[ But... He'll be straightforward, because of who he's talking to. ]
It worked for awhile, but once I received No Longer Human, it no longer did. I found out quickly that my ability can kill people here...
[ His smile twitches along with his shoulders, just the faintest sign of displeasure, though he has neither love nor hatred for his ability on the whole, ]
It no longer works when I try to use it, so I do not believe that anyone else's would either. It's just like home.
[ And he does mind that for that odd cocktail of a taste of normalcy and a sudden awareness of his ability to harm, but it also doesn't, because his ability is as much a part of him as anything. It's just one more consideration, easily worked around. ]
[Muttered, focused. He's pressing cotton against Dazai's wound, as carefully as he would one of the orphans. For all of Dazai's suicide talk, Oda knows he doesn't like pain.
[For what it's worth, he doesn't seem to mind touching him at all.]
You'd think a place like this would come with a different set of rules. I guess not.
Honestly, I was a bit surprised that all we had to do to get our abilities back was ask. I have to admit, I was feeling pretty lost without mine.
[ It's gentle, but he's whining far worse than one of Odasaku's orphans would otherwise. But that's part of who he is. He hates the pain of living already, he can't handle much else, yet he grins and points to injuries that bring him closer to death; but then whines and cries about treatments with anyone who cares.
Always in and out of hospitals, but he chooses now to whine; it's cathartic, because Mori might have needed him, but Odasaku was the only one who had truly cared, ]
Ow, ow...!!
[ That said, he should be used to these dramatics. Dazai is truly the sort to cry more about a molehill than a mountain when given the chance.
But at least he won't whine too much now, his eyes instead remaining fixated on Oda's own blue spheres. ]
You were... If you were to combine your ability with your natural talents, you would be unmatched, Odasaku...
[ It's an intense stare, directly at him, but there's warmth to it.
Warmth that he's not quite sure how to follow up on, and so, ]
.. My new goal here... Is for you to make 800 friends.That's what I've decided on.
[ He settles on something completely ridiculous instead, despite him being almost perfectly serious on the matter (i.e. making odasaku friends but not that many.) ]
[Every time Dazai tries to lock their gazes, Odasaku complies. It seems like the right thing to do. He doesn't often get the chance to look at those eyes up close like this. They're a warmer brown than anyone would guess, Odasaku thinks.]
You've said as much before.
[The wound is cleaned. Odasaku gets a small bandage to apply.]
800 friends, huh? I don't think there are even 800 people in this town. Do you?
[The bandage is put in place. Oda's expression is rather flat, but that's usually the case.]
80 people is still pretty steep. You think I'm that lonely?
[He holds up a finger and goes to the sink to get warm water on a towel. Dazai is covered in blood now. He just needs to dab off his face a little...
[It might be strange. Even Oda realizes that it must be. But it does feel nice, the way he thought it would. He doesn't want to see Dazai bleed. It doesn't hurt to help each other. And it wouldn't be the first time...]
[ He's instinctively closing that eye now, more to avoid any remnant liquid than anything... Dazai isn't any stranger to others taking care of him, but it still feels surreal to have it be someone who hasn't tended to him in so many years. Between that and the question his expression falters, caught off guard, and he fidgets, no more sure of what to do now than he was years ago. ]
8, then...
[ He manages to hold aside from his restless fidgeting though, letting the blood be cleaned off his face.
800, to 80, to 8... The comment about how he doesn't want Odasaku to be lonely when he dies is there, but his lungs collapse and his chest compresses when he tries to say the words There's a breathy sound as he tries it, one that saves itself in a slight chuckle, ]
Well... You need someone to depend on, right? You need people who you can depend on, so I have to make sure you have someone! Like Maruki-san and BB-chan!
[ His voice starts low, uncertain, as though he's faltering on some idea, before picking up as he goes along, growing in pitch as his expression brightens. It would be wrong to call it fake, because it's what Dazai wants and believes. It's what he knows. ]
[If Odasaku senses any of Dazai's apprehension, he doesn't let it show. He's always been good at that too. In some ways, it doesn't surprise Odasaku, that it might bring out this side in Dazai. He sounds as young and uncertain as he did when they first met. Oda's heart aches for that too.
[There's no one in the world that he cherishes more than his dear friend.
[The blood is cleaned. Odasaku leans away, inspecting his friend.]
You can count Maruki-san down already, I think. We talk pretty regularly. I guess that makes BB-chan next on the list.
