golisolation | 💀 MoM IC INBOX 💀

[she considers that, adjusting her hold on the basket again when she feels Mightyena snuffling around at the bottom of it. she reaches to give him some well-received scritches while keeping a thoughtful look on Guzma.]

More like whom... A chance to understand you a little better.

[Fortunately as they're talking, the others seem happy with their snacks, of course beyond Mightyena there, but Lucina's got him handled. Guzma's gaze gets a little more serious at her answer. It's so weird to him, because back home no one wanted to understand shit about him, they rather cast him aside and forget about him... but here? It was almost overwhelming how people wanted to understand him, or wanted to tell him they knew him.

It's like getting what you want, but in such an abundance it's too much, so you wall up and run away from it. What with being so used to being denied these things, it's hard to accept them for what they are, and it's for this reason that Guzma almost looks a little uncomfortable.]

What's there to understand better?

[Of course he has no idea that Darin told Lucina what he did about Guzma broadening his perspective on the OTO and where they stood in this mess.]

Your boy's a dude who likes to wreck shit and keep weaklings in line, that's all.

[He shrugs, dismissively looking away from her.]

[she watches him shift and shrug, wearing a pensive look, trying to puzzle him out. he had the opportunity to use this meeting as pretense to do her harm if he wanted -- keep a weakling such as herself in line, so to speak. but instead he's deferred to giving his Pokemon companions this kindness.]

...Where does this fall, then? If there's a line between one or the other.

[Her question catches him, and the way he stares at her a little blankly exemplifies this a little too much for his liking. It doesn't last long, before his expression falls into that familiar scowl of his.]

—Well, I can't wreck shit if my team ain't taken care of, now can I?

[Nice backpedal.]

[hoh! that was too long a beat to miss. her mouth starts to curve a smile before she presses her lips into a line, dipping her head to exchange a look with Mightyena.]

I suppose not. [she glances over at Golisopod and Scizor, then to the rest as they polish off their treats.]

But they all seem to be in fine form as it is, and quite content, if I'm not misreading them.

Yeah, well that don't mean I should just do the bare minimum to maintain that, huh?

[If there's one thing Guzma is, he's utterly dedicated to the care of his Pokémon. He makes sure they have what they need, even more than what they need, often at times at the cost of his own needs. It doesn't matter to him if he goes without, so long as they don't. None of this he'll say, or admit to, however.]

Guess I ain't too sure what you're wanting to hear from me. You wantin' me to just spill that I'm actually a good guy, and that all I need is some Bulushit power of friendship to bring me around?

Tch... I don't get why it's so hard for you and that idiot to just accept that some people are twisted, and that's all they are, and all they will ever be.

If you'd suddenly say something like that, [she gives him a pointed look, eyebrow quirked.] I would find it very suspicious. I'm not telling you what I want to say, Guzma. I'm just wanting to hear what it is you say.

[she feels a little beat of pride she doesn't really deserve, knowing that idiot is definitely Darin.]

But...twisted isn't a beginning state of being for...much of anything, is it? Things start out one way, then twist and form that shape. [even plants. even hearts.]

[There's a notable pause when she finishes, because he realizes he just contradicted the narrative he's been pushing since the start. That he's just this way, and always has been. Born "bad" and learning to embrace it as a fact about himself, and pushing others to accept that same fact. Using "twisted" does imply the opposite. That, at some point, maybe he was good, maybe he wasn't this aggressive dude with too big of a chip on his shoulder...

That verbal fumble ticks him off a bit, and his worsened scowl makes that fact pretty candid. He can't backpedal now without looking more like a fool, and it'd be just as incriminating as rolling with it, at least this way he can protect his ego a little.]

So what?! [that's practically barked out at her] I don't see why it matters—if I was always this way, or if I became it. In the end I am what I am, there's no changing it.

I ain't sorry for nothin' I've done!

[her eyes wince a little at the rise in volume, but other than that, she remains stable, her fingers lifting up from under Mightyena's chin. Golisopod wants scritches, too, so...!

she didn't ask if he was sorry for anything, but he felt the need to say it. what has he done that would be worth being sorry for? hurting Darin like that...does he really find no fault himself for that? it's hard to understand. is he only hiding being "being twisted" as an excuse to act out? is that really satisfying?

twisted and full of knots, she thinks...]

It's not the end yet. And the things that don't change here... [her brow pinches a little.] It just gets harder.

[but people adapt whether they realize they are or not. she certainly has.]

[Yes indeed does Golisopod want some attention, he's finished his snack, and now he wants to feast on attention. However, even with that being the case, it doesn't mean the Pokémon isn't paying attention to the situation. Same goes for the others, but particularly Scizor who seems to be watching Guzma more than Lucina as the conversation unfolds.

The unease in Guzma certainly calls for attention, and Scizor knows what happened last time Guzma was talking with someone he didn't like too much. The fight that broke out, that his trainer ultimately paid for with his pride.]

Yeah? That's life.

[He gestures a bit broadly with his arms as he talks, dismissive and snotty.]

Don't matter what you do, there's always a struggle, always a fight. Difficulty is the only certainty we got, and that's why the strong are the ones who'll survive it.

People like you want to pretend there's this code of conduct to being strong, when that's all arbitrary silly garbage thought up by people too scared to deal with what they don't—no, what they choose to not understand. I know it ain't the end yet, but like I said: I ain't ever gonna change, so the end don't need to be here for me to know how it'll go down, yo!

[despite Golisopod's happy titters, Lucina wears a faint frown as she listens to him growl his point.

people like her is...maybe something not so directly her, she considers. she hopes, despite the odds, that it's so; he knows so little of her, after all. it might sting her pride to be spoken poorly of, but she can't take every barb directly to her heart; she'd have never made it a month through Aegis if she had!

it hurts to hear such an adamant claim like that. to the end. to what end?

while her eyes linger downward in thought:] ...As you say.

[gods, but she wants to argue for herself. to what end, though? he'd hardly care.]

[To his end, he means. Dark and dismal as it may be, it's not like Guzma isn't aware of how he courts destruction with his recklessness. With his abrasive nature, how he jumps to a fight like its an involuntary reaction. For as self-centered and egotistical he is, there's an alarming lack of self-preservation in how he acts and cares for himself. That is to say, he doesn't care for himself at all.

Self-hatred is one hell of a drug.

Yet, even as Lucina backs down, which one might assume is what Guzma wanted, it seems to piss him off. Maybe it's because this started to become a confrontation, and now she's denying him the satisfaction of one, or maybe he's just needing to blow some steam. Whatever it is, he doesn't seem to want to let this go.]

That's it? Really? That's all you got to say, huh?

[His face twists into an ugly mix of frustration and disgust.]

For someone fronting that they wanna understand, you sure don't put in the legwork for it, huh?

Letting you say your piece... [she pauses, needing the beat to keep her voice level as she looks back and sees such unpleasantness glared her way.] It is part of it. You say someone like me...whatever that means to you, chooses to look past the things they don't understand. Part of understanding is listening. I'm choosing to listen, not...step over and correct whatever I hear that sounds wrong to me. Not right now.

[but the way her face has gotten a bit pinker, it shows there's effort in restraint. she's not a naturally cool cucumber, this is an intentional effort.]

Oh.

[He looks a little taken aback by her answer. He's so used to either being met head on with opposition, or people running away, that when he's met with something between the two—someone actually willing to listen to him, he's uncertain on how to parse it. Mainly because of how he categorizes Lucina. See, Archie is someone who listens, and he feels free to talk to. He's an ally. Lucina isn't, so the fact she's acting this way, letting him say his piece?

It's weird, and he feels apprehensive about it. He slips his hands back into his pockets, looking at her a bit more fully than the side-long stare he was giving her just before, shifting a bit.]

Uh...

[Eloquent.

Funny how you seem to have too much to say when no one wants to listen, but then when given the chance, the words seem to have vanished. Scizor looks between the two, trying to read the situation, but he's left a little puzzled. It's okay buddy, Guzma is too.

