[It's a weight that's been with him for too long, an open wound that he's covered with pointless egotism and anger. A festering sore that has been tended to as much as it's been acknowledged. He's tried to move past it, tried to act like it isn't there, but it's behind everything he does. It's at his core, and the longer he ignores it, the longer it unwittingly corrupts him.
At first it's like he's not even aware she's there, lost to his anger and disappointment. But when her hands touch his, there's a noticeable twitch in his fingers, his wide eyes are staring at nothing, yet seem so fixed on something. It's not usual for such a break to happen when it's not concerning a Pokèmon battle, but the amount of emotions that have been surging through him the past week? It was well overdue. The air around them feels dry, hollow even, and it combats the warmth Jill is giving off.
Her hands succeed in getting him to let go, his breath is quick and shallow, and he's sweating. There's not much resistance once his hands let go of his hair, and she's easily able to jerk them away from himself. Perhaps it's just the time that's passed, mere seconds that have felt like individual eternities, or her combined touch and the jerk of his arms that snaps him back. Either way, his eyes focus, and he looks to her with both an expression of bafflement and loss. Her words sound far off, muffled, like she's speaking through a wall, even though he sees her. She's right there, she's touching him, but there's a ringing in his mind as his emotions come down and... crash.
Without thinking, he's following her instructions. Breathing in through his nose. Breathing out through his mouth. Once he feels properly grounded, that ringing far gone, and the world feels more real than some distant thought or memory, he realizes what he's done—what she's seen. His head hurts.]
Fuck.
[It's all he says. He's tried so hard to keep that in check, keep those kinds of reactions under control. He's an idiot for not realizing that it wasn't himself that kept that at bay, but rather the comfort Jill offered him. The moment she wasn't that source of comfort, he lost the control he thought he had. He should have made that connection sooner, honestly, seeing as he fell into those cycles the moment he wasn't around her, but Guzma has never been one to think as critically as he ought to.]
Jill—shit.
[What does he even say, how does he even explain that?]
[ She knows this sort of thing intimately. The invisible weight of burden and loss and misery that sometimes is heavier and other times is light and weakened enough that you almost can forget about it. The breaks never fully cease, though, because they're there. Always. It cloaks you like chains locked around you, twisted and encircled in a way you might not be able to move. Not forward and most certainly never back. You never can go back from where you were now and that's one of the hardest things to accept.
At first she thinks he might be ignoring her or having a full-on panic attack and if his breath didn't start to steady she would've guided him to sit and put his head between his legs. She's been inconsolable herself in the past, shaking with anger and ready to draw blood with a ferocity that is rarely clear yet is nearly always present inside of her. It still burns inside of her, turning everything to ash. She wants nothing more than to dispel it, but she's come to accept it and now uses it to her advantage -- tries to, anyway. It's passion now, not pain.
Her head shakes, though she doesn't speak just yet. It's just a small gesture to indicate that if he thinks something is broken or impossible to repair, that it isn't the case. That she's still here, that she's not kicked him through the wall, that everything is just as normal as it was before. Just more... aware. ]
It's alright. We've both been through some shit, haven't we? And I can't blame you for going for one last try. [ She smiles weakly like she might chuckle, but instead she just keeps her eyes on him like she means to ground him with a stare. ] Just try to take it easy.
[ Finally, she lets go of him now that he seems aware and more grounded. But she lifts a hand and gives his arm a punch. It's so light and weak that it's clearly a patented Jill tease and not meant to be taken seriously. ]
You and me, we're fine. Is there anything I can do for you, though? I'm gonna ditch and go take a breather -- not your kind of a breather -- if not. Otherwise I'll hang out with you?
With his prisine track record, that's sound advice
[It's like a choker chain that's been pulled taut around his neck for so long he's forgotten how it feels to be without it. It's part of him, that pressure always applied to his air supply, limiting just how much he can breathe. But once he's reminded that it's there, and how tight it is, it's like years worth of suffocation catches up to him in a single moment. It's crushing, all consuming, and honestly fucking terrifying.
He nods, wetting his far too dry lips as he tries to piece his mind back together. It's a strange comfort how she brushes off his stupid mistake, how she lets it go and seems to forgive it. It makes it easier for him to let it go too, but he doesn't. Not yet, but he will. It's always been hard for him to forgive himself his flaws and missteps. A learned trait.
That light punch is honestly the best comfort in this whole thing. It's the most normal out of this chaotic mess, and he can't even describe how much the gesture means to him.]
I think—[he starts, his voice is rough, in part because of how dry his throat is after that, but also because of how worn he feels]—you've done enough for me.
[It's completely true, he couldn't think of a single thing he would or could ask of her at this point. Not after everything, not after that. She deserves a breather, for as long as he wants. For as long as she needs. He wouldn't blame her if she ran away and never came back, but he knows by now that's not her, and she never would do that to him. To anyone she cares about...]
[ It's not something she can relate to. Reminders, sometimes, of the loss that she's dealt with can creep up. The anger over Wesker's betrayal is rarer now, but sometimes the thought will return. She'll remember those two years fondly along with the respect she had for her superior. Then she'll lose parts of those that have passed on. Richard's haircut, Forest's laugh, Enrique's steadfastness. Forest, though. All those years they'd known each other, her friendship with him having lead to him introducing her to Chris before STARS. Then a third wheel, which he didn't seem to mind. But sometimes she forgets what model grenade launcher he used or the color of his eyes -- but she can remember him slumped in that chair in the mansion.
She can remember killing him again.
But it's not like that always. There are good things, both at home (now) and here in Verens. It doesn't usually get near suffocation anymore. She takes too much care to remind herself of what she has and how fortunate she is. She lets a hand come to her hip and her eyebrows rise. ]
Yeah? Well, don't think of it as me doing something for you. That implies you owe me something and you don't.
[ It's emotionally exhausting, but she's always been the one to take care of everyone. More in battle since she was selective with her small friend circle, but in the end she would protect the people she cares for emotionally and physically above all else. It wasn't a chore. ]
Go raid the fridge and grab a bite to eat. Let yourself relax and come down from that -- but don't think I'll let you get out of this so easily. You and me, we're due for another talk. But let's take it easy, yeah?
[Most the time he can ignore it, most the time he can bulldoze through with his anger, and make himself forget. But those times that he can't, those are doozies. By the root of it, his trauma and broken past was entirely self aimed, and perhaps had he shared such with another person, if he had someone other than himself to protect in his younger years, he might not have grown to be as self-centered. But he was alone in that regard, surrounded by people who didn't quite understand him in the way he thought they ought to. It made closing off far too easy, and made self-preservation paramount, even if what he thought was best for him wasn't actually.
It was too late in life that he found others like him, that he found that solidarity and community. And while that certainly helped him foster bonds he otherwise didn't have, it was well past the point that his selfish survivalist instinct was conditioned within him. An otherwise permanent part of him that he's been trying to adjust, since he knows he'll never change. Not entirely. He is who he is, but he doesn't have to be his worst self.]
I didn't mean it like that.
[It's not about owing anyone anything, it's about caring, and nurturing and... she's done enough as it is. She needs her time, she needs to be able to step away from the mess that he is and not have to worry that he's going to burst into flames of his own making.
At her suggestion, he nods. They both need to come down after that, and who knows how well he's been eating this past week. He certainly doesn't.]
Yeah—you deserve that much. I owe you an explanation, I get that.
[He lets out a slow, albeit shaky, breath. This has been one hell of a ride, and he's just left tired and exhausted. It's too early for him to know if this has done them any good, or if his worries that are stirring into the back of his head are more aligned with the actual reality. It takes him a second, but he turns on his heel, his back to her.]
I'll catch ya later, then.
[He's trying to keep this calm and casual. It's more for himself than anything, but he needs to at least pretend he's not walking away from a burning building of a situation.]
