Good things die all the time
Characters: Yuca Collabell (neverquitedies) and Kurotsuchi Mayuri (law_of_reason)
When: Shortly after this
Where: Kurotsuchi's lab
Rating: PG-15 for... possible gorybits and... well, it's them. Also, I'm apparently writing novels.
Summary: After another night of dreaming, Yuca gets a little too desperate and goes to Kurotsuchi to slice off pieces of his soul. You know. Into pieces. Repeatedly. How the hell he thinks this is going to work is anyone's guess.
Tell him I'm sick. Bad. Contagious. Tell Break- keep me away from him until you know I'm not dangerous.
Yuca cut the feed. He knew that Alphonse would come to get Rain, regardless of whether or not he liked it. He knew that Al would never leave Rain alone when Yuca wasn't there to protect him.
And... he knew that Alphonse would protect him in his own right. From Yuca himself, if he had to.
That was good. He needed that. He needed Break to help, with his swordsmanship, he knew they'd rope Zuko into it somehow. If this turned out badly, he knew that the three of them were powerful, the three of them wouldn't allow him to hurt Rain, no matter what. That's all he cared about. That's the only thing he needed to ensure before he left.
The door opened in a whisper- Alphonse said he could be here in ten minutes. Yuca needed to be gone in less than that; he didn't want a confrontation.
Why was he doing this? He'd be asked that later. He was already being asked that. And there was an answer, a remarkably simple answer: Yuca was desperate. He'd always been desperate like this, after he woke up- frantic, running, feet pounding, thoughts racing, heart beating, sobbing, suddenly hit with how painful it's all been, brutally attacked with memories that he'd spent years repressing. Reminded of how much he can't stand living, and driven to near-insanity with the sheer overwhelming force of his entire, long life.
He'd managed to keep it at bay for awhile now- thanks to Rhode, keeping his memories from him when he slept. But she wasn't here anymore, and the first time he'd passed out without her here was going to be the last- after that, Yuca wanted to ensure that nothing like that would ever happen again.
And this was the solution. Even if it wasn't the solution, it was the closest he could get, for now. It was a chance, and incredibly small chance, but it might work. It might work, and- and if it did, Yuca wouldn't have to kill anyone else. He wouldn't have to plot humankind's downfall, he wouldn't have to watch Rain's soul be corrupted by time. He wouldn't dream anymore.
He was running without strictly realizing it, the cool night air whipping his hair against his cheeks. Barefoot- he'd forgotten to put on shoes.
And if it didn't work... then there would be consequences, he knew that. He wasn't an idiot. He'd probably lose everything he'd worked so hard to gain- Al's tentative trust, Zuko's tentative friendship of sorts, Break's tentative forgiveness.
Rain.
But he could get it back. If he worked harder, smiled more, cried in front of them a few times- he could. And he would regret not trying, he knew he would.
Rain.
He'd be safe. And... well- Yuca never needed Rain to like him. He enjoyed it, he liked building things and drawing pictures and writing stories and reading the bible with him, but he never needed that. The only thing Yuca would ever need from Rain was for him to live. Anything else was just an accessory.
His feet were starting to hurt- why had he forgotten his shoes? Yuca swallowed hard and realized how much he'd taxed his body in the past few minutes. Pausing, just for a second, he leaned over and caught his breath in big, shaking gasps.
-the wars. Fires, burning, sharp blades, reflecting the light of the sun, wooden stakes and thick, cutting ropes. Sobbing faces, floating bodies, the tiny trickle of blood, white flowers, gentle lullabies, screeching yells, the noonday sun. Crows, picking at carrion, cawing dangerously, horns bellowing out the sound of victory, arrows piercing flimsy leather armor, pain, pain, pain, darkness, and light again. Chafed knees from praying, bowing, forehead to the floor, crucifixes, books and men with candles and fire, spreading, burning, skin, bound by ropes, tied to stakes, screaming, screaming, more pain, more darkness, and garish light of the noonday sun once again.
Yuca let out a small scream and fisted a hand in his hair, shaking his head violently. Not now. Not now. It was just a memory, just another gaggle of memories forced back through his head the instant his eyes closed.
He started running again before he could give himself time to think about it. Kurotsuchi's house was a ways away and finally, finally, when he got there, all he could do was knock once, before leaning up against the cool wood, hot and out of breath and desperate, so desperate to die.
