oathshackledbird | Ruby City Mailbox/Inbox

No one can go back. It's what makes the past the past, but that doesn't mean you have to let go of everything. Maybe if you take back a little of it, it will hurt less? Is there something keeping you from playing the piano or dancing here?

[A contemplative looks fills his eyes. After several moments of thought, he finally speaks.]

I get the feeling we are talking about a different kind of hurt than what the lack of humility in people today causes him.

Yes.

[Still with her distant smile she looks up at him and fidgets with the handle of the cup. What the 'yes' actually refers to, she doesn't elaborate, but presses on.]

He'd be angry if he knew I told you. You can't tell him I told you.

[He frowns a little at the vague answer, but doesn't press for now. Instead, he allows her to move the topic back to Tim.]

It must be something very important if he guards it so closely. I will not tell. I promise. The last thing I want is for you to get into trouble when you are just trying to help.

[Hopefully, this will end up better than Chassie's attempt to help did.]

[It's hard to say, as if something stops her, and she chews on her lip hard enough to swell it under her teeth.]

He had a boyfriend. Before. He was in the labs too. They watched each other change until they didn't know each other anymore.

[Suddenly, it feels like something has driven all the air from Diarmuid's chest. He presses his hands flat against the table for a moment and then curls his fingers inward, nails digging into the wood. Focus. Breathe in. Out. Push away the many images that pop into his head of having to watch Lisa Lisa, Oscar, his children, any number of other people he has loved over his life go through such a thing.

He hates how vivid his imagination paints those images.

How would if feel to have your everything taken away like that? Rage. Hate. Red. Black. It would drive most people to madness. He's tasted that kind of madness before and feels it cloud in around his senses for a brief moment before he shoves it away.

Is Tim what Diarmuid would have become if he had never pulled himself out of the madness Kayneth's betrayal plunged him into?]

I-

[Diarmuid pauses, trying to find the right way to phrase his question.]

Is that boyfriend one of you or is he...?

[Yeah, he can't bring himself to finish that.]

[Chari winces before the crashing tidal wave of Diarmuid's suddenly tumultuous emotions. She closes her eyes, grips the cup and sways back minutely, pulling in a sharp breath.]

Yes.

[Said gently, this time she goes on.]

And yes. Both of those things.

[Her reaction to his emotions sends Diarmuid rushing to rein them in. It's not an easy task, though, since once freed, nothing that is usually bottled up goes back to being so willingly.]

Sorry.

[He raises a hand, pressing his fingers against his forehead as if it will help force his emotions back into order.]

It's all just too cruel. By all Above and Below, it's just too much!

It's okay.

[Chari breathes out the words and her shoulders relax, a small bead of blood forming on her lower lip where a tooth cuts into it. She brushes it off with a small motion of one hand, the other picking at a rough spot on the table top.]

He used to be a better person. We were all better people. But we're not... [She inhales, exhales...] We're not.. people.. anymore. What they did to us, what being here did to us, and what Chassie did to us... Don't feel sorry for me, Diarmuid. I'll only hurt you.

That's not true.

[His voice is calmer now, more focused. Her words have brought forward a spark of anger that is just what he needs to bring order to his chaotic emotions.]

Because if it was true, I wouldn't be human either. I'm just a copy of a soul. Magical energy that something no one can even properly explain twisted and formed into the shape of a human. But you, Tim, me. We all still feel human emotions. Even if some of us end up feeling certain emotions more than others.

As long as you feel. As long as you remember how to feel, you are still human no matter what form you are in.

[Chassie quiets, looking down at her hands as she twists them in her lap. Her skin is still pale, freckles standing out starkly against it and she keeps her eyes down when she shakes her head minutely as if in private denial of what he says.]

What if we don't want to?

[It's come up before, but perhaps not to him.]

I remember you said that before.

[And his frown makes it clear he still doesn't like the idea.]

I just still find it hard to understand. Without pain, we can't know happiness. I know hurt can make it tempting to want to be rid of it all, but what would the point of life be without emotions to enjoy it with?

What is the point of life?

[It's an echo, but also a question all on its own. Her voice grows distant and detached for a moment, then she suddenly smiles.]

Do you think we deserve to be happy?

I'm not sure I can tell you that. In order for your point to living to truly be yours, you need to find that answer yourself. For me, I have found helping and protecting others is what makes me happy. Their happiness is my own, however, that is not something I can force on others. I can try to make them understand why I feel that way, but that is all I can do.

[Diarmuid is silent for a few seconds before he answers her second question. It's not because he needs to think on the answer, more so because he is very aware of how much that question reminds him of the one Tim asked about everything needing to have a point.]

Yes, you do, but I realize your definition of happiness is different than mine. I just can't imagine living life without emotions no matter how painful they may be at times.

I can. It's how it was supposed to be, but it didn't.. stick.

[She frowns, head drawn into an oddly angled tilt as her eyes slide away from Diarmuid's. Her mind has gone somewhere distant, though only for a moment before her expression screws up and she shakes her head quickly.]

They didn't know what they were doing. Not really. It was their last chance, but when they let us out, everything went wrong. [Chari purses her lips and rubs one of her eyes with her knuckles.] They thought we'd be obedient, but we weren't. They'd hurt us enough.

Only egoists and the truly desperate allow themselves to think that people they have hurt will ever listen to them.

[This statement applies on the surface to what Chari has just told him. How many times has Diarmuid seen the beaten, battered, and suffering turn into the fiercest fighters he has ever known? He understands why they turned on those who made them how they are. However, the statement is also a warning. How long do they think they can continue to do what they are doing to the residents in the city before said residents find a way to do exactly what they did to their creators?

And which are they? The egoists or the truly desperate?]

So not only are you in pain, but you did once know the peace that lack of pain brings. That is why you can so easily imagine it.

[No wonder not having it makes the pain even worse.]

They thought we were broken, and we were, but not in the way they wanted us to be. We were stronger than them.

[Chari shrugs, rubs her arm, and her attention drifts off to some point in the middle distance a few feet away from her companion. If she grasps the 'warning', it doesn't faze her. Threats rarely faze any of them.]

It isn't the kind of pain that you feel. It's.. hm. [Her fingers fidget together.] A dissonance.

A dissonance.

[Immediately, Diarmuid's thoughts drift to the use of that word in music. Notes not in tune with each other cause it and the difference can becomes very painful to the ear if allowed to build. It might not be exactly what she means, but it does help paint a much clearer picture in his head of how it feels to be them.

Is that why he and Temper never really got along? They resonate on different frequencies and trying to interact just causes too much dissonance?]

I have a great love of music, so I am thinking of it in musical terms, but I think I understand. As much as a person who isn't one of you can anyway.

[His thinking isn't too far wrong. When he speaks it, Chari tilts her head in consideration and then slowly nods, chewing slightly on her lower lip.]

When you play two chords that don't harmonise - is that what you're thinking of? It's unpleasant, and you know why, but you.. try to find the sense in it. There has to be beauty in it, even if it sounds ugly.

[Her lips purse, and she shakes her head.]

What do you think?

[What does he think? That is a good question. When two music notes are played that don't harmonize, most people's reaction is to fix it, not try to find beauty in it. But, that doesn't mean there isn't any beauty there to be found. It's just that no one has taken the time to look.]

I don't see why beauty couldn't be found there. It would probably take people changing their views and their ways of thinking, but just because it is different, doesn't mean it can't also be beautiful. Some people feel that things that are different are the most beautiful of all because of that difference.

[It just takes shifting one's point of view.]

Ruby City Mailbox/Inbox

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject