logs | (catch-all)

[It is most certainly coercion. Fukawa freezes like a deer in headlights the second she spots that rosy head of hair, but it's too late. She's Esmeralda's last hope and her tongue is tied, her head short-circuiting. An easy mark for a woman in need. Fukawa is dragged over to the table and abandoned, left alone to face the man her alter had mauled.

She doesn't take a seat. Her shaking hands knot together in a fretful clench at her heart.]

...

[What does she even say? He's furious. He can barely hold in his loathing, just look at him.]

......

[He'd rather sit across from a rabid bear than deal with her. He probably wishes she were dead. Might be thinking of ways to do it right now.]

......Aren't you g-going to run?

Edited 2022-12-05 02:59 (UTC)

[ ...it's strange, seeing her up close for more than 5 seconds this time. she really is different enough from her alter that, while the memory of syo might make him internally cringe, toko's presence itself doesn't really carry the same effect.

(they really are two different people, sharing the same body.)

he can't help being curious, an astounding lack of self-preservation diluting his dread. and, he hasn't noticed her around lately (lol he doesn't know she was arrested)—figures if she really wanted to cause him trouble, she definitely would've by now. they're neighbors, after all. ]

Nah, don't think so. I've got some questions for you better asked in person.

[ never know when her device might get 'filched' again. ]

[There's a sharp intake of breath, a cringe back. Her teeth are gritted and her eyes are pinned on him.]

I...I-I supp-p-pose...

[There's a cringe that cinches her whole body. Fukawa swallows and finds her mouth arid as Saharan sand. A wobbling hand taps onto the chair opposite and she forces herself into the seat. She looks like she's sitting atop a handful of thumbtacks, and her hands pull ceaselessly at an overlong lock of hair.]

Th-there's n-n-not usually...a chance for q-questions...

Edited 2022-12-06 17:20 (UTC)

...Because of Syo? [ dead men tell no tales, etc. ] Is that why?

[ while there isn't any threat to his tone, it's still a bit of a brusque approach. he figures it's not really something to be tiptoed around, anyway. he lays his hands palms up on the table, crystals collected into his right hand, and nods for her to offer hers as well. ]

...Has it always been like this?

[ not the question he wants to ask right now, but he figures it might be easier to get answers out of her if this is framed more as a conversation than an interrogation. ]

[The name gives her a ripple of revulsion. So she'd even introduced herself? That's either better for Fukawa, as it splits the blame, or far worse. The name ties her to any other crimes Syo sees fit to put her personal stamp on. Or heaven forbid, if one of her past victims shows up.]

Wh-what do you think? [The answer is obvious. Her eyes flick to that beckoning hand and she swallows a fistful of intangible rocks. Is he serious?

Esmeralda could be back any minute. This is the only quest on the noticeboard at the moment that sounds remotely bearable, and she can't lose a chance to make what little money she can. That woman may ban her from returning if she refuses to comply now.] You — you b-better not break my fingers...

[That trembling hand settles atop his with the lightest of pressures. It's almost animalistic, a wild creature skirting around an offered treat. She's ready to yank it back at a moment's notice, her mouth set in a grim line and her eyes wide as dinner plates.]

Not always. B-but...since I was sm-small... [If there were warning signs she's lost them to time. The first kill blotted out everything and shot her nerves, and all she knows of Syo is what came after.] I was about t-ten, I think. She...

[Hoo boy. Even her lip is twitching now.]

The first boy I liked rejected me. Th-then he moved away. And I w-woke up in...in this sch-school I'd never been to.

[Fuck, is she crying now?

The cold tile still presses against her skin now and again. She feels that smooth ceramic now. The sticky splatter that coated it.]

She'd p-p-pinned him to the wall...

Edited 2022-12-07 16:06 (UTC)

[ break her fingers? does he really come off as a bad guy? (maybe she's onto something, his shadow chimes back.)

contrary to her expectations however, he barely curls his fingers against her hands—only enough to provide the contact that the crystals need in order to activate. even so, some sort of trigger has been pulled, a truth set into motion that's more terrible than he could've imagined.

she was ten.

he listens quietly, studying the structure of her thin hands. maybe best not look at her face when she's crying. girls don't usually like being scrutinized when they are. ]

...So you don't remember anything she does. Or at least, you're not aware of it.