[ Experience and circumstance will shape you. It's what creates your arsenal of tools to cope and to shield yourself. She doesn't blame him and really only wants the best for him, though it's hard to not let her questions overpower her concern. Jill can't fully understand it from his point of view -- or even partially -- until she knows more. She'd been alone most of her life, but she'd had wonderful parents and while her circle of family and friends now was tiny, they were still anchors. ]
I know you didn't. It was worth saying still.
[ He has it wrong, though. She's just emotionally charged right now, a ball of electricity with nowhere to strike. Not angry, but part of her is hurt and the rest of her has no idea what she's doing or where she's going. It would be a lie to suggest that some of his suggestions about romance or her feelings about Chris didn't get to her. The past four years left a lot up in the air and all this proves is she definitely wasn't ready to be with someone in that respect, even if it felt just right. ]
Take your time. We've all got our shit and our brains aren't always equipped to deal with that shit in the way we want it to.
[ More experience. Jill could be downright vicious at times and hopefully no one would ever have to see that side of her when she snaps. Her shoulders rise and fall into something like a sigh and a shrug all at once, though without any negativity to it. Playful, almost. ]
Just so long as you stick around. Give yourself space, but don't be a stranger. This doesn't change anything about our friendship on my end. We're still thick as thieves and if you think you can ditch me, like I said. I'll hunt you down... but, ah. I'll try not to break your nose or anything on accident if that's the case.
[ Now, at least, she chuckles. She clearly feels bad about that still, but if she can't make a joke about it then neither of them will be able to dig themselves out of this shitty hole. ]
[Had Guzma had that in his life, he would have been someone else entirely. Maybe he would have been successful, maybe he would have realized the dreams that got tossed to the wayside because of his damage and that he ran out of time. Maybe he could have become a captain, a Kahuna, something important. Not the dark spot on Alola's history he is now.]
Mm.
[It's just a simple sound of acknowledgement, because there's not much else to say to that, really. He nods to the next, he knows all too well how ill-equipped his brain is for most situations. Hell, if his brain worked half as good as most people's, maybe he'd avoid a lot of bullshit. Alas!]
I won't go no where. I belong here, and besides... Don't got no where to go—'cept Nanu's I guess. But I'm sure he's sick of seein' me.
[Which almost implies that he's been there longer than he actually has, but he knows that while Nanu and him have an understanding, and a budding mentorship, Guzma's a fucking handful. He has no intention of overrunning Nanu's life, not entirely, anyway.]
If I were you, I'd've broken my nose, but too late! Missed your chance!
[He says this after his back is turned, not looking at her. But his body language and tone carriers that jovial air, and he shrugs with both arms out at his sides, palms upward. The joking helps, it does, but it doesn't change that feeling of dread that's slowly gnawing at him. A good distraction all the same.]
[ Maybe it didn't matter at all because he still has a future to go back to and he has one here, too. It might not be the same as he wanted, but life has a way of throwing some messy curveballs at you. Jill knows this plenty, herself, and she still managed to be happy in her own way. Might take time, but she thinks that he'll manage. She hadn't felt like she was comfortable until after she'd hit thirty and she'd been his age when shit hit the fan. ]
Heh, well, I guess you just gave away your secret hideout, you sucker. [ But it's fond, fonder than anything she's let seep out more recently even if she is trying to be cautious since the last time she did that it ended up... well, at least Guzma's nose doesn't seem to be shattered beyond recognition. Points for her, she guesses. ] Oh, Guzma. There's always time for me to change my mind. Good thing I like you and your nose intact -- just don't challenge me on it. I'm pretty competitive, you know.
[ Nose-breaking contest? This is some friendly banter. Rather than let him take the leave, she lightly (really, really lightly after that fiasco) elbows his arm and swerves past him to take leave first. ]
Don't sweat it. Really. Easier said than done, but cut yourself some slack. Took a lot of guts, more to be honest with yourself. [ She keeps walking, vaguely gesturing as she's wont to do when she talks. Her tone is serious, but light and genuine. Fond. ] So don't play normal and fine. You're allowed to be vulnerable. You should know by now I'm not going to use that to fire back at you, yeah?
