thecapitol | The Binding of Isaac

Entry tags:

The Binding of Isaac

Who| All those who signed up for the plot!
What| Capitol rebels attempt a break in and dismantling of dangerous weaponry.
Where| In a warehouse just beyond the very end of the cityline
When| Some time following Arena 13
WARNINGS| Please specify warnings in tag headers.
NOTES | Remember that if you did not sign up, it will be assumed you are not participating in the plot. Plotting can be found here! IC plotting is here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh, yeah, how could I forget? You're the Top Ninja." Jet's smile broadened. 'Laughsassin' was still a really weird name for the connotation attached to it. But, then, there was plenty in Initiate's culture Jet figured he'd probably never 'get' unless he saw it for himself.

"Tiger. Tabby's like...a smaller version, it's just a stripey housecat. Tiger's are majestic and lethal and strong." Which, actually, wasn't why he'd chosen it, just some observations he'd made thanks to the little lady who was the real reason.

"Back before this place, I took care of a little tiger cub for a while. Her original caretaker had died and the guy who was supposed to be next to take her wasn't around, so I took her. Her name was Jojo -Joanna- and she was all of those things for barely being knee-high. Pretty sure she was sentient cause she helped me back when I thought Albert had died there. I miss her, but I'm glad she's not here." He turned a curious look on Initiate. "Did you ever have a pet? Is that a thing troll's do?"

"Das right," He answers, partially joking, partially entirely serious in his pride for it. He knows he shouldn't be proud of his time as a laughsassin and subjugglator, but fuck, he worked hard honing them skills and he'd been damn good at it all. Sometimes he just couldn't help it.

He nods along seriously with the explanation, another human thing to be learned on and to remember. Since he was going to be living with them for a lot longer and all, ideally.

"Uh, no, it ain't actually. I GOT FOR SOME HERE, BEING THEM FOR TRIBBLES WHAT IS MINE, BUT TROLLS, WE GOT A SORT OF DIFFERENT WAYS OF THINGS," He starts. Pauses. Then takes a deep breath. "We got things as what is called lusii. YOU HUMANS GET ON RAISING EACH OTHER, BUT WE TROLLS DON'T. We hatch, try and survive at our trials, make it out of the caverns. YOU GET OUT THERE THE FIRST TIME AND THEY'S ALL JUST WAITING..." He remembers it all. The wonder, the horror. Great white beats looming over beautiful in the light of the green and pink moon. You knew something was going to happen but you never knew if it was getting eaten or... "Each lusus gets its match at to a troll. BY BLOOD AND HATCH SYMBOL AND ALL OF THAT. You see 'em and they get gander on you and you both just know you belong to each other."

He breathes real deep. His Da is dead. He knows that now. He wishes shit wasn't so tangled up still that he couldn't just mourn or move on or something. Though in another sense, he's moved on more now than he's ever dared hope to.

"MY DA WAS A SEABEAST. A capricorn, as what my hatch symbol is. ALL OF SEA AND GOATS IS ME. He was supposed to be my guardian, but as like I said, didn't really happen, mostly all by his being at sea. RAISED MY OWNSELF AS WAS MY WORDS." He admits, "They brought him hereways for a bit. HE WAS JUST AS SHITTY AS ALL HE EVER WAS. Wanting to leave. WANTING TO EAT ALL EVERYBODY. Was actually going to cull him further on by my time. BUT SOMETHING CHANGED. I don't know what all happened but, just before as they took him and the rest of our families as what they called us... HE SHOWED SOME NICETY. All got his greeting goatlike on at me." One last final headbutt, his Da's head bigger than all of him. He'd tangled his hands up in that wet fur. He can still feel it. "HATED HIM I DID. But I guess I still cared too much anyway. HE'D NEVER SAID GOODBYE BEFORE..."

He huffs, makes a noise and shakes himself out. Then he's going to rub at his neck. "So, naw, Trolls got on a whole other sort of business as to be had with our beasts. THE TRIBBLES IS CHILL THOUGH. I like them."

He listened intently to the explanation, fascinated by the differences in their cultures while also a little weirded out by them. But that stuff about Initiate's dad...it rang a little too close to home and Jet was completely quiet while he listened.

Jet's dad had shown up during that time as well and he'd been just as shitty as Jet had remembered. He'd been drunk as often as he could be and he'd been just as ready to dole out a punch to his 'worthless son' that first night when he and Jet had gotten into a shouting match over dinner.

It hadn't gotten any better while the damn drunkard had been there, and the very last Jet saw of him had been the night the Exposé about Albert had aired. It had outed them as a couple on television what with the proposal on the roof shown in detail. And, of course, Jet's dad had seen and that 60's mindset that had caused Jet and Albert to be so secretive initially reared it's ugly head. Ciro had punched Jet so hard his ears rang and there still wasn't a doubt in his mind that his old man would have killed him there in the hallway if it hadn't been for Albert socking the older Italian man to make the fight stop.

There hadn't been a nice good-bye with Ciro...but Jet's mother had told him she loved him, even after finding out the truth about Jet. And he'd given her the same, despite how absent she'd been. That had been something, at least.