[ was that what syo was planning to do to sylvain...? to anyone else toko has eyes for? ]

Do you have any way of controlling her?

[ maybe it's cruel to press these questions when the girl's clearly revisiting a traumatic experience, but sylvain is not always nice. not where his friends are potentially involved. ]

[Is it more comforting that he won't look her in the eye? Or a sign of mounting distaste? His lip isn't curling and he's neglected to crack her fingers backwards. Rather, he seems to be skirting an edge. He's at the table with her, but there's a border neither dares to cross. He's keeping distance as he holds her hand. Refusing to acknowledge the wretched confession, not beyond the logistics of it.

She's lost the appeal before she opened her mouth. Tears slick the edge of her cheek and chase the line of her jaw. Quickly she swipes at them, using her sleeve and replacing the hand with furtive urgency. As if he might not notice were she quick enough.]

No, I d-don't. [Remember. Sometimes it's for the best and sometimes for the worst.] I f-feel what she feels sometimes. And the same is true for her. Just...it all comes out different.

[Fukawa lowers her head. Now she doesn't want to look either. Control. It's the same question the Future Foundation had for her. She'd quivered all over then, too, emerging from hell straight into an interrogation, all while her classmates were clothed, fed, and rested on plush beds. She wouldn't be worth that dignity until she exorcized herself, and she's still waiting on that verdict.]

I — it's n-not how you think. I had a tazer. [Irrelevant. It's not here, and the purpose was to allow Syo out in short bursts as needed. He would need the context of why, and she's not sure how much time he's got to spare. Every second counts.] If I f-faint, or sneeze, we switch. Um.

[Her lip catches between her teeth. She bites it near to bleeding, raking over his face. He's still so beautiful. It's not fair. That he should have it all. That she can't have him, in any degree. That he's right to deny her everything. Everyone is.]

She hasn't done anything in years! [It spills out quick, nearly all one frantic word. Her breath comes short and another tear rolls down, but she keeps it coming. It's like someone's running a timer while she takes the stand.] N-not since I was fifteen! I swear! She might have acted unruly b-but people weren't getting hurt! It was d-different, b-b-because, b-because I had...

[What does she remember?

Gym was her worst subject. Track and field was hell. Hiding beneath the bleachers, never stepping in the pool. She thinks Maizono was the one who tugged her into a game of tennis, clapping her on the back when she scored her first point. It's hard to say. Most of those sunny days come in glitches and sputters. She's certain everyone knew each other better. Far better than they did now, the ones that were left. She'd gotten reset, rejected again, and it was only by Byakuya-sama's orders and Komaru—

Komaru.

Can I call you Toko-chan?]

Because I had people.

[Can he tell what she means? He might have to. Her whole body curls in on itself and her hair falls over thin shoulders, her glasses droop, her bones shake with how she chokes back the fit.

People were being kinder here. But god, she misses Komaru so much. It would have been better to dissolve away than to keep on like this.]

[ there's much that's unspoken on toko's end, though through the stuttered words, sylvain imagines there's a story he's not being told. all he has to work off of are these scraps of truth and high-strung emotion—and he doesn't quite understand. can't fully connect with what she's trying to tell him.

she can feel, but she can't remember. it all comes out different. (what does?) even if he knew what the purpose of a 'tazer' was, why would she willfully knock herself unconscious? ]

Guess I did find you out cold in the maze. But even a sneeze...?

[ with the severe chill lately, how many times has she switched since? and just how many people did syo kill in those five years? (an entire war can happen in that time.)

he doesn't think toko is just spinning up excuses to avoid blame—her grief and terror is quite real—he'd be blind not to see it. and he wants to sympathize with her, because he understands that sometimes the people around you are your only salvation, for better or worse. he doesn't necessarily think he's a better person than she is. (he thinks they're both monsters and cowards alike, albeit in different ways.)

he's wary, however, and his shadow limits how much good will he'll extend. ]

All right.

[ his voice is calm enough, expression relaxed. ]

Listen, Fukawa. [ nothing changes in his posture. his hands remain open, crystals slowly collecting the shared warmth of their palms. ]

I don't really care what happens to me. But if Syo tries to pull that stunt with Dimitri or Felix [ or anyone else he cares about ], we won't be having this conversation a second time.

[ he will kill her. ]

[He's gracious enough to give her a moment. It's sorely needed. By the time he says, "All right," she's wheezed back to a taut facsimile of control. She may breathe through her mouth, her face may have splotched puce and the tears come quick, but she meets his eyes. She's listening.

What did she expect? Mercy?

I͍̼̠t͔͍͜ w͚̦a͔̪s͖͍̼ a̝̼͉l̘̫͍w͎̝͜a̢̝͇y̘͜s͍̟͓ g̻̠̠o̢͓i̼̝͕n͉̻͖g̟͇̺ t͕̦̠o͍͖̻ e̝͙n̝͍̟d̞̙ t̻͎͜h̠̪͎i̡̞̙s͎͎̞ w̠͓̟a̡͍̠y̫͕͔.̦̻̻ Y̺̙͜o̦̪u͉͕͔ k͔̘͚n̫̼͎e͙͓͖w̟̺̘ t͎̻͕h̢̟̦a̻̼͚ț̠,̞̞͎ d͖͍͙i̢̡͚d̘̦̫n̙̼'̙̻͓ț͕̪ y̠̻̫o̠͉͕u͓̺͜?̠͍͙

He could do it. They all could. Syo is powerful but she's not something mystic. At the end of the day she's half their size with none of the training, just a flimsy vessel of blood and bone. She'd have a target on her back for the rest of her days here, and no circumstantial crisis to save her.

Her jaw goes stone stiff. The words punch out of it just the same.]

I won't let it.

[Dimitri. Felix. Sylvain. All the rest too. She's met more kindly faces here than she has in nineteen years on Earth. If this is where she makes that final slip, then she deserves whatever Sylvain sees fit to give her.]

I don't w-want to be that weak-willed girl anymore. I won't make excuses. I won't let her do anything again. I made a promise.

[Her fingers have crooked as if to claw his wrists. She flinches and flexes them again. That simmering ire shoots into the foul sneer on her lip. Maybe she looks manic, with the wet tracks and the red rage and her teeth on bitter display. Whatever. If he comes away from this still thinking she's a psychopath, then so be it. It's not up to him to decide what she is.

I͓̫͔f͕̠̝ y̟̫͓o͖̻̺u̢͕̠ c̝͔o̡̠̻u̝͍̪l̢̘̞d̪͇͉ c͉̠͜o̘̪͎n͍̼t͙͍͍r̢̼͇o̡͕̟l͚̝̦ h̡͇͔e̙̻̦r̫̝͜ y͎̠͜o̺̦͜u̻͔ w̫͍͜o̠͚͙u͓͇l̡̻̫d̪͕̫n̢͍͚'͍͇͍t͚̠͇ b̝̫̺e̫͔͖ h̻̻̫a̟̝͉v͕̦i͕̺͜n͇̦͓g͚̞͚ t̙̟̼h̡̫͙i̡͕͎s̡͍̞ c̫͖͉o̼̼͉n̡͇͎v̻͔e͇͚͙r͉͚͕s̙͍͜a͉̝̻ț̘̙i̟̟̦o̟͕͖n͕̻͖.̻͕͎

Shut the fuck up.]

And if you're t-too slow to fix it, I'll b-bite my tongue out and finish it myself!

[ she can't be trusted, his shadow tells him. she's just acting like this so you'll let down your guard again. don't be a fool.

her declaration is still preferable to her playing the vicim, sylvain thinks. maybe he doesn't harbor much trust in her, but there is a sense of appreciation that she's willing to deal with matters personally. besides, either she means what she says, or is an incredibly convincing liar. (and no offense, but sylvain doesn't really know her for her subtlety.) ]

...I'll hold you to it, then.

