[ Yes, it's familiar. The presence on the other end is familiar, too.
There's nothing in return for a long stretch of time, enough of it to make anyone think they were being ignored, but then there's a faint response. A dull, muffled pulse through their connection, slow and hesitant.
Dokja doesn't much like this method of communication. It's too easy to let his emotions slip past the barriers he'd carefully set in place for himself with his mental state as fragile as it is to have any control over what he feels, and this makes him wary, almost afraid of using this ability.
Even more so now when he knows who it is on the other end of the line.
But he's reminded of her help from before, of what Abel had told him about her sudden appearance at the Lovers shrine, and while he doesn't remove his stone just yet, he does tentatively reach out in return. Not a greeting, not a question, just an acknowledgement that he knows she's there. ]
[The pulse may be faint, but it's enough. It confirms he's alive and well. There's also no helping this when they're on opposing sides of a war, he should well know that the opportunity for "talking" is few and far in-between. That reprieve at the Martyr's shrine must feel like a lifetime away now, if not a faraway miracle borne from some cosmic accident.
Normally, she wouldn't need anything else. Normally, this would be enough: a literal pulse check from him to see if he's still hanging in there, pitiful and pathetic creature he may be for all the power he possesses. But what almost did him in was not normal. How he let it happen to himself was not normal. The circumstances and consequences are grave in her eyes, so she can't settle for just this. Especially when there's no telling if there won't be a repeat, no predicting how much worse the rot over this bad blood can get.
Nevertheless, the channel is open, and neither of them had shut it off. So it didn't matter how long it took for anything to be communicated through, and it'll be another minute or two before a response echoes back from his hesitant acknowledgement.]
Well?
[There's not a trace of that cheerful and easygoing (if not outright overbearing and mischievous) girl from the other day left tonight, but it's not really like that time in the caverns either. There's a sense of coolness and distance, but it's not machine-like or chilling. Maybe it's the natural byproduct of the gulf that exists between them, in more ways than one given how far apart they stand on innumerable fronts? There's no blame or resentment from the other end either, however, despite the vaguely accusatory impression that such a simple word may give. Almost as if... asking, no, demanding an explanation?
[ No, actually, he doesn't think he owes her anything. He's long drawn the line in the sand between them, aware of his place and aware of her's. He doesn't share the same sort of compassion and willingness to understand the Kenoma like some of the other Pleroma. There's never been that much room in his heart to begin with.
So he's guarded when he's questioned, hand going back and forth from where his shard lies in his chest, then down as he hesitates. It might have been a week since the shrine incident, but the ordeal still haunts him and remains a constant burden at the forefront of his thoughts. He'd shamefully succumbed to the madness that drifts about his mind even now, and the very real fear of what that kid might have told Ciel weighs heavily on him.
She could do the same thing. She could bludgeon him with words, shred what bit of sanity he has left, taunt him that they all know. They all know about Kim Dokja's weak psyche.
The rising panic has to be fought down, and some of it is bound to creep its way through the communion being shared between them.
When he finally responds, shard taken into his hands, he forces an unnatural calm through. ]
[Lucky for him then, that she's not calling to understand him. They already agreed upon that much after all, third wheel backdrop present or not: they're enemies, so there's no sense in trying at all.
She almost sighs out loud, but manages to hold it back. As a fellow Martyr however, maybe he'll nevertheless pick up on the faint edge of exasperation that comes through from her end, one that she admittedly didn't really try to hide.
There's a clear purpose to this, and she initially intended to get straight to the point. But with an answer like that... Geez. He really can't help himself, can he? Suppose that makes two of them, because she finds herself changing tactics too, at the last second.]
Yes, good evening. Would you like to meander through some small talk first, or should I cut to the chase?
[She doubts he'll find it in him to relax no matter how much small talk they make, but if he'd like to try something, ANYTHING first, then there's the offer. Haah... Why does she even bother?]
The immediate spike of anxiety shoots across their link before Dokja can do anything to stop it. Fuck, he hates this system. Ability. Whatever. It takes a moment or two to rein in his emotions, but by then, he's flustered by how poorly he'd reacted.
He knows. He knows what this is about, and he doesn't want to hear it. It still feels too early, the wounds too fresh, the scenes from back then still hanging over his head. His first instinct is to run, his second to deflect. He doesn't share the same sort of reluctant, cautious openness with this Martyr like he does with the other.
