He told me he was trying to make a point. He can access the same sorts of things CCCorp can access, and I think he's been trying to use them as ways to just make players think about what's going on. Making us wonder why that kind of information is even in the game.
I got mad at first. With my armor set. But he said it was just created from memories. I think he does want to help us if we choose to stay, but there must be only so much he has access to.
[As far as what happened to them...
He gives the space some silence, gripping his weapon. Two more blows to a dummy. Both as medicore and shallow as the first. (7,6) It just makes him more frustrated, whipping the blade out from the dummy with a harsh exhale, then another.]
I think... what happened to you, and to me... I think it was a threat.
( He doesn't pull the blade back. He only drives it further in, the wood splintering, the fabric straining.
He doesn't know what's under his skin right now. He's not indignant he was used as some pawn for some squabble - he got up just fine. Not like Barrett. Barrett was the one who had it bad. )
[He tries a different dummy, a little less form behind his anger. The lance goes cleanly through the chest and shoulder (15) - if the dunny weren't grounded, Barrett would be hoisting it off the ground.]
CCCorp knew about my arrangements with the university. My scholarship. I couldn't have played otherwise..
If someone figured out I was talking to DV, maybe they wanted to scare me off. Or distract me. But it wasn't a break of my agreement, so they just... made sure I was busy.
[Triple Wield goes off, draining his SP as he makes three pointedly rough thrusts of his weapon. More force than aim. (3,8,9)
( Too deep in - he tests the pull of the hilt, but he finds it fully lodged, unwilling to come out (1). The poor dummy, by now, has the broad claymore run halfway through him.
It's irritating - having even this outlet denied to him, for even a moment.
He will repeat, then: )
And what makes you believe him? That CC Corp did these things, that DV's motives are good?
His blade is removed, and he doesn't go for another strike, trying to let out another breath. Let the anger roll off. He normally didn't let things like this get to him so deeply. Why now?
...]
DV doesn't know what happened with your glitch, or mine. He didn't even know why I was gone until I came back. What I think about the threats... it's just my thoughts. Not DV's.
I don't have any proof about CCCorp. Just like my leg. And I can't say that everything DV says is something I understand, or something that I can prove. Like... how not everything that's deleted here stays deleted.
But I still believe him. He doesn't want Fragment to be turned into something like a weapon. And he doesn't want to see anyone else suffer.
Mithrun kicks at the dummy suddenly, hard enough to break the dummy inward around its wound (11). He keeps his heel dug into its stomach as he twists his blade out, leaving a mauled mess in its wake - though it cleans itself up well enough. )
... What do you mean, "what's deleted doesn't stay deleted"?
( He isn't answering the rest, which may bode good or ill. It doesn't matter to him, though, to comment on Barrett's faith just yet, because he proceeds: )
Have you met him physically? The administrators seem to have oversight in our inboxes.
[He watches Morgan rip the dummy to shreds to free his weapon, shaking his head when the smaller man had his gaze free again.]
I don't know. He mentions it sometimes, that there are things CCCorp tries to remove from Fragment that won't completely go away. Like sweeping things under a rug. I don't always understand it. But... something out there really hurt him. Something that CCCorp knows about, but refuses to handle, just like deleting things.
[At the second question his mouth opens, as though to answer... but he stops, a physical halting with a look of frustration towards the ground.
Another attempt, and nothing happens, like he can't bring himself to answer.
Mm.
With a tense range of motion, he steels back and chucks his lance. It clips a dummy on the shoulder (5) and buries into the ground behind it. There's a curse under his breath.]
...He has to be more careful than that. But he's aware about the inboxes now. He knows the admins don't like him.
( The blade comes off it with a dangerous swing back, enough force that Mithrun's weight lurches back onto his heels and a leg goes back and digs into the dirt to keep his footing, but he regains control.
He does not, however, swing again instantly. He had noticed Barrett's apparent - hesitation? and it rings familiar. )
... If ( if ) you can't use the inbox and you can't meet him in person, then how do you talk to him?
[The hesitation comes back, even as he watches Mithrun tumble with a momentary step forward before his balance corrects itself.
He doesn't answer. The frustration on his expression grows, but the silence stretches, as though he's suddenly either grown too stubborn or too reluctant to talk.
Instead, he goes to retrieve his weapon from the ground.]
...Sorry.
[It's quiet. And he looks unhappy, having to say as much.]
He clicks his tongue. It really would've been better if Barrett had spoken to him in reality, without this - apparently - bullshit filter.
He puts his hands out for his sword. )
... Tell DV to talk to me. I'll swear an oath of loyalty, or whatever he wants.
( He doesn't trust DV or CC Corp, but DV is willing to talk, and the admins aren't. Starting down any path, even a wrong one, is better than no path at all. )
[His eyes trace to Morgan's outstretched hand, that familiar cloud of guilt heavy even though he tries to square himself up, handing over the weapon with a firm grip. Knock yourself out, man.]
...Mn. I want you to be able to talk to him, too.
I don't know if he'll say yes right now. He's... [He looks off to the side, trying to gather his words.] --I think he doesn't trust people easily. Or doesn't know how. But he's smart. So...
Only do it if you mean it, Morgan. I don't want DV to go back into hiding. And...
[An arm is extended so that Beel can rest a hand against Morgan's arm - brief, easy enough to push away from, only to draw attention and try to meet that fierce gaze with one of compassion behind stony features.]
...You staying safe... it means a lot more to me right now.
( The weapon is heavy in his palms - it still feels strange, sometimes, that he can carry it, when the weight it has as it comes down for a strike feels thrice as much as this. This game feels so real, but - it's not real. (Would that make them not real, as well, if the connection from mind and body is severed? He had declared so confidently that the fish and Zelkova were not "real," because they had no link to reality. Would he disqualify themselves from that privilege, too?) Somewhere in his anger, that the door had been locked behind them, he feels unanchored - like he'd walked too deep into the ocean, and he'd lost sense of the ground.
Then he feels Barrett's touch at his arm again, and his attention drifts up to meet the certainty of Barrett's gaze. It feels a little like when Barrett had held his hand at sea.
A beat, and he shifts the weight to one hand, so the hand opposite of the shoulder Barrett has a hand on can lay over Barrett's own. His gaze rests on their hands instead. )
... I don't know if I trust him with you. ( The wording here is particular - like it's DV who has Barrett in his care, and not Barrett who's worrying after him. ) His story sounds too clean.
( And Barrett is someone with a lot of empathy who, clearly, is very taken with such a clear-cut tale. Mithrun doesn't know if the whole story is actually suspicious or not!! He can't read into these things!! But he doesn't like the chance that Barrett is being taken advantage of - never mind their situation. For all Mithrun knows, both sides are using the beta testers for some sort of gain. )
I'm not leaving you to handle this on your own. Give me the chance to be with you.
( Even if the choice is ultimately up to DV whether to trust Mithrun and all his aggro or not. Mithrun clearly intends to be well-behaved to get in on this so Barrett isn't soloing this (sure, maybe DV is talking to other people, but Mithrun doesn't know who and therefore isn't gonna trust Barrett with them either) - he can't promise he will be well-behaved. but god he will try. and that will get him a little cheap gold star for the attempt, maybe, hopefully, )
[A slight smile spreads on his features. His eyes soften at the edges, letting the base of his palm press a little harder into Morgan's weight. Both a reassurance, and an acceptance of the touch, the sentiment.]
I won't be on my own.
[There's conviction behind the words, looking down at Mithrun and remembering their talks while together in the hospital bed, remembering Morgan saying he was enough. Remembering Morgan saying that he trusted him. It tugs a bit, hurts a bit, that Morgan won't leave this for him to handle. But three seconds of thought, even for him, lead to the assumption that Morgan doesn't mean it from a bad point of view.
Morgan trusts him, doesn't he? Morgan thinks he's enough... even if he doesn't think the same. And he wonders if Morgan's words, in this moment, echo the same sort of fear he'd felt at the start of their talk.
Don't go somewhere someone else can't follow. Let me help you stay alive.
He lets his touch slip upwards to cup Morgan's face. To keep their gazes together. To quietly plead to look at him, believe him, see his honesty. Even if he knows his actions so far, at least with DV, might just show a young man that doesn't care enough to share what matters.
He knows what matters. Under his gaze, under his touch, that thing that always makes his chest feel full to bursting.]
I promised you. I can't protect anyone if I can't keep myself safe, either.
But I trust him. And I trust you. So... [His fingers curl lightly against Morgan's jawline.] No matter what he says... can you keep trusting me?
Whether we're together or apart, I still want to be enough for everyone. I know I have a chance, now. I know it. [He can. He has to be. He has all the tools he should need here... Even if it feels like he's struggling to keep his head above the water.
A beat, as his expression softens more, as though he's trying to let a wall not come up quite so fast.]
( He lets his hand fall. It's frustrating. There is a path here but there is a wall and he can't take the path and he can't see past the wall and it's not that he has no faith in Barrett, he just - like he'd had to be held still at the stadium and the waiting room, he doesn't like staying put. He can't be sure Barrett's fine unless he's there with him. He has to open the box.
