Night 59: Men's Bathrooms (M41-M80)

[deadlyjuliet]

[from here]

Exquisite. There was no other way to describe being in a hall one moment and then suddenly appearing in the restroom in less time than it took the rest of the Institute to take a breath. This place was dark as always and Grell grinned as he realized it didn't matter this time. A death god's eyes, nearsighted as they might be, were

Comments

[falseblack]

[From here.]

The thought sustained itself in the shifting environment. The recall of madness unraveled in the transition, and Nigredo pondered on why a beloved child would keep from tearing apart his sibling. A strange aspect to consider in an empty bathroom, but he supposed reasoning was a healthy part of life. It helped keep the extremes in check, at least, and he had resolved to balance in part. As Nigredo cleared each space from possible dangers, his mind moved.

The results settled in his stomach and churned in discomfort. There was truth in what Albedo had said: he would have destroyed Nigredo without hesitance if certain things had not been remembered. That had hurt, leaving the younger to react with empty laughter, but perhaps he had been wrong to focus. He couldn't fault another for a lapse in what was expected, and it remained that Albedo had tried. Was currently trying as opposed to burying him upon appearance.

This was not the Miltian Conflict. Best to leave comparisons as simple comparisons, nothing more.

Nausea broke, and he found himself rushing into a stall. Nothing expelled from his stomach, but the child began to sob. Pressed bloodied hands against his eyes and lost himself to tears. Whether in relief or otherwise, it wasn't said.

[damned_monsters]

The door opened soon after the boy had started crying, although it wasn't followed by the click of too many legs or the scraping of claws against tile. No, just footsteps.

"Man, if only I had my guns -- huh?" The voice echoed through what had been thought an empty bathroom, but that turned out to not be the case at all. The sound of footsteps grew more hurried as the figure followed the sound of crying.

What looked to be a boy -- and one nearly identical to the one already present -- drew closer. It would be hard to tell with no light, but his features went from curious to upset at what he found. "Nigredo!"

There was no doubt that it was Rubedo, a brother who had been thought long lost. He raced over and knelt down next to his sibling, face drawn into a frown. "What's going on here?"

[falseblack]

One couldn't fault him for weakness. When taken to a private corner, one could not reproach tears. Therefore, an intrusion of space was considered the highest crime, and with effort, Nigredo stifled his sounds long enough to raise Senna's blade. It hadn't been ten minutes for Albedo to follow. A voice (familiar) and footsteps (light) called for a sentient being, but at the height of emotion, he could only wished to cut it down.

A brother might not mind a show of vulnerability. Such sentiments were not shared by others, and if history held, a meeting here would be used against him later. The form came into proximity, and the child moved to--

"Nigredo!"

--halt all processes. The sword dropped from his hands to clatter on the floor, and without meaning to, without volition, he stared. There stood a mirror before him with eyes of blue and an expression in dismay, and Nigredo hadn't thought he would ever see him again.

"Ru...bedo..." He trailed off, noting how the limbs in his body sagged and the muscles slowly lost their functions. The child moved a shaky step back--in vain, as Rubedo merely approached to kneel beside him. Close. Close enough to touch.

This set a spark in Nigredo's mind. In a panic, he stumbled against the plumbing and landed hard on the toilet seat. Don't. "Don't." Don't what? Here, they were only siblings, were they not? The fact of powers did not apply to them. Except now--in this place, in this time--they did, and with Red Dragon and Executioner meeting face-to-face, the latter couldn't dream of the implications even as Nigredo wished they were nothing but.

"You shouldn't be so close," he said, less a warning and more concern.

[damned_monsters]

As the sword fell, Rubedo startled for a moment, staring down at the blade as if it was something foreign. That was hardly the case, but it might be more that he was used to seeing his brother wielding weapons of a different sort.

Nigredo was obviously surprised to see him, but even though the boy was retreating from him, Rubedo wasn't willing to let him pull away completely. He frowned at him, a mix of worried and upset, and then slowly got to his feet and reached out to put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

That was a complete contradiction to what Nigredo was saying, but seeing how the boy was not in a good state, Rubedo was only so willing to accept his words.

"Why? Nigredo, what happened?" There were many unasked questions that were clearer on his face: Why are you crying? What is the sword for? Who hurt you like this?

[falseblack]

In his haste, he had failed to note the implications. Until Rubedo acted contrary to his request, Nigredo hadn't considered the reasons. He looked down and caught the red on his hands. Recalled the sensation of blood and tears against his cheeks and the glint of metal on the floor. The truth behind his sibling's questions clicked into place, and suddenly, he felt ashamed.