But. This is a mess of his own making. His grip on his shard tightens, and he's more careful this time as he sends along a warning. That he'll end this without a second thought should he feel the need to. That need just isn't now, as much as he wishes it was. ]
Do you have questions for me? I can ask what I want to after.
[Another on-the-spot decision. Wasteful as it may be, she doesn't believe she's risking anything, and this is still relevant to the topic at hand. They both already know what this is about, but she's not the one on the verge of another panic attack. So for now at least, he can be granted some semblance of control over a conversation they both know won't be pretty from any angle.]
He's taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation, thoughts coming to a quick halt as he tries to process what had just happened. Questions? Him? To be honest, he has quite a few...
Suspicion leaks into their communion. This is an opportunity for him, but it must be the same for her. She'll get a better idea of his priorities just from the first question that he asks.
That's as good as admitting you still don't know what you want. Do you object?
[The reply is immediate, almost dry, even. It's a bluff, a very shitty and blatant one at that, and she's not letting it go without at least one passing comment. It's not like she can force him to change his answer, but she will make him aware of how it sounds from her end.]
[ That's not entirely true, but also partially true. There are two sides of him that want two different things and he can't seem to settle on either one of them.
So... let her think whatever she wants. She's just about there, anyway. ]
There's a short pause as he considers what to say. The honest response would be that he doesn't know, and that he's newly discovered that he can take the time to discover for himself what it is he's fighting for, that it doesn't have to be death, but...
He's not an especially honest person. ]
To stop the destruction of my world.
[ It feels like a cop-out answer, considering their sides and what they stand for. But it's not like it's a lie, either. ]
You're contradicting yourself. You already said before you only like the people you like, and you've made no attempt at disguising how shameless and selfish you are as a person. Someone like you wouldn't, cannot, care about an entire world. Are you not simply hung up on the people from your world who are important to you?
[Shameless, selfish, and chock full of shitty excuses. He doesn't let up, does he? She's assuming a lot too, but it's the only explanation that makes sense, going by what she's known of him from his interactions with her, other Kenomas, and what she felt from him in that cave.
[ A ripple of unease slips through from his end, silence greeting it not long after. But no other emotions that could potentially confirm or deny her assumptions manage to get through. In truth, his world is complicated. It houses the people he loves most, yes, but.
It's also a world of his own making and it exists for them. For that reason, it's important to him. The other people living in it could be damned for all he cares.
So she's right on both counts. But so is he. ]
I gave you my answer. It doesn't matter to me if you believe it or not.
[Right, it doesn't matter. Just like how it doesn't matter what subjective question she asks too, because he's going to continue answering like this.
Then, going off his own words.]
You haven't done a very good job at making yourself believable. You said you would fight when you will need to, that's the opposite of almost getting yourself killed by someone you could easily overpower. An ordinary teenager from a normal world at that, who's never had to contend with superhuman abilities before. Of all the experienced fighters and killers you could have had as an opponent, you imposed yourself onto that kind of person.
[A muted pulse of frustration slips through from her end there, on the emphasis that of all the people he could've saddled his own death wish on, it was Gen. As if she could go on chewing him out about that, but is holding back.
...]
I won't ask you what you're thinking, or to explain yourself. I'm just telling you that's how it looks from an outsider's perspective. Your own words, actions, and how they contradict themselves are responsible for the forming of your reputation. If you keep this up, you will also be a liability to your allies, and there are some who clearly care about you.
[ He sits up with interest at hearing her account of things. It's true that he'd very clearly lost that fight, but he had also lost his sanity in the moment, had a weakness that had easily been exploited, and had unknowingly given his opponent plenty of openings to take advantage of. Does she not know this? Did that kid not tell her?
Well, he's not going to be the one to let her know. How bad would it look if he admitted that he hadn't gone there to pick a fight, only to be left half-dead by the end of it because he'd had a break from reality?
What he finds even more interesting, though, is the rest of this. ]
... Why did you reach out to me?
[ It's a genuine curiosity, one that can be felt. Did she want to replay the incident back to him? Tell him about his reputation from another point of view? ... Remind him that he has people who care about him...? What is this about? ]
[She doesn't, but it doesn't matter. That knowledge doesn't change the result of what happened. She has an inkling anyway, figured he wouldn't let himself get beaten THAT badly on purpose. Whatever that gave Gen of all people a fighting chance knowing what Dokja was capable, it must've really messed with him first.]