But he doesn't miss the earnest sentiment in Barrett's gaze, the way it pleads for his trust and patience.
It's frustrating. But this frustration comes from some feeling he can't place, doesn't know the name of. )
... You don't have anything to prove, except to yourself. ( The last and most important person to convince, in the end. ) But this matters to you. So I'll trust you.
( He hates how this is up to DV now. His frustration is apparent, but at least he knows better than to lash out at Barrett.
If anything, he can hold tight to the reassurance that Barrett means to stay safe and alive. That's all anyone can promise right now - a declaration of intent.
He turns his cheek very slightly into Barrett's palm, his voice a little softer, almost a mutter, even though he's not admitting anything he hasn't said before - it expresses the tenderness of feeling, the raw and exposed heart beneath the bony plate, more than anything. )
... I'd rather be there. I'd rather be with you than not.
( Even if the frustration makes him feel like he could body Hien and DV at once ((reasons DV doesn't want to see him)). )
[There's nothing he can do to make sure that want comes to fruition, and promising as much he knows is cruel. So he doesn't.
His free hand finds rest against the hilt of Morgan's sword as he takes a step closer and leans in. Just enough to rest his temple against Morgan's hair, his touch lingering as the hand at his jaw traces down his neck. Not quite a hug, not quite a meeting of lips, but the desire to be close beyond a touch. It's a sensation that's familiar, if not a different taste in how it warms him.
Would you hold my hand until I fall asleep?]
I think... I feel the same.
You're here in front of me... I don't want to take it for granted.
[A slow exhale, rustling strands of hair, the heat just barely coasting Morgan's ear.]
I'm sorry I can't give you more. It makes me sad to see you upset like this.
( Some part of him could suggest this isn't Barrett's fault - it's the circumstance, styled by CC Corp and DV; but the other part of him suggests it is Barrett: for his faith, for which he may be punished; for his conviction, still, that he has something to prove. It's the sort of frustration you feel when you're worried about a person you care badly for - as unfamiliar as this language is to Mithrun, even now.
Barrett's weight feels real against him, little as he really leans onto Mithrun. It's warm, warm as it was in the hospital - and if he lets his eyes close, for a moment he can think they're still there, before all this happened. He's conscious of how that warmth traces along his jaw, his neck. )
... You're frustrated, too. ( His eyes flutters open in reflex when he feels Barrett's warm breath so faintly brush his sensitive ear, but he doesn't shift his head, or push away. ) ... I can't fix it.
( He sinks the tip of the sword into the dirt again, and he finds Barrett's hand at its hilt, and he tangles their fingers together, hilt between their palms, as if locking them there. )
... And you can't stay here.
( If Barrett's called away to some errand for DV - or, even simply, is affected by some condition, some effect, caused by the game... Mithrun has always been at peace, picturing himself the first to go - but if Barrett leaves first? If Barrett finds himself injured worse, even here, in this digital place? )
[The fingers laced with Morgan's squeeze tight nonetheless. For now, he's not going anywhere.]
I feel the same way, sometimes. When I remember what it is you want most. That... I can't ask you to stay. It makes me feel helpless.
But it's not my job to fight that fight for you. Or to change your mind. I just... [Another exhale, as he presses his lips into Morgan's hair.] All I can do is tell you how I feel. My frustration isn't your fight, either.
[It's where trust had to come into play, especially in these moments where both had factors outside themselves driving them away from one another into an unknown. Something they couldn't talk about, something they couldn't share.
There's a pause, letting himself withdraw just enough to try and look down towards Morgan. Still close, still nothing else in his vision or senses but the man in front of him, eyes searching. ]
...Do you remember anything from when you were unconscious on the bridge? I told you something, then. When I thought you'd might have been gone for good.
( His grip tightens on Barrett's in turn. For now, they're right here.
He doesn't answer Barrett's dialogue on his revenge - but he hears it, and he'd not thought how it might feel the same, when viewed from the other side of the fence. When faced with loss - strangely, given he'd felt like he'd had nothing left to lose - he understands so marginally what it means to inflict it on another.
Turning his gaze up to meet Barrett's, eyebrows so slightly knit, the sight of Barrett a full eclipse, it's - easy, easier, to say he likes being with him. Maybe it would even be easy to find the words to say he'd like to find him after Fragment - stringing together thoughts and ideas blithely and carelessly like a child babbling, learning to talk.
