I cannot defend you, but I'll try and I'll be there.

[callinallfreaks]

All is quiet in the Kashtta lobby. You know, the way things ...probably shouldn't be, considering the Kashtta, but that's beside the point. At least it doesn't stay that way for long

Comments

[despite_myrage]

Robin is annoyed. The annoyance is mixing with the anger, and it's even more of a struggle to keep it all under control. It's almost good. The struggle to maintain control is distracting. The annoyance increases when the angel actually shoves him and then simply walks away. It's not the first time that Robin has managed to get someone to want to fight him... but it's been awhile. He manages not to fall backward at the shove, because he'd been waiting to be hit.

"Very few people choose to be what they are," Robin finally says, taking a few steps toward him.

He doesn't want him to back down. He wants the fight. It's not even conscious, the desire to push until something somewhere snaps. He knows logically that this person is in no state to listen to him, but that doesn't stop him. It never stops him. It's how he ended up being strangled by Scout when she first came in.

"If you'll remember, I said that I did not think that you chose to be what you are. I said several times that there's no choice," Robin says. There's anger in his tone, even if his words are calm and ration. There's always anger, and he doesn't care if the angel attacks him. He doesn't care if he pushes another person to that point. "As much as you falling is a choice, it's not that fucking simple either. Nothing is simple. According to most of the angels in this world, every vengeance angel is an abomination. According to a lot of people, any one that's different is an abomination. I no longer think that I'm one. I don't think you're one either, because as long as we keep viewing ourselves that way... that's the only way other people will see us."

The wisdom would probably be more effective if he wasn't practically trembling with the effort to keep all that rage and annoyance and frustration under control. It can't be stopped. It's always there. It's like poison.

[godtooksides]

"I'm not--you don't fucking get it," the angel snaps, lashing out with a hand when Robin comes closer to him. It's not a calculated hit, more like a wild flail that just happens to connect with Robin's chest, and it's more to punctuate than anything meant to attack. "I'm not a fucking angel. I fucki--I used to be. I fucking used to be, okay?"

His hands ball into fists again, the anger fighting with his need to run away, the way it always does. It's the same old dance, fight or flight warring inside him while he stands there frozen, staring at the ground. He's there for a long moment, shaking hard enough that he feels like he could fall over, wingstubs twitching -- if they were wings, they'd be flexing out and then folding again, but all he can do is faintly echo the movements. Not that he ever does it on purpose; everything about them is involuntary at this point.

"I'm not fucking choosing to deny what I am," he says. "I want--I don't fucking know, okay? Whether I should be one of you again or just fucking Fall, just to--fucking get it over with, keep you from--from fucking telling me what you think I fucking am. There's no fucking us. Not unless--"

He cuts off with another gasp, curling his arms around his head for a second and leaning over. The rage boils over with a small, strangled, frustrated scream, and he turns on Robin again, flailing out, hitting him as hard as he can, over and over.

"Not unless you can give me my fucking wings back!" he yells at the other man, punctuating every other word with another hit.

[despite_myrage]

"Just because someone took your wings away doesn't mean you're not an angel anymore. If you weren't, I wouldn't see you as one," Robin spits the words out between his teeth, jaw locked with anger. His fists tremble by his sides. He'll keep it in. He'll keep it under control. "Which means you still have the choice to fall."

Robin doesn't say anything more. He doesn't back down. He remains standing. It's not like he's warring with the same issues. Should he remain as an angel under the control of another person or should he become human again? Human. The very idea makes him feel sick.

"You're not the only one trying to make that choice right now. Yes, your circumstances are more extreme than most, but you're not the only one," he says, still between his teeth with his jaw locked.

And then the angel attacks him. Robin doesn't bother fighting back. This is what he wanted. It feels more right than anything has since Rachel found out he wasn't honest with her. If the angel still had his wings, this would hurt much more than it does. As it is, Robin's able to remain standing for a long time through the hits. One after the other. The pain feels right. It's the punishment that he's needed for so long, for so many things that he's done wrong. It's distraction from the rage and the internal debate.