[ take care of it, or i will.

he doesn't say much else on the matter, just lets the crystals continue to work their magic. shifts them around in his palms like food in a pan, wondering if it might affect heat distribution. ]

[Her eyes narrow. Her glower could set tinder ablaze, but soon she rips it aside. She sears the grout of the enamel floor tiles instead, biting back more bile and brimstone. There was nothing more to say on the subject. She'd just dig her own grave trying.

Worst of all, the crystals don't feel halfway charged yet. Why can't someone else come in and finish for her? She wants to leave. She wants to never see him again.

Y̝̻̘o̞̝̦u͙͍ o͙̟u͓͚͙g͓̙h͖̻͖t̻͉̞ t̝̺̝o̙̪͜ c͍̝̫l͔̞͔a͔̝͜w̼͜ t̡͎͜h̼͉̼a͍͕t͖̼̦ s̡̠̪e͕̟͕l̪͙f̘̺͖-̝̼̙r͔̘i͓̝͍g̝͖͕h̡͉̻t͖͇̫e͎̙͇o̟͉͕u͓͓͔s̢͓͎ f͍̪͇a̢͓̻c͇͉e̼̼ o̡̙͚f̺̝̞f͙̺̝.̞̻̟

Fukawa shifts in her seat and wrenches her eyes shut. As if that could shut up the nasty little pissant riding shotgun in her head.]

So what n-now? [This dead air is cloying even to her. She has to drown out her shadow one way or another, and Esmeralda didn't even leave the radio on.] Are w-we just going to sit here seething at each other for half an hour?

Who said I was angry?

[ says sylvain, who just issued a 19-yo girl a death threat...... but no, this sort of thing doesn't get blood boiling. just the opposite—he's ruthlessly cold.

he doesn't mind playing it off though, if she feels small talk would be preferable to silence. he can pretend and lie through his teeth all day. ]

Hmm. You got another quirky story to share? Like the four-hundred drunken rabbits.

[ (to think their first meeting had been so benign...) ]

[She gives him a flat stare. Sure, whatever he says. Even if he's not angry about being here, he's nowhere near happy either.

Then he comes in with a sucker punch.]

D-don't make fun of me?! [If nothing else, it snaps her out of the stiff and bitter contempt. Her hands almost lift away to bury her burning face.]

Ugh! Y-you must have been laughing your head off the s-second I left! So stupid...c-can't believe I r-ran my mouth like that...should have hurled myself off a cliff instead...

[ god, they are so insufferable ]

Just making conversation.

[ "conversation." this is more like two hostile rats being put in a maze (of social interaction) together. that said, it is somewhat fascinating to see her unfiltered train of thought point-blank... reminds him a bit of someone else, albeit far more nihilist. ]

There's really no need to go that far...

[ fling herself off a cliff...? even sylvain wouldn't suggest that, and besides, he hadn't laughed at her in the first place. ]

I didn't notice anything strange.

[Just the worst.]

Oh, I'll bet you didn't.

[Just look at him. Look at how he acts. All cool and casual, never a hair out of place, a dazzling smile with the perfect percentage of teeth. She knows his type exactly.]

You probably have idiot sluts hanging off of you d-day and night, spouting off all kinds of bullshit. What's one more moron in the mob?

Edited (Icon repeat) 2022-12-15 18:02 (UTC)

[ crying that they are both misogynists... ]

Did you decide that just now?

[ there was a time sylvain probably would've held the same, savage sentiment towards women, but the way it's being framed at present rubs him the wrong way. or could be neither are them are in a good mood and are just taking everything the worst way possible... (not that it's not an awful thing to say.)

whatever the case, he's not keen on carrying out this discussion any further—it hits much too close to home, and it isn't any of toko's business who sylvain keeps in his company. ]

...Nevermind I asked. Let's just go back to "seething at each other."

[ he's so done here... (we can start a new and better thread sobbu) ]

(catch-all)

Hey handsum

hi qt ;^J

i really had to squint to figure out what that face was, am i getting old???

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CW: child murder

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CW: implied suicidal threat

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