It's just, the scary part is the follow-up: and then I'll quit my revenge; and then I'll try to live. It seizes his stomach with an icy dread, and leaves him with a cold anger to big to stay in his body. He doesn't know what to do.
He shakes his head, after he thinks back for a time to his deep sleep. He can't recall Barrett's voice; vaguely, his features color with curiosity. )
... No. I don't remember anything. What did you say?
Mn. It probably sounds strange now, since you didn't die.
[He's said a lot. Some of it he knows is just repeat of ideals he's shared with Morgan before - echoes of what he wishes Morgan could have done and been.]
Hien let me stay with you alone for a little while. And I thought of the things you could have done and learned if you had more time. You could have grown old, and proven so many people wrong. [One person in particular.] I told you that. I told you I wished I could have been able to see it.
Wherever you had gone, I just hoped you'd find a way to feel a little more whole again. That whatever was out there would let you have that much.
[A last spiteful victory, perhaps. A kindness that life wasn't bringing him.
Barrett's eyes falter, drifting down. Voice quiet as the fingers against Morgan's neck curl and drift down his shoulder.]
...I didn't want him to win over you. I still don't.
[His mouth thins, a flicker of frustration on his own. But it's a context that feels like a mirror.]
I know you don't want DV to take me. And he won't. I don't think it's like that. But... I don't want that man to take you, either.
( There is some measure of him that wonders if he really could do these things, even with more time; there is so much of him that doubts. But Barrett speaks with such certainty, such faith, that Mithrun begins to wonder - what does he see? What does he feel, palm to cool skin? Mithrun sees himself in the mirror and he sees a small and withered thing, a desiccated body with the edges curled up black; if you leave him out he will break apart in the sun anyway.
But Barrett is so confident on this, he is so earnest about someone who has been fixed on leaving him eventually. It's a truth that curls up in his chest and occupies its space there. It feels like Barrett's warm hands; against his palm, along his neck, and shoulder. It's feel like Barrett wanting to ask him to stay.
Does Barrett feel this strange knot in him too, when Mithrun speaks of the professor? This vague sense of malaise, a cool-coming dread? Is how they feel toward each other on their respective influences linked?
Is this fear? )
... I trusted him too, until the worst happened. ( Until it was too late. ) He was kind to me in school, and when he first began to guide me down that spiral. I didn't know where he was leading me. His story was always clean. He always seemed kind, and in the right.
( He doesn't know if DV is the same. But - he could be. And what if he is?
His free hand catches the front of Barrett's chest - whatever bit of his armor allows for some grip. )
... Don't let DV put you somewhere no one can help you. ( Mentally, physically, whatever. ) There's still... things left for you. And I...
( ...
He pivots the sentence, some. )
... Why are you so sure there's so much left for me?
( Enough to sit with a body to speak to it. Enough to fly all that way. Enough to insist, even now, when it wouldn't have been unfair to give up on someone with a death wish. )
[He stays quiet through the talk of DV. Perhaps it makes sense, that his expression doesn't budge much. It's hard to read his expressions, his thought on the matter, and no way to tell what way DV might swing. Even as he asks for Barrett to keep his autonomy, there's no reaction.
It's when Mithrun turns the reflection back on himself that Barrett's countenance finally warms, like a candle slowly lighting under the burn of a match.]
...I just am.
[Just as confident as he had been about DV. Perhaps moreso. A statement that comes easily, if only for how certain he feels when he thinks of it, even if logic wants to wander.]
You're smart. You're curious. You're stubborn. You're really observant sometimes, even if you don't think you are. And you're so quick when you learn stuff. Even though we haven't known each other too long yet, I still see you trying and doing things you were worried you couldn't do when we first met.
I see how you keep going now. And I think you're strong. Way stronger than me, sometimes.
[Like watching the roar of flames against the immovability of the earth. A force that's different and passionate and unknowable, smouldering and smoking and waiting when it's lost its fuel, but never truly gone. Perhaps the earth cherishes the scars the flames leaves behind, if it means it can grow richer from its time.
Parting from skin, his free hand drifts to meet that grip against his chestplate. Not prying him loose, but pressing him in, keeping him there with a gentle, loose splay of rougher fingers overtop. He's still here. He's not leaving. Cling if he needs.
It feels like a silent request to stay.]
...I thought that from the moment I met you. That you deserved to live. It hasn't changed.
( His fingers at Barrett's chest curl in tighter, a heat bubbling in his chest, flames licking up his throat. This is dangerous - this is distraction. Gone wayside from ensuring himself eaten, he might - begin to forget himself so empty. He'd felt this way, a little bit, in the hospital; he'd felt this some in the hot springs, and the beginning of it in Barrett's half-used bedroom in the guild. A threat that he might feel steady, that he might feel anchored.
