06-08-2018, 12:26 AM
AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT
Sometimes, he wondered why he hadn't just kept walking. That first day, when he'd run into Starrynight -- he hadn't been here to answer an invitation. He hadn't been actively seeking the Ascendants. He'd never even fucking heard of the place, and suddenly there was this bright, excitable guy wanting to know if he'd gotten the message. He could have said no and kept going, kept living his easy, steady life of... nothingness. No groups, no people, no horrible emotions twisting him into knots, no connections, no problems. He had thought that he might be happier here, for a moment there. But was he really? Was it worth it?
What good had he gotten out of it all? Starry and all his joy, but at what cost? Wouldn't he have been better off not knowing, not feeling this soul-wrenching agony in his absence? He had thought that maybe it was a good thing that he was learning what it meant to feel things, again. To feel something other than that empty apathy or the anger of his first few months of life. He'd felt almost... less hopeless, like maybe he could be something more than just failure and darkness; he'd felt content, letting the Ascendants wrestle something out of him. Had enjoyed those quiet moments reading to Hazel or watching her aura flare radiantly, had been willing to admit to himself that he took comfort in Suite and Margy's presences, in visiting Luna when he needed someone to ground him. But what did it matter now, when letting them all in was killing him slowly, ripping apart every shred of his control and reducing him to nothing but that anger and despair?
Wouldn't he take it all back if he could?
He thought so, as he stared back at Margaery with no change. His stare was still just... flat, unmoved, as he looked back at her. He was angry, yes, had that vicious twist in his gut, but more than that he was just sick of her. Sick of her forcing her way into his life just to ruin everything, to hurt him, to make him regret ever teaching himself how to feel again in the first place. He was sick of her acting like she actually cared about him, when all she cared about was convincing herself that she wasn't a horrible fucking mother.
He felt something in him still at her words. Had she really expected this to anger him the least? He was supposed to train Hazel, had thought about it before -- not seriously, or with any formality, but little things. Defense. Balance. How not to get kidnapped, like Luna. And Margaery was taking her, just like she took away the Latin and reading. He should have felt something twist in him, should have felt the wave of anger, but there was... nothing. He'd already accepted that she was taking Hazel away from him, his only friend, and addition to that fact couldn't hurt him now. It could only prove his point.
No, what got him was the sinister suggestion there, as if she had to protect Hazel from him. As if he were the fucking monster, when she'd just confessed to kill her own mother, when she was a fucking plague -- when she was going to force Hazel to let her in and break her heart, too. It turned his blood to ice, and the rest of her words were nothing to him, a jumble of useless complaints. Because he didn't care. He didn't care what she had to say to him, didn't care that she thought he was being unfair, didn't care that she was hurt. There was nothing but cold apathy and a low burning anger.
"Oh, cry me a fucking river, Margaery," he cut in, voice chilled as he stared at her evenly, unwavering. He was crossing a line, could feel the moment something shifted in his chest, but he didn't have the fucks to give about it. "Do you ever just get exhausted pretending that you care all the damn time? Because I feel fucking exhausted for you. You don't care about me. You don't care about Hazel. All you fucking care about is proving to yourself that you're not a shitty fucking mother. You weasel your fucking way into people's lives and you insert yourself where you don't belong and you're just so fucking desperate to act like the perfect fucking mother and you know what?"
There was no escalation to his tone, no heat, no fire -- just ice. "You're selfish. You're selfish and you ruin everything, and you're not a mother. You're greedy, and you lie, and you're just looking out for yourself and what makes Margaery happy. So you know what? Fine. Teach Hazel how to read, and teach her that she needs to defend herself from me, and go on pretending like you give a fuck about me as if you're not stealing my one friend away so that you can try again on someone else. Because guess what, Margaery? It's not going to be any different. You're going to fuck everything up with her, too. You and Suiteheart acting like you're fucking mothers of the year, as if you wouldn't turn on your fucking children in a heartbeat... oh, sorry, as if you haven't already."
Too far, too far, he was stepping into territory he wasn't supposed to, dredging up things he wasn't supposed to share, and yet. His voice was a little lower as he sneered, "Maybe if you weren't so fucking obsessed with yourselves, Lily wouldn't have begged me to wipe you from her memories. What do you think it was that broke her, Margaery? Was it you trying to kill her? I think that's a cop out. I think the truth is that you used her to prop yourself up and feel like a good fucking mother, the both of you, and I think you ruined her, too. I think you pretended to care and you tore her down, again and again. I think she wanted you out of her life because she realized what I should have before I let you into my goddamn life."
Silence, for a beat, and then: "I have a mother, and she cared for me, and I loved her. I don't need either of you trying to force yourselves into some role you don't belong in, just so that you can ruin my fucking life like the rest of your children. You. Are not. My mother. And I don't want you to be. So do me a favor and fuck off, because I'm not interested in being mothered."
[align=center]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGSWhat good had he gotten out of it all? Starry and all his joy, but at what cost? Wouldn't he have been better off not knowing, not feeling this soul-wrenching agony in his absence? He had thought that maybe it was a good thing that he was learning what it meant to feel things, again. To feel something other than that empty apathy or the anger of his first few months of life. He'd felt almost... less hopeless, like maybe he could be something more than just failure and darkness; he'd felt content, letting the Ascendants wrestle something out of him. Had enjoyed those quiet moments reading to Hazel or watching her aura flare radiantly, had been willing to admit to himself that he took comfort in Suite and Margy's presences, in visiting Luna when he needed someone to ground him. But what did it matter now, when letting them all in was killing him slowly, ripping apart every shred of his control and reducing him to nothing but that anger and despair?
Wouldn't he take it all back if he could?
He thought so, as he stared back at Margaery with no change. His stare was still just... flat, unmoved, as he looked back at her. He was angry, yes, had that vicious twist in his gut, but more than that he was just sick of her. Sick of her forcing her way into his life just to ruin everything, to hurt him, to make him regret ever teaching himself how to feel again in the first place. He was sick of her acting like she actually cared about him, when all she cared about was convincing herself that she wasn't a horrible fucking mother.
He felt something in him still at her words. Had she really expected this to anger him the least? He was supposed to train Hazel, had thought about it before -- not seriously, or with any formality, but little things. Defense. Balance. How not to get kidnapped, like Luna. And Margaery was taking her, just like she took away the Latin and reading. He should have felt something twist in him, should have felt the wave of anger, but there was... nothing. He'd already accepted that she was taking Hazel away from him, his only friend, and addition to that fact couldn't hurt him now. It could only prove his point.
No, what got him was the sinister suggestion there, as if she had to protect Hazel from him. As if he were the fucking monster, when she'd just confessed to kill her own mother, when she was a fucking plague -- when she was going to force Hazel to let her in and break her heart, too. It turned his blood to ice, and the rest of her words were nothing to him, a jumble of useless complaints. Because he didn't care. He didn't care what she had to say to him, didn't care that she thought he was being unfair, didn't care that she was hurt. There was nothing but cold apathy and a low burning anger.
"Oh, cry me a fucking river, Margaery," he cut in, voice chilled as he stared at her evenly, unwavering. He was crossing a line, could feel the moment something shifted in his chest, but he didn't have the fucks to give about it. "Do you ever just get exhausted pretending that you care all the damn time? Because I feel fucking exhausted for you. You don't care about me. You don't care about Hazel. All you fucking care about is proving to yourself that you're not a shitty fucking mother. You weasel your fucking way into people's lives and you insert yourself where you don't belong and you're just so fucking desperate to act like the perfect fucking mother and you know what?"
There was no escalation to his tone, no heat, no fire -- just ice. "You're selfish. You're selfish and you ruin everything, and you're not a mother. You're greedy, and you lie, and you're just looking out for yourself and what makes Margaery happy. So you know what? Fine. Teach Hazel how to read, and teach her that she needs to defend herself from me, and go on pretending like you give a fuck about me as if you're not stealing my one friend away so that you can try again on someone else. Because guess what, Margaery? It's not going to be any different. You're going to fuck everything up with her, too. You and Suiteheart acting like you're fucking mothers of the year, as if you wouldn't turn on your fucking children in a heartbeat... oh, sorry, as if you haven't already."
Too far, too far, he was stepping into territory he wasn't supposed to, dredging up things he wasn't supposed to share, and yet. His voice was a little lower as he sneered, "Maybe if you weren't so fucking obsessed with yourselves, Lily wouldn't have begged me to wipe you from her memories. What do you think it was that broke her, Margaery? Was it you trying to kill her? I think that's a cop out. I think the truth is that you used her to prop yourself up and feel like a good fucking mother, the both of you, and I think you ruined her, too. I think you pretended to care and you tore her down, again and again. I think she wanted you out of her life because she realized what I should have before I let you into my goddamn life."
Silence, for a beat, and then: "I have a mother, and she cared for me, and I loved her. I don't need either of you trying to force yourselves into some role you don't belong in, just so that you can ruin my fucking life like the rest of your children. You. Are not. My mother. And I don't want you to be. So do me a favor and fuck off, because I'm not interested in being mothered."
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]