eighteen [action]

[imatreenow]

[Friday afternoon finds Mithos dragging a granite statue through the streets of Luceti. It will look familiar to those who can claim Aselia as their home world, carved adoringly in the likeness of a young man wielding dual swords. The figure is planted atop a base that bears a plaque engraved with the simple honor, "The Hero Lloyd Irving." All together, it stands at about three and a half feet, scaled down from the original model.

For Mithos, it's a bitter reminder of things that could never have been. Its sudden appearance in his house had been an elbow nudging him sharply in the ribs, an obnoxious stage whisper prompting, "Hey, remember that time all your hopes and dreams were crushed?"

Yes, yes he remembers.

Which is why he had to get rid of it. The first day, he dragged the statue behind the house, let it topple into the river, and watched the determined stony face sink below the surface. The next morning, it found its way back to his living room. Each day, he drags it farther away, and each morning it proudly comes back.

His route today takes him up from the south end of the village through the north end and into the woods. The farther away, the better.]

Comments

[sketchingideals]

Then please... don't think I will. I'm not trying to boss you around, but I could never believe that. Not now.

[He's digging a deeper hole for himself. The worst part is that he's completely aware of it.]

[imatreenow]

[He needs to get out of this conversation. He isn't ready to accept that from Jeb, and he doubts he'll ever be ready, so he veers away like he always does.]

Tell me this: how do you know Lloyd?

[sketchingideals]

[He lets Mithos veer away, for now.]

Um... well, he showed up here once, and we talked a couple of times. I didn't know him that well, but he didn't seem like a bad person. Why do you ask?

[imatreenow]

Was he someone you wanted to be friends with? [Friends - he spits the word out like it has a sour taste.]

[sketchingideals]

[This conversation is making him uncomfortable.]

...why are you asking? [...] W-What I mean is, you've never seemed to be interested in that kind of thing before.

[imatreenow]

Answer the question. [His voice is steel - hard, cold, glinting dangerously.]

[sketchingideals]

...I wanted to get to know him better, at the very least. [He's rubbing his arm now.] Is there a reason why I should or shouldn't?

[imatreenow]

I don't care what you do. [Choose Lloyd, see if he cares, just choose Lloyd.]

You would fit in with his little group, with your idiotic ideals, believing the world is this wonderful place it never has been and never will be. [Farther away, push him farther, you don't feel sorry, you don't care, he doesn't care what you do, he's safe now.] If you're on his side, then know that you are against me.

[sketchingideals]

[He's extremely shocked. For a few moments, he doesn't even say anything. And then, quietly, as if experiencing extreme sorrow:] ...why is it a matter of sides? Why does it matter? I don't want to be against you.

[imatreenow]

[As Jeb's voice shrinks, his grows.] Neutrality is a lie. [In remaining neutral in a system of injustice, you have chosen the side of injustice; in choosing both sides in an argument, you have committed to neither. Me or him, me or him who would you pick?]

Because of Lloyd, I lost everything. [Or had he already lost everything, because Martel didn't agree with him she didn't approve of what he did she didn't understand?] It's because of him that I have no world to return to.

[sketchingideals]

...then...

If neutrality is really a lie, and if what you say is true... then I wouldn't [couldn't] be his friend.

How could I get close to someone you say I'd fit in with, when he's made it so you can't go home? It doesn't matter how much our opinions line up together--that's something I would never want to do to anyone! [Did you see how mortified he was to kill that zombie, Mithos?] Besides, I... I already care about you.

1/2

[imatreenow]

[For a moment, the lid flies off of everything Mithos tries to keep hidden, and he can do nothing but stare at Jeb with bewildered eyes. He... he would pick him? Kratos had picked Lloyd, and Yuan, and Genis and Raine, and even Martel had picked Lloyd, when it came down to it. But Jeb...Jeb would pick him?]

[imatreenow]

[He finds his voice again.] You don't mean that. [His words are soft, incredulous, and - underneath it all - wanting. He tries to make them harder, sharper, colder, everything he needs to be so he can stop falling apart.]

