10 [Accidental Video]

[stealsumbrellas]

[Rhode is on the roof of the apartment complex, her toes hanging off of the edge, as she stares down at the ground with an eerily blank expression. There is blood on her hands, from some cuts, which she wipes against the white of her stockings. Broken bottles are behind her, tossed around the roof, as if someone threw them. Wind is blowing her

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[OFFLINE]

[tothelastbreath]

[He doesn't look away during the exchange, simply watches her watch the card. Only when she turns does his own gaze fall between them; a heavy, brooding look at the rest of the card's design when he finally lifts his hand and slides it back to her. He's remembering the first time he saw her Door, how mocking its polished crown had looked right after her talk of superhumans, then her sing-song of a parting shot ― 'You're so nice, Allen,' when he had simply been too certain of everything, but understood too little. And maybe he still doesn't understand, not fully, but he knows a little better now.

The edge of the card brushes her hand, and the tips of Allen's fingers with it.]

No, Rhode. Choices make things change.

[7000 years of both sides doing what they're each meant for, 7000 years of fighting, bloodshed, and rebirth that's really just a vicious cycle. "Mad puppets," Neah called them all and chose, the Earl chose, Allen chose and will continue to choose despite being told he has no choice to speak of. Now everything is changing―]

Choices make people change.

[―everyone is changing, and Allen doesn't doubt the rest of them will soon be making choices of their own. Some of them already have.]

It's still hard to tell if it's for better or worse, [not to mention it's entirely subjective] but...

[She's right, things have interfered with what they're meant for. None of them are quite as sure as they were before, and the war, fuelled for milleniums by their convictions, is finally starting to burn out. He was just talking to Lenalee the other day about how it seems the end is coming up so fast, but―]

...if doing what we're meant for means to keep following the script, I'd rather choose, and fight to change [he says this word with a finality that rings of 'end', and although this is the furthest thing from his mind right now, Hevlaska once prophesied that he would become the Destroyer of Time―] things for the better.

[OFFLINE]

[stealsumbrellas]

Don't be so naive.

[It's harsh, and Rhode turns to glare at him. It's impossible to tell exactly what the girl is feeling -- there's a certain level of hatred, in her eyes, but conflicting with sadness, too -- impossible heartache and frustration and -- there, in the very corners of her eyes -- fear.]

You don't know whether or not things are better or worse, Allen. You never will.

[Because Allen doesn't even know who he is. He's awakening -- he's a Noah -- he's one of them --

But that's not entirely fair, is it? Because Rhode -- she doesn't even know who she is, and that's what really pisses her off. She had been so certain, so black and white, and then Allen freaking Walker had to show her how damn good he is.

Her fingers curl into fists and she tears her gaze away from him to glare at the ground.]

Tyki chooses what he wants. He doesn't let anything happen to him that he doesn't want to. And he's not here anymore.

[Finally, Rhode turns to glare at Allen again, and there's the tiniest glistening of tears in her eyes.]

You tell me how good your choices are now.