animus_network | 003 | Video | late Friday evening

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003 | Video | late Friday evening

[It's taken him a great deal of time to get his composure together, after everything is said and done. He might have his body back, but the rush of memories and actions and guilt guilt guilt is enough to make him want to vomit. The images of himself, coated in women, stained in blood, saying one thing while meaning another, leading people astray while knowing otherwise - PRETENDING....

How dare they... How DARE they...

...

As overwhelming as it is, he can't just wallow. Someone HAS to know, and as much as it might hurt to hear it so soon, they have to know immediately.

So Guy slips to a terminal, holding himself composed if not extremely worn... and as strong as he tries to stay, he can't quite keep the small tremble out of his words as he starts to speak.]

If you're hearing my voice right now, then you need to stop and listen. What I'm about to tell you is going to be hard to hear, and I'm sorry. But it's important.

This week was a mess. No one can deny that. But some of you here in the Tower might have been aware of a few of us wandering around, claiming we had "control" of our minds. To some of you, we were your superiors, ordering you to do or say things for us. The few of us that had mixed colors in our collars or could maintain a conversation like normal, despite our modifications, claiming that the Administrators had failed and that we were fighting back.

We sent out a message this week, gathering people and information to try and establish what we claimed was a counter-resistance. Many showed up. Many put confidence in us.

[He pauses, swallowing hard.]

That was a mistake.

The truth is that we were just as brainwashed as anyone else... Even more so, I guess. Despite what we might have said or made people think, we were all actors. The few of us you may have talked to were sent out specifically for sabotage and information, all for the ones that did this to us. We were spies, and before coming back to normal, many of us just gave away information that...

[Another pause, a deep grimace crossing his face.]

Well, it might prove to be a disaster for quite a few people. If you spoke to a drone in what you thought was a form of confidence, especially against the Tower or in details of the resistance...

[His expression pains, grimace thinning into a guilty frown.]

Then I'm sorry. We've done something truly horrible.

[...

There's another long pause, the man at the screen tense and quiet. Either he's searching for something else to say, or his composure is about to slip from him. It's hard to tell.]

There's nothing we can do to take it back. Think what you would like of us. But we've tricked you, and you deserve to know. And right now... I'd recommend to be prepared for the worst.

[...]

If you have questions, then feel free to ask. I'm... not sure what any of us can tell you. I'm sorry.

[And with a tired, forced smile, the feed ends.]

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[So, Guy might just be back, but for Asch it's been a couple of hours. He's spent most of those halfway curled-up on his bed, still expecting his body to suddenly stop being his own again at any moment.

In the end, he makes his way down to his usual terminal in the library, which is also safely isolated. Even if he can recognize people, he doesn't want to see people, doesn't want to interact. Not without a buffer, without something blocking him from knowing who's who, who's going to betray him next.

He's got his heels propped on the supports of his stool so that he's still somewhat in a ball as he watches Guy's video.

...]

[...Oh.

Well, that buffer didn't do much good, did it?

His first instinct is to reject it, wanting to say that it's all a lie - but it's not, Asch knows better. He knows when Guy's being honest, at least.

Or he thought he did.

You could practically see what's going through his head, if you were watching. His knees pull up, leaving Asch balanced precariously on the stool he's sitting on, and it's a long moment before he does anything else.]

[He finally manages to get his hands to the keyboard, flicking on a filter, but even to Guy (especially to Guy), he doesn't want to be seen.]

So... All of that was fake? Even the times that didn't have to do with gathering information?

[And not long after, without waiting for an answer - ]

I'll be in the library. When you're done with this mess, I want to talk.

[Except, he doesn't want to. It'd be easier to be someone else, to be really mindless like the Tower's real drones.]

[And as promised, whenever Guy gets to the library when all's said and done, Asch has made himself a hiding place in the back of the romance section, fully curled up in an armchair that's clearly been moved so that it's wedged between shelves as tightly as possible.

He's not crying. That's about the best that can be said for his condition, really. He's shaking and not responding to anything that goes on outside his head, clutching his knees towards his chest... But he's not crying.

Just a big lie - no, it's not Guy's fault, he didn't have any choice in it - but it burns him anyway. From Guy, of all people - it's a scenario that's so familiar, an old wound ripped back open because he'd wanted someone he could trust. He'd wanted to not be alone.

What a mistake.]

[It's very, very late before Guy finally wanders over to the library, his steps slow and heavy, looking like he's gone through hell and back. It takes him forever to figure out where in the world Asch actually is, and it's not until he stops to ask where the rest of the terminals are located that he finally turns to the romance section.

