Update
So I thought maybe I should post something to show that I'm still alive. I'm doing well. Still working as a game QA tester. Still playing too much World of Warcraft, lol. Although this past week I've mostly been playing Skyward Sword because it's fucking epic.
And yeah, to answer all the questions I've gotten, no, Faux has not been abandoned, and yes, we're working on the next chapter. Slowly but surely? We've been trying to figure out a writing schedule because as you may already know, I'm in Canada and lyricalrawr is in the UK, so it's hard to be online at the same time with the time difference when we're both working.
So... I was going through my old files earlier and I found an old drabble I wrote a couple years ago for the kink meme and never bothered posting anywhere. Mostly because it doesn't even have a title and because I was probably half asleep (or drunk?) when I wrote it and totally forgot about it. It's in Edgeworth's POV and very different from my usual style. I'm not even sure how I feel about it, but I figured I might as well post it.
---
I admired him. So trustful. So determined. So... strong. I longed for his attention, for his acknowledgment. I couldn't wait to grow up so I could be just like him. I was happy, then. I think. Sometimes I feel as if I don't even know what that means.
He's gone, now, but I still admire him. It seemed easier, back then, though. Before it happened. Before I was stripped of everything I had. Of everything that was important to me. Everything that brought me the comfort I needed. Except I didn't know, then. I didn't know what comfort was. Or rather, what it meant. How to find it again, once it was lost.
I guess I was foolish, once. But when, or for what, I'm not sure. Was I foolish to believe in my childhood dream? Or was I foolish to give up on it so easily? How am I supposed - where am I supposed - to find the answer? Does it even matter anymore? Would it change anything?
They say that, when a child has a dream, they don't realise the time and effort it takes to make it come true. But I did. Or I think I did. Either way, I was willing to work my hardest to achieve my goal. What I didn't know was that fate - if it even exists - could be so cruel. I never even considered the possibility of this kind of thing happening. How could I be so foolish?
I believed for the longest time that everything was my fault. I know, now, that it was not the truth - he's shown me that - but sometimes, I still wonder. What if I hadn't been so blind from the beginning? What if I hadn't been so obsessed with being like him? Would things have turned out differently, then?
But he keeps telling me that it doesn't matter. That bad things happen all the time. That they simply make you stronger. Is that really how it is? Am I supposed to just forget about everything? Has he forgotten about everything?
I tend to believe I was stronger, back then. Or I think I was. How could any of this have made me stronger? If anything, it's only made me weaker. So weak I could barely stand it. So weak I thought I was lost.
That's when he came along. That's when I began to understand. And it scared me. It scared me cause I realised that, deep down, I always knew I was wrong. I knew I'd been wrong the whole time. About what, I wasn't sure, but I knew that I'd been lying to myself. That I had convinced myself I was doing the right thing, even though it felt wrong - even though everyone else seemed to think I was wrong.
I've learned a lot since then. I know, now, what the true meaning of all this is. What it's always been. I used to think that I knew everything there was to know. That nothing else mattered. I was wrong. In fact, I didn't know anything. Anything that really mattered, anyway. I had to question everything I believed in - to relearn everything from the beginning. I was terrified. But I kept going. Because as much as I hated to admit it, I knew, deep down, that he was right.
I used to walk my path alone, convinced that was the only thing I could do. From anyone else's point of view, I must have looked happy, I guess. Whatever that means. I had everything. Or so it seemed. None of it truly mattered. And most of all, I was alone. I had always been alone.
Then, when he approached me and offered me his help, I refused. I guess I had convinced myself that I didn't need any help - that I didn't deserve any help. But he wouldn't hear any of it. He didn't leave me any choice. Never, since him, had I seen so much trust, so much determination, so much... strength. Was that a sign? Or simply irony? If everything that had happened to me so far was anything to go by, the latter seemed more plausible. And it was rather irritating.
I didn't realise it then, but he had opened my eyes. I became more aware of my surroundings. Of things that were invisible to me before. Aware of what I'd been doing. Aware that something had to be done to fix all of this. I realised what a fool I'd been, blinded by my own ambition. Blinded by my subconscious desire to punish myself.
I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. A lot of things I'd rather forget. But he keeps telling me that it doesn't matter. And I'm starting to think that he may be right. He's always right. He's helped me understand so many things. I know, now, that it doesn't matter which path you walk. That the goal is the same, in the end. I know, now, that it's okay to have weaknesses. That you don't have to be perfect - that nobody can be perfect.
Now, I think I finally understand. I don't have to be alone. I've been alone all of my life because I chose to. But it's okay to reach out. It's okay to seek the comfort I once had. I don't have to be alone. And maybe, just maybe, can I choose to be happy. Whatever that means.