So you do have something to ask, after all?
[It's not some gotcha or I-told-you-so moment, there's no notable inflection or discernible feeling attached to the remark. He's said himself he had nothing to ask of her before, yet here he is now, asking her a thing. She's simply underlining that fact, nothing more and nothing less. As if commenting about how the sky is blue, or how the water is wet, or how insane this entire situation is for every last one of them, more or less.]
[ After hearing all of that? Yeah, he's more confused than ever. He thought he had an idea of why she'd started this communion, but now he's left without an idea the longer this continues. ]
Yes.
[ He keeps his response to a simple answer with an expectant pause at the end of it. ]
[In that case, there's only one way to answer this.]
"I'm the sort of person who likes to pry." Is that good enough for you?
[Whether he remembers or not, maybe the faint twinge of amusement colored by an almost bitter tinge of irony of her part will jog his memory: it's word for word what he's said to her himself, after insisting that it wasn't the first time they met back inside that cave.]
[ Ah. He can't be too annoyed with that reply. It's exactly the sort of thing he would do. Still, he doesn't bother to mask his irritation at her side-stepping his question.
He rolls his shard between his palms and wonders if this is as far as they're going to get today. ]
Well, thank you for your concern, if that is what it is. I'll try not to be a liability to my companions.
[This is starting to be rather uncanny, all the things she's done that he's somehow identifying with... He just can't be cute about it, huh? Then again neither of them are any cuteness expert, gonna need to call someone else in to judge that aspect, hm.]
You could think of it as concern, yes: you'll worry and compromise your companions if you don't take care of yourself better. You could think of it as a complaint, too: if you're going to get yourself killed, at least make it at the hands of an actual killer. You could think of it as a warning, also: if a high school teen with no magical experience and limited combat training could do that to you, then how vulnerable does that leave you against someone more skilled and calculating? You could think of it as a reminder: of your weakness and what you need to improve upon, if you truly believe in your cause and are committed to it with everything you have. And last but not least, you could think of it as a threat: if I end up capturing you, I'll make sure you don't die, and we can take our time going through all the other things that are much worse than death.
[Yet there's nothing like anything she's just described from her emotional feed on the other end: no like concern, hostility, or everything in between. He may feel like he just got lectured, if anything.]
[ At least this is familiar. He's no stranger to being lectured about his... poor habits, but once again he's struck dumb at wondering why she's going out of her way to give him this talk.
Shouldn't someone in her position want for him to be captured or killed? ]
I... I think you've made your points very clear.
[ He just doesn't know why they're directed at him of all people. ]
[ Ah, he still has questions... Why had she let him and Abel go? How is that boy now? Where was she hoping this conversation would take her? And the one that had gone mostly unanswered: Why is she here?
But... He doesn't think he'll get a straight answer out of her. ]
You wouldn't know until you try. "It doesn't matter", that's Kenoma thinking, you know. It IS interesting to see you sticking by what you've chosen, when your blatantly depressive personality would make a lot more sense over on this side.
[Like... Just saying. Does he really have any ground to give Kenoma shit on when he himself is shitty like this? 🤔 Son,]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
There's nothing in return for a long stretch of time, enough of it to make anyone think they were being ignored, but then there's a faint response. A dull, muffled pulse through their connection, slow and hesitant.
Dokja doesn't much like this method of communication. It's too easy to let his emotions slip past the barriers he'd carefully set in place for himself with his mental state as fragile as it is to have any control over what he feels, and this makes him wary, almost afraid of using this ability.
Even more so now when he knows who it is on the other end of the line.
But he's reminded of her help from before, of what Abel had told him about her sudden appearance at the Lovers shrine, and while he doesn't remove his stone just yet, he does tentatively reach out in return. Not a greeting, not a question, just an acknowledgement that he knows she's there. ]
no subject
Normally, she wouldn't need anything else. Normally, this would be enough: a literal pulse check from him to see if he's still hanging in there, pitiful and pathetic creature he may be for all the power he possesses. But what almost did him in was not normal. How he let it happen to himself was not normal. The circumstances and consequences are grave in her eyes, so she can't settle for just this. Especially when there's no telling if there won't be a repeat, no predicting how much worse the rot over this bad blood can get.
Nevertheless, the channel is open, and neither of them had shut it off. So it didn't matter how long it took for anything to be communicated through, and it'll be another minute or two before a response echoes back from his hesitant acknowledgement.]
Well?
[There's not a trace of that cheerful and easygoing (if not outright overbearing and mischievous) girl from the other day left tonight, but it's not really like that time in the caverns either. There's a sense of coolness and distance, but it's not machine-like or chilling. Maybe it's the natural byproduct of the gulf that exists between them, in more ways than one given how far apart they stand on innumerable fronts? There's no blame or resentment from the other end either, however, despite the vaguely accusatory impression that such a simple word may give. Almost as if... asking, no, demanding an explanation?
"Well". Does he think he owes her one?]
no subject
So he's guarded when he's questioned, hand going back and forth from where his shard lies in his chest, then down as he hesitates. It might have been a week since the shrine incident, but the ordeal still haunts him and remains a constant burden at the forefront of his thoughts. He'd shamefully succumbed to the madness that drifts about his mind even now, and the very real fear of what that kid might have told Ciel weighs heavily on him.
She could do the same thing. She could bludgeon him with words, shred what bit of sanity he has left, taunt him that they all know. They all know about Kim Dokja's weak psyche.
The rising panic has to be fought down, and some of it is bound to creep its way through the communion being shared between them.
When he finally responds, shard taken into his hands, he forces an unnatural calm through. ]
Hello to you, too.
no subject
She almost sighs out loud, but manages to hold it back. As a fellow Martyr however, maybe he'll nevertheless pick up on the faint edge of exasperation that comes through from her end, one that she admittedly didn't really try to hide.
There's a clear purpose to this, and she initially intended to get straight to the point. But with an answer like that... Geez. He really can't help himself, can he? Suppose that makes two of them, because she finds herself changing tactics too, at the last second.]
Yes, good evening. Would you like to meander through some small talk first, or should I cut to the chase?
[She doubts he'll find it in him to relax no matter how much small talk they make, but if he'd like to try something, ANYTHING first, then there's the offer. Haah... Why does she even bother?]
no subject
The immediate spike of anxiety shoots across their link before Dokja can do anything to stop it. Fuck, he hates this system. Ability. Whatever. It takes a moment or two to rein in his emotions, but by then, he's flustered by how poorly he'd reacted.
He knows. He knows what this is about, and he doesn't want to hear it. It still feels too early, the wounds too fresh, the scenes from back then still hanging over his head. His first instinct is to run, his second to deflect. He doesn't share the same sort of reluctant, cautious openness with this Martyr like he does with the other.
But. This is a mess of his own making. His grip on his shard tightens, and he's more careful this time as he sends along a warning. That he'll end this without a second thought should he feel the need to. That need just isn't now, as much as he wishes it was. ]
... Let's hear it.
no subject
Do you have questions for me? I can ask what I want to after.
[Another on-the-spot decision. Wasteful as it may be, she doesn't believe she's risking anything, and this is still relevant to the topic at hand. They both already know what this is about, but she's not the one on the verge of another panic attack. So for now at least, he can be granted some semblance of control over a conversation they both know won't be pretty from any angle.]
no subject
He's taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation, thoughts coming to a quick halt as he tries to process what had just happened. Questions? Him? To be honest, he has quite a few...
Suspicion leaks into their communion. This is an opportunity for him, but it must be the same for her. She'll get a better idea of his priorities just from the first question that he asks.
So he doesn't. ]
I don't have any questions.
no subject
[The reply is immediate, almost dry, even. It's a bluff, a very shitty and blatant one at that, and she's not letting it go without at least one passing comment. It's not like she can force him to change his answer, but she will make him aware of how it sounds from her end.]
no subject
So... let her think whatever she wants. She's just about there, anyway. ]
No objections from me.
no subject
What are you really fighting for, here?
no subject
There's a short pause as he considers what to say. The honest response would be that he doesn't know, and that he's newly discovered that he can take the time to discover for himself what it is he's fighting for, that it doesn't have to be death, but...
He's not an especially honest person. ]
To stop the destruction of my world.
