Guy Cecil ☼ [Gᴀɪʟᴀʀᴅɪᴀ•Gᴀʟᴀɴ•Gᴀʀᴅɪᴏs] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
relinquishing) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2013-04-12 05:07 pm
relinquishing) wrote in towerofanimus2013-04-12 05:07 pm
Entry tags:
To live and keep on living (Closed)
Characters: Guy Cecil and Asch the Bloody
Setting: Floor 100
When: Backdated to April 6th
Format: Action
Summary: Two emotionally-repressed guys talking about death. This should go over well.
Warnings: Just general distress and angst. Will update if there's anything else.
[It was becoming something frightening and undesirable. Not that death wasn't already something Guy wanted to avoid with his entire being. But this place, twisted as it was with its process of revival, had made death an even more horrific experience than Guy had ever wanted it to be.
Four times in four months, not counting the times he had vividly died in his dreams. He could recall the first three with an intense clarity, especially the second - one which made him shudder and curl up on himself to even think about. But this fourth time... it had been an accident. A stupid, stupid accident; he'd assumed it was safe, he'd assumed that they would be alright stepping onto a floor just because it might have been similar to one of the other safer floors. But feeling sleep dragging him to death had been almost as unnerving as any of his other deaths - he had wondered if he was dying, even as he dreamed... but didn't realize that was what had actually happened, for both himself and Ion, until he had awoken in his bed.
Forty minutes of paralysis. Forty minutes to sit and swear at himself for being such an idiot, unable to move or talk or look at who else was in the room or even care at that point. Ion... the poor kid. It was only his first day, and look at what had happened...
It was just as it had been when he had returned from Auldrant. Guy felt his composure slipping, his mind racing more on the thoughts of guilt, of his death, on "what if I slip one more time and never wake up". The first few days after his revival... he couldn't push those thoughts back. His projects in the workshop were ignored and the maid work throughout the dormitories was sluggish.
It had come to haunt him now. He couldn't get death off his mind.
So the blonde had taken to finding places of seclusion, to let himself be alone with his thoughts and slice some monsters open if he couldn't manage. Sometimes it was the caverns. Sometimes the lagoon.
Today, it was this floor. Empty until one stepped foot onto it. And Guy sat here, cross-legged on the floor with his blade casually tossed to the side, arms crossed tightly against himself, surrounded by holographic images of that which he missed most - the isle of Hod and the people who lived on it. Every once in a while someone would approach, and he'd raise a hand in greeting, only to hesitate, grimace, and clench his fist back towards his chest.
It was enough of a flashback to make him fight a horrid, burning sensation in his core, his throat knotted up. But he pushed it back. He had to push it back. This was his reminder - of all he had lost, and all he had to live for.
He couldn't die again. He just couldn't.]
Setting: Floor 100
When: Backdated to April 6th
Format: Action
Summary: Two emotionally-repressed guys talking about death. This should go over well.
Warnings: Just general distress and angst. Will update if there's anything else.
[It was becoming something frightening and undesirable. Not that death wasn't already something Guy wanted to avoid with his entire being. But this place, twisted as it was with its process of revival, had made death an even more horrific experience than Guy had ever wanted it to be.
Four times in four months, not counting the times he had vividly died in his dreams. He could recall the first three with an intense clarity, especially the second - one which made him shudder and curl up on himself to even think about. But this fourth time... it had been an accident. A stupid, stupid accident; he'd assumed it was safe, he'd assumed that they would be alright stepping onto a floor just because it might have been similar to one of the other safer floors. But feeling sleep dragging him to death had been almost as unnerving as any of his other deaths - he had wondered if he was dying, even as he dreamed... but didn't realize that was what had actually happened, for both himself and Ion, until he had awoken in his bed.
Forty minutes of paralysis. Forty minutes to sit and swear at himself for being such an idiot, unable to move or talk or look at who else was in the room or even care at that point. Ion... the poor kid. It was only his first day, and look at what had happened...
It was just as it had been when he had returned from Auldrant. Guy felt his composure slipping, his mind racing more on the thoughts of guilt, of his death, on "what if I slip one more time and never wake up". The first few days after his revival... he couldn't push those thoughts back. His projects in the workshop were ignored and the maid work throughout the dormitories was sluggish.
It had come to haunt him now. He couldn't get death off his mind.
So the blonde had taken to finding places of seclusion, to let himself be alone with his thoughts and slice some monsters open if he couldn't manage. Sometimes it was the caverns. Sometimes the lagoon.
Today, it was this floor. Empty until one stepped foot onto it. And Guy sat here, cross-legged on the floor with his blade casually tossed to the side, arms crossed tightly against himself, surrounded by holographic images of that which he missed most - the isle of Hod and the people who lived on it. Every once in a while someone would approach, and he'd raise a hand in greeting, only to hesitate, grimace, and clench his fist back towards his chest.
It was enough of a flashback to make him fight a horrid, burning sensation in his core, his throat knotted up. But he pushed it back. He had to push it back. This was his reminder - of all he had lost, and all he had to live for.
He couldn't die again. He just couldn't.]
no subject
[It's enough to break his composure for a moment - good job placing that knife, Guy - but ultimately, he doesn't relent.]