This brother wasn't for showing weakness. Rubedo would likely find his current state bothersome. Probably viewed it as a burden. Even as the elder's expression hinted at worry, Nigredo did not desire such an approach from this source.

He quickly ran both hands against his thighs, a failed attempt at rubbing out the blood. "I'm fine," he muttered as the variant adverted his gaze. The need to rub at his eyes piqued, but he eventually pushed it aside. "I just ran into monsters."

There was a brief pause. Nigredo swallowed thickly. "And you know why." They shouldn't touch. The pair existed as opposites at the height of their power; of course, they should never touch.

[damned_monsters]

That explanation seemed to appease the boy, as he pulled his hand away from Nigredo's shoulder and then took a step backward. The blood still wasn't a welcome sight, but Rubedo was also the sort of person who had seen enough of it that he could brush it off, or so it seemed.

"You're not hurt, are you?" There was still the question of why Nigredo had escaped into the bathroom, but that apparently wasn't up for discussion.

"We can take on any more of those monsters together, okay?" He even managed to provide a slightly confident smile and then bent down to pick up the other's sword for him, extending it to him by the handle. "Let's get out of here." Crying in a bathroom wasn't going to get them anywhere, after all.

[falseblack]

The small distance allowed for breathing room. Nigredo forced a shaky exhale and entwined his fingers together, rubbing lightly to undo the remaining stains. His mind worked backwards in an attempt to extrapolate reason, a clumsy attempt to place Rubedo's presence. It suddenly made no sense for the eldest to be here, to coincidentally appear when nothing had pressed against their connection on the link.

It dawned on him in an instant. In the place of where Rubedo's waveform used to be, there was a hole. An obvious absence where power should dwell. Combined with the presented query, Nigredo began to question.

He looked at Rubedo, looked at the sword, and though his instincts told him otherwise, the child stayed immobile. "Wait," he started, pausing once to consider his bearings. "When did you get here? What about...Albedo?"

[damned_monsters]

A facade, of course, could only last for so long. The thing that was wearing Rubedo's face knew that and had known it from the start. It would have been fun to have strung this out a bit longer, but in the end it made the most sense to make its attack in an enclosed space like this.

And so the expression on the boy's face turned from something concerned yet confident into something far more malicious, an expression that belonged on the face of a different brother. It was eerie, to say the least.

"You shouldn't have asked so many questions." The idiot child hadn't even taken the sword back, which really put him at the disadvantage now. That was just fine with the mimic, of course. "Anyway, hope you aren't so trusting next time." Still wearing Rubedo's face, the creature lunged forward and slashed out with the sword, hoping to cut into Nigredo's chest.

[falseblack]

There was something like a beat between them, a break in the flow of time. Nigredo watched as the other went through a string of shifts, as countenance contorted to faces quite unlike Rubedo. While the killer in Nigredo understood he was caught in the grasp of another and urged himself to act in defense, the child looked on, unmoved. The sword in his (known or unknown) brother's hands whistled through the air, and suddenly, he couldn't tell if his heart or his mind had been ripped in two.

Dark liquid came first. Green eyes followed its trail to find a slit across his chest, opened to show muscle and bone. Such a sight called for an accompaniment of pain, but the shock proved enough to render all comprehension in Nigredo obsolete. He glanced up at Rubedo once more, something lost in his eyes.

But he wouldn't touch the other, no. A betray, a shattering, a promise aside, he couldn't fight against another who had every right to it. Regardless of form, even as this one was likely not his own, this brother could do as he wished, and Nigredo would never protest. The death was deserved. Perhaps its fulfillment would make up for his birth.

Perhaps this murder could set him free.

[purpletaint]

[from here]

He knew his twin’s heartbeat better than he knew his own.

With the frantic obsession that comes hand in hand with a chance at loss, he knew it; knew its pauses, stutters, and sure beats. Knew that it did not exist in front of him even as the form would mirror the owner, as the tones heard in the remains of a sentence copied perfectly. This was only another example of this place at work--another copy, another fake, another reality not Albedo’s own. Even as the same rules applied, the same aspects still there.

Aspects, rules, or mirror image, there was yet another variable--that in the drops of blood trailing off of the sword as the scenario in front of him seemed to freeze as he took in the points. Much like the night he had been contemplating, here was a brother’s blood stained upon steel. But neither of the set prone to battle and destruction. Neither Albedo’s or Rubedo’s marred the shine. Only Nigredo’s. Only the one destined to watch from the outside, and feel that pain stronger than Albedo himself. Hate built itself up on something nearly new and yet familiar--for Albedo had reacted before like this, had attacked in possessiveness, in protectiveness, for one closer than words could say. Here, it would compile itself, upon three meanings. The reaction towards one who had gained his ire, his hurt and pain--the only one who could tear him apart without even trying. The promise made, more to himself than another, to protect here. And the newly formed nuance of song and dance--

None would hurt Nigredo. Not even Albedo’s twin.

