deconstruction
private - tagging Zetsu. set day 6, early afternoon
deconstruction
((Princess McQuillan continued from Hello Kitty Land))
She'd already trotted along a good deal further than she'd promised herself or the others, a revitalizing novelty to the return of her now well-calloused flesh to earth. It freshened the very air she breathed, to have picked her own direction even if picked without aim. Her queasiness had been buoyant, a gentle reminder that had been patient to wait until she'd broken through the tree line and casually slung what remained in her stomach- preponderously little, she was long since operating more on style than substance- onto a concrete pylon helping connect some sort of vast, sagging array of nets to earth. Her spew looked pure, almost, smooth like cream of mushroom. Similar color, too.
This had been one of the areas on the map she hadn't stumbled across yet. She couldn't quite recall the name.
She swabbed at her lips, instinctively checked the untamed bits of her hair that could have gotten in the way. A quick confirmation of her remaining clean and dry. Impressive she'd kept those traits this long- if she'd been anything remotely close to herself, she'd have berated herself for being too boring by at least the turn of the third day.
Seemed she kept little in the form of ambition. Maybe a quick peek through the more carefully arranged topiary lining the paths. That was probably enough intellectual curiosity for the rest of her short lifetime? Her footsteps echoed without answer, empty questions skirting the barest edge of danger and the unknown. Where the netting broke, that was where she tiptoed about, her wandering eye empty as the rest of her.
She didn't hear the other person until it was too late.
"... Megan."
Of all the people who could somehow still be alive, Princess had least expected it to be her. In a way she wanted Megan to still be around. In another way, that was the worst fucking possible worst case scenario.
She'd already trotted along a good deal further than she'd promised herself or the others, a revitalizing novelty to the return of her now well-calloused flesh to earth. It freshened the very air she breathed, to have picked her own direction even if picked without aim. Her queasiness had been buoyant, a gentle reminder that had been patient to wait until she'd broken through the tree line and casually slung what remained in her stomach- preponderously little, she was long since operating more on style than substance- onto a concrete pylon helping connect some sort of vast, sagging array of nets to earth. Her spew looked pure, almost, smooth like cream of mushroom. Similar color, too.
This had been one of the areas on the map she hadn't stumbled across yet. She couldn't quite recall the name.
She swabbed at her lips, instinctively checked the untamed bits of her hair that could have gotten in the way. A quick confirmation of her remaining clean and dry. Impressive she'd kept those traits this long- if she'd been anything remotely close to herself, she'd have berated herself for being too boring by at least the turn of the third day.
Seemed she kept little in the form of ambition. Maybe a quick peek through the more carefully arranged topiary lining the paths. That was probably enough intellectual curiosity for the rest of her short lifetime? Her footsteps echoed without answer, empty questions skirting the barest edge of danger and the unknown. Where the netting broke, that was where she tiptoed about, her wandering eye empty as the rest of her.
She didn't hear the other person until it was too late.
"... Megan."
Of all the people who could somehow still be alive, Princess had least expected it to be her. In a way she wanted Megan to still be around. In another way, that was the worst fucking possible worst case scenario.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
As it turns out, Megan wouldn't need to make up her mind on what to do after all. For a little while, anyways.
((Continued from Knight of Faith))
The crunch of shoes on gravel, the heavy but controlled breath of someone trying to keep quiet while moving a lot. In truth Megan had only seen Princess when she entered the building, but her imagination had filled out the whole soundscape.
Megan didn't blame Princess for her current state, for everything that had happened. She really didn't.
She'd turned around, walked away a little. The drama would suit both of them. And if Princess wanted to pretend not to notice Megan, if the thought of dealing with Megan now was too much, then that was an option she had as well.
Really Megan should be trying to spare Princess the guilt of even having to make that decision, and finding a spot in the foliage to hide. There had been plenty of time to do that--Princess wasn't exactly walking quickly, and the foliage in this building wasn't exactly sparse--but something had kept Megan's feet rooted there, refusing to budge. She wasn't sure she should be listening to it.
Megan really didn't blame Princess for her current state.
Princess had called out to her after all, or at least said her name. The voice was blank, emotionless. So Megan's was too.
"That's me." Megan didn't turn around as she talked. "What do you want to talk to me for?"
Didn't know what she wanted. Didn't know what else to say.
((Continued from Knight of Faith))
The crunch of shoes on gravel, the heavy but controlled breath of someone trying to keep quiet while moving a lot. In truth Megan had only seen Princess when she entered the building, but her imagination had filled out the whole soundscape.
Megan didn't blame Princess for her current state, for everything that had happened. She really didn't.
She'd turned around, walked away a little. The drama would suit both of them. And if Princess wanted to pretend not to notice Megan, if the thought of dealing with Megan now was too much, then that was an option she had as well.
Really Megan should be trying to spare Princess the guilt of even having to make that decision, and finding a spot in the foliage to hide. There had been plenty of time to do that--Princess wasn't exactly walking quickly, and the foliage in this building wasn't exactly sparse--but something had kept Megan's feet rooted there, refusing to budge. She wasn't sure she should be listening to it.
Megan really didn't blame Princess for her current state.
Princess had called out to her after all, or at least said her name. The voice was blank, emotionless. So Megan's was too.
"That's me." Megan didn't turn around as she talked. "What do you want to talk to me for?"
Didn't know what she wanted. Didn't know what else to say.
