thecapitol | Living just for dying

Entry tags:

Living just for dying

Who| The Ψiioniic & Harley Quinn

69problems
What| Returning to the Capitol and catching up
Where| D9 common area; D12 Signless's room
When| 6-15
Warnings/Notes| Talking about his head being blasted by a wand, talk of mercy killing, talk of suicide, self-depreciation/self-blame for not being strong enough, language

Harley Quinn

He hadn't wanted to play their Games. He'd even scouted all possible means of escape his first few days here before inevitably being thrown into his first arena. Yet here he was in the D9 suite common area seeking out his Mentor and bemoaning his loss.

Psii had tried so hard to survive, blinded since escaping the chaos of the Cornucopia. He'd lasted just short of three weeks, mostly in the Catacombs subsisting on bats. That wasn't enough time to put the gifts he'd gotten to real use, he thought. He'd failed both his sponsors and the person he was trying to protect.

"I fucked up," he greeted her with no preamble, afraid he'd cluckbeast out. Everything tumbled out of his mouth in a hurry. "I wath trying to thave a friend, every goddamn thing wath trying to kill uth.... I'm thorry." The words themselves could have had bite, but his dejected voice deflated them.

Harley would understand, right? She'd told him she'd lost a friend in the arena, something Psii had just died trying to avoid. There was always a chance someone might not be brought back when they bit it.

Signless

He gave Signless's door his usual double-rap. When it opened, he cocked a finger and thumb to his own head in the shape of a gun, though a magic wand was what really did him in.

"Boom, headshot. Didn't feel a thing," he said in greeting.

A crude way to describe his demise yesterday, but Psii was in a callous mood. When he returned to the Capitol and his restored vision, he laid eyes on Celebrus and Signless's first kill.

Psii remembered bleeding out in the snow of last arena and asking Feferi not to cull him, to give him a bit of time to sort his thoughts. So many dying voices in his visions shrieked in surprise and begged for more time they didn't have. He didn't want to be one of those losers. He wanted to go when he was good and ready, in an act of self-sacrifice, if he could manage it. Maybe some other psychic like him would hear his last words and know he was a hero instead of some unlucky chump.

Surely there was an explanation for why Signless thought it was a good idea to brain him. Surely Signless had some comforting answer to offer with his skill with words.

"Why'd you cull me?"

Psii had gradually started calling Helmsman as himself, instead of stubbornly talking as if they were two completely different people. Psii offered Signless no hardy claps on the back, no friendly pranks or sentimental insults. Just that sentence hanging in the air like a raised spear.

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Harley looked up as soon as the door from his room opened. She'd been waiting for his return, the same way she tried to wait for all her tributes even if they didn't want to talk.

Lounging in an oversized armchair she was wearing a loose T-shirt with a squid on it and stretchy yoga shorts, but she sat up when he approached her.

"Hey there champ, it's OK." She rose to her feet and held her arms out.

"I know you're not too big on touching but...how about a hug?" She offered, her face soft with sympathy and sincerity that people rarely got from her directly.

He sighed. Even if she wanted to prank him, he was too tired to protest her and her awful (in his opinion) squid shirt. He walked between her arms and stood docilely enough. A moment later, he remembered that he should probably put his arms around her, if this was to be a proper hug. He sighed.

"Nothing'th OK. Only crazy people act like everything'th alright. I know you're more thane than that."

She'd talked to him of brainwashing overlords before. Maybe it took a bit of insanity to see things for what they were. The Capitol was full of sadists and megalomaniacs.

It was a gentle hug, her hand rubbing his back and her head resting against his.

"Denial is a perfectly natural thing, and sometimes it's useful, but it's good that you're honest with yourself and me. It's the fastest way to set things right."

Not that there ever could be a way of going back and making up for past mistakes.

"Wanna know a secret?" she sighed allowing herself to drift back a bit in her memories. "In my very first arena I got killed throwing myself at this massive hulking lump of a man to save the life of this girl I knew. She got away but died a week later anyway. And then two arenas later she died and never came back."

Leaning back from the hug she smiled apologetically.

"I used to think it was a waste, that if I had just let the jerk kill her maybe I'd have lasted longer in that first arena. Maybe I'd have even won it. But it doesn't really matter I don't think. Because the important thing is every time we make a choice to do something like that? It's like flipping the bird at the Capitol. Letting them know they can't always make us do what they want. We're still gonna look out for one another when we can and we're gonna protect those who are important to us instead of turning on them just for a chance to save ourselves."