Robin groans and sinks to his knees when it finally becomes too much for him. He's leaning over his knees as he turns his head to look back up at him. Robin wipes the back of his hand across his chin, breathing heavily and wincing at the sharp pain.

"Feel better now?" Bitter, angry words.

If the angel tries attacking him again, Robin will hit back this time.

[godtooksides]

As the angel's attacking, he's still yelling at Robin: "You don't know what this fucking is. You don't fucking know -- I can't fucking feel anything, that's--it's not like--this is fucking wrong and you wouldn't fucking know because you--"

The swings don't cut off when the words do; really, the words just cut in and out, as though he just forgets, sometimes, that he was saying anything. "I used to be a fucking angel." Hit, connect. "I'm not going--" Hit, connect. "--to fucking Fall, I already fucking lost--" Hit, connect. Hit. Connect. "Cut your fucking wings off--" Hit, connect. "--see how it fucking feels then."

He stops, after awhile, the rage suddenly exhausted. It never sticks around for long, and afterwards he always wants to curl into a ball, to hide away from the rest of the world. Instead, he just cringes away, as if expecting Robin to hit back, finally, to retaliate somehow. They always do. "No," he says, slumping against the wall, curled in against himself. He's trying not to double over or run out the door. "Don't you fuc--don't talk to me until--until you fucking know. You--you don't." The words are angry, but the delivery is just weak, the complete opposite of the confrontational he was just seconds ago.

[despite_myrage]

Robin doesn't say anything. It's useless. It's useless to speak, and he's getting what he wants anyway.

What more would he say?

The words that he's saying doesn't matter to Robin.

They really don't.

It's only when the angel stops that he even bothers moving. It's slow. He pushes himself up with effort, wiping his mouth and trying to catch his breath.

"So what then? You'll never talk to anyone? Because I can guarantee you that nobody knows what you're going through. Even someone else that's got their wings cut off, won't know exactly. It doesn't do any good to keep it all locked up. I can tell you that much," Robin says, pressing his hand to his jaw and wincing. "I really hope you feel better now."

[godtooksides]

"Doesn't do me any fucking good to say anything," the angel snaps back. It's an automatic reaction, but a true one -- this encounter is a case in point. This guy won't back down, will keep insisting he's an angel -- he knows what being an angel feels like, and this isn't it. This is just some Hell in between.

He doesn't feel better. He's just tired, which could be a substitute for feeling better if he could ever get any fucking sleep after these things. But no; he's exhausted, but his body's still in fight or flight mode, and he's the frozen rabbit in the corner, hoping that if he doesn't move, the predator will lose interest.

[despite_myrage]

"I meant to talk about what happened to you. I bet you've never gone into much detail about it. Have you?"

Not that it helps all that much.

He's talked about the abuse that he's endured at the hands of his mother. Robin's even talked about it in detail, and the rage is still there.

It's opening himself up to relationships, to love that helped in the end. Despite the risk, opening up is the answer. It's the only one that makes sense.

He's been an ass to this random person, and he doesn't quite want to stay around him any longer.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, tiredly, and then just... walks away. Awkward exits were once common with him, and it seems like it's that way again.

[godtooksides]

The way the angel snaps his head up and stares at Robin when the other asks would be a sufficient answer to his question, if it were that easy to read the angel's frightened stares. One might think it was a "God no, I haven't" reaction; one would be wrong. He's talked about it. He was forced to, time and time again, at the asylum, before they dumped him out on the streets. None of it helped. He could never quite work up enough rage.

And then the other man's gone, without even waiting for his answer. He still doesn't move for awhile, staring at the door in case anyone else comes into the room -- drawn by the yelling or just passing by. But then, suddenly, he sinks to the floor again, curling into a little ball and starting to cry. Fuck. Fuck. This was just not what he needed today.