[Touching... a lecture on empathy. Char tilts his head, letting the words settle, deliberate in his stillness. He could dismiss them, of course, but something in Solomon's tone compels him to pause, to consider.
His eyes drift upward, imagining the stars beyond the ceiling. The thought tugs at him, a yearning he's carried even before reclaiming his previous self.]
Don't flatter yourself that you understand me, Solomon. You know nothing, and yet you presume to lecture.
[Don't try to take a gentle tone with him, either. He's no lost child.]
I'm not looking for a sounding board. Do try to remember that.
Did I ever imply as much? I'm only repeating what you told me when we met, you know. If you won't talk, I'm never going to understand.
[He has to take a moment to wipe at the sweat against his neck - to roll his sleeves up a little further against those seals against his skin, to pull his hair away from his forehead and ears.]
It's not as though I want to sit here and have you prod at me, either. Certainly you should expect some retaliation.
[It's almost laughable now, how forgetting who and what we was along with his long list of sins made him a much better person. Eccentric, sure, and a bit out of touch with most... but better. Kinder. Unburdened by all that baggage, Nishi was largely good.
Yet what lies beneath could not be further from the truth. The whole of his former self was revealed to him in full on Wednesday, stirred by the latent madness this farcical play inspires. What Solomon sees now is nothing virtuous— only fragments of a man who could never endure once compartmentalizing became impossible.
He sighs, rocking upright— and nearly tipping to the floor, managing to catch himself on a retracting curtain. Clinging to it, he edges to his feet. The weight of it all presses down with an oppressively heavy gravity.]
The truth is... I would have been better off staying as I was. "Nishi" was desperate to remember himself. And yet here I am, no wiser, no lighter. Perhaps I was better off without those old memories.
[Oh, well, there he goes. Solomon doesn't move, though he does keep his eyes on where Nishi is heading off to to see if he needs to stop him from doing anything stupid--
...]
So you've remembered who you are.
[That explains quite a lot in the personality difference, then. But when in the world...]
That wasn't what was taken from you, then? Or did someone fill in the blanks for you?
[It's almost painful to remember, dredging up scenes from his nightmares that ache like migraines circling his head. Harder still to explain his situation to Solomon when he can barely think— the floor seems to tilt beneath him, dim light bouncing off the cold, metallic drawers of the morgue, a sickening swirl of stars.]
I don't know precisely... how to describe it to you. But— one day, I awoke out of place. I woke in an unfamiliar space... on a tatami mat, in a small square room with paper doors. My uniform hung there, as did my helmet and mask. I thought them clownish... until I put them on and realized they suited me just fine.
[Does that answer Solomon's question? He doesn't know. Thoughts spiral off his tongue and down an unseen drain.]
I lived that way for some time... believing it was my atonement for the life I'd led before. Now, arriving here, I'm not so sure.
[He hasn't gotten better since being here. If anything, he's backslid, becoming far worse.]
At the moment? No. [Solomon carefully lifts to his feet, just so he can keep Nishi in eyesight.]
I noticed changes in your behavior this evening, yes, but despite that, you seem just as hard on yourself as you were before, if not more. Incomprehensibly so.
Even if you'd been forgiven, you certainly aren't acting like you believe as much.
[He lets out a low, humorless laugh, one that shakes his shoulders slightly as if to dislodge some lingering weight. The dim light catches the edges of his mask and helmet, reminding him of the person he once was and the masks he's worn since.]
...Forgiven? Perhaps. But forgiveness isn't... enough. Not for what I've done. Not for the lives I've shattered, the people I've hurt— even those I care for most.
[Especially them. He slumps slightly against the counter, hands running over its cold surface as if grounding himself to the moment.]
I may have been forgiven by others... but I can't forgive myself. And sometimes, Solomon... sometimes I wonder if I ever will.
[The drug dulls the edges of restraint; he doesn't bother polishing his words, letting them spill freely. His gaze meets Solomon's, unflinching, seeking acknowledgment more than absolution.]
[It feels similar to a conversation they'd had on first meeting, though with far more to fill the cracks - instead of a blind panic at the unknown, this feels far more like the words of a man with weight and clarity to those things that fill him with regrets.]
...Sins are a heavy thing to hold. Even if you know everyone else will move on... some times, I believe it's too hard to let go completely.
[The destruction. The hate. An image of a body, cold on foreign soils at the foot of a fountain.]
[How? How could I ever do that? The first questions that spill to mind are almost frantic, perhaps because Char never has considered letting go. How could he afford to, with so much riding on his shoulders?
He sinks lower, cheek against the cool counter. He's forgotten the water already.]
...You think it's a matter of willingness? That I hold this weight by choice?
[Is Solomon saying that was all his decision in the end?]
[Jeez, Char, please don't fall on the floor... Sighing, Solomon breaks the distance, a hand to Char's shoulder very lightly.]
I only speak from experience. To even think of not holding a guilt close... it feels like a failure at times. An act of cowardice. But those feelings are coming from myself as much as they may from anyone else. If I cannot see them for what they are, it doesnt matter who might forgive me.
There's no need to apologize to me. [That touch strengthens, just slightly, a rub back and forth against his shoulder.]
It's not as though I'm saying such things to condemn you, you know. You're so trapped inside your own heart, Danya, it's hard to say if I know you, or just the shade of you that wears your guilt like a cloak.
[Consoled? The thought feels wrong, unbearably wrong. It's enough to make Char wobble upright, abandoning the idea of fetching water altogether, and stagger back toward the infirmary bed.]
You already know more than you should. Why don't we call it a night?
[...He pauses, his back still to Solomon, but when he speaks, it's in earnest.]
The name Casval may have reached the mouths of the Extras, but I haven't answered to it in a long time. If you know me as anyone, know me as Char Aznable.
["Nishi" has fallen dormant much the same way Casval has— just another mask he wore in another time. Fractured though he was, Nishi had been the better man. He's earned his rest.]
[Face down as he is, Char can listen to the muffled sounds of the tap being turned on, then off. Footsteps, and then something being rested close to his head in his field of vision - a glass, however small, of the water he'd ignored.]
Rest well, then, Danya. May we both be whole in the morning.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cw: drug discussion/drug use
His eyes drift upward, imagining the stars beyond the ceiling. The thought tugs at him, a yearning he's carried even before reclaiming his previous self.]
Don't flatter yourself that you understand me, Solomon. You know nothing, and yet you presume to lecture.
[Don't try to take a gentle tone with him, either. He's no lost child.]
I'm not looking for a sounding board. Do try to remember that.
cw: drug discussion/drug use
[He has to take a moment to wipe at the sweat against his neck - to roll his sleeves up a little further against those seals against his skin, to pull his hair away from his forehead and ears.]
It's not as though I want to sit here and have you prod at me, either. Certainly you should expect some retaliation.
cw: drug discussion/drug use
Yet what lies beneath could not be further from the truth. The whole of his former self was revealed to him in full on Wednesday, stirred by the latent madness this farcical play inspires. What Solomon sees now is nothing virtuous— only fragments of a man who could never endure once compartmentalizing became impossible.
He sighs, rocking upright— and nearly tipping to the floor, managing to catch himself on a retracting curtain. Clinging to it, he edges to his feet. The weight of it all presses down with an oppressively heavy gravity.]
The truth is... I would have been better off staying as I was. "Nishi" was desperate to remember himself. And yet here I am, no wiser, no lighter. Perhaps I was better off without those old memories.
cw: drug discussion/drug use
...]
So you've remembered who you are.
[That explains quite a lot in the personality difference, then. But when in the world...]
That wasn't what was taken from you, then? Or did someone fill in the blanks for you?
cw: drug discussion/drug use
I don't know precisely... how to describe it to you. But— one day, I awoke out of place. I woke in an unfamiliar space... on a tatami mat, in a small square room with paper doors. My uniform hung there, as did my helmet and mask. I thought them clownish... until I put them on and realized they suited me just fine.
[Does that answer Solomon's question? He doesn't know. Thoughts spiral off his tongue and down an unseen drain.]
I lived that way for some time... believing it was my atonement for the life I'd led before. Now, arriving here, I'm not so sure.
[He hasn't gotten better since being here. If anything, he's backslid, becoming far worse.]
cw: drug discussion/drug use
...As the life you knew as "Nishi", I assume?
So what changed? Do you know?
cw: drug discussion/drug use
...You could call it Nishi's life. But what changed? Tell me— do I look like a man who's been forgiven? Or one who never stopped being what he was?
cw: drug discussion/drug use
I noticed changes in your behavior this evening, yes, but despite that, you seem just as hard on yourself as you were before, if not more. Incomprehensibly so.
Even if you'd been forgiven, you certainly aren't acting like you believe as much.
cw: drug discussion/drug use
...Forgiven? Perhaps. But forgiveness isn't... enough. Not for what I've done. Not for the lives I've shattered, the people I've hurt— even those I care for most.
[Especially them. He slumps slightly against the counter, hands running over its cold surface as if grounding himself to the moment.]
I may have been forgiven by others... but I can't forgive myself. And sometimes, Solomon... sometimes I wonder if I ever will.
[The drug dulls the edges of restraint; he doesn't bother polishing his words, letting them spill freely. His gaze meets Solomon's, unflinching, seeking acknowledgment more than absolution.]
cw: drug discussion/drug use
...Sins are a heavy thing to hold. Even if you know everyone else will move on... some times, I believe it's too hard to let go completely.
[The destruction. The hate. An image of a body, cold on foreign soils at the foot of a fountain.]
...
Are you afraid of what might happen, if you do?
cw: drug discussion/drug use
[How? How could I ever do that? The first questions that spill to mind are almost frantic, perhaps because Char never has considered letting go. How could he afford to, with so much riding on his shoulders?
He sinks lower, cheek against the cool counter. He's forgotten the water already.]
...You think it's a matter of willingness? That I hold this weight by choice?
[Is Solomon saying that was all his decision in the end?]
Cw: drug discussion/drug use
[Jeez, Char, please don't fall on the floor... Sighing, Solomon breaks the distance, a hand to Char's shoulder very lightly.]
I only speak from experience. To even think of not holding a guilt close... it feels like a failure at times. An act of cowardice. But those feelings are coming from myself as much as they may from anyone else. If I cannot see them for what they are, it doesnt matter who might forgive me.
cw: drug discussion/drug use
I can't just let it go. These... reminders of my mistakes—they keep me honest. A weight like this should follow a man through lifetimes.
[This is his grave, built brick by bloody brick. Char turns his face away, shielding it from Solomon's view.]
I'm sorry. If your advice had reached me sooner... maybe things would have turned out differently.
[Maybe he could have listened. Maybe, just maybe.]
cw: drug discussion/drug use
It's not as though I'm saying such things to condemn you, you know. You're so trapped inside your own heart, Danya, it's hard to say if I know you, or just the shade of you that wears your guilt like a cloak.
cw: drug discussion/drug use
You already know more than you should. Why don't we call it a night?
[He feels too exposed. Too raw.]
cw: drug discussion/drug use
Would I be able to ask you one last thing, before you lie yourself down to ignore me?
[...]
Who are you really, "Nishi"? Or would you rather keep that buried?
cw: drug discussion/drug use
The name Casval may have reached the mouths of the Extras, but I haven't answered to it in a long time. If you know me as anyone, know me as Char Aznable.
["Nishi" has fallen dormant much the same way Casval has— just another mask he wore in another time. Fractured though he was, Nishi had been the better man. He's earned his rest.]
cw: drug discussion/drug use
Would you like that to stay between us?
cw: drug discussion/drug use
Muffled by the sheets—]
Address me as you usually would... I've already drawn too much pointed attention to myself.
[Throwing a new name in the mix will only confuse people more. Better that it come up in conversation naturally like this, if anything.]
cw: drug discussion/drug use
[Face down as he is, Char can listen to the muffled sounds of the tap being turned on, then off. Footsteps, and then something being rested close to his head in his field of vision - a glass, however small, of the water he'd ignored.]
Rest well, then, Danya. May we both be whole in the morning.