A story high above the low, recorded by few, disputed by later.

Aug 11, 2011 04:00

WHO: EDWARD NYGMA and POSSIBLY YOU.
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: August 8th - August 14th.
WARNINGS: Sweep you all up on a corner and pay for my bread.
SUMMARY: You know that I cannot believe my own truth.
FORMAT: To show what a truth, it's got nothing to lose.

A thing is not necessarily true because a man dies for it. )

selina kyle | catwoman, † sirius black | padfoot, norman osborn | the green goblin, peter parker | spider-man, jack bauer | man of the hour, john morley | ghost, katurian katurian | the pillowman, boyd langton | rossum, ruka | gallitrap, edward nygma | riddler, *open

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afeatherpillow August 11 2011, 18:05:02 UTC
The last month had broken something inside Katurian. Small cuts and tears grew inside of him, flourished, built. It happened the day he returned to the City, bruised and scraped, whittling out memories that no one close to him seemed to remember. It happened the moment he realized he had been tortured and abused, and then the moment DeConnick told him I hope you're not squeamish. It happened when he met Fugue, when his idyllic home (the most comfortable place he had been in months, years maybe) was torn apart by anonymous bones and flesh. It happened when the woman he didn't really love who had given him trust he didn't really deserve died against him ( ... )

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afeatherpillow August 12 2011, 23:15:51 UTC
Normally he would argue (he had self preservation, he wasn't fractured - was he?), but with Edward smearing his blood all over the walls, the words shot out of him like a plea, like they were the only thing that could make him stop.

"Someone close to me died there." His voice was wound tight in the back of his throat, but he didn't cry. He watched the bloodstained wall instead of Edward. ENDING. "And she wasn't an import, so, no, she's not coming back. And then I did take someone's head off."

His gaze shot back to Edward. Waiting to see how he'd respond. His hands, locked at his sides, were trembling.

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enigmaestro August 12 2011, 23:29:43 UTC
He pursed his lips, examining his work. This riddle, he wanted attention drawn to, this one. The paradoxical cognitive dissonance that swarmed his mind demanded it. But even amid the silent fire in his mind, his awareness was on the man next to him.

"You were in cahoots with a member of MAJESTY," he spoke plainly, without looking back at Katurian. "She died there, you said. None of your darling little fellow rebels would have allowed for a powerless native to join your crusade. So she was there, with you, motivated by betrayal or frustration or perhaps even idealism, and then she died." A pause. "And then you killed the man responsible."

He glanced over, finally, and in a neutral tone replied:

"Well done."

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afeatherpillow August 12 2011, 23:53:17 UTC
"I don't know if he was the man responsible." He had tried to replay the scene, to remember if he saw any forms down in the snow before Sylph was shot. But there was nothing. And if there was, wouldn't it have been more helpful to know then? Before? "He could have been a scout."

The rest of the scene came easily. The crunch in the snow. Stray feathers.

The wheezing sound the man made while Katurian beat him with his gun.

"I--" He swallowed. "--didn't need to kill him. I had him unconscious, and we were taking prisoners."

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enigmaestro August 13 2011, 00:28:00 UTC
"Hold," Eddie raised a bloody palm to Katurian. "Hold a moment, you don't even know if he was her killer? You don't even know if you distributed revenge correctly?"

He was somewhere between appalled and amused.

"Someone needed to die. But if you're going to kill, for God's sake, kill with meaning."

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afeatherpillow August 13 2011, 02:35:17 UTC
He finally broke a hand from his side and ran his fingers through his bangs. It was a nervous habit Edward would probably recognize, but this time, he did something different. This time, he ran his fingers over his head and felt the back.

"I know," he said flat. He remembered burying his parents by the wishing well, because that seemed apt. But he also remembered how he felt when he killed them. The lack of hesitation. The dissociation. He was outside his body, he was a beast, he was a perfect monster. "I couldn't stop myself."

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enigmaestro August 13 2011, 02:42:39 UTC
Eddie stared at him, hard. He watched the subtle changes, the smooth movement over the twitches that he was so used to seeing on Katurian's body. The focus, the awareness. He watched the twinges of defeat and something, something far more enduring than anything Katurian had yet to express. Something beyond body.

"You killed a potentially innocent man, one who may not have had any direct connection to your friend's death. He was a man with a family and obligation and desires, and yet you killed him without second thought because you wanted to avenge her somehow." Eddie ended the note with a snarl. The silence radiated between them.

And then he shrugged.

"Well. I forgive you."

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afeatherpillow August 13 2011, 03:43:15 UTC
He was thankful for the gray morality, for the bends he knew Edward would allow. It was why he went to him first, why he had hidden the truth from Andy and even Vic. Vic had been there with him, had seen how viciously the soldiers in Greenland were trying to kill them. And while self-defense was an easy excuse, while it made sense, it wasn't quite honest. It wasn't quite right.

"Well," he said, shrugging with his hand still on his head, then letting go. The nonchalance was, to a degree, feigned. His shoulders were stiff. "To be fair, he would've done the same to me."