And there he is. Curled up in a ball like a small child hiding from a thunderstorm.

Guy keeps his distance, leaning against one of the bookshelves with a soft sigh.]

You wanted to talk, Asch?

[His head jerks up, his expression panicked for a moment before settling into a look of general dismay. His voice isn't steady, and his thoughts are obviously not well together.]

You - you were -

[His hands on his knees tighten. He takes a couple of shaky breaths.]

...I told myself that I'd tell you. When everything was back to normal, that I'd tell you that I was in there the whole time.

[Guy probably already knows. It doesn't matter.]

Heh. I wanted to think that, but...

[What smile he had managed fades at the edges, Guy far too tired to keep the facade up. He can see how torn the redhead is. He knows that the issue isn't something simple - a topic thrown out to try to keep composure before breaking down into either panic or anger. Maybe both.

...]

...Thank you. For telling me.

But I'm guessing that's not the only reason you wanted me here.

Did you? Was that really you, in any way, or was it just -

[He can't bring himself to finish. Asch ducks his head back into his knees, unable to meet Guy's eyes. It's too much, this last in a line of betrayals - he feels ill, and squeezes his knees to steady himself.]

...I was happy, when you pulled me aside again. It meant you cared. At least, it did to me.

[He was... happy?

Guy can feel a burning knot in his stomach, twisting harder the longer he looks at Asch, processing his words even though he wishes he couldn't. At the time, it had felt genuine, seemed genuine... no it had BEEN genuine. He knew it, in the back of his mind...

But the same distrust Asch might have coursing through him is coursing through Guy just as hard. Can he really say he did all that in good faith? Is that a risk he's willing to take?

He stays silent for a long time, staring blankly at the bookcase in front of him, listening to the heaviness of Asch's breathing as he struggles with what to say.]

...

Asch...

I'm sorry.

I only wish I knew what to tell you.

How about starting with what's going through your head?

[And it's back to the same, although without its usual venom. He's too tired to be angry.]

It's not about telling me what I want to hear, Guy. It never has been. Just talk.

You don't want to know what's going through my head, Asch.

[It's said with a bite, painfully honest in both his tone and his expression before he turns away again.]

If you can't trust me because of this, then I'm sorry. I'm not going to go making excuses.

I'm not a child who needs protecting from the world, Guy!

[He's not Luke - not the one taken from the manor, and not the one Guy raised. Being treated like this - it's like Guy still thinks of him as a child, and it's insulting. He might not be of age yet, but he's still an adult, not someone who needs coddling.]

What is it you think I can't handle? And what gives you the right to make that decision for me in the first place?

[Because if he can't handle it, then that's on him, not on Guy.]

[He visibly flinches, still keeping his eyes away. Yet another layer is added to the thickly-growing burden of guilt now on his shoulders, and here he was, just making it worse for someone else.

Even if it was Asch...

...

His response, when it comes, is quiet, huddled under tightly-crossed arms and a head that would not lift to meet Asch's eyes.]

You're right.

Sorry.

...What is it you wanted to know...?

[And now he feels like an asshole. What a dance it is they dance. Definitely not a contra.

He uncurls enough to put his feet back on the floor, his hands falling back into his lap. It takes a minute or two to think of an actual question, and in the end, he reverts to his military training. Assess the damage, and go from there.

If only figuring out everything else was so easy.]

What did you actually tell them?

[He swallows, head tipping back against the bookcase.]

The names of several of the resistance leaders and members, as well as their locations, possible locations, and why they chose those locations.

[As far as he knew? He'd just handed over a death sentence to anyone involved. But the reality was that he DIDN'T know... he just knew he'd been asked to gather info, and gathering info is what he did.

And not in the kindest manner, either.]

[Watching Guy, that might have been the wrong thing to ask. Asch slumps back into his chair for a moment, pulling his hand through his hair to try and think of what to say. Finally, he leans forward again, propping his elbows on his knees.]

That thing that was in control of you... It was still doing whatever you would have done then, right?

[Because that wasn't Guy, any more than the drone with a complete lack of personality was him. Asch won't permit himself to believe otherwise. Everything else, he can afford to give a little ground on.]

...As far as I know?

[He gives a weak chuckle as he presses his back to the shelves, slowly sliding to the floor. What was he during that week? Wow, what a question. One would think he'd be the person to ask, but... he really didn't know. Was he really himself, or was that just his mind playing tricks on him? He could think the optimistic route, but the evidence against that was just too overwhelming...

...

He bites at his lip, his voice ragged and tired.]

I'm really not sure. There were times where... I don't know... I felt like I was really myself. That there was something to fight against, that I had a clear head despite everything else.

