thecapitol | The rat in your brain turns the wheel connected to your guts

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The rat in your brain turns the wheel connected to your guts

Who| Initiate and Psiioniic
What| Moirails reunite after murderparty deluxe
Where| D2 Commons, The Psiioniic's room
When| A week-ish after murderparty, after Katniss kills Initiate and he returns
Warnings/Notes| Initiate, who is the worst. Talk of death, murders, awful and etc. Language.

He waits for the Elevator to trudge along with a breathless, painful sort of hollowness. It's familiar and at the same time he's felt nothing like this ever before. He can't even think to be angry at his killer right now. Not yet anyway. He is under the surface of some ocean he has no name for.

His hands haven't stopped shaking since he woke. The golden chain necklace is held so tightly in one, just short of crushing it. He'd woke up, with his eye back, his face healed, arms healed, every stab and arrow wound healed, his hair grown long down his back again. Everything like it'd never happened, but by some motherfucking miracle, the goat necklace, Mituna's tribute token, had remained woven around his own.

The doors open up and he steps onto the second district floor. He's been here plenty of times before, but with what happened in the arena, the stares could easily have been renewed. If they have he doesn't notice them. He forces himself down the hall, to Mituna's room, feeling both like he can't move fast enough and like he's going to fast altogether.

He really doesn't breathe as he opens the door. Any minute now that undertow is going to take him away.

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He hasn't been back for very long - and that's not a fact that surprises him. He knows that he was in poor shape, but...Did that truly matter? He was like he had been before, like he had been for centuries. He could see his bones through his papery skin, and the marks left from his Helmsman post were as clear as they could be without the wires there. He felt weak and cold and like he was just a breath away from death, but he was alive again.

He spent most of his time, all of his time, in his room, watching the proceedings in the Arena, still. He wasn't surprised at the recap of his death, or by watching the aftermath. Of course that would be televised and repeated over and over again, and no matter how sick to his stomach he felt he could never look away.

He looks up when Kurloz enters the room, and for the first time since his final moments and resuscitation, he smiles. It's a small, sad smile, but most of all it is relieved. He shouldn't have worried he would leave, but seeing him there, across the room, soothes him more than he thought he would. "I...wath wondering when you would come back." And for the first time, he was actually sure someone would come back for him.

He's here. He's... he's still here. Mituna. He was allowed to keep him. He wasn't taken away, he isn't gone. Messiahs forgave him.

His face twists and he feels raw and bare as if he were without paint. And then he's moving. He rushes forward and drops to his knees before him. His arms wrap around tight, the chain bumping against Mituna's back. He buries his face into the other troll.

The words don't come easy, but once they do, they slip out in a rush,"I'M SORRY, I'm sorry, FORGIVE ME of my sin, I should've found you sooner, MOTHERFUCKER YOU SHOULD NEVER ALL HAVE BEEN HURT, I'm sorry."

He raises his hands slowly, and for a moment he's at a loss. He forgets, sometimes, how young that his Kurloz is, and it's with a small, sad smile that he brushes his fingers through his hair.

"It'th okay, Kurloth." He leans forward, pressing a kiss to the base of his horns, and nudging at his head so he can place kisses to his temple, his forehead, his nose. "I know you would have thaved me, tho don't feel guilty for being too far away thith time."

He wishes, for a moment, that he were small, that he wore his real age better. He could climb up into his moirail's arms and fit there properly. But he's okay with feeling his fingers run through his hair, sending shivers. Even if he can't bring up the expression or noise for it, he loves every kiss. He leans forward, gently knocking his forehead against Mituna's.

He brings his hand around to bring up the necklace between them. "I TOOK IT," He says. "Didn't want to risk..." you not coming back and leaving with nothing to hang on to. He sighs where he doesn't speak the words. Kurloz holds it up, offering to clasp it back on to him.

He lets his head rest against Kurloz's, cupping the younger troll's cheeks. There's not much else he feels he can do, his body still weak and fragile from being brought back. (He wonders if he should tell Kurloz how that wears on him, how being brought back and being forced to regain his strength is getting even more tiring the third time around.)

He tilts his head back, baring his neck so that Kurloz can place the necklace on him. It...makes his blood-pushes flutter, to see that he would hold onto a small token for him. "I wath wondering where that went..."

The chain goes back on to being part of Mituna's bony frame, hanging from his neck. He leaves his arms to rest on his moirail's shoulders, bringing one hand up to hold the back of his head.

He looks sadly at Mituna. All the work he'd done, all their training; they'll have to start over, he knows, no matter how well he was able to accommodate the muscle all worn away last time. He pities this troll so much.

"BROTHER," He starts. "YOU LOOK ALL LIKE SO MUCH MOTHERFUCKING SHIT." A smile almost cracks across his face, but ends up turning out more of a frown so he gives up trying with it and instead presses a kiss to Mituna's forehead. "All gonna be like to making this motherfucking right. A BROTHER CAN DO BETTER THIS TIME. He'll order more all of that honey toast what all you like. OR ANYTHING ELSE. Can get start up on... ablutions... WE CAN MAKE TO WORK OUT EVERY MOTHERFUCKING THING. You won't hold for no hurts what can be helped."