[ She leaves it at that, heading through the kitchen and presumably out of the house. ]
[Thirty seems an eternity away, at this point. He's young, he's got a life before him, but it certainly feels at times that he doesn't. He's aimless, and without purpose. But, one can suppose that's better than the purpose he gave himself before.]
It ain't that secret. [At least, not in his mind. But sometimes he forgets if he mentions vital information to people, like... Nanu being his mentor. Maybe he told Jill that, maybe he didn't. He can't honestly remember. At least he's able to let out a laugh at her next bit, and it's not completely fake or put upon.]
It'd be a little unequal, don't you think? My nose is way bigger than yours, yo.
[But, as soon as he says that, as if on cue: he does feel something wet running down onto his upper lip, and bringing a hand to the spot—ah. That's blood. He doesn't react to it, beyond keeping his hand there, so that when Jill passes him (not quite reacting to her elbowing either) she might not see it. There was likely a delay in the blood flowing down, since his nose was already pretty inflamed from a prior hit to it.
Oh well.]
Yeah I—Yeah...
[It's all he says, letting her leave. He doesn't move from that spot right away, giving her time to possibly be out of the house, before he'll make his way to the bathroom to look at the number she—no, he did on his nose. It's... it's certainly bleeding, and quite a bit. But that's fine, he'll just spend the next ten minutes or so holding goddamn toilet paper to his face, putting the toilet seat lid down so he can sit on it. He doesn't need to get blood everywhere, so this is where he'll be till his stupid nose stops bleeding like a stuck tepig.
This is what he deserves after all that, anyways.]
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golisolation) wrote2010-07-17 11:01 am
Oh yes I see that, I was a fool to have doubted him
At first it's like he's not even aware she's there, lost to his anger and disappointment. But when her hands touch his, there's a noticeable twitch in his fingers, his wide eyes are staring at nothing, yet seem so fixed on something. It's not usual for such a break to happen when it's not concerning a Pokèmon battle, but the amount of emotions that have been surging through him the past week? It was well overdue. The air around them feels dry, hollow even, and it combats the warmth Jill is giving off.
Her hands succeed in getting him to let go, his breath is quick and shallow, and he's sweating. There's not much resistance once his hands let go of his hair, and she's easily able to jerk them away from himself. Perhaps it's just the time that's passed, mere seconds that have felt like individual eternities, or her combined touch and the jerk of his arms that snaps him back. Either way, his eyes focus, and he looks to her with both an expression of bafflement and loss. Her words sound far off, muffled, like she's speaking through a wall, even though he sees her. She's right there, she's touching him, but there's a ringing in his mind as his emotions come down and... crash.
Without thinking, he's following her instructions. Breathing in through his nose. Breathing out through his mouth. Once he feels properly grounded, that ringing far gone, and the world feels more real than some distant thought or memory, he realizes what he's done—what she's seen. His head hurts.]
Fuck.
[It's all he says. He's tried so hard to keep that in check, keep those kinds of reactions under control. He's an idiot for not realizing that it wasn't himself that kept that at bay, but rather the comfort Jill offered him. The moment she wasn't that source of comfort, he lost the control he thought he had. He should have made that connection sooner, honestly, seeing as he fell into those cycles the moment he wasn't around her, but Guzma has never been one to think as critically as he ought to.]
Jill—shit.
[What does he even say, how does he even explain that?]
never doubt ya boi
At first she thinks he might be ignoring her or having a full-on panic attack and if his breath didn't start to steady she would've guided him to sit and put his head between his legs. She's been inconsolable herself in the past, shaking with anger and ready to draw blood with a ferocity that is rarely clear yet is nearly always present inside of her. It still burns inside of her, turning everything to ash. She wants nothing more than to dispel it, but she's come to accept it and now uses it to her advantage -- tries to, anyway. It's passion now, not pain.
