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.]
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[His voice is firm. Not an accusation, merely a statement of fact. He remembered how Mithos' inability to compromise, to let her have other feelings besides hatred towards all of humanity, had hurt her. How poisonous that mindset could be to Kaori.] You tried to make her choose because she had humans she cared for and lived with. You couldn't accept it. You became angry and refused to speak to her. She cried.
You were a friend to her, I will not deny that. You were likely closer to her in ways I never would have been. But that does not change that you were cruel to her for having others who cared for her in her life. [He would not hide away from the facts.] Your inability to see humans as entities beyond the ones that hurt you both, hurt her.
[In many ways. Some Freyjadour would never tell him. He wasn't cruel.] I've seen her cry; More than once. She woke up in tears from nightmares, but she still sought me for comfort after them. She knew, at least, the difference between the humans who hurt her and her friends and family. Perhaps she still didn't trust me as much as I'd like to hope....perhaps not even as much as you. but she at least knew that.
BREAKING TAG ORDER EVERYWHERE yea
He was going to give Mithos that chance until Frey spoke, and at that moment he could only see red.
Nothing else he said registered because he could feel the heat or rage building in him, nails digging firmly into his skin that it would be no surprise if he was drawing blood. If there was any pain to it he felt nothing, nothing except the burn in his eyes and a sense that was not quite betrayal, but was definitely more than simply 'hurt.']
How could you do that?! [His feet carry him forward, ready to launch himself toward the blonde with full force, to this man who had dared to so intimately hurt someone he cherished. It was one of the few things that was almost unforgivable to him, and the expression on his face was not enough to convey it.
For what he did to her, he wanted to see Mithos hurt—the part of himself that held to the desire for peace and acceptance was washed away for this split moment as his hands reach out with the intention of harm, the dirt and earth around them shifting and being thrown about violently in response to his emotions.] Why would you do that to her?!
APPARENTLY SO Hi Kath you can go next I swear.
He's completely unaware of the thoughts going through Aleos' mind, or the significance of what he'd just said had happened. All he knows is he doesn't want this to progress to violence, not with that knife still in Mithos hand. He works to pull Aleos away, and more importantly, out of the range of any possible retaliation.] Aleos, stop it! Hurting him won't change the past!
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Shut up! You don't know anything! [He can excuse everything with those simple words, everything he's ever done.] I didn't...I didn't mean-- [But he did mean to hurt her back then. Cut the strings tying them together and break free. Freedom isn't what he found afterward, not in the emptiness of his chest when he shut the journal and crumpled into tears.]
You don't understand! [The fear of being left behind. The need to be the one to do the leaving. Hurt them before they can hurt you. He didn't think he had a choice at the time. He didn't know what else to do, he was scared.] I came back to her, didn't I? We were friends again...she said she needed me! She needed me...!
[His voice strains beneath the weight of everything he wants to say, everything he can't say because he doesn't know how. It's too raw to tame into words, too large and unwieldy to fit inside something as compact as a sentence. Even as he clings to excuses, tries to wrap himself in the absence of responsibility, he wishes he had never done it. He wants to take it back. The pain she must have felt, the pain he dealt himself, the long empty months without her, wasted, when she was still in the village and he had the chance to be by her side. A chance he might never have again.
It's another reality he doesn't want to face.]
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[The knife doesn't even register to him yet, he doesn't realize how close he is to being hurt by something that had been crafted so carefully by the hand of a cherished friend. If he were aware of it, the recognition of the handiwork would have been enough to stop him where he stood. No, all his efforts are on trying to make this person understand what a twisted mistake he made, to try to see behind the burning in his own eyes that she had been hurt so terribly—]
It won't stop the past but it can make him appreciate the present! What did he do to deserve that kindness if he tortured it?!
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His suspicions had been correct. Mithos had had a weapon on him all along, and he would not see Aleos injured, much less with that blade. Once he realizes the Knife is out to stay, he takes a different tactic, working to wrestle the smaller brunette into a position where his own body would at least be a shield in case of attack. The shaking earth did not make this easy.] It is as much my fault for not watching her carefully enough....! But she would not want this!
[He turns to glance at Mithos, keeping most of his focus on keeping Aleos away but his eyes are steely. He was doing his best to keep them apart, and would make his body a barrier as much as he could, but this was still dangerous. He had to try to get them both to stand down, as difficult as it was, or the situation would not defuse. His voice is firm: a warning as much as a command.] Put that away. She would shed tears once more if you used that knife on him, and I will not allow it. She did not leave you that for this.
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Both of you are hypocrites! You get angry at me for not forgiving others, you lecture me about letting go of hatred, but neither of you will forgive me for something that already happened, something I can't go back and change!
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[Control, that's all they can do that's all he wanted he doesn't want to see their blood on his hands again, it was all him it was all his fault. If he had only had better control...!
It doesn't matter that Frey is restricting him so, he still tries to go around him even though his hands move of their own accord, gripping on to him almost as though he were his last lifeline as he tried to stop shaking, earth still flying up around them as his breath began to go into an irregular pattern. He didn't want this he didn't want to think about that pain, how much it must have hurt if she was driven to tears...]
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He'd failed once again in his efforts to keep people safe, but he was going to at least try to make sure no injuries happened. He keeps his grip on Aleos, trying to keep his balance in a shake that reminded him of an earth rune spell. What was he doing....? His voice isn't yelling, but it is strong, firm, trying to gain some sort of understanding from them both.] Because I wanted to keep her safe and happy. And now I want to keep you both safe.
That is why I am asking you both to stand down.
ugh sorry
Fine! [He doesn't lower the knife, but he carefully steps back to show he never wanted to be here.] Fine...I don't even care what you think! [The quickest way to tear this confrontation down...] Just leave me alone, both of you!
/snugs Kath forever
His head ducks to hide his face in Frey's chest, shoulders hunched as though he were starting to curl into himself. And perhaps he was, if his hands weren't gripping so tightly onto Frey's arms as he trembled; if he was hurting the older man, he didn't notice. Not when strangled noises managed to escape and he felt so sick, clinging to this man who was his only anchor right now.
Looking at Mithos at this very moment was unthinkable, not when he felt he would only hurt so much worse if he did. The pain he was feeling right now wasn't his alone, and it was so much more than he could handle even as the earth began to calm down. To look at Mithos would mean inviting his heart to try to take on as much of his anguish as he could, and he couldn't bear it anymore as he trembled more violently, wanting to scream but being unable to.]
/snugs you both
Mithos was backing down. Aleos... Aleos wasn't going to attack anyone, not now. Both of them were hurting, but he couldn't solve these pains. This meeting was something he'd sought to avoid because of it.
He turns his head, glancing at Mithos out of the corner of his eyes with a sad look. He wished.....] I'm sorry, Mithos.
[He wished Mithos wasn't so dead set on tearing himself.... and everyone else, apart. He wished things had ended differently, back then. He wishes there was a solution that could ease things now. But 'I'm sorry' was all he could offer at the moment, when Mithos rejected everyone around him.]
/snugs all around
You can say that as many times as you like...it still doesn't change anything.
[He continues to back up. The earth has calmed beneath his feet, but he can still feel the tremors deep inside him. A few yards away he turns, flipping the knife's blade away, and he runs. He has nowhere to go but an empty house where he can only try to hide from the ugly monsters howling inside him. All he needs is to not be found.
Alone, again. Always. Maybe he was always alone. A fool for thinking otherwise.]