When: Shortly after this
Where: Kurotsuchi's lab
Rating: PG-15 for... possible gorybits and... well, it's them. Also, I'm apparently writing novels.
Summary: After another night of dreaming, Yuca gets a little too desperate and goes to Kurotsuchi to slice off pieces of his soul. You know. Into pieces. Repeatedly. How the hell he thinks this is going to work is anyone's guess.
Tell him I'm sick. Bad. Contagious. Tell Break- keep me away from him until you know I'm not dangerous.
Yuca cut the feed. He knew that Alphonse would come to get Rain, regardless of whether or not he liked it. He knew that Al would never leave Rain alone when Yuca wasn't there to protect him.
And... he knew that Alphonse would protect him in his own right. From Yuca himself, if he had to.
That was good. He needed that. He needed Break to help, with his swordsmanship, he knew they'd rope Zuko into it somehow. If this turned out badly, he knew that the three of them were powerful, the three of them wouldn't allow him to hurt Rain, no matter what. That's all he cared about. That's the only thing he needed to ensure before he left.
The door opened in a whisper- Alphonse said he could be here in ten minutes. Yuca needed to be gone in less than that; he didn't want a confrontation.
Why was he doing this? He'd be asked that later. He was already being asked that. And there was an answer, a remarkably simple answer: Yuca was desperate. He'd always been desperate like this, after he woke up- frantic, running, feet pounding, thoughts racing, heart beating, sobbing, suddenly hit with how painful it's all been, brutally attacked with memories that he'd spent years repressing. Reminded of how much he can't stand living, and driven to near-insanity with the sheer overwhelming force of his entire, long life.
He'd managed to keep it at bay for awhile now- thanks to Rhode, keeping his memories from him when he slept. But she wasn't here anymore, and the first time he'd passed out without her here was going to be the last- after that, Yuca wanted to ensure that nothing like that would ever happen again.
And this was the solution. Even if it wasn't the solution, it was the closest he could get, for now. It was a chance, and incredibly small chance, but it might work. It might work, and- and if it did, Yuca wouldn't have to kill anyone else. He wouldn't have to plot humankind's downfall, he wouldn't have to watch Rain's soul be corrupted by time. He wouldn't dream anymore.
He was running without strictly realizing it, the cool night air whipping his hair against his cheeks. Barefoot- he'd forgotten to put on shoes.
And if it didn't work... then there would be consequences, he knew that. He wasn't an idiot. He'd probably lose everything he'd worked so hard to gain- Al's tentative trust, Zuko's tentative friendship of sorts, Break's tentative forgiveness.
Rain.
But he could get it back. If he worked harder, smiled more, cried in front of them a few times- he could. And he would regret not trying, he knew he would.
Rain.
He'd be safe. And... well- Yuca never needed Rain to like him. He enjoyed it, he liked building things and drawing pictures and writing stories and reading the bible with him, but he never needed that. The only thing Yuca would ever need from Rain was for him to live. Anything else was just an accessory.
His feet were starting to hurt- why had he forgotten his shoes? Yuca swallowed hard and realized how much he'd taxed his body in the past few minutes. Pausing, just for a second, he leaned over and caught his breath in big, shaking gasps.
-the wars. Fires, burning, sharp blades, reflecting the light of the sun, wooden stakes and thick, cutting ropes. Sobbing faces, floating bodies, the tiny trickle of blood, white flowers, gentle lullabies, screeching yells, the noonday sun. Crows, picking at carrion, cawing dangerously, horns bellowing out the sound of victory, arrows piercing flimsy leather armor, pain, pain, pain, darkness, and light again. Chafed knees from praying, bowing, forehead to the floor, crucifixes, books and men with candles and fire, spreading, burning, skin, bound by ropes, tied to stakes, screaming, screaming, more pain, more darkness, and garish light of the noonday sun once again.
Yuca let out a small scream and fisted a hand in his hair, shaking his head violently. Not now. Not now. It was just a memory, just another gaggle of memories forced back through his head the instant his eyes closed.
He started running again before he could give himself time to think about it. Kurotsuchi's house was a ways away and finally, finally, when he got there, all he could do was knock once, before leaning up against the cool wood, hot and out of breath and desperate, so desperate to die.