Her head shakes, though she doesn't speak just yet. It's just a small gesture to indicate that if he thinks something is broken or impossible to repair, that it isn't the case. That she's still here, that she's not kicked him through the wall, that everything is just as normal as it was before. Just more... aware. ]
It's alright. We've both been through some shit, haven't we? And I can't blame you for going for one last try. [ She smiles weakly like she might chuckle, but instead she just keeps her eyes on him like she means to ground him with a stare. ] Just try to take it easy.
[ Finally, she lets go of him now that he seems aware and more grounded. But she lifts a hand and gives his arm a punch. It's so light and weak that it's clearly a patented Jill tease and not meant to be taken seriously. ]
You and me, we're fine. Is there anything I can do for you, though? I'm gonna ditch and go take a breather -- not your kind of a breather -- if not. Otherwise I'll hang out with you?
With his prisine track record, that's sound advice
He nods, wetting his far too dry lips as he tries to piece his mind back together. It's a strange comfort how she brushes off his stupid mistake, how she lets it go and seems to forgive it. It makes it easier for him to let it go too, but he doesn't. Not yet, but he will. It's always been hard for him to forgive himself his flaws and missteps. A learned trait.
That light punch is honestly the best comfort in this whole thing. It's the most normal out of this chaotic mess, and he can't even describe how much the gesture means to him.]
I think—[he starts, his voice is rough, in part because of how dry his throat is after that, but also because of how worn he feels]—you've done enough for me.
[It's completely true, he couldn't think of a single thing he would or could ask of her at this point. Not after everything, not after that. She deserves a breather, for as long as he wants. For as long as she needs. He wouldn't blame her if she ran away and never came back, but he knows by now that's not her, and she never would do that to him. To anyone she cares about...]
10/10 would guz again
She can remember killing him again.
But it's not like that always. There are good things, both at home (now) and here in Verens. It doesn't usually get near suffocation anymore. She takes too much care to remind herself of what she has and how fortunate she is. She lets a hand come to her hip and her eyebrows rise. ]
Yeah? Well, don't think of it as me doing something for you. That implies you owe me something and you don't.
[ It's emotionally exhausting, but she's always been the one to take care of everyone. More in battle since she was selective with her small friend circle, but in the end she would protect the people she cares for emotionally and physically above all else. It wasn't a chore. ]
Go raid the fridge and grab a bite to eat. Let yourself relax and come down from that -- but don't think I'll let you get out of this so easily. You and me, we're due for another talk. But let's take it easy, yeah?
A review from a verified buyer
It was too late in life that he found others like him, that he found that solidarity and community. And while that certainly helped him foster bonds he otherwise didn't have, it was well past the point that his selfish survivalist instinct was conditioned within him. An otherwise permanent part of him that he's been trying to adjust, since he knows he'll never change. Not entirely. He is who he is, but he doesn't have to be his worst self.]
I didn't mean it like that.
[It's not about owing anyone anything, it's about caring, and nurturing and... she's done enough as it is. She needs her time, she needs to be able to step away from the mess that he is and not have to worry that he's going to burst into flames of his own making.
At her suggestion, he nods. They both need to come down after that, and who knows how well he's been eating this past week. He certainly doesn't.]
Yeah—you deserve that much. I owe you an explanation, I get that.
[He lets out a slow, albeit shaky, breath. This has been one hell of a ride, and he's just left tired and exhausted. It's too early for him to know if this has done them any good, or if his worries that are stirring into the back of his head are more aligned with the actual reality. It takes him a second, but he turns on his heel, his back to her.]
I'll catch ya later, then.
[He's trying to keep this calm and casual. It's more for himself than anything, but he needs to at least pretend he's not walking away from a burning building of a situation.]
BEArified
I know you didn't. It was worth saying still.
[ He has it wrong, though. She's just emotionally charged right now, a ball of electricity with nowhere to strike. Not angry, but part of her is hurt and the rest of her has no idea what she's doing or where she's going. It would be a lie to suggest that some of his suggestions about romance or her feelings about Chris didn't get to her. The past four years left a lot up in the air and all this proves is she definitely wasn't ready to be with someone in that respect, even if it felt just right. ]
Take your time. We've all got our shit and our brains aren't always equipped to deal with that shit in the way we want it to.