I shouldn't have to be constantly guessing what you think of me. What do I have to do to get even that little bit of honesty out of you? How many hoops do I have to jump through to get something, anything genuine out of you?
no subject
[It's a bitter mutter under his breath, tucked under that bittersweet smile that Asch loved to hate so much.]
If you really want an answer for something, just get over yourself and ask. Why does it have to be anything other than that?
[He exhales sharply, his smile quickly turning into another grimace.] Sorry that you think it's a giant guessing game, but you're making this way more complicated than it has to be.
no subject
How is it making things complicated to want things to be simpler?
no subject
[He huffs, turning away again.]
If you want to ask something, just ask it, for Yulia's sake. But if you're gonna keep running in circles about this, then forget it. We don't have anything else to talk about.
no subject
[He's frustrated, he feels like Guy is talking to him like he's a little kid, and it shows in his voice.]
Then tell me - all that time when we were "friends" as children - was that a lie, too?
no subject
But hey. Asch asked.
So he exhales slowly, staring back at that slice of the ocean crashing against white rocks.]
...It wasn't a lie. Even if I wanted it to be a lie, it wasn't much of one.
[They spent enough time around each other. Even when Guy hated the child's guts and wanted him dead, there were still those moments of childish camaraderie - sometimes for show, and sometimes more genuine, depending on Van's presence and the pushing of the Duke himself.
There's a pause. His voice hardens.]
I just don't know what kind of friends you expected us to be. If you thought we were best friends... then no, sorry. We weren't.
no subject
It's something that Guy doesn't seem to understand. There's a small sigh.]
Maybe not for you.
[But for the kid who had the small world of the nobility, and no reason to suspect that Guy would ever want to hurt him? Really, Guy, you always seem so surprised that he wants to be around you - try putting yourself in his shoes a little.]
no subject
And what the hell do you expect me to do about that now?
The you that everyone remembered was considered dead and lost. That hasn't changed, even if you are here. You might still be alive, but you can't go expecting friendship and trust to just show up when other people have moved on.
[It was cruel. But it was still true.]
no subject
...I wanted to know. That's all.
[No, he needed to know, because he's not someone who can give up on the past with so much left hanging. It's like trying to start a book when you haven't finished the one you were reading before - some people can do it, but other people can't sort out their thoughts until they reach a conclusion. Asch is one of the latter, and even if it's year late, Guy has finally given him the epilogue.
He knows where he stands, so he can start moving again.]
no subject
..That's an odd thing to want to know.
[He sighs raggedly.]
Well. You're welcome, I guess.
no subject
[Because, Guy, didn't you just go over how frustrated Asch is with not knowing where he stands with you? You kept wanting him to ask and he bloody well asked. Sorry that he's not Luke with his proclamations of not needing a past - he needed to figure this out before he could let go.]
no subject
[Yeah, it still hasn't clicked. It's just a roundabout way to say I don't get why you care if I'm your friend or not.
Although he knows. He knows why Asch cares. Especially if Guy was one of his only friends... to lose that on top of everything else must have been hurtful to him.
But Guy really didn't know how much he should care. Not outside just, hopefully, understanding Asch's motive. Because he can't believe that it's just "I wanted us to be friends."]
no subject
["You can't understand the present without understanding the past" was beaten into his head by history tutors as a child, as cliche as it is, and it hasn't failed him yet. If he'd never met Guy again, that would have been one thing - but they're both here, now, and are going to presumably be here for a while. That means that Asch needs to figure out how to deal with him, which means wanting to know those kinds of things.]
Maybe I just wanted some closure.
no subject
[He glances towards the redhead out of the corner of his eye, expression inherently curious for once. Closure... that's not a word he really thought he'd hear out of someone like Asch.
Maybe he really was trying.]
So, did you get any?
hurp late
[Time will tell. His shoulders are a little slumped, which is as close as he ever comes to having his guard down. If Guy has actually given up on revenge, then he can trust the man that far.]
a redhead is never late, nor is he early, etc etc
He hums quietly, a dry and noncommittal sound, glancing over at the slump of the redhead's figure with brows raised.]
So, what are you going to do now?
no subject
[Not the answer Guy is looking for, he's sure. But truth be told, Asch hasn't decided about the rest, yet.]
You're welcome to come along, if you're done moping.
[Can't resist the chance to dig a little, can you.]
no subject
Maybe some other time. Thanks, though.
[It's genuine, but the weight on his words is tiring and still evident. Sorry, Asch, he'd make a crack at the moping comment if it were just childish moping he was up to.
He'd love for that to be it, sure, but...]
no subject
[Or he will actually come after you, because that is a stupid death. Nothing more to say, Asch turns and leaves Guy to his thoughts, his footsteps still making the wrong sound on the floor of the illusion's courtyard.]
no subject
[Guy calls it out over his shoulder, but he doesn't expect a response. He just settles back, his legs drawn closer to him as he rests his chin on his knees.
Just a little longer. He'd move on. Sometime.
But not right now. The wound of a thought he'd entered with was now a bit of a gaping hole - a mess of anger at Asch and himself. Mostly himself. There was no closure when it came to death. He'd known that before coming here, and he knew it deeply now. Maybe that's what made this so incredibly difficult.
Just a little longer. Just enough to get his mind back on track.
Then he'd move on.]