06 . the sleepy town expedition.

[necrolord]

Who: necrolord, Gideon, Harrow, Paul, Kaworu, "Shannon," Mako, Ford, Shiro, Ruby, Luna, Faith, Willow, Ezra, Zhongli, Perell.
What: An intentional family-and-friends roadtrip to a forbidden holy ruin. A less-intentional catacombs adventure.
When: 3/14.
Where: Sleepy Town and the Catacombs.

Content Warnings: Sleepy Town-typical themes of grief, loss, and surreal landscapes. Catacombs-typical horror per the March event. Also, note all the usual warnings of this character.

[ See this doc for info! ]

Comments

[peripheries]

Mm.

[Either way, Kaworu takes it as a smile and returns it, one of those soft smiles that makes it clear how many of his other smiles are cobbled together to hide other feelings. Feelings of being out of place and uncertain that he didn't even know existed under the surface as he claimed he didn't feel like humans.]

To be able to experience emotions that you can't feel in everyday life and explore them.

[Well. Paul didn't say "explore", Kaworu just assumes.]

[terriblepurpose]

That's right.

[Paul nods, a slight bob that gives way to a bird-like tilt as he looks to Shinji once more. He lets the ripple of protective distaste roll through and past him. He considers the slight, youthful fragility of the boy, the thinness of his wrists, the contextualizing details of an outfit that has revealed itself as a uniform.

Whatever he sees in this boy-who-isn't is projection. Paul knows that. But he also knows what this place is about, now.]

What if we see this as that? A play. It's not real, so you can say anything you want, and so if he comes here, you'll have already practiced. You don't have to get it right this time.

[peripheries]

[Red eyes glance past Paul's and over at Shinji. Just standing there, looking hopeless as he always does and Kaworu remembers wanting to give him hope. Thinking he could be hope.

He opens his mouth to form words but he can't. Not because he has none but because there's so many and they all threaten to spill out like cacophonous vomit. "See, I don't need you anymore." "Look, I'm different from how I was back then." "Why didn't you just listen when I tried to be your friend? We could have stopped all of this?" "Maybe I asked too much of you."

There's a small shake of his head.]

I can't. It's... Maybe that's something for humans. And not me.

[His tone tinged with bitterness but also quiet undertones of self-reproach, the sort used when preparing to be the subject of disappointment.]

[terriblepurpose]

[We're not human, Kaworu said to Sayo, we're monsters</>, and Paul should have stopped him then, before he broke the rest of his chest open in a faint pop of thin bone.]

Why should we get to lay claim to that? What makes us so deserving, and you not?

[He brings his hands up to Kaworu's shoulders, fingers skimming his arms (the way he's still afraid to let go, to lose track) as they rise. He puts weight into them, the drag of gravity that Kaworu so easily defies, that Paul's bound by.]

It's all right if you can't. You don't have to. But you should know that I don't know what to say to mine, either. So what does that mean about me, if it's for humans?

[There is no circle I'd draw without you in it, he should have said. To Kaworu, to Gideon, to Harrow.]

There's a difference between being a human, and being a person. You might not be one. That doesn't mean you aren't the other.

[peripheries]

It it about deserving...?

[He mumbles, more to himself than to Paul. There's a difference between human and being a person. Midoriya had said something similar to him, thanking Kaworu for seeing him as himself when beasthood threatened to take hold. Paul had apologized for being human when Kaworu had cried and yet human boy's eyes had remained dry.

He'd always seen himself as on the edge of humanity, like them, but not enough like them to live in their world. Too different, too strange, too dangerous. But perhaps humanity was the circle he thought it was, with clear and defined boundaries.

The weight of Paul's hands is grounding, they pull him down into a little place where he fits perfectly for once (or like every time Paul does). He almost doesn't want to answer, savoring the small moment where they're in a little circle together with dividing lines of labels and categories.]

I suppose. Just a person then. Like me. Maybe nothing else fits at all.

[terriblepurpose]

Nothing else has to.

[This isn't a puzzle that needs to be solved in one day. It might not be a puzzle to solve at all. Kaworu isn't the only one whose mind is changing about what it means to be, whose growth is measured in pearls of realization formed around cutting grit.]

And there's nothing we do that you can't, if you want to. There's nothing wrong with not wanting to. There's nothing wrong with you.

[Not the way that Kaworu thinks there is, but Paul still isn't here to pull him apart. Kaworu is his charge, his sworn responsibility. He's Paul's friend, fickle and vexing as he can be. This place doesn't get to make him feel otherwise, while Paul's here to remind him.]

[peripheries]

[Kaworu gives Paul a rueful smile. Just a soft upturn at the left side of his mouth before his lips fall back into a drawn line. A rather perfect mirror of what counts as a smile for Paul these days.

Perhaps there's nothing wrong in this instance of not wanting catharsis but there's certainly much wrong with him. He's entire existence is wrong. A combination of two opposing forces. Nothing fits together entirely right. Like he's held together by tape and little pieces of string.

But that's neither here nor there. He's learned enough by now that it's not the time to have this conversation. Or maybe ever. It's not like it's a secret from anyone who knows him.

So instead there's just a nod.]