He leans forward, twists, knocking his horns against Kurloz's, before scooting back. He reaches for Kurloz's hand, trying to make sure he comes with him. He just...He just wants, for this moment, just to be near his moirail. He doesn't want to move from the rest platform just yet.

He snorts. "Thankth. I kind of figured I did." He brushes his fingers through Kurloz's hair again, glad that his stylist's have been doing their best to get the knots out of his hair. He's also glad it's long again, because Kurloz looks more like Kurloz like this, and less like a young, lost troll who doesn't know what they're doing. He wonders if it's strange that the more the troll looks like who he'll be in the future, the more familiar he is to the Psiioniic. "I jutht want to pile for a little while. Ith...that okay?"

His lips twitch up when their horns knock, higher when Mituna grabs his hand. It's the laugh at his obvious point that brings it there to stay. Purrs erupt under the work Mituna's fingers. He knows most trolls aren't so... vocal with the stranger sounds as he. He's glad Mituna doesn't mind.

"YES," He says, laughing a little. "Of course it all is." How could he even say no he wonders. He climbs up off the floor, off his knees, and up onto the rest platform, shuffling on over to the pile. Out to Mituna he reaches, until the other troll joins him.

"DO YOU WANT TO TALK?" He asks. "About... what all happened?"

He can't hold back his grin either, nestling against Kurloz's side. He feels like this is the best place for him - he feels protected and safe, and the cold solidity of Kurloz is more comforting than this rest platform could ever be.

His smile drops at Kurloz's question, and he reaches for his hands, squeezing. Trying to hold onto him like a lifeline he so desperately needs. "I...Yes. I thaw what happened to you...after I wath gone." He bites his lip, and it's so much harder to talk about dying than he ever thought it could be. "I wanted you to be there, you know. When I wath...bleeding out."

"I BELIEVE YOU," He says, and he does. Even though he hasn't seen the footage, he trusts this troll. More than anyone. "I'm sorry I wasn't. I SHOULD'VE BEEN. If for nothing else. IF FOR NO OTHER MOTHERFUCKING THING."

He holds onto Mituna's hand, squeezing gently back, but careful, always careful with him so as not break him. He's angry that he wasn't there. He was angry at the Signless for so many things, he did what he did for so many reasons more than the death of a moirail, but it doesn't change how he feels Mituna was robbed and he himself with it. He's so angry at himself.

"Was afraid... you might not... HE DON'T GET TO KEEP PEOPLE NORMAL. He thought they wouldn't all let him keep you."

He reaches up, brushing his hand over Kurloz's cheek. He's smearing the paint, and he knows this, but he wants to calm him, to soothe him. To get him to understand that he doesn't hold the fact that Kurloz wasn't there in his final moments against him. He knows, now, that this is a troll who would topple the world for him, and he hates seeing him feel guilty or angry at himself.

He shooshes him quietly, the sound whistling through his teeth. "You'll alwayth have me, even if I'm not phythically there. You can't lothe me that eathily."

His paint is being smeared and he doesn't even care. He doesn't mind. That's something... miraculous. He lifts Mituna's other hand and presses his lips to the back of it. His moirail shushes him and he sighs in one long slow breath.

"IT'S BETTER... WHEN YOU ARE," He says. "I feel better... THERE AIN'T NO HOLES CALLING. There ain't no noise. I LIKE HAVING A BROTHER CLOSE."

But, what he says matters too. There's so much he could parse from that.Even if the idea of his going hurts. The idea that he needs this troll that much is terrifying.

He confesses then, "You got at yourself more gratitude from he than what all he's sure he can give."

He nods slowly, staying silent. Speaking now could ruin this moment, and he's too shocked to say anything. He knows how broken the Initiate is, and he knows how much worse it will be by the time he's sentencing the Signless to death.

It pains him, it makes his bloodpusher ache so deeply, that their moments here won't change the course of the future. Anything he does won't help the Initiate. He can't fix him or soothe his soul, and it hurts that he's a failure of a moirail.

"You don't need to give me anything." He smiles, raising their hands to press his own kiss to the Initiate's hand. "All I need ith you here and thafe and happy."

If he knew what the Helmsman was thinking, he'd have more than just a simple word or two to say about it all. But the Initiate is no mind reader. If he had his power he could sense the fear beneath, maybe place the whys, feel out the worst of it. But direct and exact thoughts are beyond even the strongest of chucklvoodoo.

As it is, he smiles back. "I WANT TO," He says. "I want you to have every last bit of this brother's diamond. I WANT FOR A MOTHERFUCKER TO HAVE FOR EVERY LITTLE BIT OF MOTHERFUCKING HAPPINESS WHAT ALL CAN BE SPARED FOR THEE. I want to give you everything you could up and want for. GET OUR EXCHANGE UP AND MUTUALLIKE WE CAN. I already feel at to be the things that you want for. MORE THAN ANY PLACE ELSE HE HAS FELT THIS."