[ Dazai blinks, his vision a briefly blurring from the water, and rubs his eyes. He brushes his hair out of his face, rubs both his eyes once more out of instinct more than anything, then looks again. ]
BB-chan is next. There are others too. You don't have to worry about the Port Mafia anymore, so you can live your life freely here.
[ That's nothing they haven't discussed before, of course; it would need to come up over time.
And as ever, Dazai isn't quite sure of what it is that he wants to say, and so, ]
... You want a beautiful, sharp-witted woman, right? I'm going to find a beautiful woman to die with, so before that, I want you to have a wife, and friends who will support you.
[Odasaku has gotten so used to Dazai's talk of death that he seems to barely hear it. He does hear it, though. He doesn't like it, of course, to think of his friend, dead under any circumstances. No one likes to think of something like that.
[The conversation isn't truly about women. Dazai is hesitant to leave Odasaku behind. Odasaku feels the same. Maybe they were destined to be apart, but it's not what he wants. It's not what he'll ever want.
[These emotions well up inside of him like a wave, but it never crashes, just sinks back down. He's been watching his friend too long. Speaks, at last.]
I'm enjoying the time I have here with you. I'd rather worry about that other stuff later.
[ Well. That's true. He can't refute either point.
He sighs. ]
... I rolled off the bed, and half the bed came with me, and I don't know where a couple things went...
[ He's sulking a little now, but it does seem to be his displeasure with how he wound up banging his head, though this sort of ridiculous way of injuring himself is fairly in character. ]
Why is it that the human body is only paralyzed for a tiny fraction of the time it's asleep anyway? Seems like a pretty useless feature to me.
One, one of the legs broke, and it caused the other to come loose, so it's It's leaning to one side...
[ He places his hands in his lap and leans to one side himself to demonstrate.
It is exactly something out of a cartoon because it's only seconds later that there's a loud thump and clattering, which one would be correct to assume was the result of having the bed form of the leaning tower of pisa. ]
Here is fine...
[ He's just going to lean more and let gravity take him now, as one does. ]
We'll have to see if we can fix it in the morning. [This, said with a yawn. He holds up a finger and disappears into his room; returns with a pillow, which he tosses at Dazai's head, and a blanket, which he tosses at Dazai's feet.]
He catches the pillow when it's tossed to him. He sits up properly and crosses his legs, leaning forward as he holds it close to his chest. ]
It is. It's my favorite napping place.
[ He takes grips the edges of the pillows before stretching his arms out about his head with a noisy yawn. Then he brings it back to his torso, lolling his head to the side. ]
... Hey, Odasaku.
[ There it is, that same voice that he always uses before saying something strange. It's late, he woke up to banging his head and breaking furniture, so it was inevitable. ]
The fear of dying in a dream is a common sentiment, but so is the idea of an eternal sleep.
[ That's what death is, but it's not what he's referring to here; they both know that. ]
Snow White bit the poison apple, Sleeping Beauty touched her spindle, but neither died... They were put into a deep sleep. They dreamed a long dream. People transformed that into stories, but why is it so scary? If it were a nightmare I would understand...
[ But he's made his way onto the sofa by now if he wasn't before, pulling a blanket onto the edge, hugging a pillow to his chest and pressing his head down against the cushion as he observes the marks on the ceiling, ]
... But what if it's not a nightmare? What if it's not wandering through a manor with the sickening feeling that you can never go back? There's plenty of stories like that too... There's beings in which promise you "the refuge of dreams." Endless stairs, endless happiness, a sleep that just goes on and on until you die...
[ Dazai clutches the pillow a little closer, eyelids closing halfway, a frown appearing, ]
... Why is that horrific? Humans fear death, but as far as ways to die... Wouldn't you say that dying for a happy dream would be a benevolent way to die?
[ A grimace, the faintest hint of bitterness followed by a smile, ]
After all, life is just one long dream, isn't it...?
[These words would be non-sensical to anyone else, but Oda listens to every one. He never really frets over whether he understands what Dazai's saying. He just listens and offers what he has.
[This talk of fairytales makes him consider two things.]
If someone is condemned to a lifetime of nothing but peaceful sleep, then why not let them? When you ask yourself that question, the only real answer is that the people around them dislike it. It's not exactly fair. I think people may fear the deaths of others even more than they fear death for themselves.
That being said...
If a happy dream is a benevolent death, and life is nothing but a long dream...
Wouldn't living a happy life to its end be a benevolent death too?
