I’m the reason you’re guilty, I’m the other man’s arms

[carnagecarnival]

Who| Initiate + Signless & Psiioniic
What| A clown has enough and forces some reconciliation. This can't possibly go wrong.
Where| Psii's room. 
When| Just after Initiate's Daywalker self is killed in arena. 
WARNINGS| Language. 

He didn't rush in immediately. He took the time to mull it over. Really. But ultimately, it all led to the same damn thing. 

There little trio of misfortunate needed fucking sorting. He wasn't going to play ash, it didn't even call for ash. But they did need something, and it was something no paps by his hand were going to bring. Perhaps that in itself was indicative of the way this situation was and was meant at to motherfucking go. 

He's already heavy with dread regarding the Psiioniic. All this would be is a new breed of it. Just maybe one he could fucking learn to deal with betterlike. But first, those two had to be dealing by their own. 

And so, he grabs Signless, saying, "YOU'RE COMING AT WITH ME." And no more than that. He'd drag Signless if he had to. He'd pick the little brick of a troll up and carry him if it required. They were doing this. He was making this shit motherfucking happen. 

Right up to the Psiioniic's door he goes, and miracles that, the doors open a bit already. Perfect. He throws the Signless in, shuts the door behind, and leans up against it. 

"I'm done. I'M MOTHERFUCKING DONE WITH THIS, YOU GETTING ME?" He calls through the door. "You two are sorting this. YOU'RE GOING TO GET YOUR MOTHERFUCKING TALK ON. And I ain't moving until something's getting met." Now he's the bad guy. As it should be.

Comments

[69problems]

Signless looks between them, the Psiioniic all prickly and on-edge, the Initiate cowed and resigned, and frowns. He's getting the increasingly clear impression that if anyone needs to talk to anyone else it's the two trolls in front of him, but he knows better than to push for that. This whole thing has already made it clear that just trying to force two people to talk something out won't get the results one wants.

He stands as well, placing a bracing hand on the Psiioniic's back for just a moment. He isn't sure that a longer touch would be welcome with that confusing sideways tumble into blackrom still hanging over them.

"I think," he ventures carefully, "that it might help if you both agreed on a mutual truce of some kind. I'm not going to facilitate that, because it isn't my place to play ash for you two, but there must be some arrangement that you'll both be happy with."

[biiowiired]

"I'm thure Kankri didn't want you to jutht be left there, you fucking nookbiter! But take that up with him thomewhere that ithn't my rethpiteblock."

This was going nowhere. Turning his glare to Signless seemed a better course of action, though this troll was also two steps from driving him over a cliff, spinning and screaming as he executed diving flips off the handle. His lip curled.

"I'm not interethted in touching any quadrant with him, and I think he'll agree. I'm not interethted in being hith enemy either. He wantth to do hith goddamned betht to thtay away from me, and tho do I. It'th when he thteamrollerth over my moralth that I—"

Why did he care what a clown thought about his morals anyway? And why did he ever think that a clown would respect his wishes? Psii bristled, trapped in a conundrum he wanted no part of. For all he cared, the clown could go fuck himself regarding Psii's ideals. But Psii also didn't want to live with himself if he actually did leave someone to die.

"Fine! I thtay away from you, and you thtay the fuck away from me! You can thtart by getting the hell out of my block!"

He didn't wait for Initiate to comply. He had an overwhelming need to abscond in a huff, but he didn't want to try sidling past the clown. He he stomped over to his closet, stepped squarely inside, and slammed it shut.

[carnagecarnival]

Closest door slams. His first reaction is to start, old Avoxing bits keeping him jumpy. The next is to make a strangled noise of frustration, hands going up and claws dragging through his hair until they get on close toward his face-- the old Alternian rage struggling not to rear up.

And then finally comes the exhaustion, the middle ground between the two like the drop in a canyon, the fissure born of the two sides having once been forced together despite their resistance.

He wishes he hadn't bothered. He doesn't know why he thought he could fix anything. He guesses it's just his turn to make stupid decisions about ex-moirails.

"AIGHT, I'M GOING," He says. He shoots Signless a brief glance. "Sorry, Kankri."

aaand this is just about done?

[69problems]

Signless looks at the closed closet door with his mouth compressed to thin, dark line. Fine. Mituna sometimes needs to throw a tantrum before he feels better about something. He can have his closet and maybe in a day or two he'll get his horns out of his own ass and they'll make real progress.

He closes the distance between himself and his moirail, catches his hand, gives it a squeeze.

"You meant well," he says softly. "I know you did. It was a good effort."