(Untitled)

[pillowmania]

WHO: Katurian Katurian [from the beautiful year of 2020] and Edward Nygma [from the beautiful present]
WHERE: A bar
WHEN: September 20th
WARNINGS: None?
SUMMARY: The beginning.
FORMAT: Paragraph.

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[enigmaestro]

The water hit his face, needling the nerves with a clarifying coldness. The exhale that followed shuddered out, taking captive sprays of droplets against the mirror before him. It was September 2011, and Edward Nygma was once more a free man. His ungloved hands clenched the sides of a recently wiped porcelain sink as he leveled himself, staring at his own reflection. He was alone in the bar's restroom, unrested. Clinging to the sink. Drowning. He was alone except for his mind, that demanding unending brilliant machine, searing exhaustive connections into unheard neurons. He was alone but he was never alone in his thoughts

[pillowmania]

In Katurian's world, everything had already happened. Edward had already knocked all that water into his face. He had already left the bathroom, even, already gone out to buy more drinks. The night had already fizzled into day. Weeks and months and years had expanded from that moment like an accordion. If Katurian thought about it like a narrative ('I don't think about narratives, I can't do that anymore,' he mouths, dragging his hands through his hair, thinking about it), the past would be written in past tense. It was as though he were stepping onto a screen. A script.

He was off-script. The thought pounded at him. He was off-script.

There was no special sound to indicate his arrival. There was no pleasant clink or gust of wind. There was only silence and then the almost undetectable sound of air moving through his lungs. His organs processing energy. The sound of his existence

[enigmaestro]

Eddie felt the presence, before he met that reflection. He stared, noiselessly, as adrenaline flooded his brain. Water dripped from his nose, his lips. Unspoken movement

[pillowmania]

Katurian's laugh sounded like an animatronic slowed down. Boom boom boom. His chest caught Edward's hit, but he still laughed. Boom boom boom. The sound that left his lips was so perfectly inhuman that he could wrap himself in it forever, taking solace in that distorted echo. In the past, Katurian was more than human. He wasn't afraid of the bullet in Edward's gun. He wasn't afraid of death at all.

He raised his hands, palms open and inviting. Safe. Harmless.

"Oh, Edward," he crooned. Boomed. "You know just who I am."

He could read it in his eyes. Oh, he could read everything in Edward's eyes now, every falter, every weakness and twitch. He missed this. The defiance. He wanted to start all over again, pealing the other man open like an onion. He had a map. He already knew which cuts to make.