[ It's a fool's errand to try to make sense of what Dazai says, because there is no sense to it; he says what he thinks, what makes sense to him, and that's that. He's like any other person in that sense, it's just that his manner of thinking is different.
That's likely a big part of why he gets along so well with Odasaku; the way he thinks is different, unconcerned with what's normal, and so their conversations have an easy flow to him. That's not to say that he looks down on people with conventional ways of thinking; he likes them just fine, but they can't hold a conversation with him.
His expression flattens into something more neutral, before he closes his eyes and smiles, laying lat and holding the pillow close to his chest. It's a mellow smile, unemotional, unreadable, but perhaps to present company...
Maybe...
There's a kind of melancholy to it. His hands folded around a pillow like a child, almost like a corpse with its hands folded over its chest in a coffin, except his fingers dig in and clutch it.
Wake me from this oxidizing dream.
His feelings haven't changed. ]
That's exactly... Paulo Coelho once said, "Love is a moment in life, a dream, and at times, a painful dream." But life is on the whole exactly the same. It is nothing but a dream, as brief or long as it might be.
[ Then death could be the end to a long, long dream... ]
But to other people that's a curse. I can understand stories where it's a nightmare, where something is killing you, but what's so scary about a long staircase; what's scary about a refuge of dreams? What's scary about a fake world? It might be scary for the people around you to see you sleep for longer and longer hours, but why is it scary to think about dying in a fake world? If it's a happy dream...
[ Dazai can't understand, because he only has nightmares. Nightmares of a moment in time, a snapshot in time, the day that he died. He doesn't sleep at night, but rather falls asleep at desks and on couches; he chokes down sake and deprives himself of sleep until dreams no longer come.
But he shares none of that, instead pulling the pillow down and looking to Oda with a smile warm, affectionate, happy, that twists into a grimace just briefly, ]
Wouldn't you say that a fleeting world of happiness is better than a lifetime of pain?
[Oda might struggle to pick up on someone's mood even with obvious changes in expression, but when it comes to Dazai, somehow, he's learned to pick up on the subtle things.
[Dazai is ever the crying child Oda first said he was. It's heartbreaking in that way that you can only allow something to be heartbreaking for a few seconds at a time. Who doesn't want peace for a dear friend? Dazai suffers. Oda knows he does.]
I'd have trouble answering that question. [His voice is quiet, thoughtful.]
Suppose...I've never thought all that much about happiness itself. I made it through day to day just fine most of the time. Maybe I figure that's all you can really ask for.
[Something occurs to him, and he falls quiet for another moment.]
[ He taps his temple, letting his arm rest over his eyes, covering out the light as he lays with his knees up. One rocks back and forth, starting to fall to the side before he brings it back up to click against the other. ]
The world doesn't really exist in the way that we think it does. Humans just developed sensory input in a way that allows the brain to piece together our own world. There are pieces of the world that we can't interact with, and there are things that don't match our perception of them.
[ Which isn't to say that there is no reality or descend into solipsism and nihilism, but rather at once an addition and a counterpoint to his previous assertion. People can be happy in a fake world. They can be happy in a dream world. They can be happy because the two aren't all that different.
It's academic jargon, but it is a way of affirming Odasaku's words. This isn't quite the world he yearns for most; it's too unstable, too erratic, something that he can't control and protect. It's one where everything can still be taken from him. But it's one where he can live.
He'd never thought about happiness all that much either. It seemed inconsequential to him. Dazai's life was always just Dazai's life; empty, gray, painful.
Dazai pauses to to collect his thoughts. Odasaku can't match Dazai's level of intellect and cunning any better than anyone else, but he's sharp; he's perceptive, one of the few people who have been able to so thoroughly trick Dazai, with a high perception and level of emotional intelligence that Dazai could never hope to match. It sometimes felt like Odasaku could perceive Dazai's feelings better than Dazai himself could ever hope to.
Dazai is a crying child; he's a lost child who finally found his house; he's a twenty-two year old boy who was far too intelligent to be able to interact with the world - a fact that he's leaned into more than away from. ]
I had a nice dream recently, [ He lifts his arm back up, gesturing vaguely, though his gaze stays on the ceiling, ] I didn't think that was possible for me anymore, it's been so many years.
[ There's a bubbling little laugh. It's pleasant, affectionate. Though it wasn't quite a dream either. He still hasn't seen a real one; there's only nightmares. There's only a moment in time, a memory, played on an endless loop - reach, grasp, find his grip empty; a red stain on his palm that blurs in and out of focus, the faint smell of smoke and the resounding silence, followed by a sound that he only recognizes after some time to be his own stifled sobs.