Denial never did him any good; the terrible futures he saw always came to pass.

"I never thaid anything about giving the Capitol rude gethtureth," he said a bit too quickly. He was half afraid she'd say something more seditious and get them both in trouble. He knew they were both knee-deep in the rebellion, she didn't need to talk about it just to prove a point to him.

"I know you're right. We're more inclined to work together, even while rivalth, and it'th proven to be more effective among thothial thpethieth like trollth and humanth. There'th a reathon it feelth good to help otherth, even if it might theem dithadvantagouth at the time. You'd probably feel worthe about your friend if you didn't. I jutht wish my effortth hadn't rethulted in royally fucking up."

He had a problem, which was going out of his way to help anyone metaphorically or physically close to him. He didn't want to change that, however. Not helping his fellow slaves felt like regressing back to the dark times he was raised in.

She chuckled and shook her head "And that being the case, we're pretty much stuck. Either we abandon our morals and become stone cold killers like some of the tributes here, or we do what we think is right and hope that the rest of the crowd follows suit." After a minute she paused and then added "Or we get really reeeeeeeally lucky. Best I can do at this point is make sure you've got the tools you need. Mentally and literally." She winked.

Taking care of his mental health was something he wasn't used to. Even physical injuries were met with brusqueness in his wigglerhood. Only his lusus or a particularly fond moirail seemed to care. Dead in both cases. Psii met Signless and people like him after he escaped, but the scars were still there. His shoulders hunched as he stared at her, unsure of what he should say. Half the time he ran his mouth and got in trouble, and the other half he was terrified of saying the wrong thing. Heat crept into his face, now of all goddamn times.

"Do humanth have moirailth?" he asked uncertainly. "Do you--are you doing thith for everyone, like it'th a normal thing? w-with the hugging and helping...."

She giggled having picked up at least that word of Troll lingo.

"Well sure we do! But I'm just a naturally loving person. Affectionate, caring....most of the time. And what can I say kid I like you. You're honest but not too much of a straight shooter. I wouldn't call you a precious and pure cinnamon roll per-say, but definitely sweet. Maybe like a bagel with chocolate chips and some Nutella smeared on the inside."

Yes she is aware you probably won't get that but she doesn't seem to mind.

"And so far as I'm concerned, everyone deserves a hug now and then."

His blush lessened. Apparently this was normal human behavior and not some grand gesture specifically for him.

"N-nevermind, forget I athked."

He should feel happy she saved him the trouble of asking if she was paleflirting. Instead, he felt sort of deflated and lost—and also embarrassed that she already knew what his awkward question meant. Now he felt weird wanting to tell her that she had an uncanny ability of saying things that cheered him up, even if they were morbid. Cheering up Psii was a feat, but as she said, she did this for everyone.

"If I didn't have thome rough edgeth, then there'd be thomething inherently wrong with me—more than there ith already," he amended.

"Aw buddy." She drew him close and winked "I'm gonna let you in on a secret."

More closeness as she put her mouth near his ear "There's plenty wrong with all of us. But that's what makes us right." Drawing back she laughed.

"If everyone were perfect then you'd never get out of here, I'd have never won, and the Capitol wouldn't have to do Hunger Games. Real love wouldn't exist and neither would jokes, flirting, or any of those other extreme emotions. A perfect world is a boring world. And frankly I'd rather live in your crappy world then a boring world."

She was right, of course. The dichotomy of right and wrong was what made them human and troll. And, a world without flirting would be just awful. His mouth twitched into a hesitant smile.

"No need to worry. I think the world'th thuitably crappy ath long ath I'm in it."

Before he could cluckbeast out, he leaned forward and planted a swift kiss on her cheek.

And just like that, he'd turned the tables on her and she was blushing red as an apple. A burst of giggles and she could hardly let him get away with something like that!

"Oh you charming troll you~" She purred trying to seize his shirt and pull him in for a proper kiss. One that would linger because it had been far too long since she'd kissed anyone.

People had weird habits of grabbing his shirt and locking lips with him. At least this time he wasn't being romantically thrown to the ground, though the disorientation he felt right now may well be equal to that. He hadn't planned on getting concupiscent while asking someone about their conciliatory behavior. Humans sure were weird.