Fin
---
And now I need to get some sleep!
And yeah, to answer all the questions I've gotten, no, Faux has not been abandoned, and yes, we're working on the next chapter. Slowly but surely? We've been trying to figure out a writing schedule because as you may already know, I'm in Canada and lyricalrawr is in the UK, so it's hard to be online at the same time with the time difference when we're both working.
So... I was going through my old files earlier and I found an old drabble I wrote a couple years ago for the kink meme and never bothered posting anywhere. Mostly because it doesn't even have a title and because I was probably half asleep (or drunk?) when I wrote it and totally forgot about it. It's in Edgeworth's POV and very different from my usual style. I'm not even sure how I feel about it, but I figured I might as well post it.
---
I admired him. So trustful. So determined. So... strong. I longed for his attention, for his acknowledgment. I couldn't wait to grow up so I could be just like him. I was happy, then. I think. Sometimes I feel as if I don't even know what that means.
He's gone, now, but I still admire him. It seemed easier, back then, though. Before it happened. Before I was stripped of everything I had. Of everything that was important to me. Everything that brought me the comfort I needed. Except I didn't know, then. I didn't know what comfort was. Or rather, what it meant. How to find it again, once it was lost.
I guess I was foolish, once. But when, or for what, I'm not sure. Was I foolish to believe in my childhood dream? Or was I foolish to give up on it so easily? How am I supposed - where am I supposed - to find the answer? Does it even matter anymore? Would it change anything?
They say that, when a child has a dream, they don't realise the time and effort it takes to make it come true. But I did. Or I think I did. Either way, I was willing to work my hardest to achieve my goal. What I didn't know was that fate - if it even exists - could be so cruel. I never even considered the possibility of this kind of thing happening. How could I be so foolish?
I believed for the longest time that everything was my fault. I know, now, that it was not the truth - he's shown me that - but sometimes, I still wonder. What if I hadn't been so blind from the beginning? What if I hadn't been so obsessed with being like him? Would things have turned out differently, then?
But he keeps telling me that it doesn't matter. That bad things happen all the time. That they simply make you stronger. Is that really how it is? Am I supposed to just forget about everything? Has he forgotten about everything?
I tend to believe I was stronger, back then. Or I think I was. How could any of this have made me stronger? If anything, it's only made me weaker. So weak I could barely stand it. So weak I thought I was lost.
That's when he came along. That's when I began to understand. And it scared me. It scared me cause I realised that, deep down, I always knew I was wrong. I knew I'd been wrong the whole time. About what, I wasn't sure, but I knew that I'd been lying to myself. That I had convinced myself I was doing the right thing, even though it felt wrong - even though everyone else seemed to think I was wrong.
I've learned a lot since then. I know, now, what the true meaning of all this is. What it's always been. I used to think that I knew everything there was to know. That nothing else mattered. I was wrong. In fact, I didn't know anything. Anything that really mattered, anyway. I had to question everything I believed in - to relearn everything from the beginning. I was terrified. But I kept going. Because as much as I hated to admit it, I knew, deep down, that he was right.
I used to walk my path alone, convinced that was the only thing I could do. From anyone else's point of view, I must have looked happy, I guess. Whatever that means. I had everything. Or so it seemed. None of it truly mattered. And most of all, I was alone. I had always been alone.
Then, when he approached me and offered me his help, I refused. I guess I had convinced myself that I didn't need any help - that I didn't deserve any help. But he wouldn't hear any of it. He didn't leave me any choice. Never, since him, had I seen so much trust, so much determination, so much... strength. Was that a sign? Or simply irony? If everything that had happened to me so far was anything to go by, the latter seemed more plausible. And it was rather irritating.
I didn't realise it then, but he had opened my eyes. I became more aware of my surroundings. Of things that were invisible to me before. Aware of what I'd been doing. Aware that something had to be done to fix all of this. I realised what a fool I'd been, blinded by my own ambition. Blinded by my subconscious desire to punish myself.
I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of. A lot of things I'd rather forget. But he keeps telling me that it doesn't matter. And I'm starting to think that he may be right. He's always right. He's helped me understand so many things. I know, now, that it doesn't matter which path you walk. That the goal is the same, in the end. I know, now, that it's okay to have weaknesses. That you don't have to be perfect - that nobody can be perfect.
Now, I think I finally understand. I don't have to be alone. I've been alone all of my life because I chose to. But it's okay to reach out. It's okay to seek the comfort I once had. I don't have to be alone. And maybe, just maybe, can I choose to be happy. Whatever that means.
Fin
---
And now I need to get some sleep!