Not quite a dream, but just as ethereal and fleeting. ]
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no subject
I was almost wondering if it would. This place is bizarre beyond our imaginations. It's not necessarily an ability like the sort we have, so...
[He hesitates with the cotton just above the cut on Dazai's brow.]
Have you tested it?
1/2, cw: suicidal ideation
[ He's slumping forward in the manner of a man who's had his entire life ruined by a singular event. ]
But, nothing...
2/2
It worked for awhile, but once I received No Longer Human, it no longer did. I found out quickly that my ability can kill people here...
[ His smile twitches along with his shoulders, just the faintest sign of displeasure, though he has neither love nor hatred for his ability on the whole, ]
It no longer works when I try to use it, so I do not believe that anyone else's would either. It's just like home.
[ And he does mind that for that odd cocktail of a taste of normalcy and a sudden awareness of his ability to harm, but it also doesn't, because his ability is as much a part of him as anything. It's just one more consideration, easily worked around. ]
no subject
[Muttered, focused. He's pressing cotton against Dazai's wound, as carefully as he would one of the orphans. For all of Dazai's suicide talk, Oda knows he doesn't like pain.
[For what it's worth, he doesn't seem to mind touching him at all.]
You'd think a place like this would come with a different set of rules. I guess not.
Honestly, I was a bit surprised that all we had to do to get our abilities back was ask. I have to admit, I was feeling pretty lost without mine.
no subject
Always in and out of hospitals, but he chooses now to whine; it's cathartic, because Mori might have needed him, but Odasaku was the only one who had truly cared, ]
Ow, ow...!!
[ That said, he should be used to these dramatics. Dazai is truly the sort to cry more about a molehill than a mountain when given the chance.
But at least he won't whine too much now, his eyes instead remaining fixated on Oda's own blue spheres. ]
You were... If you were to combine your ability with your natural talents, you would be unmatched, Odasaku...
[ It's an intense stare, directly at him, but there's warmth to it.
Warmth that he's not quite sure how to follow up on, and so, ]
.. My new goal here... Is for you to make 800 friends.That's what I've decided on.
[ He settles on something completely ridiculous instead, despite him being almost perfectly serious on the matter (i.e. making odasaku friends but not that many.) ]
no subject
You've said as much before.
[The wound is cleaned. Odasaku gets a small bandage to apply.]
800 friends, huh? I don't think there are even 800 people in this town. Do you?
no subject
[ He says, somewhat sheepish... Is that too ambitious? As always, he really does seem to consider before offering a slight nod in acceptance. ]
80 people, then!
no subject
80 people is still pretty steep. You think I'm that lonely?
[He holds up a finger and goes to the sink to get warm water on a towel. Dazai is covered in blood now. He just needs to dab off his face a little...
[It might be strange. Even Oda realizes that it must be. But it does feel nice, the way he thought it would. He doesn't want to see Dazai bleed. It doesn't hurt to help each other. And it wouldn't be the first time...]
no subject
8, then...
[ He manages to hold aside from his restless fidgeting though, letting the blood be cleaned off his face.
800, to 80, to 8... The comment about how he doesn't want Odasaku to be lonely when he dies is there, but his lungs collapse and his chest compresses when he tries to say the words There's a breathy sound as he tries it, one that saves itself in a slight chuckle, ]
Well... You need someone to depend on, right? You need people who you can depend on, so I have to make sure you have someone! Like Maruki-san and BB-chan!
[ His voice starts low, uncertain, as though he's faltering on some idea, before picking up as he goes along, growing in pitch as his expression brightens. It would be wrong to call it fake, because it's what Dazai wants and believes. It's what he knows. ]
no subject
[There's no one in the world that he cherishes more than his dear friend.
[The blood is cleaned. Odasaku leans away, inspecting his friend.]
You can count Maruki-san down already, I think. We talk pretty regularly. I guess that makes BB-chan next on the list.
no subject
BB-chan is next. There are others too. You don't have to worry about the Port Mafia anymore, so you can live your life freely here.
[ That's nothing they haven't discussed before, of course; it would need to come up over time.
And as ever, Dazai isn't quite sure of what it is that he wants to say, and so, ]
... You want a beautiful, sharp-witted woman, right? I'm going to find a beautiful woman to die with, so before that, I want you to have a wife, and friends who will support you.