Her lips were that too-warm human temperature. Psii himself was a little cooler, though still on the warm side of the troll hemospectrum. He was rougher too, face littered with scars, not to mention a mess of fangs. He tried not to move, lest he catch her lip in a painful pinch, but then he remembered how fondly she talked about being strapped to a rocket by her kismesis. Sometimes she was more troll than a human should be, but that put him at ease, strangely enough. She understood several brands of crazy, and that was good to have in this gilded hellhole.

Psii should remember that he knew perfectly well how to tilt his head and kiss gently even with fangs. Remembering to be happy when good things happened to him was still a little harder. He cradled one of her hands in his own lightly calloused ones.

"I-I thought.... I, um, don't really know how humanth.... flirt. With one quadrant. And altho it'th been a while."

She laughed happily beaming at him once the kiss was broken and he was talking again "Well for someone who doesn't really know, you're not a bad kisser at least." She purred tracing her finger along his ear.

Then she let go of his shirt and sighed happily. "I needed that. Your timing is great." She wasn't exactly swooning anymore but she was caught up in the moment and he really was a sweet boy in his own way.

"Agh, that feelth weird," he complained about her tickling his ear and made a face. He stuck his tongue out at her like a completely two hundred percent mature adult. It was split, with two ends. He resisted the childish urge to bring out the big guns and waggle them independently.

"'Good timing,' more like perpetually having problemth and bothering other people about them like a lother. Ok, I'll file kithing under behaviorth that are definitely theen ath flirting among humanth. That'th true with trollth, too.

"But," he frowned, searching for the right words, "to me, to any troll, what you've been doing before could altho be flirting. Lithtening to my problemth and thtuff, like a moirail. That'th why I wath tho thurprithed when you kithed me. It wathn't the quadrant I exthpected—N-not that I didn't like it! It wath very nithe! Really!"

Smooth, Captor. Real smooth.

She listened looking understanding and then shrugged "I'm not really sure I get the whole quadrant thing, but if I've learned anything about humans and trolls it's that we may be raised a lot softer then you guys are, but in the end we can be as fierce and crazy as you guys, and you guys can be as soft and sweet as we can. So don't worry about it."

A playful wink goes here.

"Just do what feels good. If it doesn't work, try something else."

He liked the way she put it, that duality of emotions among both trolls and humans. She had such an easy way of explaining hard things, like the human lack of discernible quadrants. He couldn't say for sure what he wanted from her—he felt like he shouldn't be asking anything of her at all—and, similarly, she didn't seem to care about crossing quadrant lines either.

"I've alwayth been too worried about what I should be doing inthtead of what I want to be doing, tho much that I can't tell the differenthe thometimeth. That'th not really a problem for you, ith it?"

It was mostly a rhetorical question.

She laughs at the question, rhetorical as it may be.

"Not anymore it's not, but I wouldn't suggest you go through what I had to to shake of that particular problem." She sighed nostalgically.

"Back when I was a kiddo, and even up till I was a young woman I was exactly like that. I was focused and ambitious, I was always doing what I thought I needed to do to get ahead. Never took time to consider what else I might want or need. It was always just go, go, go! Gotta get to the top."

Her eyes twinkled knowingly and her smile seemed a little sad. "I can tell ya though when you rush to the top without taking the time for friends and family? It gets awful lonely up there. And THATS where I got in trouble."

Psii had been through enough shit already to agree that, yes, he'd rather not traumatize himself further. He wasn't ambitious like past her, either. He had never wanted much except for him and his friends to not be harassed because of blood color. And he had always prized his friendships, even slipped into being overprotective, because he lost too many people too soon.

"I thought you were trouble," he teased. "But go on."

She giggled and fluttered her eyelashes at the compliment.

"Well it's a tale as old as time really. A brilliant and driven young woman meets a damaged older man who can make her laugh. The Joker was as famous as he was dangerous. A homicidal whackjob who had walked all over any doctors who tried to work with him. But I knew better. I was positive I would be the one to take him apart and tell the world exactly what was wrong with him." Even talking about it now put some color in her cheeks.

"But he's smarter then people give him credit for, even I could tell that after the first time I met him. All the jokes, the prat falls and puns are a cover to hide how malicious and brilliant he is. While I was trying to understand him, he figured me out in half the time and got me to fall for him. I woulda done anything for that smile! Including dressin' up like a jester and throwing away my entire life to break him out of the asylum he was in." She offered a rueful smile as if she was talking about some childish indiscretion like stealing the cookie jar or scratching the paint on her parents car.

"Huh. On my planet, clownth are the oneth who throw people in the thlammer. Or kill them, more likely. The clown priethtth are the highetht land-dwelling cathtte. Bluebloodth might be the enfortherth, but the indigoth are the oneth giving the orderth."

To Psii, who was used to seeing clowns only in position of authority, her old kismesis (or whatever he was) seemed all the more dangerous for having to be locked up.

"Thith ith the thame perthon who thtrapped you to a rocket, right?" Then more quietly he muttered, "I'm glad he'th not here. That'th the latht thing thith plathe needth, a high-level clown who can play mind trickth. Did I ever tell you how I got thethe thcarth? It involveth clownth, trauma, and variouth painful implementth I'd rather not go into detail about."

"Yeesh, rough crowd. I mean it's one thing to have a captive audience but a cadaver audience isn't as much fun." She mused.

"Yeah it is, how many girls can say that's how they got dumped? I mean even if it didn't last." She nodded in agreement though. The Joker being in the Capitol wouldn't go well for anyone.

"Ooo well let's skil the painful details then and stick with what you're comfy with. I'd love to know!"

From the moment he'd seen those few choice sentences nestled almost unassumingly in among the rest of the Capitol dreck, Signless had known they'd be having this conversation the next time they spoke. He'd known there was only so long he could get away with lying by omission, but he'd wanted so badly to just have that whole awful part of his time in Panem behind him.

At the question his look of relief upon seeing Psii alive (and belligerent as ever) faded into a pensive frown.

"It's going to take a long time to explain. I probably owe you all those details anyway. Come in, sit down." He made his way over to his bed, not sitting on it but rather settling himself on the floor with his back against the side. As an afterthought he reached up to where his three tribbles were nesting on his pillow and pulled one (Tribble Will Smith) down into his lap. This was a conversation that was going to require tribbles.

"'Probably'?" He shut the door with a snap. Signless's delay, his qualifier, neither of these boded well. Psii let himself explode over the edge. "Both you and Initiate let me think that all you and Helmsman did wath avoid each other. I didn't realize that included culling."

He spat the word with as much derision he could muster. He always believed his friend thought better of him than some weakling who didn't deserve life. Perhaps if he was in a great deal of pain and was prepared to die.... but he didn't want to think about that. Again.

The cords of his shoulders tensed under his shirt. He badly wanted to go over to Signless's bed and hold the other two tribbles, but that required being near the troll sitting against it. He stared at his coo machines, unsure of what he wanted to do, then paced the room until he found himself glaring at a wall. His hate for his past self had lessened some, but his shadow kept haunting him.

"It wasn't as simple as culling," he says, staring very hard down at the tribble in his lap. It coos softly, and he'd like to think it's aware of how on-edge he is. He hates just thinking about this -- talking about it is worse.

"I first met the Helmsman in my very first arena, before I'd even seen the Capitol, before I truly understood what this place was or that people could come from radically different times and places. I thought it was you, emaciated and scarred and unable to even walk properly, but when I tried to help he barely even knew who I was except that he thoroughly rejected me and everything to do with me. He blamed me for his enslavement and his death and I can't fault him for that, not after he endured thousands of sweeps of torture.

"And then he met the Initiate, and they fell pale for each other, and it was good for him. The Initiate, an indigo, a clown, was able to help him mend his mind when I couldn't. I was so angry, a petty, jealous anger, because I'd lost my moirail because of a crime I didn't even remember committing and he'd found solace with someone else and didn't need me at all."

In a way it's as shameful to talk about this part of what happened as it is to talk about the parts that happened later. He'd acted like such a child, with so little regard for anyone's feelings but his own broken diamond and his martyr's need to be able to fix everyone. Even back then he knew it was selfish, and it makes him cringe to think of how he kept pushing anyway.

"Even when I tried to respect him and avoid him, he was there, they were there, and no matter what I tried I could never be rid of either of them. All I wanted was to be something to him again, you understand? Anything at all."

He pauses, finally looking up at Psii. He's hoping for some sign of understanding. He can't ever justify why he acted as he did, but he can at least explain it.

Initiate had told Psii how Helmsman didn't want to be reminded of the past with Signless. This was not news. However, it surprised Psii to know that Signless had been taken over by the kind of jealousy he'd expected more of from the clown. Psii had even feared Initiate would cull one of them just for being friends again.

"Oh yeah, like hith murderer," Psii cut in. "Nithe job, Vantas. But latht I checked, quadrantth don't cull each other."

