❀ IC INBOX

[intoningly]

[ To the tune of a programmed animatronic voice ]

"This user's voicemail inbox is full. Thank you, goodbye."

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Comments

[extirpator]

[ ... ]

I'm not going to use it against you. If you want to get even with me, you can.

[intoningly]

There is no getting even, asshole.

[ she does not pull her hands from her face, if anything her arms move to mask more of her. a defensive wall of vines made from flesh and metal. ]

You put your hands on me and you took something— something you had no right to see or feel, and you did it because you could, because you knew what it would do. I can’t do that to you, and I don’t want to do that.

[ all of her is tense, but her voice is just a little quieter, a little more tired when she speaks again. ]

Fuck you.

[extirpator]

[ it isn't the worst thing he's done to a person. his blade has run through the bodies of innocent children. of quaking mothers. of desperate fathers. he left the world with nothing, and hadn't even stayed around to take the fall for it.

he speaks bluntly: ]

I panicked. You wrapped your hands around my throat and I... [ he blanks. he doesn't want to understand why he did what he did. the numbness fades to pain if he does. ] felt something. From a long time ago.

[ but then he looks up, and he holds her gaze. ]

You don't want to do that to me because you're a good person.

[intoningly]

[ it's the worst thing anyone has done to her– and she's been beaten, sold, pillaged and killed. she gives herself nothing so that there is nothing to take. this was the supposed to be the one thing no one could ever lay a hand on. ]

It's not about good or bad– I have enough fucked up shit stuck in my head. Last thing I need is to add yours to it. So keep your pity to yourself.

[extirpator]

[ stoically, he cants his head. ]

I don't pity you. You have someone at home waiting for you. So long as you have that, you have a reason to exist.

You may be in pain, but you aren't worth pitying.

[intoningly]

[ Something snaps– vines pulled too taut, threads ripping right down the middle. Instant, angry and hurt. She pulls her hands from her face, fingers balled into fists; she lurches forward just a little. If she was less sick, she might have lunged at him. ]

No one is waiting for me, asshole. I don't exist– that's why I'm here. So shut up and stop talking about me like you know fuckall about anything.

[extirpator]

You — what?

[ and for the first time in this conversation, he reacts — his eyes widen. his mouth parts, and his eyes cast downwards.

he wishes he could see her one last time. he wishes so desperately, but the lunar tear never work in his favor, did it?

his eyes flutter shut. they open again, blearily, as he leans against the wall. ]

That makes two of us.

[intoningly]

[ Zero on the other hand, does not even flinch or so much as look like the news is new to her. This is what she'd assumed– why else would anyone be subjected to a place like this alongside someone like her. ]

What a big fucking surprise.

[ She pulls her knees up to her chest, gaze turned towards the ground. ]

You quarantine viruses if you want to keep them from ruining the whole system. That's what they did with us– what they had to do.

[extirpator]

So it wasn't a choice for you.

[ a silence. ]

...I don't think you were forgotten.

[ his features are the slightest bit sullen as he says that, mouth pulling downwards. ]

The Memory Tree was happy to see you. It recognized you. That means some part of the world still carries your memory.

[ and then he rests his head against the handle of his katana. ]

The people here are kind. I don't have a home to go back to, but they've tried to make one for me here. They'll do the same for you. They already are.

[intoningly]

Is any of that supposed to make me feel better?

[ There's the slighted note of petulance in the way she snaps. If she was a different person perhaps she would stomp or cry. But whatever tears she'd had left he'd forced out of her.

And now she is empty, and she is all the more grateful for it. ]

No one needs to remember and no one should– all shit like that does is make you miserable. It holds you back. I don't care about your tree, and the people here don't care about me. Human-beings screw over people they love, people they share blood with– and you want to convince me complete strangers any fucking reason to care about me? God, you're even stupider than you look.

[extirpator]

[ there's a raise of the brow. ]

Is insulting people what makes you feel better?

[intoningly]

[ She looks up, just to scowl. ]

Just calling it like I see it.

[extirpator]

[ waka flocka OKAY. ]

Get up. If you get proper bedrest, I'll stop talking to you.

[intoningly]

[ ... ]

For how long?

[extirpator]

[ he shrugs!! ]

[intoningly]

That's not an answer!

[extirpator]

Get up.

[intoningly]

No.

[extirpator]

Get up.

[ you're going to get the same reply 12 times in a row i'd say i'm sorry but it's you so i'm not ]

[intoningly]

Bite me, asshole.

[ You're canon familiar so I don't have to apologize for the fact that she's literally not going to get up for 12 tags :/ ]

[extirpator]

Get up. Or else.

[intoningly]

I'm gonna go with 'Or else'.

1/2

[extirpator]

[ he just straight up fucking roundhouse kicks her in the face so she's out cold in one strike ]

[extirpator]

[ she said "or else".

when she comes to, she'll find that she's tucked into a bed — there's a cold, damp cloth draped over her forehead, alongside a glass of water and a bowl of stew to her left.

oh, right, and the newfound bruise she's probably developing on the side of her face has been tended to, at the very least? anyhow, nier can be seen across the room, seated on a stool. his back is turned to her initially, but when he comes to he does take the time to crane his neck back and turn towards her. ]

Your fever's high. You should eat and go back to sleep.

1/3

[intoningly]

[ She wakes with purposeful silence, dejavu giving rise to paranoia. What was it that girl in the kitchen had said? That hell would be reliving the worst day of your life over and over? She reaches under her pillow and finds no knife there.

She lets go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding– today is not that day.

She does not get up until he has turned back around. That's not a strategic choice, it's just how it happens.

She stands, blearily gazing about the room. Her eyes land on the vase of fresh flowers that always seemed to reappear no matter how many times she threw them out. ]