Her back had been turned. Princess could have easily pretended that they somehow hadn't seen each other- a particular visual conceit that would have been so hilariously theatrical and overwrought Princess could well have attributed it to herself and her own standards- and they could have ignored the dry gravel, the awkwardly stilted breathing, the wide open spaces to find each other in, the very fact that it was the both of them, all that could have been irrelevant, they could have both just walked away.
And here they were now. Megan honestly didn't look much worse for the wear, somehow. Hers had always been a beauty grounded in being so generic and unassuming. Perhaps that sort of background noise could never be tarnished.
"I..."
This was already too much. Princess could have gone the entire rest of her life without ever having to confront this and she would have... remained miserable, but at least it would have been an acceptable stasis of the status quo. Princess had so few things left to lose. And she was face to face, dead eye crossfire with one of them.
She exhaled. Tasted the fresh bile on her breath.
"Owe you an apology, at least." Honesty probably wasn't the best policy- hardly one that Princess had pursued when they'd been friends, even. But Princess was no longer capable of condescending emoting at Megan in that way she'd used to, that she'd once believed had been for the dainty butterfly's worth of a girl's own good.
"Claude and I got away from you because I allowed it. I had these plans, to be a messiah of some sort. They involved people dying. I didn't want you to be one of them- didn't want to see it. So I tried to cut it all off before, you know. It got to that point. And now that's all irrelevant, and I abandoned you for no reason at all. Can't apologize enough for that. And not least because, you know, I don't exactly have a lot of time left to make it up to you with."
Most dragging minute of her entire life, bar none, and she'd been attacked by a crazy bitch with a knife for at least a few minutes worth of her time.
And here they were now. Megan honestly didn't look much worse for the wear, somehow. Hers had always been a beauty grounded in being so generic and unassuming. Perhaps that sort of background noise could never be tarnished.
"I..."
This was already too much. Princess could have gone the entire rest of her life without ever having to confront this and she would have... remained miserable, but at least it would have been an acceptable stasis of the status quo. Princess had so few things left to lose. And she was face to face, dead eye crossfire with one of them.
She exhaled. Tasted the fresh bile on her breath.
"Owe you an apology, at least." Honesty probably wasn't the best policy- hardly one that Princess had pursued when they'd been friends, even. But Princess was no longer capable of condescending emoting at Megan in that way she'd used to, that she'd once believed had been for the dainty butterfly's worth of a girl's own good.
"Claude and I got away from you because I allowed it. I had these plans, to be a messiah of some sort. They involved people dying. I didn't want you to be one of them- didn't want to see it. So I tried to cut it all off before, you know. It got to that point. And now that's all irrelevant, and I abandoned you for no reason at all. Can't apologize enough for that. And not least because, you know, I don't exactly have a lot of time left to make it up to you with."
Most dragging minute of her entire life, bar none, and she'd been attacked by a crazy bitch with a knife for at least a few minutes worth of her time.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Megan stayed still, refusing to turn around and look at Princess. Couldn't be sure that her face would look right. Was Megan's face an open book? Or was that a thing that her brain had lied to her about? Anyways, there was also the risk that Megan might just start crying when she saw Princess's face which was, like. A very real possibility.
Hell, probably the only reason the words weren't enough to make her cry was because she'd spent so much of the past couple of days crying. Megan had already talked herself out of expecting an apology, wanting an apology, deserving an apology because Princess had been at fault for nothing and if it wasn't exactly Megan's fault for feeling hurt it's not like anyone had hurt her, either. And the hurt streams out of Megan's brain, reminding her that it had all been very real, and it was alive, she was alive.
Megan had needed to hear it. Maybe Princess had needed to say it, too. These things could be true, even if the statement itself was false.
"It wasn't--I'm not--you weren't--" Megan shuddered, took a deep breath.
"Not your fault. I'm sorry I was so useless. You...you deserved better. Can't blame you for wanting to do better." She would like to think that her voice was careful and controlled. Soft, too.
Probably shouldn't pity herself if she really wanted Princess to think she hadn't done anything wrong. Megan really hadn't deserved that apology, no matter how nice it felt. Oh, she just wanted to be held. She just wanted to be held, and to hurt no one.
She tore a leaf from one of the garden plants, turned it around and around in her hands. "What do you mean, not much time? Like. How much time do you mean? It's just. I mean. Yeah." Megan stopped herself before she could make it worse.
Princess couldn't know, could she? She hadn't even seen Megan's face.
Hell, probably the only reason the words weren't enough to make her cry was because she'd spent so much of the past couple of days crying. Megan had already talked herself out of expecting an apology, wanting an apology, deserving an apology because Princess had been at fault for nothing and if it wasn't exactly Megan's fault for feeling hurt it's not like anyone had hurt her, either. And the hurt streams out of Megan's brain, reminding her that it had all been very real, and it was alive, she was alive.
Megan had needed to hear it. Maybe Princess had needed to say it, too. These things could be true, even if the statement itself was false.
"It wasn't--I'm not--you weren't--" Megan shuddered, took a deep breath.
"Not your fault. I'm sorry I was so useless. You...you deserved better. Can't blame you for wanting to do better." She would like to think that her voice was careful and controlled. Soft, too.
Probably shouldn't pity herself if she really wanted Princess to think she hadn't done anything wrong. Megan really hadn't deserved that apology, no matter how nice it felt. Oh, she just wanted to be held. She just wanted to be held, and to hurt no one.
She tore a leaf from one of the garden plants, turned it around and around in her hands. "What do you mean, not much time? Like. How much time do you mean? It's just. I mean. Yeah." Megan stopped herself before she could make it worse.