[ It feels like a cop-out answer, considering their sides and what they stand for. But it's not like it's a lie, either. ]
no subject
[Shameless, selfish, and chock full of shitty excuses. He doesn't let up, does he? She's assuming a lot too, but it's the only explanation that makes sense, going by what she's known of him from his interactions with her, other Kenomas, and what she felt from him in that cave.
He's hollow, isn't he...?]
no subject
It's also a world of his own making and it exists for them. For that reason, it's important to him. The other people living in it could be damned for all he cares.
So she's right on both counts. But so is he. ]
I gave you my answer. It doesn't matter to me if you believe it or not.
no subject
Then, going off his own words.]
You haven't done a very good job at making yourself believable. You said you would fight when you will need to, that's the opposite of almost getting yourself killed by someone you could easily overpower. An ordinary teenager from a normal world at that, who's never had to contend with superhuman abilities before. Of all the experienced fighters and killers you could have had as an opponent, you imposed yourself onto that kind of person.
[A muted pulse of frustration slips through from her end there, on the emphasis that of all the people he could've saddled his own death wish on, it was Gen. As if she could go on chewing him out about that, but is holding back.
...]
I won't ask you what you're thinking, or to explain yourself. I'm just telling you that's how it looks from an outsider's perspective. Your own words, actions, and how they contradict themselves are responsible for the forming of your reputation. If you keep this up, you will also be a liability to your allies, and there are some who clearly care about you.
[Even if he's unable to care about himself.]
Can you understand that much?
no subject
Well, he's not going to be the one to let her know. How bad would it look if he admitted that he hadn't gone there to pick a fight, only to be left half-dead by the end of it because he'd had a break from reality?
What he finds even more interesting, though, is the rest of this. ]
... Why did you reach out to me?
[ It's a genuine curiosity, one that can be felt. Did she want to replay the incident back to him? Tell him about his reputation from another point of view? ... Remind him that he has people who care about him...? What is this about? ]
no subject
So you do have something to ask, after all?
[It's not some gotcha or I-told-you-so moment, there's no notable inflection or discernible feeling attached to the remark. He's said himself he had nothing to ask of her before, yet here he is now, asking her a thing. She's simply underlining that fact, nothing more and nothing less. As if commenting about how the sky is blue, or how the water is wet, or how insane this entire situation is for every last one of them, more or less.]
no subject
Yes.
[ He keeps his response to a simple answer with an expectant pause at the end of it. ]
no subject
"I'm the sort of person who likes to pry." Is that good enough for you?
[Whether he remembers or not, maybe the faint twinge of amusement colored by an almost bitter tinge of irony of her part will jog his memory: it's word for word what he's said to her himself, after insisting that it wasn't the first time they met back inside that cave.]
no subject
He rolls his shard between his palms and wonders if this is as far as they're going to get today. ]
Well, thank you for your concern, if that is what it is. I'll try not to be a liability to my companions.
no subject
You could think of it as concern, yes: you'll worry and compromise your companions if you don't take care of yourself better. You could think of it as a complaint, too: if you're going to get yourself killed, at least make it at the hands of an actual killer. You could think of it as a warning, also: if a high school teen with no magical experience and limited combat training could do that to you, then how vulnerable does that leave you against someone more skilled and calculating? You could think of it as a reminder: of your weakness and what you need to improve upon, if you truly believe in your cause and are committed to it with everything you have. And last but not least, you could think of it as a threat: if I end up capturing you, I'll make sure you don't die, and we can take our time going through all the other things that are much worse than death.
[Yet there's nothing like anything she's just described from her emotional feed on the other end: no like concern, hostility, or everything in between. He may feel like he just got lectured, if anything.]
Does that clarify better?
no subject
Shouldn't someone in her position want for him to be captured or killed? ]
I... I think you've made your points very clear.
[ He just doesn't know why they're directed at him of all people. ]
no subject
Good. You don't have anything more to add either, then?
[Since he's apparently as meek as a mouse around her, contrasted to whatever gremlin form he changes into around Gen. smh...]
no subject
But... He doesn't think he'll get a straight answer out of her. ]
It doesn't matter what I have to add.
no subject
[Like... Just saying. Does he really have any ground to give Kenoma shit on when he himself is shitty like this? 🤔 Son,]
no subject
He's already unmade countless worlds and, to this day, dealing with the consequences. ]
Is that what it's like over there?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)