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 Posted: Mon Dec 09, 2013 10:28 pm
A door slammed, somewhere far away. The walls still shuddered, revealing how integrated the basement structure was. The thunder of bootfalls coming closer made the floor quake until they stopped, right in front of Kostya's door. Then they walked past it by two steps. Then back. Because he thought this was Kostya's door, but it was so hard to tell. And he really didn't want to try and bash down some random trainees door. But eventually, he decided that this was, in fact, Kostya. So the long, agonizing moments of silence where he was just standing outside of the door ended with a bang. "KOSTYA." Robert kicked the door - and winced as his foot hit bars, instead of wood or stone. He reached out and pulled the sheet away, his face pink and pinched with some kind of otherworldy anger. He looked less like a man, and more like a monster. It was a face that Deus hadn't really seen before, but would probably see again soon. Bars for a door meant it was easier to unlock. But he still punched the wall beside the doorway, giving the other hunter a chance to open the door himself and face the consequences without having to be hunted down. "Get the ******** over here right now, or so help me, I'm going to be the next one podded for killing a Hunter. OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT ******** NOW."
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Posted: Mon Dec 09, 2013 10:51 pm
That did not go as anticipated. He had been so sure in his conclusions: he had run them through his mind repeatedly, and his was the only one that had come out correct.
He stared at his phone.
Mimsy Kercher @bythetumtumtree Especially if you believed this in ANY capacity: @omniscienterror Removing self, no loss. Same results.
None of this was according to plan, and the all caps letters of the Second Potato's words were...ominous.
Robert Morris @sofukinawsom @omniscienterror @bythetumtumtree NOT. ********. NOTICED?
So ominous, in fact, that they were soon followed by a series of crashes, bangs, and no small amount of shouting. He realised that staying in a location that Potato Two was aware of was not his best course of action, but it was too late to run.
He was there.
And he was, almost certainly, going to end Kostya's life.
Kostya weighed his options: open the door and die, or keep the door closed, resulting in it being broken down and probably still dying. One option ensured less clean up for the Deus population as a whole, and there was no reason to make his soon-to-be-former fellow Moons resent him in death.
Wordlessly, Kostya undid the door's lock with a soft thunk, his shoulders hunched, refusing to make eye contact. He scurried back to the corner his room as fast as he could stumble there.
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Posted: Mon Dec 09, 2013 11:11 pm
Robert was heaving. His entire body was literally heaving. Up, and down it went, as he stood there on the other side of the bars, watching Kostya unlock the door. While Kostya refused to look up at him, Robert was refusing to look away. His bloodshot eyes were digging deep holes through Kostya, as if trying to see what was so wrong inside of him that made him make such awful, awful decisions. It was a trait he'd been getting used to doing, lately. When the door unlocked, Robert didn't move. Kostya fled from it quickly enough, huddling in a far corner like some trapped rat. Robert chose to wait a few more seconds in the doorway, before very slowly pushing the bars open. They creaked ominously, which probably did not help the overall image he was asserting at the time. He closed the door behind him with a clang, and took the effort of picking up the sheet, and carefully setting it back over the bars. For privacy. The room was just another basement room in size and shape, and Robert knew there wasn't any real sense in trying to hide or run away for Kostya. So he walked to the corner where the young man stood, and put his hands in his pockets. He took a deep breath. Then he put both of his meaty hands on Kostya's arms and shook him like a milkshake. "CAN YOU PLEASE. TELL ME. WHAT THE ******** IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
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Posted: Mon Dec 09, 2013 11:21 pm
The door shut with a dull ringing and he couldn't withhold the flinch that resulted from the loud sound. His dying throes had proven that-- he had watched his own death over and over again, replaying the sounds of his screams as he perished so easily. So pitifully.
In fact, those same sounds were repeated once more, given the violent nature of Potato Two's jostling. Large hands were wrapped around his upper arms, and any move to try and cover his face was ended with a sort of awkward flailing that resulted in absolutely nothing but his best penguin impression.