Initiate's head was too far up for Jet to rest his hand on it like he'd done with Jimmy all those decades ago -a show of understanding and sympathetic compassion as best as he could give then- but he could reach Initiate's knee and that was where he rested his hand to try and give the same meaning now.

"Yeah, tribbles are alright. Kinda funny with how they're just balls of fuzz, but they're nice to be around."

Sometimes he wished his Da had never been kind. He wished the motherfucker just tried to cull him sometimes because at least then, surely then he wouldn't miss him. That had always been the worst part. The temper never bothered him, the disdain and distance.

It was the way he came back. It was the way his hopes would soar high and he'd nest up in that fur and scale and the only thing keeping him from begging the old goat to stay was not wanting to scare him off. He wished the goat had never cared. He wished he hadn't needed the goat so bad. That way, when he left inevitable, when he stood by and watched as the shit got kicked out of him, it wouldn't have torn him up so damn bad as it always fucking did.

Part of him still wishes that now, that he could stay angry at the goat because all the pain came back to him and being his motherfucking fault. It didn't seem fair how fucked up it made him-- from his scars all over his body with strife, to the way he'd been always so certain everyone was going to leave and betray him-- while the goat had none of it. But the idea of not having had that goodbye hurts worse. It was closure, not perfect, but something. He wonders if maybe, like how he'd been destined for terrible things back home, if the old goat wasn't just playing a role too. He always was smarter than he'd seemed, but he'd never know for sure.

He feels Jet's hand on his knee and somehow that compounds it all. His eyes squeeze shut for a minute as his gut churns. He'd already mourned that stupid old goat. He didn't need to do this again, especially not now. That surge passes sure enough though and the hand becomes exactly the comfort it was meant to be. He leans a little bit more against Jet's side. Then, slowly, he goes all to reach on for Jet's hand, putting his fingers close by enough to touch. He doesn't miss the sense that Jet understands. It's nice, having that, even if it hurts to think his friends feeling the same.

He smiles a little with swallowing. "'S THE COOING," He says. "All soothing and nice. ALWAYS SO DAMN PLEASED WITH THEMSELVES THE LITTLE CHUCKLEFUCKS. Can make nest of 'em all soft. SHOULD FIND YOU ONE OF THEM STRIPEY ONES SOMETIME. Sure there's being one around someways what with the damn infestationals."

There's a pause where Jet's afraid the message was missed, but then Initiate's fingers are close enough for Jet to reach out give that little bit of extra contact they could probably both use.

He didn't know why, but the idea of the tribbles being pleased with themselves made Jet laugh.

"Yeah, I bet laying in them would be nice. I guess, if you found one like that, I certainly wouldn't mind it. I've actually been keeping the one I gave Al around. Found it stashed in the closet once I bothered to look around." It was a good thing they pretty much just existed, so it'd never been in any danger of neglect. "The thing's been pretty useful." Mostly with sleeping. When the one light on still seemed not bright enough and the quiet threatened to suffocate him like always, the gentle purring of the silver tribble was a comfort and Jet found he could sleep well enough to get through the night.

"CONSIDER IT TO BEING MOTHERFUCKING DONE," He says. "Finding you a tiger tribble, yo. FIRST THING WHEN AT WE'S GETTING BACK, AIGHT? If I can't find I'll go out to purchase personal. BEEN MEANING TO MEET ON WITH SISTER PASHA A WHILE NOW ANYWAYS." He doesn't question usefulness. Hearing that soothing trill was always nice. That, and he remembers the Helmsman and his mountain of tribbles, all made a pile on out of them. Strangest and yet most soothing pile ever.

"I got four my ownself. NICE INDIGO AND BLACK ONE WHAT'S ALL POLKA-DOTTED NICE. Named it parabell. OTHERS WAS ALL AVERAGELIKE. Tregetour, Carousel, and Eli." He speaks fond of them. He seems not at all embarrassed by this. In fact, the more he focuses on that, the more he can leave that old ache behind again.

That and having a brother to hold on to.

"'Tregetour?' What's that mean?" Didn't sound 'average' to him, not like 'carousel' and 'Eli' the former was at least a word he recognized.

He considered what he might name this tiger-stripped tribble, if Initiate were able to find it after all. He could name it Jojo, sure, but that seemed wrong since it was nothing like the little tiger cub. But, then again, he didn't really know any other tigers. Maybe he'd call it 'Lady' or 'Q' or even 'Bones' after Jojo's original caretaker. That last one might be a bit weird...

"Where'd the tribbles come from, anyway? They seem like something the Capitol would cook up, but I don't see them around enough to be a Capitol thing."

Perhaps the names were less than average, but he couldn't give poor names to his un-polka-dotted and plain brown tribbles simply because they were so. He says, "MEANS ALL THE FUCK UP OF JUGGLER MAGICIANS. A motherfucker of the carnival, for true."

Now he almost wishes he brought his. It would've been nice to have them around, even if maybe a little inconvenient.