Princess couldn't know, could she? She hadn't even seen Megan's face.
Words sounded different without a face to look at, didn't they? But Princess, of all people, was used to causality not applying to conversation. A faceless mask was just one of a hundred on a stage.
She really was not as bothered as she should have been, all said and done. Or was that just another contrivance?
"Deserve better? Hardly. Don't- do not... put words in my mouth. You were. You know. Never good at doing that." It was hard to tell if she actually managed to sound more genuine when she lost control of the script, sadly. The empty tone might or might not have been an affect which may or may not have been purposeful, possibly being a reflection of herself or maybe of what she thought was herself or of the person others probably expected her to be when all the dandelion fluff blew away and it turned out all that was left was a naked, petty bitch.
Megan did her best to sound like the extra who got one line for a good reason. Forgettable. Permanently etched into Princess' increasingly useless gray matter, much like the rest of her damning regrets.
"You know what I mean."
She'd said that reflexively. Then she'd taken a step forward. Another, for good measure. A third, for posterity's sake. Neither of them were particularly big people. Seemed like they were inevitable, unavoidable lumps of flesh awkwardly splayed out into the middle of an otherwise perfectly good and well-designed pathway. Princess stood by Megan, quietly accepting that the blank silhouette might be all she ever got to see of the girl she had once dared- oh, how she'd so gallingly assumed she had the right- to call a friend.
"Well, rather. I, um, don't want to assume you do. Megan, I'm not making it off this island. You and I both know that."
Yeah, say it right to her ear, more or less. Say it in that infuriatingly pedestrian monotone. That'd surely soften the blow any. The warm- too warm, Princess broadcast and realized a second to late to take back- hand that closed atop Megan's own didn't seem to hesitate. Not quite parallel or perpendicular, thumb too short to fully clear the bulk of the wrist, unlike the remainder fingers all almost weighty enough to actually transmit the idea of a human presence.
"I am way too stubborn to have it any other way, right? I promise you. That's not changed."
She really was not as bothered as she should have been, all said and done. Or was that just another contrivance?
"Deserve better? Hardly. Don't- do not... put words in my mouth. You were. You know. Never good at doing that." It was hard to tell if she actually managed to sound more genuine when she lost control of the script, sadly. The empty tone might or might not have been an affect which may or may not have been purposeful, possibly being a reflection of herself or maybe of what she thought was herself or of the person others probably expected her to be when all the dandelion fluff blew away and it turned out all that was left was a naked, petty bitch.
Megan did her best to sound like the extra who got one line for a good reason. Forgettable. Permanently etched into Princess' increasingly useless gray matter, much like the rest of her damning regrets.
"You know what I mean."
She'd said that reflexively. Then she'd taken a step forward. Another, for good measure. A third, for posterity's sake. Neither of them were particularly big people. Seemed like they were inevitable, unavoidable lumps of flesh awkwardly splayed out into the middle of an otherwise perfectly good and well-designed pathway. Princess stood by Megan, quietly accepting that the blank silhouette might be all she ever got to see of the girl she had once dared- oh, how she'd so gallingly assumed she had the right- to call a friend.
"Well, rather. I, um, don't want to assume you do. Megan, I'm not making it off this island. You and I both know that."
Yeah, say it right to her ear, more or less. Say it in that infuriatingly pedestrian monotone. That'd surely soften the blow any. The warm- too warm, Princess broadcast and realized a second to late to take back- hand that closed atop Megan's own didn't seem to hesitate. Not quite parallel or perpendicular, thumb too short to fully clear the bulk of the wrist, unlike the remainder fingers all almost weighty enough to actually transmit the idea of a human presence.
"I am way too stubborn to have it any other way, right? I promise you. That's not changed."
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Footsteps, words, breath on the back of Megan's neck. She caught herself holding her breath, and exhaled. It feels melodramatic to say that the strength was leaving Megan's body, but it was, her emotions so physical, so tangible. There were her legs, starting to give out underneath her before she rooted herself. This close to trusting Princess with the trust fall whether she wanted to or not. There was always that melodrama in her nature, positively Victorian; not that Princess was in a place to appreciate that bit of not-irony. But it felt real. Helped Megan feel herself real. She'd always liked that.
The voice, dessicated and bare, was doing its best. Oh, Megan had no doubt that Princess was saying what she felt. It sounded like autumn leaves, that voice, crunching beneath Megan's feet. Leaves like the ones back home, on the trails she hiked. There was something there, less about Megan missing something and more about the idea of Megan missing something. The words, though. They stung.
Princess deserved better. She daren't think it, and Megan wasn't strong enough to say it again--not with Princess's fingers curling around hers. But it was there.
Megan willed herself to shake off Princess's hand, to step forward. Forward and away, no looking back. Words that would tell Princess that she didn't need to take care of Megan without sounding self-pitying: Well, I've changed, and it's okay, you don't have to protect me anymore, your job here is done. Words that would work, words that weren't barely-veiled cries for help. The right words. They were easy enough to find.
But Princess was warm behind her, her hand and general presence warm, Princess, please, don't let Megan choose what she does, but hurt her, hold her, never let her go.
Please, as Megan turns around, fingers curled and twisted back around to somehow cling to the fingers which had been on the back of her hand--look, here's Megan's face now, her eyes blinking hard as they willed the tears to not exist--please, don't listen to what Megan means, or what she wants. She knows what's right. A smile beamed, somehow teary despite the lack of tears. A tilted head, eye contact. Mean it.