"ПОЖАЛУЙСТА, ПРЕКРАТИТЕ! Я НЕ ЗНАЮ! ПОЖАЛУЙСТА, НЕ ДЕЛАЙТЕ ЭТОГО! Я НЕ ХОЧУ УМЕРЕТЬ СНОВА!"
He turned his head away, eyes shut tight, as he was shaken, not stirred. In his haze, it eventually dawned on him that Potato Two did not speak Russian.
"NOTHING!" Kostya shouted, unsure if the nausea he was feeling was his heart stuck in his chest or the result of becoming a human martini. "STOP!"
* PLEASE STOP! I DON'T KNOW! PLEASE DON'T DO THIS! I DON'T WANT TO DIE AGAIN!
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Posted: Mon Dec 09, 2013 11:39 pm
Nothing was the wrong answer. Nothing was the reason why the two of them kept ping-ponging at each other, saying spiteful things that neither of them could really mean. All those fancy words, when it all came down to nothing more than NO U. NO U. NO U. And still, they were slicing away at each other until raw. He stopped shaking Kostya, and pulled him in, crushing him against the larger man's chest. The hug was violent, and still really angry, but nonetheless it was nothing more than a hug. "Chekov, I am ********' begging you. Do you hear me right now? I am begging you. You gotta stop this bullshit right now. There is something wrong - something serious and deep down and ******** up and I need you to find that something, and own it. Because if you keep hurting Mimsy like this - if you keep sayin' s**t that - " Robert's body was shaking, but it was clearly a different kind of shake. Wracking sobs had him shuddering. "I can't let you keep hurting her, Kostya." It was the first time he'd said Kostya's actual name. "And she is hurting, even if you don't ********' see it. Because I do. Every single night. And I'm determined to make sure nothing ever hurts Mimsy ever again. So please. Please. ********' talk your s**t out with me, right now, or I gotta figure out some other way to end her suffering. One way or another.."
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Posted: Mon Dec 09, 2013 11:57 pm
The wailing did not stop when Robert pressed him close, because it was Robert, now: if his face was pressed to a sturdy, horrible chest, Kostya might as well call him by his name. It was a low, unhappy sound, his body completely petrified as he shut his eyes, horrified, disgusted.
Don't touch me, please, don't touch me, I can't do this, don't touch me, don't, don't--
His skin was crawling. His nausea intensified, because someone's body was near to his and what could be worse? Konstantin remembered the searing pain of a bullet through his shoulder, the lack of oxygen forcing him to pass out and surrender to blackness, and in his hysteria, Kostya would have preferred either of those options.
Because it wasn't just touching. It was touching with a pleading, with Robert asking him to do something he did not understand.
He laughed, hysterical and ugly, dark and malevolent in a way that was not familiar except in the vestiges of a dream of bones he could not recall.
Turning an eye to Robert, his glasses askew and horror still roiling in his belly from hands on him, his chin next to the larger man's collarbones, his feet barely touching the floor.
"You think," he started, voice hoarse, terse. "I vas one to do this?" The laughter burbled up again, his shoulders shaking in his grasp. "Left because her time vas spent. Vith you. Not needed. Not necessary. Not important."
He was not going to weep, not now, not with this creature droning on to him about Mimsy's delicate need to be protected. It made him want to burn down buildings, to raze Deus to the ground. It made him want to smash cartilage and snap bone, and it took Syntax's warning bells blaring to remind him that this was not the time or the place to do any sort of ugly fighting, that there were better ways to ruin your opposition besides brute force.
"You say like you know her better than me."
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 12:18 am
He probably should have expected this. Robert's arms could feel Kostya seizuring and freezing up within them, and when he pulled away to look in his eyes, he saw something familiar. Someting terrifyingly familiar. He should have known that hugs were not on the menu with anyone who Mimsy considered a best friend. But he'd been angry, and frustrated, and desperate. And he'd been right, from the start. He pulled Kostya away, but continued to keep his hands on his arms, holding him tight. Robert bent down just enough to be eye to eye, refusing to let Kostya look away even if he tried. " Why does it have to be one or the other with you, kid." Robert hissed - he was no older than Kostya, but anyone who saw less than he did was a kid to him. "Why do you think for one second that just because she wants to be with me, she don't want to be your friend, too. That she don't need you to be there for her too? What kind of ******** up world have you created where one person - a person like Mimsy, who needs so much more than anyone else - should only get ONE person taking care of her? You think that's right? You think it's better that way?" Robert's hands clenched hard enough to have left bruises, if it wasn't for Kostya's shield. As it was, he felt the crackle of Fear against his fingertips. "I don't need to know her better than you, a*****e. I know her just enough to know she needs both of us. The real question is, how come you don't know yourself enough to realize that, too?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 12:39 am
He thanked all the gods he did not believe in when Robert spared him enough kindness to give him breathing room, even if his grip was ferociously tight.
"I vaited," he said, and it was broken, because neither he nor Mimsy had really been complete. Her need of someone to rely on for duties had given him a purpose for so long, and without it he felt hollow. To slink in their empty room, forgotten, like a toy that had a broken wheel and was left behind for something newer. He had been so sure that Mimsy had extracted all the interesting parts of him and moved on, that he thought it best to retire himself lest he face the humiliation of being retired.
It was so tempting to believe what she had said. That he was foolish for thinking that nothing had been lost.
"'Needs so much more than anyone else,'" he repeated, and he felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Kostya blinked them away. "You speak like she is only one vith loss." It was so frustrating to be so ineloquent, to wield words as if they were ugly blocks or clubs instead of the smooth, aquiline things they were when he spoke in his native tongue.
"Nyetnyetnyet, no," he hissed, trying once more to break away, arms spasming still to no avail. "Of course not better. You think of her as hurt-- but she left me first. Days. Veeks. Months. Left alone. Left abandoned. Slept in lab, checked up on her. Brought food. Did laundry. Cleaned. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Vould do forever, no questions. Vould do forever, needing nothing back but company."
He shook his head violently. "So alone," was all he could repeat. "Mimsy have experiment. Have you. Have Lucky." It had not been so bad before. "Am empty inside. Have nothing. Vhy does miss me? Of course am not happy. Of course not right. Of course, of course, of course."
Kostya didn't answer Robert's last question, and just tried to hunch over again, his eyes sliding shut. He could repeat that she needed him, but there was no imperial proof against something that had provided itself numerous times: Mimsy's world no longer had the time or the space for him.
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 12:54 am
Robert knew that the split of their friendship, and their communal living situation was hurting Kostya just as much as it did Mimsy. He knew this, because if it didn't, Kostya would never have risen to comment on words Mimsy said. Twitter bared both of their grievances publicly, for everyone to judge. And Robert judged that they were both still very invested in the pain that the sight of one another brought about. Kostya's words, and Mimsy's reactions, were eloquent fancy ways of saying the exact same things he'd said to someone, once. Someone who'd - hurt him - but.. he couldn't remember who. He quickly shoved the entire confusing thought out of his mind, because it hurt to even try to remember. What he did know, however, is the pain behind those words. Behind the anger and the giving up. He dropped down to the floor, unfortunately bringing Kostya down with him. But as soon as they were there, he let go. He stared at Kostya with red rimmed eyes, wide and turbulent with emotion. He'd been here before. "I don't want you to be alone, Kostya." Robert whispered. He reached a hand up affectionately, but pulled it back before he touched the man. Yes, he'd definitely been here before. "But she doesn't need you to do her laundry anymore. I know it made you feel useful. I get that. But you've gotta realize there's so much more than that s**t. And sometimes, you've gotta be the bad guy, if it's in their best interests. But giving up - that's never an option." He rubbed his eyes, because they'd misted up again. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to be hurt just as much as I don't want her to be hurt. I gave up everything - my entire life - to show her what love is. I'd do the same for you, if I could." Robert sniffled, and sighed. "You don't want to give up your friendship with her. She don't wanna give up her friendship with you. All that s**t the two of you keep saying, it's just lies on top of lies, on top of lies. But I'm not the kind of guy who can lie, Kostya. So you listen to me, right now, and take me seriously." He put his hand on Kostya's head. It didn't matter that the man would recoil from it. He needed to know Robert would never back down, or give up. On either of them. "I love you, Kostya. You hear what I just said? Me. Robert. I love you. And you ain't never gonna be alone again."
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 1:14 am
Kostya hit the ground, and he tucked his knees under his chin, arms wrapped around his legs. He needed to hold on to himself to reassure him that this was real. He almost flinched, but sighed in relief when Robert didn't touch him.
He scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand, angry that he was so de-constructed. It was supposed to be simple. She was supposed to be happier without him so that he could move on. Neither of those things had happened. This was not the intended result.
Robert's words were kind, but not what he wanted to hear. "Am extraneous." It was one of the words she had taught him. Adjective, irrelevant or unrelated to the subject being dealt with. He found it fitting, and scoffed. "For you. There is being more, for you." his grip around his legs tightened. He kept talking but he did not understand. That was not how they worked. He would not make a play at something so banal as normalcy.
He was a tool and a resource to be utilised, and now that he was out of use, it felt as though he was covered in rust, immobilized. "Have been 'bad guy', Robert. Vhat do think leaving vas?"
Foolish, hopeful man.
He said love, and Kostya found that he had no idea what Robert meant by it. In English, it was impossible to distinguish the kind of love he was talking about. The idea of kissing Robert-- anyone, really-- was enough to turn his stomach all over again. Perhaps he meant platonic love, and so he latched onto that idea instead.
The result was an incredulous stare.
"Needing purpose," Kostya pleaded, trying to make him understand. "Existing like before, vith us. No direction. No use. Miserable. She gave up already vhen she spend all time vith you."
He pressed his palms into his eyes, and visible flinched at Robert's profession of love.
"Love is not vhat need. Is furthest from. Need direction. Balance. Order. Rules. Routine." He listed each one and counted them on a raised hand until there was nothing but a fist full of nothing. Preferably from Mimsy-- using America as a stand in for directions was quite often a disaster.
"Being alone fine. But to be forget?"
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 1:38 am
Kostya was tightening up. He was closing himself off, right in front of Robert's eyes. Robert wanted to reach out and shake him again, but he knew it would do no good. "I think leaving was selfish guy. Not bad guy. Maybe you think you did it because it was what was best for her. But I can see it in your eyes - you left because you needed to leave. You were hurting and you needed distance. The problem is, that's not good enough, because you live for others. I get that." He rolled his eyes - he definitely got that. "But the problem is that you don't get to decide what's best for her. And neither do I. She does. So you shoulda let her decide whether it was for the best, or not. And you were too chicken s**t that she was going to leave you, so you did it first." The words were harsh, and not a little bit overimposing. He didn't really know Kostya enough to say things like this, but he knew Mimsy, and he knew how she would have reacted. Still might, if Kostya ever learned to open his heart up enough to let someone else in. He did not look forward to that day, or that talk. "So you need a purpose." Robert hummed out, leaning back as his hands planted themselves on the floor behind him. "And takin' care of Mimsy was your purpose. By the way, honest to God - don't be mad here bro, but that, too, is selfish. If taking care of people is your thing, that's great. If taking care of one person whether they need it or not, is how you feel whole, then you got your own issues." But he hadn't meant to lecture, he'd meant to try and help. "So the question is, how can you get a new purpose? One that's going to give you fulfillment, but allow you to still be Mimsy's friend and not ********' tear each other up with pain and twitter fights?" This sounded like a job for.. "Damn, if I were you I'd just transfer to Moon and start protecting everyone."
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 2:23 am
For the first time that evening, someone was speaking his language-- at least, metaphorically. "Vas only matter of time," he insisted, because if he (and Mimsy) had truly suffered for nothing, he would think himself utterly and completely foolish.