But at the same time...

[He trails off, his shoulders tensing, arms still wrapped closely to himself.]

Heh... I don't know.

I was just as fooled as anyone else, I guess.

[Another exhale, this one closer to a sigh. He doesn't know what to think about it either, Guy. The fact that the admins could wrap someone's mind around like that is deeply disturbing of he dwells on it too long. At least back on Auldrant, they could only break his body.

Except that's not really true. Breaking someone just takes longer, that's all. So does putting them back.]

If it's anything like what you would have done, then thanks are probably still in order.

[It helped at the time when he most needed help. He can't not be grateful, even if in retrospect it stings worse.]

...Huh?

[He finally turns to look Asch straight-on, confusion written all over his features. Guy certainly remembers his interactions with Asch, sure, but... it hadn't seemed much like he was helping the droned soul by just ordering it around for a couple days.

...]

What for?

Well, not attacking me, for a start.

[That chuckle is a lot more painful than he's trying to play it off as. Everyone else he'd run into that was modified, at least those he'd been able to recognize...

He's not going to have to worry about dying from fonon separation for a while longer, at any rate.]

You gave me something outside myself to hang onto. Whatever they did to me, I...

[He weaves his fingers together, so that he has something to squeeze without being too obvious about it.]

I couldn't recognize anyone by their face, or their voice. The only reason I knew it was you was because I figured that no one else would be specifically terrified of being covered in dead women.

[And he wishes he could have offered even a little of the comfort that Guy's presence had given him - but instead, his body had just hurt the man, and maybe even made it worse.]

[He doesn't just chuckle at that - he outright laughs, dry and pained and far too loud for such a quiet space. Asch is thanking him for his fear.

What a dark day this was, to find some sort of ironic humor in that.

But a small part of him understands, slowly, why Asch is thanking him. To be trapped in a world on his own with no familiar faces... maybe he just had to rely on crazy things. And Guy just happened to have a pretty noticeable crazy thing.

Heh.]

I... guess you're welcome, then. I'm sorry. That must have been pretty hard for you...

[He pauses, giving a light shrug and picking at his hair absentmindedly.]

Sorry for all the blood in the cathedral wing. I really should of worded a lot of that better.

Edited (haha grammar) 2013-04-21 01:58 (UTC)

[And it's Asch's turn to laugh, somewhat bitter, all ironic, throwing himself back against the back of his armchair and staying there a long moment to catch his breath.]

What, did you think I got my moniker for coming back to Daath covered in strawberry jam?

[A reckless kid who came back to the cathedral splattered in blood, sometimes soaked with it up to his elbows - ]

I stopped being bothered by blood a long time ago. It kind of comes with the territory.

[Special Operations isn't a gentle place for a kid to grow up, but given where he is now, maybe it was for the best. It's sickening that he has to consider being unmoved by blood as an advantage in this place, but that's exactly what it is. He won't freeze up at the sight of it, even when it's coming from his friends or himself.]

Heh... alright, alright, sorry. But that's not really it.

[He doesn't need to hear a backstory that he knows will likely end in bittersweet tragedy when he's already got the end product sitting right here. He knows Asch has seen his fair share of blood. He's a member of the army, after all. Who knows how many people he's killed since he was abducted.

...]

Just knowing you, the mess all of that made - well, anything that happened, really - wasn't really up to par for you, even if it wasn't your fault. I wasn't ever sure if you were really in there or not. But if you had been... haha, I'm sorry if it was frustrating.

So I dunno. I guess I wish I could have been more clear for you. Might have been a little easier to deal with things that way, you know?

[His voice is wavering, a tightness to it that's keeping it from being truly genuine. Almost as if he's having a hard time accepting the words coming out of his own mouth.

But damn, he's too tired to try and correct himself now.]

It's fine. It wasn't any more or less frustrating than the situation as a whole.

[There's nothing he hates more than being helpless, nothing he fears more. So even if it was a pitiful attempt, even if it wasn't worth anything in the end - ]

It was better than having to watch everything go past without any ability to impact it.

[Something solid to hold onto, even if it didn't last.]

[Non-reply/Action/I don't even know 1/HOW MANY]

[this one action 2/? ]

[Text, filtered to Guy, 3/5?]

[Still filtered text 4/5]

[Action 5/5]

[Action] BRACING FOR A HORRIBLE CONVERSATION

[Perma-action THEY ALWAYS HAVE THE WORST POST-EVENT CONVERSATIONS]

SHOULD WE SOB BITTERLY YET

PLAN ON IT

/STEELS SELF

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