It's a terrible thing. To accept Barrett means to accept the big and broad world as something to live in, not give up on. Barrett wouldn't want him to find meaning in one person alone. And that's - a big ask. It was so easy when anger filled him; it was a fire violence could eject, but - this?
And still, and yet, like a rumbling earthquake it moves him, and leaves a heavy thumping in his chest. )
... It's...
( His gaze falls from Brett's earnest face, and he wonders if only Barrett can see these things, from his angle, the way only Mithrun can see how Barrett looks now. Barrett didn't understand when Mithrun said he liked how he looked when he smiled - had he ever seen himself like this? Did he know the depth of the trouble he's caused, wanting Mithrun to stay? )
... It's easier to try when you're here. I don't know why. ( Try, even with the conviction that he can never be full. ) Living is... carrying this empty. Walking with risk of loss. That's hard. But...
( And maybe that's what scares him most. That he has to feel the way he's felt these past two years - forever? That's a lot. It's hard to gaze out into the world and feel like you're not a part of it. )
... But if... if I tried... would you walk with me?
( Even if Barrett can't promise forever. Even though Mithrun knows he's a burden, that he still needs help, and maybe he always will need some. That's a lot - that's a lot to ask of someone else. )
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( He sees that worry, that sympathy. Hm. The fury in Barrett's expression feels less concerning in comparison. )
Does he have an explanation as to why he released the armor and mirrors?
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I got mad at first. With my armor set. But he said it was just created from memories. I think he does want to help us if we choose to stay, but there must be only so much he has access to.
[As far as what happened to them...
He gives the space some silence, gripping his weapon. Two more blows to a dummy. Both as medicore and shallow as the first. (7,6) It just makes him more frustrated, whipping the blade out from the dummy with a harsh exhale, then another.]
I think... what happened to you, and to me... I think it was a threat.
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A clean thrust (17). It runs the dummy through. )
... Toward DV?
( He doesn't pull the blade back. He only drives it further in, the wood splintering, the fabric straining.
He doesn't know what's under his skin right now. He's not indignant he was used as some pawn for some squabble - he got up just fine. Not like Barrett. Barrett was the one who had it bad. )
What makes you believe him?
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[He tries a different dummy, a little less form behind his anger. The lance goes cleanly through the chest and shoulder (15) - if the dunny weren't grounded, Barrett would be hoisting it off the ground.]
CCCorp knew about my arrangements with the university. My scholarship. I couldn't have played otherwise..
If someone figured out I was talking to DV, maybe they wanted to scare me off. Or distract me. But it wasn't a break of my agreement, so they just... made sure I was busy.
[Triple Wield goes off, draining his SP as he makes three pointedly rough thrusts of his weapon. More force than aim. (3,8,9)
His voice clips.]
Maybe they tried to do the same to you.
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It's irritating - having even this outlet denied to him, for even a moment.
He will repeat, then: )
And what makes you believe him? That CC Corp did these things, that DV's motives are good?
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[A simple response, with conviction.
His blade is removed, and he doesn't go for another strike, trying to let out another breath. Let the anger roll off. He normally didn't let things like this get to him so deeply. Why now?
...]
DV doesn't know what happened with your glitch, or mine. He didn't even know why I was gone until I came back. What I think about the threats... it's just my thoughts. Not DV's.
I don't have any proof about CCCorp. Just like my leg. And I can't say that everything DV says is something I understand, or something that I can prove. Like... how not everything that's deleted here stays deleted.
But I still believe him. He doesn't want Fragment to be turned into something like a weapon. And he doesn't want to see anyone else suffer.
I don't want that, either.
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Mithrun kicks at the dummy suddenly, hard enough to break the dummy inward around its wound (11). He keeps his heel dug into its stomach as he twists his blade out, leaving a mauled mess in its wake - though it cleans itself up well enough. )
... What do you mean, "what's deleted doesn't stay deleted"?
( He isn't answering the rest, which may bode good or ill. It doesn't matter to him, though, to comment on Barrett's faith just yet, because he proceeds: )
Have you met him physically? The administrators seem to have oversight in our inboxes.
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I don't know. He mentions it sometimes, that there are things CCCorp tries to remove from Fragment that won't completely go away. Like sweeping things under a rug. I don't always understand it. But... something out there really hurt him. Something that CCCorp knows about, but refuses to handle, just like deleting things.
[At the second question his mouth opens, as though to answer... but he stops, a physical halting with a look of frustration towards the ground.
Another attempt, and nothing happens, like he can't bring himself to answer.
Mm.
With a tense range of motion, he steels back and chucks his lance. It clips a dummy on the shoulder (5) and buries into the ground behind it. There's a curse under his breath.]
...He has to be more careful than that. But he's aware about the inboxes now. He knows the admins don't like him.
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He does not, however, swing again instantly. He had noticed Barrett's apparent - hesitation? and it rings familiar. )
... If ( if ) you can't use the inbox and you can't meet him in person, then how do you talk to him?
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He doesn't answer. The frustration on his expression grows, but the silence stretches, as though he's suddenly either grown too stubborn or too reluctant to talk.
Instead, he goes to retrieve his weapon from the ground.]
...Sorry.
[It's quiet. And he looks unhappy, having to say as much.]
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Are you hiding something from me?
( during your mask off apology video of all times?????? )
Or is it something that you can't say?
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Only a look of frustrated confusion that ripples from his eyes.]
I-- don't want to hide anything from you.
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He clicks his tongue. It really would've been better if Barrett had spoken to him in reality, without this - apparently - bullshit filter.
He puts his hands out for his sword. )
... Tell DV to talk to me. I'll swear an oath of loyalty, or whatever he wants.
( He doesn't trust DV or CC Corp, but DV is willing to talk, and the admins aren't. Starting down any path, even a wrong one, is better than no path at all. )
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...Mn. I want you to be able to talk to him, too.
I don't know if he'll say yes right now. He's... [He looks off to the side, trying to gather his words.] --I think he doesn't trust people easily. Or doesn't know how. But he's smart. So...
Only do it if you mean it, Morgan. I don't want DV to go back into hiding. And...
[An arm is extended so that Beel can rest a hand against Morgan's arm - brief, easy enough to push away from, only to draw attention and try to meet that fierce gaze with one of compassion behind stony features.]
...You staying safe... it means a lot more to me right now.
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Then he feels Barrett's touch at his arm again, and his attention drifts up to meet the certainty of Barrett's gaze. It feels a little like when Barrett had held his hand at sea.
A beat, and he shifts the weight to one hand, so the hand opposite of the shoulder Barrett has a hand on can lay over Barrett's own. His gaze rests on their hands instead. )
... I don't know if I trust him with you. ( The wording here is particular - like it's DV who has Barrett in his care, and not Barrett who's worrying after him. ) His story sounds too clean.
( And Barrett is someone with a lot of empathy who, clearly, is very taken with such a clear-cut tale. Mithrun doesn't know if the whole story is actually suspicious or not!! He can't read into these things!! But he doesn't like the chance that Barrett is being taken advantage of - never mind their situation. For all Mithrun knows, both sides are using the beta testers for some sort of gain. )
I'm not leaving you to handle this on your own. Give me the chance to be with you.
( Even if the choice is ultimately up to DV whether to trust Mithrun and all his aggro or not. Mithrun clearly intends to be well-behaved to get in on this so Barrett isn't soloing this (sure, maybe DV is talking to other people, but Mithrun doesn't know who and therefore isn't gonna trust Barrett with them either) - he can't promise he will be well-behaved. but god he will try. and that will get him a little cheap gold star for the attempt, maybe, hopefully, )
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I won't be on my own.
[There's conviction behind the words, looking down at Mithrun and remembering their talks while together in the hospital bed, remembering Morgan saying he was enough. Remembering Morgan saying that he trusted him. It tugs a bit, hurts a bit, that Morgan won't leave this for him to handle. But three seconds of thought, even for him, lead to the assumption that Morgan doesn't mean it from a bad point of view.
Morgan trusts him, doesn't he? Morgan thinks he's enough... even if he doesn't think the same. And he wonders if Morgan's words, in this moment, echo the same sort of fear he'd felt at the start of their talk.
Don't go somewhere someone else can't follow. Let me help you stay alive.
He lets his touch slip upwards to cup Morgan's face. To keep their gazes together. To quietly plead to look at him, believe him, see his honesty. Even if he knows his actions so far, at least with DV, might just show a young man that doesn't care enough to share what matters.
He knows what matters. Under his gaze, under his touch, that thing that always makes his chest feel full to bursting.]
I promised you. I can't protect anyone if I can't keep myself safe, either.
But I trust him. And I trust you. So... [His fingers curl lightly against Morgan's jawline.] No matter what he says... can you keep trusting me?