He turned sharply, fangs clenched together. It occurred to him that he'd had his back to him, vulnerable. Instinct made him think these things, even of friends, but it hurt to know it had crossed his mind concerning someone he thought of as more than that.

"Don't even think about pulling that bullshit on me now," he hissed. "I won't roll over and let you do it. I'm not that troll anymore, and I won't be again. I'll choothe when I die."

It seemed a strange thing to say, for someone with inevitable visions of all sorts of untimely deaths. So many of them were a surprise to the trolls receiving them. But Psii had a habit of deliberately taking bullets for friends. Surely someday one of them would find its mark. If deaths in the arenas were real, then he'd already done it. His first involved sacrificing himself so Signless could get in the explosion-proof bunker. His second was when he got killed trying to hunt and draw water for an injured Sam Wilson and Initiate. And his third was trying to save Sam again during a confused clusterfuck of tracker jackers, bats, ghosts, bells, and some douchebag with a wand.

"He did choose," he said, and there was a strained note in his voice. "I asked him. I asked him, because he was dying and in so much pain and I thought if I couldn't help him any other way I could at least make it so he wouldn't have to bleed out and suffer for hours. I justified it to myself then because it was done out of compassion and I know that doesn't make it right. I promise, I know, and I know that it makes me a hypocrite who doesn't deserve to preach about peace and nonviolence when he broke his own vow just because he couldn't let go of someone who didn't want him. I know."

By the time he'd finished his voice was very small. So far he'd dealt with the self-hate he'd carried within himself for what he did by steadfastly ignoring it because he knew that if he didn't, he'd crumble. He'd sink back into that dark, frightening place he was in right after that arena and he could't afford that. He couldn't undo it but he couldn't let it invalidate the entire foundation of who he was, or what was left? A listless husk of a troll, waiting to die, convinced he shouldn't even have lived in the first place. He couldn't go back to that.

"After it happened I poisoned myself just to get out of the arena. I spent the next month at least hating myself and wishing they hadn't revived me at all. I don't think it's possible for me to regret what I did more than I already do." His throat felt so tight, like someone's hand was wrapped around it and squeezing.

"It isn't going to happen again."

Sometimes lowblood slaves would pray to Death's Handmaid for release, but Psii never got to see her answer them in his visions. He'd long stopped believing someone would come and end his suffering. He'd been weak regardless as the Helmsman, let his friend down. His nerves felt numb, the opposite of the rush of sensation when he released his psi, and he drifted over like a ghost. He sank down next to him, unsure if Signless wanted to be touched. He looked at the twining plants on his tattoos, supposed to symbolize his bonds with those closest to him.

"You were the one who taught me that life'th more than jutht waiting for it to end."

Psii's shoulders shook, and he wasn't sure if he was shaking in fury or sorrow. This drove home more than ever before that Signless had been through the thresher, and Psii could be perilously close to losing his friend to more than just arenas or rebel skirmishes.

"Don't think I don't know what it feelth like to lothe a friend, to want to die, to kill." His voice broke, "I'm tho tired of all that bullshit coming from every direction, including me. Not you, too...."

Signless did want to be touched, as it turned out. Enough so that when Psii knelt down near him he instinctively reached out and wrapped his arms around the other troll's skinny shoulders.

"No, no, please don't worry. I managed to pull myself out of that hole a long time ago and I've been very careful not to let myself fall back in." He knew telling the Psiioniic not to worry was like telling the sun not to shine, but he had to communicate somehow that this, at least, was one thing he was no longer in danger of. Never again. That was a vow he intended to keep.

"There are a lot of things I have to live for. You, for one."

"Right, and me not living wath part of why you went there in the firtht plathe. Pleathe don't tell me your thanity hingeth on me thtaying alive. I've got to die thometime, though I am thorry if I do it too thoon."

As if he could control that. They always expected Signless to die of old age first, being more warmblooded, but a troll's life was dangerous as well. Psii could very well get hit by a car or gunned down by a Peacekeeper first.

"I'm thorry I flipped out. You keep finding new wayth to drive me inthane." He wrapped long arms around his friend too, not caring how much he smothered him.

"You're not going to cull thomeone unleth they athk for it, and you're ethpethially not going to cull yourthelf when you could thtill do thome good in the world. I keep telling people there'th alwayth a chanthe they won't be revived after an arena death, but no one fucking lithtenth. Don't take that chanthe again or I'll find your body and pluck out every one of your thtupid fathe hairth, and you'll look even more like a tool at your human corpthe party."