Something sparked and shattered along him, and time sped up again. Albedo laughed madly, because, really this whole scenario was hilarious, wasn’t it?! Violet and magenta began to coalesce around his body, flickering and flaring in a way that spoke only of threat to those who could read waveforms as easily as minds. It was hilarious, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?! For Albedo would fight Rubedo to defend Nigredo. But~ The thing was…~

Rubedo wasn’t here. No. Just a copy of a copy, a pitiful design that couldn’t even hold the fire that built along his other half’s soul. (This is what he told himself. This is what there was.)

He could speak it as well as any--he could quote that man just as well: There is always some madness in love.

But there is also always some reason in madness.

Albedo darted forward suddenly, speed augmented by usage of those magenta waves. His waveform shone around a hand, and when close, the entity dropped down to strike upward with that hand strengthened by power--intending to force his hand completely through the torso of the one that wore his other heart’s face.

There was madness in Albedo’s expression. Pain and rage and delight. There existed also the careful quantity that made him go for a lethal attack and not a playful one--he was defending another, and not merely attacking to sate his own urges.

[damned_monsters]

Surprisingly enough, the child took the attack without any complaint, without even crying out. And yet the mimic could tell that he was in a different sort of anguish, something that it could feed on and grown strong from. Its stolen lips curled up into a sated smirk, but then --

Then the door opened and yet another one strolled in. The creature knew enough from the few memories it could borrow of this Rubedo to realize that this was the third and last brother. The one who could heal, the one who couldn't be predicted. The tables had suddenly been turned and it only had a split second to react.

And so it switched its attack from one brother to the other, from black to white, as it turned with the sword still in hand, just fast enough to block Albedo's onslaught with the blade. It was clear now that Albedo's arm was no longer just an arm, but that it had been transformed into something else through his own power. That wasn't something that the mimic could compete with, but it had a few tricks up its sleeve.

"So willing to take me down, twin?" the mimic said in Rubedo's voice, intending to mock Albedo, to draw a reaction out of him. "Since when did you decide you liked Nigredo more than me? I'm hurt." It put its free hand to its chest and then started to laugh, a strange mimicry of Albedo's own laughter from when he'd first entered.

But as it laughed, its teeth morphed into something different, sharpening into deadly fangs -- and suddenly it looked barely anything like their missing brother.

[falseblack]

A smile would keep him there. Laughter would break him of stagnation.

Another's waveform all but shone in the dark interior--magenta and violet and a color he couldn't name. Nigredo started at the onslaught of emotion as the brother he had once intended to return to met hand to sword, as twins confronted in a nature far too familiar to call a first. He walked to the stall door in uneven footsteps, the effort forcing blood to pour forth from the hole in his chest. Shock ebbed and placed determination before him. There was no choice. He couldn't name a conscious decision. He needed only to reach out and pull them apart.

Since when did you decide you liked Nigredo more than me?

What did he have that I didn't?

Instead, to freeze. That was the way of it, was it not? In regards to him, it seemed. To place him as an excuse for brothers to wage war while he didn't. Wouldn't. And they would watch the ones they loved turn against each other.

Now, pressed against the bathroom stall for support, it seemed to register. Rubedo had rejected Nigredo, in the simplest and basest of ways. In wanting the end of his life. And the youngest couldn't (despite knowing, always waiting with bated breath) stop the overwhelm of hurt. Couldn't bar wretched misery from mixing with the sensation of nerves. He couldn't stop his brothers who hated him, and in the process, what had snapped in half soon fell away. The world faded like a lone shadow on the wall. Consciousness should soon give out.

It was here memory took hold. It was here Nigredo finally remembered, and the thought forced him to breathe.

Albedo came for him as promised. Was now demonstrating protectiveness on his behalf, foreign as it might be. The middle variant could decide to declare a pass in preference, but as hopeless as he was, Nigredo wondered if he would say what had been made fact a day prior. That Albedo had chosen Nigredo. That he wanted him.

That he was something worth staying and not just simply a life to be thrown away.

[purpletaint]

Blade met power and sparks fell in a multicolored shine. It seemed that this thing could at least move in defense to some skill. With Nigredo’s blade, he would add. But the weapons did not stop there, and issuing forth from Rubedo’s mouth came words Albedo never thought to hear. And once heard, something eased inside of him. Loosened the deadly grip of hate into something sharper, a languid ease. The creature laughed as if a duplicate of Albedo himself, and Albedo smiled almost fondly.