[ Plotting his life out seems simpler. ]
no subject
[The conversation isn't truly about women. Dazai is hesitant to leave Odasaku behind. Odasaku feels the same. Maybe they were destined to be apart, but it's not what he wants. It's not what he'll ever want.
[These emotions well up inside of him like a wave, but it never crashes, just sinks back down. He's been watching his friend too long. Speaks, at last.]
I'm enjoying the time I have here with you. I'd rather worry about that other stuff later.
no subject
Nothing has changed; they fell right back into the old familiar routine, but...
But these conversations seem just a little bit more difficult now. ]
You have to put your wife first, Odasaku.
[ He wags his finger, but doesn't seem inclined to push the matter any further. ]
Sorry for for waking you up.
no subject
[He tucks the contents of the first aid kit back in place and closes it up.]
It's not like I can't sleep in if I want to. Don't worry about it.
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He sighs. ]
... I rolled off the bed, and half the bed came with me, and I don't know where a couple things went...
[ He's sulking a little now, but it does seem to be his displeasure with how he wound up banging his head, though this sort of ridiculous way of injuring himself is fairly in character. ]
Why is it that the human body is only paralyzed for a tiny fraction of the time it's asleep anyway? Seems like a pretty useless feature to me.
no subject
[What he's picturing is not unlike a cartoon, with Dazai falling off the bed and the bed falling to pieces, possibly with a humorous sound effect.
[The corners of Oda's mouth tug.]
That sounds like something that would only happen to you. Maybe you should sleep on the couch tonight.
We can talk a while longer.
no subject
One, one of the legs broke, and it caused the other to come loose, so it's It's leaning to one side...
[ He places his hands in his lap and leans to one side himself to demonstrate.
It is exactly something out of a cartoon because it's only seconds later that there's a loud thump and clattering, which one would be correct to assume was the result of having the bed form of the leaning tower of pisa. ]
Here is fine...
[ He's just going to lean more and let gravity take him now, as one does. ]
no subject
We'll have to see if we can fix it in the morning. [This, said with a yawn. He holds up a finger and disappears into his room; returns with a pillow, which he tosses at Dazai's head, and a blanket, which he tosses at Dazai's feet.]
At least it's a comfortable couch.
no subject
He catches the pillow when it's tossed to him. He sits up properly and crosses his legs, leaning forward as he holds it close to his chest. ]
It is. It's my favorite napping place.
[ He takes grips the edges of the pillows before stretching his arms out about his head with a noisy yawn. Then he brings it back to his torso, lolling his head to the side. ]
... Hey, Odasaku.
[ There it is, that same voice that he always uses before saying something strange. It's late, he woke up to banging his head and breaking furniture, so it was inevitable. ]
no subject
Mhmm. I'm listening.
no subject
[ That's what death is, but it's not what he's referring to here; they both know that. ]
Snow White bit the poison apple, Sleeping Beauty touched her spindle, but neither died... They were put into a deep sleep. They dreamed a long dream. People transformed that into stories, but why is it so scary? If it were a nightmare I would understand...
[ But he's made his way onto the sofa by now if he wasn't before, pulling a blanket onto the edge, hugging a pillow to his chest and pressing his head down against the cushion as he observes the marks on the ceiling, ]
... But what if it's not a nightmare? What if it's not wandering through a manor with the sickening feeling that you can never go back? There's plenty of stories like that too... There's beings in which promise you "the refuge of dreams." Endless stairs, endless happiness, a sleep that just goes on and on until you die...
[ Dazai clutches the pillow a little closer, eyelids closing halfway, a frown appearing, ]
... Why is that horrific? Humans fear death, but as far as ways to die... Wouldn't you say that dying for a happy dream would be a benevolent way to die?
[ A grimace, the faintest hint of bitterness followed by a smile, ]
After all, life is just one long dream, isn't it...?
no subject
[This talk of fairytales makes him consider two things.]
If someone is condemned to a lifetime of nothing but peaceful sleep, then why not let them? When you ask yourself that question, the only real answer is that the people around them dislike it. It's not exactly fair. I think people may fear the deaths of others even more than they fear death for themselves.
That being said...
If a happy dream is a benevolent death, and life is nothing but a long dream...
Wouldn't living a happy life to its end be a benevolent death too?
takes out my beast icon for u only
That's likely a big part of why he gets along so well with Odasaku; the way he thinks is different, unconcerned with what's normal, and so their conversations have an easy flow to him. That's not to say that he looks down on people with conventional ways of thinking; he likes them just fine, but they can't hold a conversation with him.