He chuckles at the question, shaking his head. "THEY WAS, ACTUALLY," He begins. "A sister from so long the fuck ago as was capitol born, Pasha. HAD A SHOP, AS FOR HER OWNING. All sorts of things up in and Tribbles was being one. GOT REAL POPULAR, THEY. Especially with my kind, for some motherfucking reasonings. MY OLD MOIRAIL, THE HELMSMAN, HE'D GET ON FEEDING THEM THOUGH. Shit got so out of hand I think she had to take on off for her saving face. FUCKING INFESTED WAS THE GODDAMN TOWER, LET ME TELL. Helmsman ain't around no more but sometimes his tribbles pop on up. ESPECIALLY WHAT WITH THE PSIIONIIC TAKEN ON THE SAMELIKE."

He speaks terribly fond, even if some of the nostalgia has on a sadness.

His hand tightens a bit around Initiate's when he hears how his friend's tone shifts. It wasn't a sad memory, necessarily, but it wasn't a happy one too and sometimes those were the hardest to think of.

"Got it. Guess that makes sense why we're not supposed to feed them." Something occurred to him and his face lit up for a moment as the memory hit him. "I think that's what happened to Al, actually. Terezi stashed a few tribbles in his room during the curfew to prank him and I guess they got into his dumb stash of gummy bears and multiplied. That's why they buried him when they fell out."

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped at the memory. He and Terezi had practically died laughing in the hall as Albert tried to unbury himself from the trilling mass of fur that kept tripping him. It had been hysterical, even if it had thrown off other plans the two cyborgs had in mind for the night.

"Served him right, gummy bears are gross."

It was unfair in that way, how the happy could turn sad with just a little bit of loss up ins. He wishes it wasn't so. But he appreciates the memory all the same, just as he does that little bit of reassurance as Jet brings him.

He remembers preparing for battle in the subjugglators. There was a thrill there, sure. He could even say, at the time, he had fun as for going out into the fray and playing them sick songs what so earned his namesake of brutality. But there was never any good to come back to. This time there would be.

He lights up at Jet's story. He can just imagine the prank played-- damn sister should've recruited him on, he would've gone all about that noise. He can imagine Albert's face as the tribbles burst forth in a cooing wave. He laughs loud.

"I am truly motherfucking sorry to have gone up missing that noise," He says, wiping away a tear as ain't there. "GONNA MAKE ON DISAGREEMENTS OTHERWISE, YO. Gummies is great." He squeezes Jet's hand back.

He scoffed and shook his head. "You can have 'em, I'll take chocolate any day. 'Specially milk chocolate." He didn't really care about them one way or the other, they'd been a bigger deal with Albert trying to hide them from him, not cause he thought Jet would take them but because he didn't want to admit he'd missed them. Admittedly, Jet had given him a bit of a hard time about it when he found out.

His expression turned serene even as his stomach twisted at the reminder of what Sam had told him not long before. Albert might still be alive, those happy memories might not be as bittersweet as Jet had thought. But it wasn't confirmation, Jet trusted Sam but he also trusted his own two eyes and he couldn't let the possibility get his hopes too high.

But at least there was now hope to be had.

"How long've we got till we fly the coup?"

"FUUUUUCK, IF THAT AIN'T SOUNDING LIKE SOME MIRACLES RIGHT NOW," He drawls. Sweets. Goddamn he loved sweets. Was one of the best things about this place, all the fish he didn't have to catch, all the sweetness he didn't have to barter for. Chocolate and gummies and crickets by the motherfucking bag. So damn good.

When he gets back. Mirth, there were so many things now going on that last of When returns is the haps. It just kept growing and growing and he wonders to himself why he didn't do it all sooner. He wonders if he should give up having a list at all.

Because it's things like that question that erase the youth from his expression and pull back on his sweeps. It builds up the subjugglator all over again and there's nothing he can, or should do to fight it.

They need a leader, he reminds himself. Very seriously he says, "Shouldn't be long now. MUCH LONGER AND WE'LL LOST AT ON OUR TIME. Ain't got no intention for doing that."

He felt bad for asking, for breaking the mood, but it was bound to be broken soon anyway. This was still a mission, after all.

He nodded his understanding and gave Initiate's hand another squeeze. He had Jet's support to the end of time, even when things had to go from candy and tribbles to war and espionage.

"Good." He didn't necessarily want everyone he cared about in danger, but the sooner things got rolling, the less antsy he'd feel.

He squeezes back once more, the starts to pull away. First to let go.

Back on Alternia, the only ones he had proper trust and faith in were the Messiahs. Only they could give him what he wanted. Only they would fail to betray. Sometimes he thinks he may have driven himself made with voodoo on purpose as a beacon call to them, just to hear their voices in his thinkpan. But Messiahs had a universe and all time to look on after. He was just one troll.

Finally, here, he's got his family. He could outlive the whole of this war, but he couldn't do it without them. He was fighting for them. Or so help him, he would find a means of saving them. Including Jet.

He rises up, giving one glance back, a small thankful smile playing at the corner of his lips, even as he's put on the subjugglator's face. "SHOULD BE GETTING TO THEM. Gotta get about announcing our going. I'LL CATCH ON UP WITH YOU WHEN AT WE GET TO MOVE, AY?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Binding of Isaac

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject