ᴛᴡᴏ ✄ sweet things

[distorting]

[He's sitting cross-legged on a bed in a room that isn't very well lit. The only light that's coming in is from a nearby window, but even then, the dark seems to be crowding the room. Tate seems to stand out from the dark, his blond, messy hair being the only thing that really makes him stand out in the first place.

There is a long quiet that feels awkward and almost wrong as he slowly gets up from the bed to look around the room. He looks familiar enough with it, like he's been there for his whole life, but there's something in his eyes that suggests a longing for something more. It's like nostalgia had taken over him completely. He looks perplexed for a moment, staring down at the bed sheets before looking up abruptly, straight at a memory, or perhaps someone who's not supposed to be in his dream at all. ]

I'm sick of being here.

Comments

[drinkandforget]

Curiosity. I want to know what makes someone that determined to work so hard to something that might be futile.

[distorting]

It's not though, right? People have left.

[drinkandforget]

Have they? Where have they gone? Have you heard from them after this? [She asks these from... perhaps curiosity still, but also to point out just how uncertain that so-called hope is. She's learned to hope for very little.]

[distorting]

Probably home. I never talked to any of them, but I've heard that they don't come back. Or do, depending on if this place takes them back or not.

[drinkandforget]

Do you believe this means they've returned home as you've been told? Have you heard from them? Received phone calls or letters?

[distorting]

Why would I receive phone calls or letters from people I don't know?

[Or care about.]

[drinkandforget]

Then what reason do you have to believe in this at all?

[This is the real point. He has nothing to connect that belief to, no reason or certainty. Just a vain hope given to him by- what? The very ones keeping him there? Laughable, to believe a captor.]

[distorting]

I don't.

[He says it clearly and calmly, but there is an underlying threat between the two words.]

[drinkandforget]

What made you decide to believe it? [She doesn't quite take the hint to stop, as her fingers lightly brush one of the walls. It's rare for her to be in an ordinary home like this (in its structure, at least); she finds herself, almost, enjoying it.]

[distorting]

Because whatever brought us here has the power to bring us back.

[drinkandforget]

That's true. It doesn't guarantee how they'll use that power. [She has the power to let a man cheat death into his next life; it doesn't mean she is free to use it even if she wanted to.]

Don't be naive about your position.

[distorting]

[He's starting to get a bit snappy with her -- he doesn't like her attitude.]

My position? What about yours?

[drinkandforget]

[She's more bark than bite, at least. She doesn't go outside of the requirements of her role. Fighting the soldiers opposed to Galaxia was now a part of that role, part of the price to pay for her own survival.

Tate, of course, is not one of those soldiers; and thus, as safe as anyone can be from her.]

My position is very different. [There isn't bragging there this time, simply neutral truth.]

[distorting]

In a place like this? Where everyone is put on the same level? I doubt it.

[He sounds so sure of himself, too.]

[drinkandforget]

From the start, I don't belong here. I will be gone from this place momentarily. [She sounds neither triumphant nor sad; this is simply not the place she is bound to herself - though she is equally tied to there.]

[distorting]

Isn't that what they all say?

[He moves himself from the bed, standing and walking closer to her.]


Nobody belongs here.

[drinkandforget]

[She doesn't argue. He'll see it for himself soon enough, when she vanishes or when they wake up.]

Are you still planning to try to escape?

[distorting]

I'll escape when I'm given the opportunity.

[drinkandforget]

How will you do it? [If he's determined, he should have a plan.]

[distorting]

Why would I tell you?

[drinkandforget]

Struggle uselessly, then.

[distorting]

Struggle? You're wrong.

[drinkandforget]

You can struggle, or stand still and accept it.

[distorting]

It's not useless, though. None of it will be.

[drinkandforget]

Even if you escape, what then? Recapture? A life hiding from that?