"You don't need to, you know. I don't want to have to watch you die. I mean, I'll be dead before you're dead, but still. Unless you die in the next couple of days, I guess. And you don't have to stay with me through that. I'm not--it's not--it's okay, okay? I'll be okay. I'll be fine. It's for the best."
The voice, dessicated and bare, was doing its best. Oh, Megan had no doubt that Princess was saying what she felt. It sounded like autumn leaves, that voice, crunching beneath Megan's feet. Leaves like the ones back home, on the trails she hiked. There was something there, less about Megan missing something and more about the idea of Megan missing something. The words, though. They stung.
Princess deserved better. She daren't think it, and Megan wasn't strong enough to say it again--not with Princess's fingers curling around hers. But it was there.
Megan willed herself to shake off Princess's hand, to step forward. Forward and away, no looking back. Words that would tell Princess that she didn't need to take care of Megan without sounding self-pitying: Well, I've changed, and it's okay, you don't have to protect me anymore, your job here is done. Words that would work, words that weren't barely-veiled cries for help. The right words. They were easy enough to find.
But Princess was warm behind her, her hand and general presence warm, Princess, please, don't let Megan choose what she does, but hurt her, hold her, never let her go.
Please, as Megan turns around, fingers curled and twisted back around to somehow cling to the fingers which had been on the back of her hand--look, here's Megan's face now, her eyes blinking hard as they willed the tears to not exist--please, don't listen to what Megan means, or what she wants. She knows what's right. A smile beamed, somehow teary despite the lack of tears. A tilted head, eye contact. Mean it.
"You don't need to, you know. I don't want to have to watch you die. I mean, I'll be dead before you're dead, but still. Unless you die in the next couple of days, I guess. And you don't have to stay with me through that. I'm not--it's not--it's okay, okay? I'll be okay. I'll be fine. It's for the best."
If Megan had opted to fall backwards Princess wasn't particularly sure this iteration of herself would have been capable of catching her.
A search of Megan's soft eyes, weak lip, turned up nothing except for the desolate stretch of empty space between them. The color of her eyes was difficult to pick out, perhaps nothing more than a mirage under the glare of the tropical sun. Memories filed by the tiny shriveled thing her self-concept had become, unbidden. Placid nights in the odds-and-ends corners of Chattanooga, and the sense that they were somehow individually alone despite being together. The complex dance of Megan's hand over the piano set in her home, and the disquieting sensation that Princess wasn't supposed to be watching even when she'd been explicitly invited. The first time around those sounds had only barely registered as anything besides ethereal- the tiniest grooves of a phonograph's disc. Time only made them sound even more distant, displaced in time than they'd already been.
"... I-" She'd heard Megan out, and hadn't cared much for what she'd heard. "I'm a hypocrite, because I hate to hear what I just said coming out of your mouth now."
Megan blinked slower. Morse code gibberish. No less tension was involved, keeping her expression on the right side of an emotional cliff.
"It's one thing to abstractify it to yourself. But- but saying it out loud. Makes it sound so stupid."
And Megan's smile evolved, infinitesimally. Maybe Megan had something to say. A rebuttal. A promise. Empty like air. Air going up the wrong pipe, rather than down.
"It's gross that all the value left in our lives is in their swift ends."
She was talking too much. Again. Megan watched her watching her watching her. Princess couldn't make out much of the specifics of Megan's face. Lens flare.
"Maybe we should be proud, at least... That we're- you know."
The shadows on Megan's face remained unchanged. If she did know she didn't show it.
Princess had little else to show for her own posturing but a sudden lunge forward. Barely energetic, barely even motion. Toppling in the direction her legs could carry her- a trust fall, in some sense. She threw herself at her friend and hoped that, all momentum resolved, their arms would be around one another and a scent besides death would be invading Princess' thoughts. She'd had a crush on Megan once. In hindsight- all the denial of her sexuality aside. Old flame could still burn bright if given a zephyr to feed on. Here Princess was, tossing herself into the wind.
Violet isn't even in the ground yet.
A search of Megan's soft eyes, weak lip, turned up nothing except for the desolate stretch of empty space between them. The color of her eyes was difficult to pick out, perhaps nothing more than a mirage under the glare of the tropical sun. Memories filed by the tiny shriveled thing her self-concept had become, unbidden. Placid nights in the odds-and-ends corners of Chattanooga, and the sense that they were somehow individually alone despite being together. The complex dance of Megan's hand over the piano set in her home, and the disquieting sensation that Princess wasn't supposed to be watching even when she'd been explicitly invited. The first time around those sounds had only barely registered as anything besides ethereal- the tiniest grooves of a phonograph's disc. Time only made them sound even more distant, displaced in time than they'd already been.
"... I-" She'd heard Megan out, and hadn't cared much for what she'd heard. "I'm a hypocrite, because I hate to hear what I just said coming out of your mouth now."
Megan blinked slower. Morse code gibberish. No less tension was involved, keeping her expression on the right side of an emotional cliff.
"It's one thing to abstractify it to yourself. But- but saying it out loud. Makes it sound so stupid."
And Megan's smile evolved, infinitesimally. Maybe Megan had something to say. A rebuttal. A promise. Empty like air. Air going up the wrong pipe, rather than down.
"It's gross that all the value left in our lives is in their swift ends."
She was talking too much. Again. Megan watched her watching her watching her. Princess couldn't make out much of the specifics of Megan's face. Lens flare.
"Maybe we should be proud, at least... That we're- you know."
The shadows on Megan's face remained unchanged. If she did know she didn't show it.
Princess had little else to show for her own posturing but a sudden lunge forward. Barely energetic, barely even motion. Toppling in the direction her legs could carry her- a trust fall, in some sense. She threw herself at her friend and hoped that, all momentum resolved, their arms would be around one another and a scent besides death would be invading Princess' thoughts. She'd had a crush on Megan once. In hindsight- all the denial of her sexuality aside. Old flame could still burn bright if given a zephyr to feed on. Here Princess was, tossing herself into the wind.
Violet isn't even in the ground yet.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
hi Princess bye Princess don't worry about Megan she’s fine no really she’s fine no don't look at her do not look at her just let her disappear bit by bit until nobody knows her anymore and she can die without making so much as a ripple. But please don’t let her die like that, no matter how hard she tries.
Like. Just. Don’t listen to Megan. Yes, she can’t let anyone get close for fear of hurting them. But she'd hoped against hope, hadn't she, hot mess that she is. She'd asked for talons in her chest, the whispered voice and the iron grip around her wrist, saying no, no you cannot go. Blaise would’ve said something like that, once upon a time. Stay close. Stay in line. And Megan would say things, of course she would say feverish and desperate things, but it would all be futile. If that’s the only way that Megan could allow for someone to notice her when she passed away then so fucking be it.
Only here came Princess into her arms--Princess, collapsed in her arms, clinging to her, holding her, and yes Princess was an actress and yes she was very very good but Megan could feel the beating of Princess's heart next to hers. Megan, how do you think your way out of this one? Princess was like her. She’d said as much.
“I…”
Megan’s brain was mush. She tightened her arms around Princess. No one else had ever convinced Megan that they wanted to stay, even when they had stayed. Her breath came ragged. God, Megan really was stupid.
"I-I was going to. Almost killed myself. Multiple times."
Megan sniffled. Held on tight to the only person here who wanted her, the only girl who needed to be held even as she held Megan.
"But here I am."
She’d never thought she would be able to make this choice and live with herself.
Like. Just. Don’t listen to Megan. Yes, she can’t let anyone get close for fear of hurting them. But she'd hoped against hope, hadn't she, hot mess that she is. She'd asked for talons in her chest, the whispered voice and the iron grip around her wrist, saying no, no you cannot go. Blaise would’ve said something like that, once upon a time. Stay close. Stay in line. And Megan would say things, of course she would say feverish and desperate things, but it would all be futile. If that’s the only way that Megan could allow for someone to notice her when she passed away then so fucking be it.
Only here came Princess into her arms--Princess, collapsed in her arms, clinging to her, holding her, and yes Princess was an actress and yes she was very very good but Megan could feel the beating of Princess's heart next to hers. Megan, how do you think your way out of this one? Princess was like her. She’d said as much.
“I…”
Megan’s brain was mush. She tightened her arms around Princess. No one else had ever convinced Megan that they wanted to stay, even when they had stayed. Her breath came ragged. God, Megan really was stupid.
"I-I was going to. Almost killed myself. Multiple times."
Megan sniffled. Held on tight to the only person here who wanted her, the only girl who needed to be held even as she held Megan.
"But here I am."
She’d never thought she would be able to make this choice and live with herself.
Megan had presence for being such a small girl.
"I was thinking about it too."
Could have been such a beautiful, such a poignant, such a tragic, uplifting, heartening, inspiring, immaculate, heart-rending, Oscar-worthy, critic winning, box-office smashing, standing ovation necessitating moment if Princess hadn't been so vaguely turned on.
"I'm glad we're both that indecisive. 'Least."
She smelled like rot, for christs' sake. They all did. It pervaded the clothes and the brains under those clothes.
"I- fuck it. It would be so nice if the reason didn't matter for once? If we didn't have to ask why?"
Princess breathed unevenly, her nostrils a bit flattened. She kind of hated that there was a shirt in the way. She hated herself more, of course. Apparently this travesty of characterization was what she'd decided was worth her eighteen years of stumblingly forward momentum. Desperation and longing. How trite. She wondered if Violet was a voyeur, per chance. Polyamory was a thing millennials did. Right?
She just wanted to feel something, god dammit.
"I was thinking about it too."
Could have been such a beautiful, such a poignant, such a tragic, uplifting, heartening, inspiring, immaculate, heart-rending, Oscar-worthy, critic winning, box-office smashing, standing ovation necessitating moment if Princess hadn't been so vaguely turned on.
"I'm glad we're both that indecisive. 'Least."
She smelled like rot, for christs' sake. They all did. It pervaded the clothes and the brains under those clothes.
"I- fuck it. It would be so nice if the reason didn't matter for once? If we didn't have to ask why?"
Princess breathed unevenly, her nostrils a bit flattened. She kind of hated that there was a shirt in the way. She hated herself more, of course. Apparently this travesty of characterization was what she'd decided was worth her eighteen years of stumblingly forward momentum. Desperation and longing. How trite. She wondered if Violet was a voyeur, per chance. Polyamory was a thing millennials did. Right?
She just wanted to feel something, god dammit.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
If either of them had been decisive then the other wouldn't have had anyone to stop them. A touch of martyrdom, the specter of uselessness. Megan blinked. She was too feeble to hug Princess any harder than she already was, but still, she held her closer.