Whether we're together or apart, I still want to be enough for everyone. I know I have a chance, now. I know it. [He can. He has to be. He has all the tools he should need here... Even if it feels like he's struggling to keep his head above the water.
A beat, as his expression softens more, as though he's trying to let a wall not come up quite so fast.]
I really hope you can be with me to see me try.
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But he doesn't miss the earnest sentiment in Barrett's gaze, the way it pleads for his trust and patience.
It's frustrating. But this frustration comes from some feeling he can't place, doesn't know the name of. )
... You don't have anything to prove, except to yourself. ( The last and most important person to convince, in the end. ) But this matters to you. So I'll trust you.
( He hates how this is up to DV now. His frustration is apparent, but at least he knows better than to lash out at Barrett.
If anything, he can hold tight to the reassurance that Barrett means to stay safe and alive. That's all anyone can promise right now - a declaration of intent.
He turns his cheek very slightly into Barrett's palm, his voice a little softer, almost a mutter, even though he's not admitting anything he hasn't said before - it expresses the tenderness of feeling, the raw and exposed heart beneath the bony plate, more than anything. )
... I'd rather be there. I'd rather be with you than not.
( Even if the frustration makes him feel like he could body Hien and DV at once ((reasons DV doesn't want to see him)). )
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His free hand finds rest against the hilt of Morgan's sword as he takes a step closer and leans in. Just enough to rest his temple against Morgan's hair, his touch lingering as the hand at his jaw traces down his neck. Not quite a hug, not quite a meeting of lips, but the desire to be close beyond a touch. It's a sensation that's familiar, if not a different taste in how it warms him.
Would you hold my hand until I fall asleep?]
I think... I feel the same.
You're here in front of me... I don't want to take it for granted.
[A slow exhale, rustling strands of hair, the heat just barely coasting Morgan's ear.]
I'm sorry I can't give you more. It makes me sad to see you upset like this.
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Barrett's weight feels real against him, little as he really leans onto Mithrun. It's warm, warm as it was in the hospital - and if he lets his eyes close, for a moment he can think they're still there, before all this happened. He's conscious of how that warmth traces along his jaw, his neck. )
... You're frustrated, too. ( His eyes flutters open in reflex when he feels Barrett's warm breath so faintly brush his sensitive ear, but he doesn't shift his head, or push away. ) ... I can't fix it.
( He sinks the tip of the sword into the dirt again, and he finds Barrett's hand at its hilt, and he tangles their fingers together, hilt between their palms, as if locking them there. )
... And you can't stay here.
( If Barrett's called away to some errand for DV - or, even simply, is affected by some condition, some effect, caused by the game... Mithrun has always been at peace, picturing himself the first to go - but if Barrett leaves first? If Barrett finds himself injured worse, even here, in this digital place? )
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Yeah. I can't.
[The fingers laced with Morgan's squeeze tight nonetheless. For now, he's not going anywhere.]
I feel the same way, sometimes. When I remember what it is you want most. That... I can't ask you to stay. It makes me feel helpless.
But it's not my job to fight that fight for you. Or to change your mind. I just... [Another exhale, as he presses his lips into Morgan's hair.] All I can do is tell you how I feel. My frustration isn't your fight, either.
[It's where trust had to come into play, especially in these moments where both had factors outside themselves driving them away from one another into an unknown. Something they couldn't talk about, something they couldn't share.
There's a pause, letting himself withdraw just enough to try and look down towards Morgan. Still close, still nothing else in his vision or senses but the man in front of him, eyes searching. ]
...Do you remember anything from when you were unconscious on the bridge? I told you something, then. When I thought you'd might have been gone for good.
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He doesn't answer Barrett's dialogue on his revenge - but he hears it, and he'd not thought how it might feel the same, when viewed from the other side of the fence. When faced with loss - strangely, given he'd felt like he'd had nothing left to lose - he understands so marginally what it means to inflict it on another.
Turning his gaze up to meet Barrett's, eyebrows so slightly knit, the sight of Barrett a full eclipse, it's - easy, easier, to say he likes being with him. Maybe it would even be easy to find the words to say he'd like to find him after Fragment - stringing together thoughts and ideas blithely and carelessly like a child babbling, learning to talk.
It's just, the scary part is the follow-up: and then I'll quit my revenge; and then I'll try to live. It seizes his stomach with an icy dread, and leaves him with a cold anger to big to stay in his body. He doesn't know what to do.
He shakes his head, after he thinks back for a time to his deep sleep. He can't recall Barrett's voice; vaguely, his features color with curiosity. )
... No. I don't remember anything. What did you say?
