Mithos Yggdrasill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
imatreenow) wrote2013-06-06 07:39 pm
imatreenow) wrote2013-06-06 07:39 pm
twenty [action]
[Almost a week ago Mithos had returned from a mission, the first he'd ever volunteered for. It may have seemed a strange choice for someone who trusted no one, who loathed being a pawn for others, to submit himself as a lab rat for combat testing, but his choices are narrowing around him. There is something he is after. Something he can finally close his fingers around, after watching it all scream past him for so long. If he is going to be used by the Malnosso regardless of his choices, it is better that he gains something from it - which he'd had to remind himself many times to dampen the sour taste sitting in the back of his throat.
Now back in the village, he has resumed the same quiet routine as before. In the early morning, before the sun is too hot in the sky, and before too many villagers are awake, he can be seen hunched over in the garden around House 52. He tries not to wonder if the flowers, planted with the thin hope that his sister might have the chance to enjoy them, amount to anything more than a vain effort. When he decides he needs more supplies, he makes sure to visit the flower shop in the early afternoon - wondering, like a scratch in the back of his mind, if school is still in session at all, or if he'll run into someone he would rather not see at all.
Later in the day, he withdraws to the woods south of the village to train. Four thousand years of fighting are wired inside his muscles, but it doesn't hurt to stay as sharp as possible. He's still getting used to the subtle differences between a proper sword and the knife he now relies on. Slicing the air, going through the motions of killing, he feels like he is building something. When he's done, he settles in against the base of a tree and draws the ancient set of panpipes from his pocket. He usually prefers to play inside, where the music of his sister cannot be heard by prying ears, but surrounded by the forest and his thoughts he can almost forget that people exist. And so the notes come out, clear and steady.]
Now back in the village, he has resumed the same quiet routine as before. In the early morning, before the sun is too hot in the sky, and before too many villagers are awake, he can be seen hunched over in the garden around House 52. He tries not to wonder if the flowers, planted with the thin hope that his sister might have the chance to enjoy them, amount to anything more than a vain effort. When he decides he needs more supplies, he makes sure to visit the flower shop in the early afternoon - wondering, like a scratch in the back of his mind, if school is still in session at all, or if he'll run into someone he would rather not see at all.
Later in the day, he withdraws to the woods south of the village to train. Four thousand years of fighting are wired inside his muscles, but it doesn't hurt to stay as sharp as possible. He's still getting used to the subtle differences between a proper sword and the knife he now relies on. Slicing the air, going through the motions of killing, he feels like he is building something. When he's done, he settles in against the base of a tree and draws the ancient set of panpipes from his pocket. He usually prefers to play inside, where the music of his sister cannot be heard by prying ears, but surrounded by the forest and his thoughts he can almost forget that people exist. And so the notes come out, clear and steady.]
no subject
Mithos, please. Even if you didn't ask for their help, doesn't it show that I'm not the only one who won't leave you to be lonely? [Because Mithos can't argue with Jeb that he isn't. Not when Jeb can argue right back with every proof he has that Mithos is.] Isn't... isn't that something?!
[He wipes his eyes again, then holds his hand out to Mithos.] It doesn't matter how many times you push me away. I'll continue to protect you when I have to. I'll continue to care about you.
no subject
No, it isn't! It isn't anything! [He can't let it be something, because then he might start to believe in it, and what if it's all pulled out from underneath him again? What if there was nothing to stand on to begin with?
He refuses to look at Jeb's outstretched hand for more than a split second. He doesn't want to see in Jeb the friend he had gratefully held onto months ago. The friend who still wanted to be his friend in spite of the terrible secrets unraveling in his hands back then, and in spite of the sharpness he hasn't stopped throwing these past years. In spite of how many pieces he's in.]
They're all nothing to me! Nothing!
[Nothing, absolutely nothing, he doesn't need them he doesn't need anyone because he's going to be strong stop being weak stop wanting things that are impossible--]
no subject
[It's not asked in anger, in malice. The tone in Jeb's voice is nothing but pure sorrow. This time, he isn't stopping with his steps forward.]
How much longer are you going to say those things, when we both know they're not true? I'm not going to let you force yourself into solitude, when you told me yourself that's not what you want!
["There were people who wanted to help me...who offered to be my friend, but I wouldn't listen. Why can't he-- I see that they're just trying to help?"
Jeb hasn't forgotten what was said back then. And it's not just backed up by that. There's also the event that led to Jeb making his first promise to Mithos, the way he found out too much to begin with. Even if there were memories of romance fabricated into the mix, the bracelet from that time is still around his wrist. It holds the weight of two promises now, and Jeb won't break them.]
I can't convince you of anything. I can't force you to stop. But I'm going to stay by your side, and you're still my friend.
no subject
He can't. Not again. It pounds through him like a sickened heartbeat. I can't. I can't I won't be strong be strong be strong.
I don't want to end up like that! His younger self - a reflection of a past that he lost a long time ago - had been terrified of what he would become. He had believed in change and possibilities and all the things Mithos can't anymore. He hadn't understood. Or had he understood something Mithos couldn't anymore? I just wish I could see that...
He throws Jeb a look that tries to be a glare, but his bewildered eyes betray him. Then he does something he's never done before: he turns and briskly stalks through the trees without another word. No insult, no fierce denial. Nothing.]