Megan felt Princess shift in her arms, somehow burrowing herself further into Megan, and Megan swallowed. She had never been much good at reading signs. Or rather, never had the confidence to believe what she was reading. Megan couldn't tell if it was her heart or Princess's heart that was speeding up, if what Princess was doing and what she was doing meant something or not. What they had was enough for her, either way. She didn't dare think about it.
Now it was Megan's turn to not be able to see Princess's face. Nothing but sweat and dirt and warmth in her arms, filling her senses. Megan swayed back and forth, rhythmic and gentle, humming something soft and tuneless before trailing off.
"Why what?" Megan asked softly. "Anything happens?"
To think that Megan was thinking of ways to leave so that she could avoid hurting Princess. She was crying. She was allowed to, now.
Megan felt Princess shift in her arms, somehow burrowing herself further into Megan, and Megan swallowed. She had never been much good at reading signs. Or rather, never had the confidence to believe what she was reading. Megan couldn't tell if it was her heart or Princess's heart that was speeding up, if what Princess was doing and what she was doing meant something or not. What they had was enough for her, either way. She didn't dare think about it.
Now it was Megan's turn to not be able to see Princess's face. Nothing but sweat and dirt and warmth in her arms, filling her senses. Megan swayed back and forth, rhythmic and gentle, humming something soft and tuneless before trailing off.
"Why what?" Megan asked softly. "Anything happens?"
To think that Megan was thinking of ways to leave so that she could avoid hurting Princess. She was crying. She was allowed to, now.
Moment passed. Mostly. Hormones stung like chemical gas- blistering left to ferment, after the fact. Princess could in the third-person appreciate the brief lapse in her better (?) self that could have reduced her to an America's Funniest clip. A show she'd never admit she watched more than was befitting her stereotyping- she'd blame her mother's control of the home's too-small and too-old and too-few-channels TV, if under duress.
And even in her moment of weakness she hadn't been any amount of forwardly untoward. Megan remained about as chaste as she'd likely been since birth. All Princess had to do now was carefully extract herself before the hummingbird wings of her heart spontaneously ended with her forfeiting the rest of it to Megan's side of their briefly shared skin.
"I, um." Princess giggled, tension escaped that way, perhaps more because nervous manic hysteria than because she'd finally derived the punchline out of her existential joke of an existence. Simpering schoolgirl-like, in affectation. As if she couldn't have hated herself for being a teenager anymore than she did by default.
"That, yeah. I was just thinking we're both too prone to it. It's probably unhealthy, being too self-aware."
Oh. That was awfully self-presumptuous of her. It had been a while since she'd acted in character!
Her hands briefly braced around Megan's shoulders, sinking through scarce flesh into bone with forearms crossed, Pharaoh-like, over Megan's back. Leverage needed to split them up- Princess being the taller, she'd sort of rolled up into a ball to get her illicit hit of Megan's pheromones and sadness. Belatedly she noted the actually fairly agonizing deep ache in her lower back, like a knot wound around the discs of her spine. Funny that, she'd spent so long being a walking abstraction she'd forgotten she had a physical body's worth of pain and decay too. Her feet, at least, felt tough. She'd worked off the rot of civilization and pretense once softening that now leather-supple flesh. Shame it hadn't worked out for the rest of her assortment of self, body or mind.
"Mmm..." She brought up her hands, gently began to trace patterns into them with Megan's tears. Nonsense shapes, glistening as the emotion found its dead end in a friend. "Go ahead." Brief, almost dismissive in tone. Affectionately so- this at least, had never really changed.
And even in her moment of weakness she hadn't been any amount of forwardly untoward. Megan remained about as chaste as she'd likely been since birth. All Princess had to do now was carefully extract herself before the hummingbird wings of her heart spontaneously ended with her forfeiting the rest of it to Megan's side of their briefly shared skin.
"I, um." Princess giggled, tension escaped that way, perhaps more because nervous manic hysteria than because she'd finally derived the punchline out of her existential joke of an existence. Simpering schoolgirl-like, in affectation. As if she couldn't have hated herself for being a teenager anymore than she did by default.
"That, yeah. I was just thinking we're both too prone to it. It's probably unhealthy, being too self-aware."
Oh. That was awfully self-presumptuous of her. It had been a while since she'd acted in character!
Her hands briefly braced around Megan's shoulders, sinking through scarce flesh into bone with forearms crossed, Pharaoh-like, over Megan's back. Leverage needed to split them up- Princess being the taller, she'd sort of rolled up into a ball to get her illicit hit of Megan's pheromones and sadness. Belatedly she noted the actually fairly agonizing deep ache in her lower back, like a knot wound around the discs of her spine. Funny that, she'd spent so long being a walking abstraction she'd forgotten she had a physical body's worth of pain and decay too. Her feet, at least, felt tough. She'd worked off the rot of civilization and pretense once softening that now leather-supple flesh. Shame it hadn't worked out for the rest of her assortment of self, body or mind.
"Mmm..." She brought up her hands, gently began to trace patterns into them with Megan's tears. Nonsense shapes, glistening as the emotion found its dead end in a friend. "Go ahead." Brief, almost dismissive in tone. Affectionately so- this at least, had never really changed.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
Princess unfolded herself from Megan, pushing herself free with a motion that almost pulled Megan off-balance, and her face, when Megan saw it, was back to normal. Princess the actress, careful and aware, once again cold and invulnerable.
Go ahead. Don't worry about me. We're here for you, because of you.
"Princess," Megan's voice didn't shake, exactly. Or maybe it shook evenly enough that it didn't sound broken. "Tell me. Please."