You can't possibly mean that.

[sketchingideals]

I do mean it! Why wouldn't I?! [He maintains direct eye contact with Mithos.] Even if the promise I made back then means nothing to you, it means everything to me. Even a partially fabricated me is still me, and it's something real I took from that. I can't possibly be friends with Lloyd if he's hurt you so much. Even if he's a kind person, I can't do that.

No one deserves to be all alone, and to have nowhere to return to. I don't know what he did to cause that, Mithos, but whatever it was... I can't imagine myself agreeing with it.

[If he knew what Lloyd had done was take Mithos' life, he'd be even further against it. Jeb doesn't even want it to come down to that with Donovan...]

[imatreenow]

I-- [can't I can't do this I can't can't can't] --just want to be left alone. How many times do I have to repeat myself?

[He can't do this again. He can't try to trust someone - trust a human - again, not when it was so hard the first time, so confusing, exhausting his heart, he can't. But hadn't it been worth it in the end, with Sayo? Hadn't he found something he stopped dreaming he would feel a long time ago? No he can't, he doesn't want to try he doesn't want to see or listen or feel anything.]

[sketchingideals]

...you said yourself that you didn't. That you never did.

[He wonders if saying that is a mistake once he says it, but it's too late, isn't it?]

[imatreenow]

Shut up. [He did say that he remembers saying that and he wishes he hadn't why did he let Jeb hear that part of him--]

I can't even stand you-- [This is true. He's not lying, but he's still hiding. He can't stand Jeb because of the way he digs underneath his skin and crosses wires.] --so why would I want-- [to be friends to let you try to make it hurt less] --anything to do with you?

[He hates being confused. He hates not knowing what to believe. He wants everything black and white, simple, painless, but does painlessness even exist?]

[sketchingideals]

...if I were stronger, maybe you'd be able to stand me. [If he were someone else, maybe he could break through. Mithos used to have support, didn't he? And Jeb... wasn't always this desperate. Is it because Mithos is alone now that Jeb's more desperate than ever to keep his promise? Why? He knows Mithos can't stand him. But he's not blaming Mithos for that--he's blaming himself.] It's my fault. If I were someone worthy...

[imatreenow]

[If I were stronger, but Mithos knows he's weaker than Jeb. That doesn't stop him from pretending, from pulling the steel around himself, and turning this away from his own heart, bruised and pulpy.] But you're not. You're just a weak and pathetic human.

[sketchingideals]

["Human"... no, he's not. Not since the moment his powers awakened, brought forth by his connection to someone who never should have died in the first place. But...]

Yes... I am weak and pathetic. [He can at least comment on that. If he weren't, he wouldn't have needed to be shoved out of the way back then. No one would have been hurt on his account.]

[imatreenow]

You can't do anything. [Jeb is as powerless as he is, isn't he? He can't help him. Nobody here can help him. He's wedged right where he is, and nothing can pry him out.] So stop trying to fool yourself into thinking you can. [Stop trying to fool him into thinking that maybe, just maybe...]

[sketchingideals]

...I was able to help you. D-During that draft, I was able to help you. [It's all he can think of to say in response.] Maybe I am weak now, but maybe I also won't be weak forever. I was able to do that one thing back then. Maybe I'll learn to be able to do more.

[imatreenow]

[He only has the same old arguments, wearing thin and, sapped of energy, growing brittle. He can't push Jeb's logic - not cold, but enticingly warm - away anymore.

But he's afraid to stop trying.] Stop it. [He takes a threatening step closer.] Just stop it.

[sketchingideals]

[Jeb stops talking, but he doesn't take a step back in respond to Mithos' stepping forward. He only watches him.]

[imatreenow]

[He pauses in his advance when Jeb doesn't back away. His glare is frantic, and his arsenal of words are all blanks. He wants Jeb to disappear, or he wants himself to disappear - he doesn't know which would be better.]