At least he's gotten good at hiding his emotions. He's so...volatile, so unstable, that he himself can't even fathom just how deep this fear and self-loathing runs.

And with the way Kurloz looks at him, he can push it aside and pretend that everything is okay, because...for the first time it feels like it will be, even if he is a failure.

He huffs a breathy laugh, flicking Kurloz's nose. "I don't want anything. I don't need any gemth or jewelth." He smiles, scooting even closer. He's practically laying on top of Kurloz, but...The cool solidity of his body is more comfortable than his rest platform ever could be. "All I need ith you. Your diamond ith everything I could ever need in a plathe like thith."

He blurts a "Honk!" when Mituna flicks him and he pulls back to shake his head. He blinks and then grins wide, moving fast to plant a kiss right between the other troll's eyes, up on the bridge of his nose. He bumps his forehead down against the Helmsman's and keeps his arms wrapped around.

"And you called him a motherfucking romantic," He teases. "IT IS YOURS, HE SWEARS IT TO A BROTHER. Paint it gold. LET A BROTHER'S NAME BE CARVED THE FUCK IN. All it and more. WHATEVER YOU WANT OR NEED, HE WILL FIND. Whatever all you fear, you can tell him. AIGHT, BROTHER?"

He can't hold back his giggles at the honk, and his face scrunches up at the kiss. He nudges his head up, smooshing their noses togeter.

"You're definitely a motherfucking romantic," he mumbles, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of yellow. "I don't know how I'm worthy of thomeone like you at all." He doesn't deserve anything like this. "And you know you can athk the thame of me, right?"

He just keeps grinning and snickering. With more of the occasional honks. His smile only flickers to a slight frown when his moirail mentions worth.

"Of course he'd share with he," He starts. "BUT WHY WOULDN'T YOU BE WORTHY, BROTHER? You're a brave troll. YOU'RE INTELLIGENT AND YOU'RE LEARNING TO FIGHT AND BE STRONG IN OTHER WAYS WHAT ALL YOU ARE. You're good. YOU'RE BETTER THAN ANY TROLL HERE, BY LEAGUES." He cups Mituna's face. "Why would a brother ever think otherwise?"

He done fucked up.

Mituna goes silent, and he just...looks away. His blood-pushes aches, and he can feel his eyes stinging. He doesn't deserve the Initiate. He's an idiot, a moron, a weak, terrible, pathetic excuse for a troll, and Kurloz should know that. How can he think he's so much better than he is? Doesn't Kurloz realize that he could find a troll who's so much better? One who's not broken and falling apart at the seams?

He doesn't notice he's crying, but fat, yellow tears are rolling down his cheeks, and he can feel himself trembling. "I...I'm thorry."

His expression falls ever more when it's clear Mituna's not watching him. He thought he'd been getting better at this all, but maybe not. Definitely not. Mituna starts to cry and his guts fall out with any remainder of the smile. In it's place is horror and pity. His pusher just up and shatters at the apology.

"BROTHER, NO," He says, quick. "You ain't got a damn thing what all to be saying that for, motherfucker, not a damn motherfucking thing."

His arms wraps around his moirail to bring him close, hand cradling the back of his head, and he tries, this time, to shush him properly. The way Mituna can do for him. Just a soft whistling through too-big teeth. The way the shore would sound sometimes on the quiet nights. It's imperfect, but he tries. He presses a kiss to his horns and to the top of his head every so often in between.

Oh Messiahs, he pities this troll so much his stomach flips with it like a fucker on a grief trapeze.

He leans closer to him, and he wishes he could just become a part of him. If he were a troll more like Kurloz, he would be so much better off. Stronger. Braver. More proper and he'd be worth more. Maybe if he had been a proper troll like Kurloz he wouldn't be so devastated right now.

Pressing into his hand, he lets out a soft, barely audible sigh. Maybe...Maybe this does mean that Kurloz cares for him? And should he really question his judgment.

He reaches up for his hand, and he doesnt say anything, just grabs on and clings as tight as he can.

Kurloz reaches back. His fingers wrap around Mituna's and he lets his eyes close. He still thinks his Moirail strong, he still thinks all that he said, but sometimes he forgets that he can be fragile too. Mituna isn't exclusively an immovable pillar he can steady himself on, Mituna needs that too. He forgets sometimes, how breakable he is and there's a fear in that, just for him, tailored personal. This troll could bring his worst fears to life, if he wanted.

But he doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to lose this troll. He can be strong as he needs to be for him, as Mituna would.

"MITUNA," He starts, eyes kept closed as he keeps holding on. "I ain't a tower what can be reached. I AIN'T EVEN THE HIGHBLOOD YET, NOT REALLY. Even if a motherfucker was, it don't change the fact I'm a troll. AND SO YOU ARE YOU." He chews on his words before he says, "Please don't be afraid of me. AT LEAST NOT TO WHERE YOU USE ME ALL TO THINK OF YOURSELF LESS."

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The rat in your brain turns the wheel connected to your guts

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