Robert's declaration that Kostya had issues prompted a roll of his eyes, evident even if they were still closed, considering it was accompanied by the traditional head roll. He had come to a similar conclusion, but he was functioning off what made him feel capable. "Don't speak vhat you don't know." How dare he try to impose his saccharine knowledge of Mimsy upon what their existence had been. It had been symbiotic and parasitic in one breath. He could not understand.
He opened his eyes to give the other man an incredulous stare. He was so close to understanding, but still, so far.
Kostya didn't want to just serve everyone, although being generally useful to the greater calling of Deus Ex was enough to exist on. Everything would have been fine, even if...Mimsy was...if she... He thought of the way her coat had been splattered in blood, the giddy look on her face at the sharing of news, the light in her eyes. He had realised, then. That she was mad, and he was just as mad for deigning to follow her and her compass that pointed them in directions that were morally bankrupt.
Robert could call them issues, but it went much, much deeper than that. Particularly because he was not entirely sure if he wished to correct himself. Maybe he could use it to make himself stronger. He had an interest in inter-factional disputes, now, after witnessing the fallout of the fall of their own in graphic video detail, including his own experince of enduring attempted murder. Perhaps he could use his lack of moral barometer to do whatever was necessary.
"Is complicated. Purpose for many, is...okay. Not same." Slowly, he released the vice grip on his legs. Robert had not offered any solutions, nor did he truly get the problem-- but he was trying, and it was progress. Kostya flashed a crooked grin that was glass around the edges. "Am going to transfer," he confessed. "Out of Moon. I thought it vould be vhat I need."
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 2:44 am
Robert looked dumbfounded - it wasn't very hard. "I didn't realize - why did I think - ah, whatever. I don't get it. Why would you transfer out of moon? You seem the type. Hell, if we're on a mission, you'd be the kind of guy I'd want watching my back." But they didn't send Robert out on too many missions, anymore. Somewhere along the line.. they'd learned better. "Then maybe what you need is a pet." He was straying farther from help than he knew. "Now hear me out, I know you're probably going to be like, it's not the same, but ******** it. It's one thing that relies on you. And nobody else. And you'd be surprised the kinds of things you can learn from a pet." The shoddy excuses for pets that Deus offered in the minipet labs never seemed to interest him, but he thought that they might be worth it, for Kostya. He thought in simple terms, and that was a simple answer. Right or wrong. "But see, you're saying it right there." Robert hummed out thoughtfully. "You're transferring 'cause you think it's what you need. You're changing. You're gonna actively try - win or lose, you're gonna try. So why not try to just be Mimsy's friend, for a while? I mean, not her ********' nanny. Her friend. Hang out and do nerd things together. Write some code or math problems or solve world hunger, I don't know. But try. Because you want her in your life. And she wants you. And that is something I do know better than you, buddy. Trust me. Maybe it's the only thing, but it is the one thing I know." He cupped his chin with one hand. "This is probably askin' too much, so I don't expect it. But I wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to try being my friend, too. We don't got much in common, but we've got her. I don't know if it's enough for that, but it's enough to try."
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Posted: Tue Dec 10, 2013 2:54 am
"Need of Deus Ex outweigh needs of Sun." There was more good he could do on a fundamental level elsewhere.
"Dislike minipets," he said, seriously. "They do touching. Touching out of question." He had tried to adopt other people, like one might adopt a pet. America, Molly...neither of them were quite as ordered as he wanted, and he couldn't ask for that from them, nor did he expect them. He genuinely found the company pleasant (Molly more so than America, but they had a beneficial relationship where he would complete tasks that needed doing without complaining, so perhaps it was close enough), even if he just missed Mimsy instead.
He was terrified to disagree, because he wasn't changing. It was simply pulling back the layers of all his preconceived notions, and finding out what laid beneath the thin veneer of blandness he had been harboring his entire life.
"Ve did. Did not only serve. Much...quiet time. Together. Teaching of English, of Russian. Science explanations." For better or for worse: he remembered the days where Mimsy had discovered that the Higgs-Boson had been discovered, and what desolate months those had been. He trained a wary eye on Robert, his lips purse.
"It vent avay." The unspoken follow-up was thus: when she found you.
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