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enigmaestro August 13 2011, 03:49:50 UTC
"Probably not. You were a live specimen, correct? That's why you had been kidnapped in the first place. You probably would have been identified, captured, and contained for the remainder of your duration in this world," Eddie replied in a chillingly disaffected tone. "Or rather, until you figured out a way to commit suicide."

He walked over to his bed, and collapsed over it. Red stained where his hands fell.

"Do you see what I'm saying, Katurian? Imagine all the lives you saved, because you prevented yet another person from obtaining your powers."

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afeatherpillow August 13 2011, 04:13:07 UTC
Edward's words sent a chill down his spine, as much as he recognized the reality of it. Because he recognized the reality of it. It was a thought he tried, desperately, not to dwell on. Nothing stopped them from taking him again. Even here. Even in the hospital.

He approached the bed and offered Edward the plastic bag, finally. He figured he might as well give it over before his hands got too sweaty. Then, of course, he remembered the blood on Edward's, and elected to place it down on the covers instead.

"Anyway, that's why I'm so moody. Like you said."

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enigmaestro August 13 2011, 04:28:19 UTC
"Did you know I don't get my own independent shower, here?" Eddie glanced upwards, seemingly unaware of the plastic bag filled with puzzles. "I have to share the space. With crazy people. It's just terrible, Katurian, it really is."

He swung one leg over the other, offering his company a seat next to him.

"Not like there's plenty of places to sit." He didn't know how often he had repeated that sentence, to his visitors. Each time seemed fresh to him. "But yes, your moodiness. Losing someone significant is never fun, is it? But now, at least, you can learn from the experience. Don't fraternize with the natives." Eddie lifted his chin slightly, exhaling. "They die."

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ohoho afeatherpillow August 13 2011, 05:01:14 UTC
Katurian knew (of course he knew, what was Edward thinking?) and so he tried to ignore the rambling about the showers, chalking it up to nerves or routine or, given the environment, mental illness. But Katurian was a patient man and didn't interrupt or grimace or fight. He took the seat on the bed, privately pleased that Edward actually let him sit down. Next to him.

It was only when Edward mentioned 'fraternizing' that his mood flickered. He shot a brief, cool look at him before softening somewhat, turning away and resting his elbows on his thighs. "Imports go away."

Nigel, Cameron, Death, Mary, Alex, Billy. The names were endless, and even though he kept them in his apartment on note cards, he still couldn't call them all up on a moment's notice. Still, it was only half-mourning. The people he lost continued on somewhere, and none of their disappearances felt like the punch of having someone die in his arms. Sylph was not the first person (or native) he lost that way, and it still ruined him.

"Anyway, I don't mind being the one ( ... )

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B) enigmaestro August 13 2011, 13:57:20 UTC
"Caring? When that means personally investing in such a manner that you stand to suffer personal loss? Surely you see the self-defeating measures inherent. Surely you see that -- " Eddie glanced over. And froze. The throbbing florescents above reflected off wetness easily. Eddie covered his eyes with the backs of his hands, shielding his sight from any bodily fluid -- blood and tears and otherwise.

"Oh my God."

He tried to pretend he hadn't seen that. But the vulnerability was impossible to avoid entirely.

"Don't do that."

It escaped before he could censor himself.

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afeatherpillow August 13 2011, 17:27:06 UTC
"I know," he said. It wasn't the sort of cry that racked his body, that left him unable to speak without more tears. It didn't catch his words and tangle them in his throat. It was a silent, almost ignorable thing. A sprinkle of fluid in his eyes. A yawn. A sneeze.

He wiped at his eyes again, the sleeve of his shirt rough against his skin.

"I'm sorry."

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enigmaestro August 13 2011, 17:34:04 UTC
And yet, enough unintended emotion to leave Eddie uncomfortable. He stared at the ceiling, making faces, as he allowed Katurian the dignity of silence for a few more moments.

It was a great mercy, coming from Edward.

"My point is," he said, finally. "You've got to be careful with that sort of idea. And yes, I'm aware that you already know this -- which makes it even more perplexing, running into the same painful pattern again and again. You have a desire to redeem yourself. Okay. We get it. But doesn't it make more sense to do as much good as you can, with minimal damage to your own psyche? How can you continue to give the same quality of service if every venture leaves you psychologically crippled?" He glanced back at Katurian, keeping a steady look before his eyes wandered to the plastic bag.

"You should care for people who pose a low probability of disappointing you."

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afeatherpillow August 14 2011, 02:50:58 UTC
It was an impossibility. Katurian should have expected it to be an impossibility. After all, this was his salvation they were talking about, and his salvation was always just out of reach. He was more of a hermit before he arrived in the City, and perhaps that spared him from lost friendships and unexpected deaths, perhaps that made it easier for him, but then he lost Michal and none of that mattered. The only way to solve this, he figured, was to cut himself off completely. No friends. No trust. And then he would only be alone with his grief.

He didn't know if he could stand that. He nodded anyway.

Then he saw Eddie watching the plastic bag. He tugged at it from his place on the bed, pulling it back far enough to reveal the edge of the cover.

"They're puzzles. Word games and-- and so on. I don't think you need to pen to do them, but maybe it helps. Just to see the answers written out."

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