This is not where he thought this would go.]

Yeah—well!

[He huffs, trying to gain traction again after being derailed]

Fine, you wanna understand me? You wanna know why Big Bad Guzma is the way he is? Then lets do this, I ain't got nothing to lose.

[Of course he has no plan to tell her more than what's needed, but if she wants to act like she's willing to take the time to understand him, then he's going to put the proof to the test. See just how much she's actually full of shit.]

Go on, then. I'll let you ask your questions, I'm sure you got 'em.

[Right now he's banking on her bluffing. That she doesn't actually have any desire to understand him, so she won't actually have anything to ask him, and thus he won't have anything to answer.]

[Lucina's eyebrows raise.

honestly, she's surprised he didn't shut this all down. say something obnoxiously empty but just insulting enough to tip her patience. it's surprising to see him puff up, bristle...and then deflate, scowling all the same, but...actually humoring her?

her heart thumps. did...is she doing the right thing? diplomacy has always been the weakest of her skills, but gods, she's been trying. it's easier to see the fruits of one's efforts when it's things like lifting weights or swinging swords, but this?

she had better make good use of this chance; she knows it may not come again so easily. or ever.]

Then... [she's still stuck on him accusing her of choosing to ignore things.] Then what are the things...those people. People like me, you say, choose to overlook or not understand?

Edited 2019-09-03 01:33 (UTC)

[Guzma would blame that the Pokémon influenced him by being so damn happy around her, that maybe under different circumstances he'd shut this down. Or, maybe after so long of being shut down himself, that being offered an honest chance to be understood by someone who somewhat represents this world's version of the very thing he's fighting against back home, he's in a similar position. Here's a rare chance, one he might not be offered again, and while he struggles to make peace with himself for indulging in it, wondering if he's being weak right now, he can't turn it down.

After all, part of why he fights against being understood when people offer to try, is because he's been rejected for so long by people unwilling to. That he's been made to believe he isn't something to understand, that him and his are those to ignore and revile without reprieve. The unwanted, the undesirable, the unfit.

The "bad".]

That we ain't all the same.

[He offers gruffly, but without hesitance. There's a genuineness to how he answers that's as equally rough.]

This world—every world—ain't a "One Size Fits All" type of place. Not everyone can abide by the same standards, by the same rules—our circumstances ain't always the same. But, those who can't conform are cast aside and forgotten.

You high and mighty types, y'all just love crushing anything y'all don't like—anything different, anything abnormal.

By y'all standards, it's your right to, huh?

Edited 2019-09-03 01:51 (UTC)

[she doesn't answer, her mouth pursed into a thoughtful line.

he's still a fairly recent imPort, so what he's been witness to is...a great deal of chaos, and a lot of it with history. is that why he says crush...? it's certainly not always that. and often a last resort. for the sake of others...

it's not wrong to fight to protect the innocent. she won't hear him say it is. she'd better not.

her fingers had trailed off, but Golisopod making a sound snaps her back into scritching once more.]

...What of compromise? What do you think of that?

[Chaos is something he can deal with, and something he prefers. His problem is more the control that the other imPorts seem to think they have a right to enact on others. Like they're the authority, like they're better.]

I don't think it's something that can happen.

[His certainty is pretty clear on the topic, but his head tilts curiously.]

But! You're hearin' me out, so I'll hear you out. Whaddaya got in mind?

[her eyebrows raise, quiet a beat. what, so he can mock her efforts? or is this...actual intention to listen? like getting like in turn. she'll be impressed if it is.

after licking her lips in thought, she lets out a sigh.]

I wish...I had a clearer picture. Things were much more black and white where I came from. The lines were already drawn before I had to pick up the sword. It's why I can't make such grand, altering choices on my own. It's why I'm still trying to learn from the others who have been here longer, the ones freshly here...and all the people who have been born here, here all along.