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[He's said a lot. Some of it he knows is just repeat of ideals he's shared with Morgan before - echoes of what he wishes Morgan could have done and been.]
Hien let me stay with you alone for a little while. And I thought of the things you could have done and learned if you had more time. You could have grown old, and proven so many people wrong. [One person in particular.] I told you that. I told you I wished I could have been able to see it.
Wherever you had gone, I just hoped you'd find a way to feel a little more whole again. That whatever was out there would let you have that much.
[A last spiteful victory, perhaps. A kindness that life wasn't bringing him.
Barrett's eyes falter, drifting down. Voice quiet as the fingers against Morgan's neck curl and drift down his shoulder.]
...I didn't want him to win over you. I still don't.
[His mouth thins, a flicker of frustration on his own. But it's a context that feels like a mirror.]
I know you don't want DV to take me. And he won't. I don't think it's like that. But... I don't want that man to take you, either.
Does it scare you? Hearing me talk about him?
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But Barrett is so confident on this, he is so earnest about someone who has been fixed on leaving him eventually. It's a truth that curls up in his chest and occupies its space there. It feels like Barrett's warm hands; against his palm, along his neck, and shoulder. It's feel like Barrett wanting to ask him to stay.
Does Barrett feel this strange knot in him too, when Mithrun speaks of the professor? This vague sense of malaise, a cool-coming dread? Is how they feel toward each other on their respective influences linked?
Is this fear? )
... I trusted him too, until the worst happened. ( Until it was too late. ) He was kind to me in school, and when he first began to guide me down that spiral. I didn't know where he was leading me. His story was always clean. He always seemed kind, and in the right.
( He doesn't know if DV is the same. But - he could be. And what if he is?
His free hand catches the front of Barrett's chest - whatever bit of his armor allows for some grip. )
... Don't let DV put you somewhere no one can help you. ( Mentally, physically, whatever. ) There's still... things left for you. And I...
( ...
He pivots the sentence, some. )
... Why are you so sure there's so much left for me?
( Enough to sit with a body to speak to it. Enough to fly all that way. Enough to insist, even now, when it wouldn't have been unfair to give up on someone with a death wish. )
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It's when Mithrun turns the reflection back on himself that Barrett's countenance finally warms, like a candle slowly lighting under the burn of a match.]
...I just am.
[Just as confident as he had been about DV. Perhaps moreso. A statement that comes easily, if only for how certain he feels when he thinks of it, even if logic wants to wander.]
You're smart. You're curious. You're stubborn. You're really observant sometimes, even if you don't think you are. And you're so quick when you learn stuff. Even though we haven't known each other too long yet, I still see you trying and doing things you were worried you couldn't do when we first met.
I see how you keep going now. And I think you're strong. Way stronger than me, sometimes.
[Like watching the roar of flames against the immovability of the earth. A force that's different and passionate and unknowable, smouldering and smoking and waiting when it's lost its fuel, but never truly gone. Perhaps the earth cherishes the scars the flames leaves behind, if it means it can grow richer from its time.
Parting from skin, his free hand drifts to meet that grip against his chestplate. Not prying him loose, but pressing him in, keeping him there with a gentle, loose splay of rougher fingers overtop. He's still here. He's not leaving. Cling if he needs.
It feels like a silent request to stay.]
...I thought that from the moment I met you. That you deserved to live. It hasn't changed.
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It's a terrible thing. To accept Barrett means to accept the big and broad world as something to live in, not give up on. Barrett wouldn't want him to find meaning in one person alone. And that's - a big ask. It was so easy when anger filled him; it was a fire violence could eject, but - this?
And still, and yet, like a rumbling earthquake it moves him, and leaves a heavy thumping in his chest. )
... It's...
( His gaze falls from Brett's earnest face, and he wonders if only Barrett can see these things, from his angle, the way only Mithrun can see how Barrett looks now. Barrett didn't understand when Mithrun said he liked how he looked when he smiled - had he ever seen himself like this? Did he know the depth of the trouble he's caused, wanting Mithrun to stay? )
... It's easier to try when you're here. I don't know why. ( Try, even with the conviction that he can never be full. ) Living is... carrying this empty. Walking with risk of loss. That's hard. But...
( And maybe that's what scares him most. That he has to feel the way he's felt these past two years - forever? That's a lot. It's hard to gaze out into the world and feel like you're not a part of it. )
... But if... if I tried... would you walk with me?
( Even if Barrett can't promise forever. Even though Mithrun knows he's a burden, that he still needs help, and maybe he always will need some. That's a lot - that's a lot to ask of someone else. )
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