[ More experience. Jill could be downright vicious at times and hopefully no one would ever have to see that side of her when she snaps. Her shoulders rise and fall into something like a sigh and a shrug all at once, though without any negativity to it. Playful, almost. ]
Just so long as you stick around. Give yourself space, but don't be a stranger. This doesn't change anything about our friendship on my end. We're still thick as thieves and if you think you can ditch me, like I said. I'll hunt you down... but, ah. I'll try not to break your nose or anything on accident if that's the case.
[ Now, at least, she chuckles. She clearly feels bad about that still, but if she can't make a joke about it then neither of them will be able to dig themselves out of this shitty hole. ]
more like BEAnned!!
Mm.
[It's just a simple sound of acknowledgement, because there's not much else to say to that, really. He nods to the next, he knows all too well how ill-equipped his brain is for most situations. Hell, if his brain worked half as good as most people's, maybe he'd avoid a lot of bullshit. Alas!]
I won't go no where. I belong here, and besides... Don't got no where to go—'cept Nanu's I guess. But I'm sure he's sick of seein' me.
[Which almost implies that he's been there longer than he actually has, but he knows that while Nanu and him have an understanding, and a budding mentorship, Guzma's a fucking handful. He has no intention of overrunning Nanu's life, not entirely, anyway.]
If I were you, I'd've broken my nose, but too late! Missed your chance!
[He says this after his back is turned, not looking at her. But his body language and tone carriers that jovial air, and he shrugs with both arms out at his sides, palms upward. The joking helps, it does, but it doesn't change that feeling of dread that's slowly gnawing at him. A good distraction all the same.]
i love beans
Heh, well, I guess you just gave away your secret hideout, you sucker. [ But it's fond, fonder than anything she's let seep out more recently even if she is trying to be cautious since the last time she did that it ended up... well, at least Guzma's nose doesn't seem to be shattered beyond recognition. Points for her, she guesses. ] Oh, Guzma. There's always time for me to change my mind. Good thing I like you and your nose intact -- just don't challenge me on it. I'm pretty competitive, you know.
[ Nose-breaking contest? This is some friendly banter. Rather than let him take the leave, she lightly (really, really lightly after that fiasco) elbows his arm and swerves past him to take leave first. ]
Don't sweat it. Really. Easier said than done, but cut yourself some slack. Took a lot of guts, more to be honest with yourself. [ She keeps walking, vaguely gesturing as she's wont to do when she talks. Her tone is serious, but light and genuine. Fond. ] So don't play normal and fine. You're allowed to be vulnerable. You should know by now I'm not going to use that to fire back at you, yeah?
[ She leaves it at that, heading through the kitchen and presumably out of the house. ]
no wonder ur such a TOOT!
It ain't that secret. [At least, not in his mind. But sometimes he forgets if he mentions vital information to people, like... Nanu being his mentor. Maybe he told Jill that, maybe he didn't. He can't honestly remember. At least he's able to let out a laugh at her next bit, and it's not completely fake or put upon.]
It'd be a little unequal, don't you think? My nose is way bigger than yours, yo.
[But, as soon as he says that, as if on cue: he does feel something wet running down onto his upper lip, and bringing a hand to the spot—ah. That's blood. He doesn't react to it, beyond keeping his hand there, so that when Jill passes him (not quite reacting to her elbowing either) she might not see it. There was likely a delay in the blood flowing down, since his nose was already pretty inflamed from a prior hit to it.
Oh well.]
Yeah I—Yeah...
[It's all he says, letting her leave. He doesn't move from that spot right away, giving her time to possibly be out of the house, before he'll make his way to the bathroom to look at the number she—no, he did on his nose. It's... it's certainly bleeding, and quite a bit. But that's fine, he'll just spend the next ten minutes or so holding goddamn toilet paper to his face, putting the toilet seat lid down so he can sit on it. He doesn't need to get blood everywhere, so this is where he'll be till his stupid nose stops bleeding like a stuck tepig.
This is what he deserves after all that, anyways.]