He bent and nipped his jaw where his scruff grew, as if to assure him on his threat.

Without really thinking he turned his head and pressed a small, nipping kiss to the Psiioniic's jaw in return. It wasn't meant as anything beyond a simple expression of affection, but it felt like the right one just then. For some inexplicable reason this lanky banana meant a lot to him.

"I won't. Dying outside the arena doesn't guarantee a revival any more than dying inside it. As far as I'm concerned, this the only life I have now. I'm not going to waste it. Promise."

He tipped his head forward and rested his forehead on the Psiioniic's shoulder.

"Honestly, I thought you might take it worse than you did. If that was as much flipping out as you're going to do, we'll be fine."

"You know I burn hot and fatht. Being angry taketh too much energy, and when you pith me off ath much ath you do, I have to find retht thometime."

In truth it was more of Psii's mercurial swings at work, but he really didn't want to hand that to Signless on a platter. Signless had to work a little to get at him, and Psii preferred it that way. He anxiously ran a hand through Signless's hair, pulling the curls apart from themselves. Making his hair look stupid heartened Psii.

"Pluth there was the whole thing about you wanting to kill yourthelf. I'm not going to feel contentiouth when I'm talking about the pothibility of lothing you. The whole point of flipping out ith to have thomeone to flip out at. I can't show you my acrobatic pirouetteth off the handle if you're dead. That'th a real bulge killer."

Where Signless's kiss had been innocent affection, Psii couldn't resist talking crudely. It was part of his irrethithtible charm. Psii drew back to study his face, propping his elbow on the edge of the human slumber pad and resting his chin in his hand.

"If you wanted a longer argument, you should have gone with touching my electronicth without my permithion. That'th alwayth a thure-fire way to pith me off."

"Noted. Next time I want to get your bulge angry with me, I'll go and tie all your extension cords in a knot."

It could have been read as flirting. It could just as easily have been read simply as a joke, a challenge with no real meaning behind it beyond posturing. It was up the Psiioniic how seriously he chose to take it when Signless didn't know precisely how seriously he meant it.

"And stop messing with my hair. It's unruly enough as it is without you making it worse." He swatted at Psii's hands for emphasis.

"Don't you dare. I'll tie your bulge in a knot if you do," he automatically retorted before considering both his word and his life choices. He gave his hair a good ruffle anyway. Signless telling Psii not to do something petty just made him want to do it more.

"Trutht you to ruin what I wath trying to thay, ath." He lazily bapped back at Signless's hands. "You talked about how you wanted to throw your life away. Even if I wathn't your friend—or whatever we are—I'd thtill owe you, remember? Your wordth thaved my life."

He tried to get an opening so he could poke Signless in the chest. "You're more tenathiouth than you think. You're a regular pain in the ath, actually."

He gave Psii a weak half-smile. He could joke and flirt all he liked because it was easier, because it helped ease the hurt they both felt, but that hurt was still there and this was still primarily a serious conversation. He wasn't going to run from that.

"I did want to throw my life away, yes. I did in the arena and I thought about doing it permanently once I was revived. I never did and I never will. Do you know why? Because I have so many wonderful people who care for me, who support me exactly as you're doing now. Your words save my life every time you tell me you'll stay. You have to or who's going to tell me I'm a preachy asshole? It shows that you care. It gives me something to live for."

"You could lothe it all anyway. You care about too many people not to inflict thome collateral damage. Keep it thafe here." Psii shifted his finger to point at Signless's heart. "I could die or turn inthane tomorrow and not even recognize you, but keep me in there, and you'll never lothe me again."

The horror of being the Helmsman was never far from his mind, and consequently, the fear of being avoxed. He had the unique (ha) privilege of being able to see exactly how he'd turn out if he was brainwashed by an empire. The intensity of Psii's stare lost its effect when he sighed and looked down.

"I never believed in that bullshit before, but if anyone could pretherve thomeone in their pump, it'th you."

To Signless's credit he didn't really cry. A few reddish tears formed at the corners of his eyes but that was all. He was so exhausted, so grateful, so overloaded by everything that had happened in the past few days. So happy that he had this stupid gangly noodle by his side and in his bloodpusher.

"I will. I promise I will."

Edited 2015-12-07 01:52 (UTC)

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Living just for dying

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cw suicide/suicidal ideation

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aaaand I'd say we can call this done! CONGRAT