Once Kanaya and I got out of the forest, though, we found Gamzee and..."

This is the hard part. Not just for dying, but because it feels wrong somehow to just go into what happened to someone else who's still here. Is there a protocol for it? Talking about someone else's abuse seems out of line, but does it matter if the person hasn't experienced it? But on the other hand, how clear would it be with the details left off? He bites his lip, then sighs.

Though unsatisfied, he says, "We found Gamzee and Terezi. I'm not going to go into all what happened between them, but suffice it to say things were bad. They were fighting--covered in their own blood--and I couldn't let it continue. I couldn't, I...

"I hate him," he says, with sudden, sharp clarity. "He took every last shred of worth and value he had and killed it. He was trying to kill her, it looked like. I... I went--I wanted--I wanted to kill him for it. And I ran up with my sickle out--pushed my fucking sleeves up for it, even..." He shakes his head. Why did he think that was going to help? "But he took her cane, this one with a sword in it. He grabbed me, he stabbed me through the chest, and he dumped me in the lava below us before I was even dead."

Unlike the last Arena, Nill hasn't been quite so vigilant with watching the results. She does when she's feeling particularly masochistic, like she's failing the people still in the Arena, but she's also been spending time with Linden, and he mostly pays attention to 6. She sent Beth things though when Daryl died. She doesn't know Dave well enough to have paid attention during what little time she saw him, though she did worry a little. He just wasn't a priority. Maybe she should have paid better attention.

The minute he says Gamzee's name Nill knows whatever happened is going to be bad, especially with how much Karkat struggles to get the meaning, as much detail without... what? There are a million things he could be careful about saying. Mostly she thinks it must have been something he doesn't want the Capitol to know, and the assumption, though false, is enough to keep her from asking.

But-- Kanaya. It doesn't stick out as much as Gamzee's name does, not in meaning, but it still sits at the back of her throat, a worried lump she doesn't know how to give reassurance to. She can't ask. She refused to endanger her by letting them think she was interested. It doesn't make it hurt less to do.

Even knowing it's bad, Nill's not prepared for just how awful it really is. At some point her eyes go just a little wide but she never moves to interrupt him or to try to write. Not until he's done.

When she's done writing she holds up the note in one hand, reaching with the other to carefully touch her fingertips to his arm, a small attempt at comfort.

I'm so sorry.
after that you woke up here again?

He's grateful that she listens and doesn't stop him. It might be easier later once it's more settled, once it's been told once, but right now to have his line of thought interrupted would make it harder to all get out. So he goes until the end, and waits for her to write. He lets her fingers touch his arm, no resistance, no discomfort.

A nod answers her question. "I think... that's it there. For me if no one else. I don't have a dreamself anymore. Jane's power can only be used once. The dream bubbles were being destroyed, and this happened far outside them, so no one else with life powers can come fix it--and even that would probably need me to not be burned to ashes in the lava."

The last bit comes out with difficulty, like forcing it through a tightening throat. He can still feel it: how hot it was, burning as he sunk in. It can't even be called cooking him alive. It was hotter and quicker, and though the death might have been swift, he's got another heavy reason to avoid sleep for a long time.

Oh. Oh, no. It seemed like a lot of the kids from Alternia generally were... accustomed to dying. Not to the actual pain of it, of course, but death tends to follow them from what Nill has seen, and though awful she can only be so surprised when she's told of another death. What she's not used to hearing is that this time would probably be the last.

She ducks her head a little more when she writes and blinks a few times, preemptively trying to make sure she doesn't start tearing up, and hopefully without Karkat noticing.

you think you're doomed?

He can't see her face from this angle, not really, and his own thoughts are caught up in what he's told her and what it means. Her question seems a natural extension, and he nods before he can muster an answer.

"I must be, or as good as. I don't have anything to go back to. I'd just end up in the dream bubbles with all the other ghosts." It feels unfair, and his heart tightens. There were so many people from so many offshoots, every effort of theirs rendered null and void because some part of it wasn't what Paradox Space needed to happen. "And everything was such a mess. Gamzee and Terezi trying to kill each other--and Kanaya coming after me with her lipstick. I don't know what would have happened to her, or what else was happening outside us."

Kanaya is strong. I'm sure she's okay.

Nill doesn't believe it quite as much as she'd like Karkat to think she does, but if nothing else, her opinion of Kanaya is high enough. It was just a matter of whether not anyone could have waked away from what happened, and Nill is not foolish enough to think the jade blood incapable of being defeated.

you might still be able to change it. you might not be doomed.

Karkat eyes her words and eyes her, and he doesn't believe her entirely. He wants to, he'd like to hope, but there's nothing to be done when he can't know the future.

He shakes his head with a tightened jaw at the next.

"No. Nill, my body burned up in lava, I have no extra lives in stock, and I've seen so many other pointless bastards roaming out there that if they couldn't undoom things, then neither can I. That's it for me there. I have what remains of the afterlife until either Lord English destroys it or the real team defeats him. That's it."

And it's not a happy thing to say or think, but he's not here for hoping about things he knows to be impossible. There's nothing else, nothing: it's either here or teen drama bubble swamp, and possible existential oblivion after that.

Edited 2015-05-26 23:35 (UTC)

It's certainly not what Nill wants to hear, or would ever want to hear, but maybe it's a good thing that Karkat is generally accepting of his apparent fate. There's no denial there, and in a place like Panem denial would probably be a dangerous thing eventually. (She still has no idea how Gary's still around.)

Not that there's much time to think on that. The mention of an afterlife makes her eyes go a little wide, and wider still at the idea of something destroying it. It was obvious that Lord English was powerful, but what kind of monster would need to exist to destroy what's supposed to be life after death? God?

The conversation isn't about her though, and she won't ask Karkat about the monstrosity she has imagined Lord English to be. She can't even reassure him of much because he already knows all his potential outcomes and almost none of them are good.

you could stay in Panem.
I'm not leaving either.

"I don't have a choice," he says, more roughly than he intended. "It's either go back and be pelted with my own irrelevance until my existence is wiped out entirely, or try to... to make something worthwhile here. This is all I have, Nill. I don't know how to make it clearer than that."

He knows she meant to be comforting, but it's just more of the same to his ears right now. Doomed, no hope, no chance. He wanted to help here anyway, to make something more of this world so that those in this place won't have to suffer so, but at least the nagging worry that he was an offshoot wasn't confirmed before now. Like this he has to face it head on, and he hates it. He always wanted to be the leader, and it's been stripped from him. Either he'll have to forge out another spot here, if the opportunity even presents itself, or give up as resign to background ally.

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