His expression flattens into something more neutral, before he closes his eyes and smiles, laying lat and holding the pillow close to his chest. It's a mellow smile, unemotional, unreadable, but perhaps to present company...
Maybe...
There's a kind of melancholy to it. His hands folded around a pillow like a child, almost like a corpse with its hands folded over its chest in a coffin, except his fingers dig in and clutch it.
Wake me from this oxidizing dream.
His feelings haven't changed. ]
That's exactly... Paulo Coelho once said, "Love is a moment in life, a dream, and at times, a painful dream." But life is on the whole exactly the same. It is nothing but a dream, as brief or long as it might be.
[ Then death could be the end to a long, long dream... ]
But to other people that's a curse. I can understand stories where it's a nightmare, where something is killing you, but what's so scary about a long staircase; what's scary about a refuge of dreams? What's scary about a fake world? It might be scary for the people around you to see you sleep for longer and longer hours, but why is it scary to think about dying in a fake world? If it's a happy dream...
[ Dazai can't understand, because he only has nightmares. Nightmares of a moment in time, a snapshot in time, the day that he died. He doesn't sleep at night, but rather falls asleep at desks and on couches; he chokes down sake and deprives himself of sleep until dreams no longer come.
But he shares none of that, instead pulling the pillow down and looking to Oda with a smile warm, affectionate, happy, that twists into a grimace just briefly, ]
Wouldn't you say that a fleeting world of happiness is better than a lifetime of pain?
no subject
[Dazai is ever the crying child Oda first said he was. It's heartbreaking in that way that you can only allow something to be heartbreaking for a few seconds at a time. Who doesn't want peace for a dear friend? Dazai suffers. Oda knows he does.]
I'd have trouble answering that question. [His voice is quiet, thoughtful.]
Suppose...I've never thought all that much about happiness itself. I made it through day to day just fine most of the time. Maybe I figure that's all you can really ask for.
[Something occurs to him, and he falls quiet for another moment.]
This place...where we are now...
Is that like the refuge you're talking about?
no subject
[ He taps his temple, letting his arm rest over his eyes, covering out the light as he lays with his knees up. One rocks back and forth, starting to fall to the side before he brings it back up to click against the other. ]
The world doesn't really exist in the way that we think it does. Humans just developed sensory input in a way that allows the brain to piece together our own world. There are pieces of the world that we can't interact with, and there are things that don't match our perception of them.
[ Which isn't to say that there is no reality or descend into solipsism and nihilism, but rather at once an addition and a counterpoint to his previous assertion. People can be happy in a fake world. They can be happy in a dream world. They can be happy because the two aren't all that different.
It's academic jargon, but it is a way of affirming Odasaku's words. This isn't quite the world he yearns for most; it's too unstable, too erratic, something that he can't control and protect. It's one where everything can still be taken from him. But it's one where he can live.
He'd never thought about happiness all that much either. It seemed inconsequential to him. Dazai's life was always just Dazai's life; empty, gray, painful.
Dazai pauses to to collect his thoughts. Odasaku can't match Dazai's level of intellect and cunning any better than anyone else, but he's sharp; he's perceptive, one of the few people who have been able to so thoroughly trick Dazai, with a high perception and level of emotional intelligence that Dazai could never hope to match. It sometimes felt like Odasaku could perceive Dazai's feelings better than Dazai himself could ever hope to.
Dazai is a crying child; he's a lost child who finally found his house; he's a twenty-two year old boy who was far too intelligent to be able to interact with the world - a fact that he's leaned into more than away from. ]
I had a nice dream recently, [ He lifts his arm back up, gesturing vaguely, though his gaze stays on the ceiling, ] I didn't think that was possible for me anymore, it's been so many years.
[ There's a bubbling little laugh. It's pleasant, affectionate. Though it wasn't quite a dream either. He still hasn't seen a real one; there's only nightmares. There's only a moment in time, a memory, played on an endless loop - reach, grasp, find his grip empty; a red stain on his palm that blurs in and out of focus, the faint smell of smoke and the resounding silence, followed by a sound that he only recognizes after some time to be his own stifled sobs.
Not quite a dream, but just as ethereal and fleeting. ]
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evil icon from pan gomen
i started it with beastzai i have no room to judge
CRIES LMK IF U WANNA WRAP OR GO ON I AM EATING THIS
MAYHAPS... A LIL MORE... cw: suicide talk
OF COURSE god this fucking ripped me apart
i might not recover from this one
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