[and gods, it's hard. every day, something can tip the scales this way or that, and she has to be fast on her feet to react. even when it hurts. especially when it hurts. when it makes her better or worse...she still has to react.

she looks past him, her expression growing somewhat cloudy.]

The answers...change by the day, I think. There's nothing ironclad here except for change itself. That's more apparent these days than ever before.

...I'm sorry. I've never had a true answer. If that's what you thought I had, well... [her mouth tugs a grim smirk as she shrugs.]

[For his part, he does listen, his expression hard and serious, but he doesn't seem to be ignoring what she's saying. He does seem to be listening, even if she gives basically a non-answer. Can't say he's surprised, he already could tell she's more of a swordswoman than a wordsmith, let alone a strategist. However, he doesn't seem too terribly bothered by this fact, shrugging his shoulders a bit casually.]

I feel that. [He says that bit pretty plainly, no edge to his voice, just honesty.] This world is a bit more complex in ways I didn't expect—I come from a smaller island society—puny compared to this place.

Everything scales, yo. More people, more opinions, more problems. Gets all the more messy when you have foreigners bustin' in the place, makin' changes, and asserting themselves like they own the place.

I don't envy the natives here.

[Maybe a little bit of a tangent, but he doesn't care.]

That's why I don't think a compromise can be met, yo. It ain't a matter of just two dudes coming at each other over a slight—there's too many parts, too many people. And someone's bound to get shafted—and it'll always be those like me.

Those who can't change, fighting against those who won't. Compromise ain't the answer here.

[Fortunately, the Pokémon for the most part have taken to entertaining themselves, or napping. Pinsir is picking up sticks and breaking them (Ariados still on him), Masquerain has perched onto Golisopod's back for a snooze, Scizor is watching the two diligently from a seated position on the grass, Mightyena and Crobat seem to be chatting it up among themselves. Crobat might have attempted to get Scizor involved in the conversation, he's been unfortunately ignored, poor buddy.]

[how can he be so sure? if his world was so different, so less broad... Lucina's brow knits as she presses her lips into a thin line once more, her eyes flickering over toward the sound of Mightyena and Crobat's strange, interspecies chatter.]

...I don't know, Guzma. [she says at length, looking back.] I only know that...I wouldn't be myself if I gave up trying. I don't want to give up on anyone, or...any chance there can be greater peace for everyone here. Even the smallest chance counts for more than nothing, I think.

[it can be too idealistic, too fanciful...but it's very much ingrained in her. she is her father's daughter, after all, and common sense never stopped him from pursuing what he believed in, either.

she pauses for a beat before offering the basket to him.]

Here. They're all for you and your friends. I think you'll know better where to plant the extras, so they'll have plenty more to follow.

[It's far less that he is sure, and far more that he can't afford putting that sort of trust in people anymore. To compromise, is to allow anyone else some form of power. It's to pretend to be equal, when he knows no one truly wants that. They'll say it, they'll pretend it, for the sake of biding time, but anyone who has power is not going to give it up without a fight. No one wants to be taken down from their lofty position of superiority, and they certainly don't want to raise anyone else up to join them.

He watches her as she says her piece, unsure what to make of it. Unsure what to make of her, honestly. Towards the end, he looks away for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before the gesture catches his attention. He stares at the basket, then to her, before taking it. Again his eyes fall to it, looking over the contents—there's certainly a good amount, she didn't stiff him at all.]

...They'll appreciate it, bunch of bleedin' hearts, tch...

[He does too, but he won't say that. Even if Golisopod is giving him a knowing look. Guzma ignores it. It almost seems like he's going to drop the previous topic entirely, but then he levels a conflicted sort of stare at her.]

Tell me. [There's an uncomfortable pause, as if he's really considering his next words carefully.] You want peace for everyone, or so you're frontin'—but how honest is that, huh?

What about those who're like me, do we truly fit in with your "greater peace"? The ones who don't quite play by your rules? Do you actually want peace for us, or are you assuming we all have the same idea of "peace"? Are we just another problem to fix, just more people to beat into submission so the rest of y'all can chill, never givin' another fuck about us loud and angry assholes ruinin' your perfect paradise?