The hand that had attacked twisted to grip the blade wholly in a firm grasp. He yanked forward on it at the same time his power billowed outward with force to throw the creature further back. “Twin?” Albedo echoed, laughter in the tones. “As if that blood traitor ever called me that in such casual use. And caring where my affections lay?” Albedo giggled, then tsked at the creature. “Better do your homework. That was my role, not his.” As if Rubedo ever cared anything of Albedo. As if the time was spent at all on unearthing the mysteries of the white-haired Variant.

The adamant defense had changed to deadly amusement in a blink, but still, even now, Albedo was aware of the scent of blood. But there was a two-step in this. There was a game to play, even now. Let the creature come.

[damned_monsters]

The creature tensed when Albedo grabbed for the blade, but it didn't have the time to wrench it back away from the boy before a wave of power had been sent through it. The energy moved through the blade as a conduit and then blasted right into the mimic's adopted form, causing it to cry out (around sharpened teeth, and with its voice distorted) and stumble back against the wall.

It didn't matter if its facts were wrong now, of course. The cat was already out of the bag and while these two were giving off enough negative emotion to make it feel satiated for a day or so, it still had to fight its way out.

With its fangs revealed and Rubedo's face distorted by a mouth that was suddenly too large, the mimic was ready to fight. It tossed the sword to the side, across the room, and then lunged for Albedo, hands reaching out to grab the boy's shoulders so that it could dig its teeth into his neck.

[purpletaint]

It seemed the creature wasn’t in the mood for further banter. The sword went spinning off, and Albedo straightened slowly, knees bent on the chance quick movement was needed. He had half thought the thing would take off after that, and he would have to give chase. Instead it came at him, despite the differences that were present now. Albedo felt its hands on him, and still, still recognized those hands, and for half a beat, he thought to let it. Not for the reasons Nigredo had thought, but for his own. For the simple fact of it was okay, if it was Rubedo.

…Faulty thoughts, that. And not wholly allowed in Albedo’s present state. His mind shifted and surged, for Albedo knew, knew well, what was required of Rubedo if they were to meet, one enlightened against one born a perfect weapon. Dragon versus near god, and if they were to come to terms, it would be through blood and burning, rage and hate, and Albedo knew that, had it pressed into him until he sobbed from the force. Yes, he knew.

It was why, as the creature leaned down, that Albedo did not physically react. Instead his force went to his waveform, will pushing power behind it, and he threw that into the thing that had worn Rubedo’s face, filling it with things humans, mortals, shouldn’t bear. Teeth closed into his neck, and Albedo’s eyes narrowed suddenly, disgusted by all of this charade. The entity pulled, and everything given came back to him with little wear.

This, of course, had the unpleasant side effect of destroying the thing in front of him, form exploding into pieces from the sharp flow of power slamming through it. It rained blood and gore, and Albedo absentmindedly lifted a hand to his neck--plucked out a sharp tooth that had stuck in a tendon and felt his flesh closing against his fingers.

It was alright, if it was Rubedo? Did he really keep to that now?

Albedo was unnaturally stoic, in the aftermath. There lacked giggles of delight or words thrown in knowledge and recrimination. For a moment, he was silent, thoughtful--fingers trailing along skin as if one unaware.

[falseblack]

What passed through awareness revealed little--a facet of conversation and a flutter in the air. Nothing of answers and deficiency in all else, and Nigredo was fading. There was murderous intent, but the child couldn't place the origin. Whether a want for death came hand-in-hand with protection or a sentiment on its own, he did not know. Could not say.

The child watched very carefully, but the images refused to stay. They danced to a offbeat rhythm as they pulled away from comprehension, falling to the wayside. There was an outcry, a play at war, and Rubedo's mouth shaped to suit that of a monster. Funny. In consideration of the implication, it seemed comedic for this brother. To act much like the label he had once despised with such a poignant display was contrary. So much so that it felt unreal.

And somehow, the patterns of this night seemed obvious. Nigredo deemed it perfectly reasonable to expect a dead end, despite what either might have held. What either might have been in a solitary world of only them. Someone here would die, regardless of who else was present.

The premonition arrived too late. Before he could reach out and beg for a peaceful resolution, flesh ripped against waveform. Rubedo, in that instant, was gone. In his place rained blood and pieces, and despite his faltering vision, he thought he recognized red hair. Fragments of a torn number.

As silence filled the room, Nigredo's waveform stuttered. Pressed against himself and gave away. The sight of a dead brother caused consciouness to flee, and the boy toppled to the floor.