It would make too much sense for Princess to take away what she had just given Megan in a futile attempt to protect Megan's little heart.
"How am I supposed to--how can I be useful when I can't--if you won't--"
Megan's hand drifted back over, found Princess's. Wiped them clean of her own tears. A slight tug, no more.
"Um. This sounds melodramatic, but." Megan cracked a smile. Good to know that in-jokes still worked."I thought the world--my friends, really--would be better off without me. Like I didn't matter to anyone in a way that was good. Good for them."
And, well.
Go ahead. Don't worry about me. We're here for you, because of you.
"Princess," Megan's voice didn't shake, exactly. Or maybe it shook evenly enough that it didn't sound broken. "Tell me. Please."
It would make too much sense for Princess to take away what she had just given Megan in a futile attempt to protect Megan's little heart.
"How am I supposed to--how can I be useful when I can't--if you won't--"
Megan's hand drifted back over, found Princess's. Wiped them clean of her own tears. A slight tug, no more.
"Um. This sounds melodramatic, but." Megan cracked a smile. Good to know that in-jokes still worked."I thought the world--my friends, really--would be better off without me. Like I didn't matter to anyone in a way that was good. Good for them."
And, well.
Megan's voice was maracas. Fragments, stirred smooth.
"I think, I feel, like we've had this conversation before." Odd how the end of the whole universe, the bubble of reality centered around their petty selves busily imploding what with the gnawing hunger and tiresome thirst, seemed to pin no further gravity onto her shoulders than this usual discussion point ever would. Blah blah Megan was falling through the cracks of self-dignity, blah blah blah Princess theoretically but not actually understood and sympathized. Stanza, false coda, repeat. Princess held Megan by the thumbs, nested deep into her palms.
"It's hard to get worth out of people. Past few days we've really just seen most of our classmates take on a negative social value... Myself included, inevitably." A sigh. Sensory overload. Their hands were greasy, worming together like eels, all the sweat and the tears turned a particularly shoddy grade oil. Engine overheating, as Princess gripped on a little too tight.
Dammit. Let go, as her conscious sorted out the mess.
"We don't really have anything to fight for. Not anymore. Hm. Guess what... I'm trying to say is we don't need it."
But that wasn't good enough. Absence demanded substance, of any sort. And no, it couldn't be mindless primacy. Princess already felt too ashamed and self-conscious to keep going down that particular route. A shake of her forearms shifted both their hands in tandem. She'd been trying to signal something, but what it was she didn't know. Gestures were useless without meaning. Went without saying.
"Somehow I'd still fight for you though. It matters that much." Princess was smiling too. She already wondered if Megan had a place among the other hunters of killers, pursuers of clout.
Realistically, she did not. But Princess didn't either, yet there she was. Dammit, Kate didn't deserve to be burdened with someone like her.
"Might be about time we start running away from our problems again. Could work out better this time?"
"I think, I feel, like we've had this conversation before." Odd how the end of the whole universe, the bubble of reality centered around their petty selves busily imploding what with the gnawing hunger and tiresome thirst, seemed to pin no further gravity onto her shoulders than this usual discussion point ever would. Blah blah Megan was falling through the cracks of self-dignity, blah blah blah Princess theoretically but not actually understood and sympathized. Stanza, false coda, repeat. Princess held Megan by the thumbs, nested deep into her palms.
"It's hard to get worth out of people. Past few days we've really just seen most of our classmates take on a negative social value... Myself included, inevitably." A sigh. Sensory overload. Their hands were greasy, worming together like eels, all the sweat and the tears turned a particularly shoddy grade oil. Engine overheating, as Princess gripped on a little too tight.
Dammit. Let go, as her conscious sorted out the mess.
"We don't really have anything to fight for. Not anymore. Hm. Guess what... I'm trying to say is we don't need it."
But that wasn't good enough. Absence demanded substance, of any sort. And no, it couldn't be mindless primacy. Princess already felt too ashamed and self-conscious to keep going down that particular route. A shake of her forearms shifted both their hands in tandem. She'd been trying to signal something, but what it was she didn't know. Gestures were useless without meaning. Went without saying.
"Somehow I'd still fight for you though. It matters that much." Princess was smiling too. She already wondered if Megan had a place among the other hunters of killers, pursuers of clout.
Realistically, she did not. But Princess didn't either, yet there she was. Dammit, Kate didn't deserve to be burdened with someone like her.
"Might be about time we start running away from our problems again. Could work out better this time?"
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes:
"I-"
There was still that tingling breathless feeling, like the life had been breathed back into Megan, maybe a little too much life, like Megan was hurting from being too alive. It was fading, of course. She hadn't really expected it to stay, wasn't even sure that it had been real. But she had felt it, when Princess had pressed herself against Megan. The only reminder she had of it now, the only proof that yes, she had felt it, was in Princess's fingers, tangled up in Megan's, tight in a way that stopped just short of squeezing the feeling out of Megan's. Megan held on.
The way the feeling left her hurt almost as much as the way it had come in. She was a ghost girl again.
"Please."
She was worthleess again. She couldn't even go and kill herself now, was the thing.
"'Can i fight for you, then? i think that would make me really happy and make me feel less like a problem that you have to run away from."
Megan kept her eyes low, her head down. She couldn't stand to look Princess in the eyes right now.
"I don't know what you'v done or seen to make you feel worthless, but, like, you kind of saved my life right now. I think I was. Uh. Less indecisive than you. So that's something."
Megan smiled a little. Willed it to be kind.