[she shakes her head at that last bit.] There is no perfect paradise, Guzma. Only the effort to find better. [an endless climb. it's sometimes so impossibly far as to be disheartening and too heavy to hold, but at other times the greatest source of inspiration there is... and never either of those things forever.

Guzma definitely could've let her fall to her death that time. or not bothered to cooperate with her and the rest of Aegis at the OTO base -- instead wreaking havoc to suit his own selfish pleasures. that, in some ways, is compromise of choice. more is possible. there has to be, because that's what life lived among others demands.

she turns partly away from him, stepping more toward the cluster of Pokemon, but keeps her talk directed his way.]

I remember my father telling me once...that all people, no matter where they're from or what they become, want happiness. The shapes that happiness take are what make all the difference between cohesion or conflict. Sometimes I forget that...but it is true, isn't it? So I can't take things so lightly.

[at that, she does turn away from him, holding her hand out for Mightyena to pad over and smush his nose against.]

But if someone's happiness comes at the cost of lives...it can't be that way. So I'll put my happiness aside to make sure others will be safe to find theirs. And if that means being one of those people stood up front to take the brunt of people's anger against it...so be it.

[He gives her a flat look at the start of her response. He's well aware of there not being a perfect paradise, and how that's a fantastical pipe dream. Doesn't change the fact people think they can achieve it, that they'll ignore and shun any that mar the shallow surface of that deluded fantasy. That any who aren't able to fit into their role, who can't pretend that everything is right and perfect, are cast aside and forgotten.

Living proof of a society's mistakes, yet it isn't the society, nor the people who perpetuate such an absurdity that pays the price. No, it's people like Guzma, people like Team Skull who bear their scorn. Who suffer, and continue to suffer, as they're ignored and treated like strangers in their own home.

As she begins to talk about her father, Guzma's eyes fall back to the berries. He attempts to make it look casual, more like he's not interested in what she's saying, than the fact hearing her mention her father made him think about his for even a second. The thought pressed far from his mind not too long after, and he's glad that her attention seems to be on the Pokémon and not him for that momentary discomfort.

His eyes flick back to her when she mentions sacrificing her own happiness for others, a scowl appearing on his face. Even if Mightyena is being way cute as he does indeed smush his nose against her hand, it's not enough to distract Guzma from his irritation.]

I've never got that, yo.

What's the point of givin' up your own happiness so others can be happy, huh? What about you—why is your happiness less valuable than the rest? Ain't you deserving of it?

Or...is this some self-important high-and-mighty way of thinking? Like you're righteous and better 'cos you're doing some grand display of being a martyr, and you're gracious enough to allow people their happiness?

[Guzma shakes his head, shrugging with annoyance.]

Your old man ain't wrong—happiness comes in all different forms and shapes, and sometimes your happiness don't fit, and it never will. Or maybe it ain't the happiness that's a poor fit, but you. Hate to break it to you, princess, but some people are meant to be miserable and spiteful their whole lives, 'cos what they need ain't ever gonna get met. So, the best they can do is fight for it, take what they can, and crush any who stands in their way—and even after all that, who's to say they're even gonna get it—but you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, right?

[Happiness, being a trial captain, belonging in a society that you so loved at one point... to Guzma, those things were one in the same, and all were certainly denied to him because he wasn't a good fit. He was too angry. He was too damaged, and the damage wasn't even his fault, but it's the ball and chain the keeps him down and holds him back.

Again, and again, and again...]

So, it must be nice, huh? To actually have the choice to give that up. Sure wonder what that's like, tch...

[He might be getting a little riled at this point, and it's far less because of anything Lucina's done. Well, the topic has kind of kicked up some thoughts, and some bad memories. His mind wanders to Kukui, his face scrunches with annoyance and distaste, before he looks away. From not only Lucina, but the Pokémon as well, his gaze settling on nothing of note. Childishly, he just doesn't even wanna look at her right now, or his temper might get the better of him.]

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