There was still that tingling breathless feeling, like the life had been breathed back into Megan, maybe a little too much life, like Megan was hurting from being too alive. It was fading, of course. She hadn't really expected it to stay, wasn't even sure that it had been real. But she had felt it, when Princess had pressed herself against Megan. The only reminder she had of it now, the only proof that yes, she had felt it, was in Princess's fingers, tangled up in Megan's, tight in a way that stopped just short of squeezing the feeling out of Megan's. Megan held on.
The way the feeling left her hurt almost as much as the way it had come in. She was a ghost girl again.
"Please."
She was worthleess again. She couldn't even go and kill herself now, was the thing.
"'Can i fight for you, then? i think that would make me really happy and make me feel less like a problem that you have to run away from."
Megan kept her eyes low, her head down. She couldn't stand to look Princess in the eyes right now.
"I don't know what you'v done or seen to make you feel worthless, but, like, you kind of saved my life right now. I think I was. Uh. Less indecisive than you. So that's something."
Megan smiled a little. Willed it to be kind.
The connection between them remained no stronger. Whatever had drawn the line between them thick and high as a wall remained convincingly opaque. Maybe herself, maybe Megan by proxy through Princess' own niggling reservations. Even the implication that Megan had been just shy of being ready to kill herself, to make good on however many years of that eerie miasma that had always followed her around like her own shadow, that particular form of plot twist but off-script and actually real, Princess weathered that with her usual maybe-false bravado.
Bravery was the wrong word, rather.
"I meant we run away together. It'd be a more uplifting thing to do than whatever we're trying to typecast ourselves as now." The constant running away. She'd abandoned Claudeson, Thomas, and perhaps now was angling to abandon Katelynne all under similar pretenses. Some sense that she hadn't found... purpose. If that was the right word for her inability to commit.
She kept trying to throw away the book when she didn't like the development. Realistically every book was written about the same way. Genre pulp.
"Not a good look when it's my indecisiveness that is keeping us tethered to earth."
It might feel better to just... stop. For once in her life, to let go of the pretense? However that even worked? With an audience not named Lucas Diaz, anyhow.
"Maybe it's time I be honest with you as well. Or, uh. Myself? Hard to work it out, see, there's quite a mess of it stirring up my own skull."
Those key words seemed to trigger something inside that poorly shaped and dented piece of bone and brain. The haze of her mind began to dominate. It might have been a conceit prior- some form of pretending she was wasting away to justify inaction. Psychosomatic maybe, her reality following her well-educated delusions. She needed to sit down. The brightness at the edge of her vision encroached- the sun was getting too close, all of a sudden. Intruding on her private space, some overly masculine energy that bulged into her grey matter and set everything to sear and char and bubble like eggs turning too crispy.
"The worst part of it is I tried to come clean to someone else but it was embarrassing and, honestly, he was also one of those try-hard fuckasses. Like me, say."
Princess felt her grip weaken. Slackness radiated out from her knuckles as they softened, then followed the wrist.
"Oh... I- I need to sit down, I don't feel..." Hot. She felt too hot. And not in that confident, beaming way she had an odd moment of wishing she could project. She felt clammy and gross. Didn't really translate the same way outwardly- her narrow lips sagged into a grimace, as her eyes swam with the sudden overabundance of sickly heat. She tugged ever so lightly on Megan's arm. The tiniest voiced plea for help, as Princess began to wonder what direction the sky was- it was a bit too much in every direction at once, all of a sudden.
Bravery was the wrong word, rather.
"I meant we run away together. It'd be a more uplifting thing to do than whatever we're trying to typecast ourselves as now." The constant running away. She'd abandoned Claudeson, Thomas, and perhaps now was angling to abandon Katelynne all under similar pretenses. Some sense that she hadn't found... purpose. If that was the right word for her inability to commit.
She kept trying to throw away the book when she didn't like the development. Realistically every book was written about the same way. Genre pulp.
"Not a good look when it's my indecisiveness that is keeping us tethered to earth."
It might feel better to just... stop. For once in her life, to let go of the pretense? However that even worked? With an audience not named Lucas Diaz, anyhow.
"Maybe it's time I be honest with you as well. Or, uh. Myself? Hard to work it out, see, there's quite a mess of it stirring up my own skull."
Those key words seemed to trigger something inside that poorly shaped and dented piece of bone and brain. The haze of her mind began to dominate. It might have been a conceit prior- some form of pretending she was wasting away to justify inaction. Psychosomatic maybe, her reality following her well-educated delusions. She needed to sit down. The brightness at the edge of her vision encroached- the sun was getting too close, all of a sudden. Intruding on her private space, some overly masculine energy that bulged into her grey matter and set everything to sear and char and bubble like eggs turning too crispy.
"The worst part of it is I tried to come clean to someone else but it was embarrassing and, honestly, he was also one of those try-hard fuckasses. Like me, say."
Princess felt her grip weaken. Slackness radiated out from her knuckles as they softened, then followed the wrist.
"Oh... I- I need to sit down, I don't feel..." Hot. She felt too hot. And not in that confident, beaming way she had an odd moment of wishing she could project. She felt clammy and gross. Didn't really translate the same way outwardly- her narrow lips sagged into a grimace, as her eyes swam with the sudden overabundance of sickly heat. She tugged ever so lightly on Megan's arm. The tiniest voiced plea for help, as Princess began to wonder what direction the sky was- it was a bit too much in every direction at once, all of a sudden.
V8 Vibes:
V7 Vibes: