Rindo Kanade | 奏 竜胆 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
worldisyours) wrote2023-03-13 07:06 pm
worldisyours) wrote2023-03-13 07:06 pm
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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, RINDO KANADE. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 4.28.13.9 *** rindragon has joined 4.28.13.9 | ||||
[So what if he didn't choose it? What matters is the outcome—if he walks away, bad things happen.
But—thinking of Lillie—Gladion holds his tongue, peering cautiously down his face at Rindo. What he hears doesn't surprise him. It's like what he's heard from Lillie before. And he winces after Rindo looks away, because that would have been his retort, and he doesn't have one past it.
He can't leave things as they are.
But: it's way too much.
When has it ever not been? Isn't that just how you grow? It's not ideal, but if you don't have ideal, you have to work with good enough. It's not ever going to stop being like that. Things don't end neatly in real life. Rindo knows that; it's why he says I get it, I know, I'm not saying don't do anything.
...You know?]
...It does. [He's looking elsewhere. Up at the ceiling, head still tipped back against the wall, tension rotted away. This last point is also not a surprise—just a grim, embarrassing reality he was willing to trade away until Rindo said it out loud. Maybe his mother could hurt someone. And maybe there's nothing exceptional about that, here in Ryslig. So maybe this isn't the big deal he thought it was, and maybe he didn't need to induct Rindo into it, and maybe, this is in fact just dragging—
—asking for help.
Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.]
It makes sense. [He sounds weary.] You're probably right.
But—thinking of Lillie—Gladion holds his tongue, peering cautiously down his face at Rindo. What he hears doesn't surprise him. It's like what he's heard from Lillie before. And he winces after Rindo looks away, because that would have been his retort, and he doesn't have one past it.
He can't leave things as they are.
But: it's way too much.
When has it ever not been? Isn't that just how you grow? It's not ideal, but if you don't have ideal, you have to work with good enough. It's not ever going to stop being like that. Things don't end neatly in real life. Rindo knows that; it's why he says I get it, I know, I'm not saying don't do anything.
...You know?]
...It does. [He's looking elsewhere. Up at the ceiling, head still tipped back against the wall, tension rotted away. This last point is also not a surprise—just a grim, embarrassing reality he was willing to trade away until Rindo said it out loud. Maybe his mother could hurt someone. And maybe there's nothing exceptional about that, here in Ryslig. So maybe this isn't the big deal he thought it was, and maybe he didn't need to induct Rindo into it, and maybe, this is in fact just dragging—
—asking for help.
Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.]
It makes sense. [He sounds weary.] You're probably right.
[Shoyo sounds sure enough of his words, even in spite of the pause.
So… Sunny wouldn't. And Rindo can't picture Basil wanting to hurt anyone either. He wishes he could say that's enough to completely assuage his fears, but he's pretty sure worry has never left him ever since the day he woke up in that sewer, so this'll have to do.
Rindo sighs.]
…No. It's just…
[The temptation is strong to change the topic, here. What stops him is the sense that Shoyo deserves better than evasiveness when Rindo's the one who brought up the topic in the first place.]
A while back, I found someone from my world here, and brought her to the house to meet her friend. But it… it went badly, because I had no idea that another one of my housemates hated her guts.
[The admission is heavy with regret, and reading self-loathing into it would not be a stretch.]
I didn't want to make the same mistake again.
So… Sunny wouldn't. And Rindo can't picture Basil wanting to hurt anyone either. He wishes he could say that's enough to completely assuage his fears, but he's pretty sure worry has never left him ever since the day he woke up in that sewer, so this'll have to do.
Rindo sighs.]
…No. It's just…
[The temptation is strong to change the topic, here. What stops him is the sense that Shoyo deserves better than evasiveness when Rindo's the one who brought up the topic in the first place.]
A while back, I found someone from my world here, and brought her to the house to meet her friend. But it… it went badly, because I had no idea that another one of my housemates hated her guts.
[The admission is heavy with regret, and reading self-loathing into it would not be a stretch.]
I didn't want to make the same mistake again.
[ “oh”, is shoyo’s inicial reaction, but his shoulders squeeze up tight around his neck when he sees similarities . . . not that one hated the other, he’s pretty sure that’s not the case, but. damn if it were. shoyo would be in trouble. ]
They don’t hate each other . . . I think.
[ he thinks. it’s something else. he just doesn’t know. what comes now is a reluctant silence, even as their medium sized pizza is served right in front of them. the waitress adds some extra sets of monster fries on the side for good measure, luck and peace. shoyo can’t keep quiet for long, anyway, and even in sight of his belated birthday pizza, he doesn’t feel like digging in. at least not immediately. ]
I invited them both to the amusement park for my birthday, and . . . I didn’t know they knew each other.
They don’t hate each other . . . I think.
[ he thinks. it’s something else. he just doesn’t know. what comes now is a reluctant silence, even as their medium sized pizza is served right in front of them. the waitress adds some extra sets of monster fries on the side for good measure, luck and peace. shoyo can’t keep quiet for long, anyway, and even in sight of his belated birthday pizza, he doesn’t feel like digging in. at least not immediately. ]
I invited them both to the amusement park for my birthday, and . . . I didn’t know they knew each other.
[…Even with common ground, it's still hard to talk about killing people, especially with the implied fact that the burden of it falls onto others' shoulders.]
…Yeah. We don't do the hardest part.
[Rindo speaks tentatively, with his gaze still lowered, his words in the shape of a question. He doesn't actually know… he just assumes. It only makes sense, with Gladion living with two hunters.]
…Yeah. We don't do the hardest part.
[Rindo speaks tentatively, with his gaze still lowered, his words in the shape of a question. He doesn't actually know… he just assumes. It only makes sense, with Gladion living with two hunters.]
Who knows? Maybe she's just naturally drawn to loser aura.
[Or he was just one of the first to be patient enough with her—but that's a little too sweet for Shoka to say to his face. Much easier to teasingly imply that he was just so sad-looking already that the cat didn't need to knock him down a peg or two.
When he brings up her hoodie, Shoka smiles, too, and lifts a hand to fiddle with one of the hood's ears.]
Maybe. [Definitely.] It's the first thing I bought in Shibuya, actually... It sort of just spoke to me, y'know?
[She gets a sense of déjà vu, talking about this with him again, but it isn't at all unpleasant.]
[Or he was just one of the first to be patient enough with her—but that's a little too sweet for Shoka to say to his face. Much easier to teasingly imply that he was just so sad-looking already that the cat didn't need to knock him down a peg or two.
When he brings up her hoodie, Shoka smiles, too, and lifts a hand to fiddle with one of the hood's ears.]
Maybe. [Definitely.] It's the first thing I bought in Shibuya, actually... It sort of just spoke to me, y'know?
[She gets a sense of déjà vu, talking about this with him again, but it isn't at all unpleasant.]
Hey.
[Just as quiet right back. He's tired. (Emotionally, not physically.) Coming back up from half-consciousness, reattaching meaning to memories, feelings to actions. There's no room for horror when he's been perfectly aware of what he's doing, and is only just remembering now that it's unusual. It's the kind of resignation with which you remember you left your laundry in the dryer three hours ago.
...It was good. He feels nourished.]
Thanks for taking care of things.
[Tired, tired, tired.]
[Just as quiet right back. He's tired. (Emotionally, not physically.) Coming back up from half-consciousness, reattaching meaning to memories, feelings to actions. There's no room for horror when he's been perfectly aware of what he's doing, and is only just remembering now that it's unusual. It's the kind of resignation with which you remember you left your laundry in the dryer three hours ago.
...It was good. He feels nourished.]
Thanks for taking care of things.
[Tired, tired, tired.]
[Maybe it should feel good to hear that—to have repaid Gladion. It doesn't, not really. At best it makes Rindo feel… less bad.]
…Had to repay the favor.
[…]
…Let me know when you're good to go back. There's… a lot I need to catch you up on.
…Had to repay the favor.
[…]
…Let me know when you're good to go back. There's… a lot I need to catch you up on.
[Tired. Resigned. As if he's come through the other side of revulsion already, so completely transformed in body and mind that there's just no point resisting anymore. And that's disgusting. But it's true. And to survive as a monster, you have to face reality.]
I'm... [Ugh. He's a mess, isn't he? When he looks himself over to check, he barely knows what he's looking at. Feet? Hands? His weight is all wrong; he's not even sure what shape his head is, just that his field of vision is strangely broad. Gladion squints down at his hands and slowly, clumsily withdraws from the soil.] I don't need to hang around. You weren't...?
[Hungry. He just figures, since they're here, Rindo might have wanted to get himself set. Or maybe he already did? Or, on second thought, maybe they're offset because of Gladion's absence. That would make sense. He closes his eyes and gives his head a little clearing shake.]
I'm... [Ugh. He's a mess, isn't he? When he looks himself over to check, he barely knows what he's looking at. Feet? Hands? His weight is all wrong; he's not even sure what shape his head is, just that his field of vision is strangely broad. Gladion squints down at his hands and slowly, clumsily withdraws from the soil.] I don't need to hang around. You weren't...?
[Hungry. He just figures, since they're here, Rindo might have wanted to get himself set. Or maybe he already did? Or, on second thought, maybe they're offset because of Gladion's absence. That would make sense. He closes his eyes and gives his head a little clearing shake.]
[It's funny. Gladion's been in this form for a month, but Rindo, who's only even been aware of it for days, is more used to it than he is. Had plenty of time to stare at it while Gladion was attending to his needs. It kind of reminds him of a travel form, but… Who gets stuck in a travel form? Not that he would know how those actually work…
…Anyway.]
I'm good. I took care of it a few days ago.
[Truth be told, he had considered feeding again to top himself off after all his plant control practice, but… Without hunger or adrenaline to get him through the setup process for himself, he'd ended up giving up.]
Can you walk?
[He's peering at Gladion's small roots now, extracted from the soil. No longer having feet to stand on… Rindo's quite familiar with that particular issue.]
…Anyway.]
I'm good. I took care of it a few days ago.
[Truth be told, he had considered feeding again to top himself off after all his plant control practice, but… Without hunger or adrenaline to get him through the setup process for himself, he'd ended up giving up.]
Can you walk?
[He's peering at Gladion's small roots now, extracted from the soil. No longer having feet to stand on… Rindo's quite familiar with that particular issue.]
I can walk. [Easy answer. He has. Just...] Not well, but.
[Well enough. He just lifts his arms, leans a little, and...it's a little wobbly, and not fast, but he can walk. And his plant sense is keener than ever, pointing the way to the exit.
On the way there—he looks up at Rindo. And he has to crane his neck back to look up that far. The blank surprise, the confusion over how different the space between them is, is bright on even his new, alien face.]
[Well enough. He just lifts his arms, leans a little, and...it's a little wobbly, and not fast, but he can walk. And his plant sense is keener than ever, pointing the way to the exit.
On the way there—he looks up at Rindo. And he has to crane his neck back to look up that far. The blank surprise, the confusion over how different the space between them is, is bright on even his new, alien face.]
[Rindo walks slowly alongside, watching Gladion's movements with obvious, sympathetic concern. He does at least seem fine to move, but that look he gives him is… Well. This has to be horribly disorienting. Maybe a higher vantage point would help…?]
Um… Didn't wanna just pick you up without asking, but you can ride on my shoulder if you want. I don't mind.
[He stops to meet Gladion's gaze as he speaks. Everything about this is weird, but what else is new? At least Gladion's back now—that's Rindo's primary concern. Call it a habit or an assumption from his time living with Swallow and her housemates, but form changes always did strike him as temporary. It's not like he has faith in it—certainly not enough to make any hollow unprompted attempts at reassuring Gladion that he'll go back to normal soon enough—it's just that, whatever the hell may be going on in this particular instance, the alternative is hard to imagine.]
Um… Didn't wanna just pick you up without asking, but you can ride on my shoulder if you want. I don't mind.
[He stops to meet Gladion's gaze as he speaks. Everything about this is weird, but what else is new? At least Gladion's back now—that's Rindo's primary concern. Call it a habit or an assumption from his time living with Swallow and her housemates, but form changes always did strike him as temporary. It's not like he has faith in it—certainly not enough to make any hollow unprompted attempts at reassuring Gladion that he'll go back to normal soon enough—it's just that, whatever the hell may be going on in this particular instance, the alternative is hard to imagine.]
[Ride on his—?
Like some kid's Fomantis or something. He can't be that small, though.]
I don't even know how heavy I am, [he snorts, mildly taken aback—but only mildly, because he crouches as if to jump up. It's a false start. Like he said, he has no clue how heavy he is, even if he thought he could jump that high on these weird little legs. So instead, he reaches up with a hand, trusting that Rindo will test his weight and perhaps get him up there in some semi-reasonable fashion.]
Like some kid's Fomantis or something. He can't be that small, though.]
I don't even know how heavy I am, [he snorts, mildly taken aback—but only mildly, because he crouches as if to jump up. It's a false start. Like he said, he has no clue how heavy he is, even if he thought he could jump that high on these weird little legs. So instead, he reaches up with a hand, trusting that Rindo will test his weight and perhaps get him up there in some semi-reasonable fashion.]
Really light, actually.
[Does Gladion not remember Rindo picking him up earlier? He wouldn't be surprised, given how weak he was.]
Also… monster strength, remember?
[Anyway. Rindo bends forward and reaches for Gladion's hand at first, hesitates for a moment, and goes for grabbing him under both arms instead. He lifts him up then brings him to his right shoulder, setting him down, leaving his left hand near Gladion's chest until Gladion finds his balance at least. Everything good up here?
…Hm. Maybe he can make this more comfortable? He uses plant control on the long leaf that covers his shoulder, willing it to tense up. A little leafy seat, or a perch, perhaps. Surprise! Rindo can do this now.]
[Does Gladion not remember Rindo picking him up earlier? He wouldn't be surprised, given how weak he was.]
Also… monster strength, remember?
[Anyway. Rindo bends forward and reaches for Gladion's hand at first, hesitates for a moment, and goes for grabbing him under both arms instead. He lifts him up then brings him to his right shoulder, setting him down, leaving his left hand near Gladion's chest until Gladion finds his balance at least. Everything good up here?
…Hm. Maybe he can make this more comfortable? He uses plant control on the long leaf that covers his shoulder, willing it to tense up. A little leafy seat, or a perch, perhaps. Surprise! Rindo can do this now.]
[Mainly I forgot but also he forgot. Everything was such a blur.]
Doesn't necessarily mean it's— [upsie daisie.] —mean it's comfortable to do. [It's a weak protest. He's not going to seriously accuse Rindo of being that uncaring. It does help him not think about what it must look like to be picked up under the arms like this, though. He can imagine it as if he were a Pokemon, it's not that absurd, but it's just...strange to think that that's what he looks like.
Even as he settles down up here. His tail loops down around Rindo's side; it and his feet are very grippy, without applying much pressure.
The both of them are just a regular pair of oddities now, aren't they.]
Between me and Silvally, you could pass for our trainer. As long as I kept quiet.
[His other thought was I feel like some kind of toy and being like a Pokemon is a way way way way way better thought.]
Doesn't necessarily mean it's— [upsie daisie.] —mean it's comfortable to do. [It's a weak protest. He's not going to seriously accuse Rindo of being that uncaring. It does help him not think about what it must look like to be picked up under the arms like this, though. He can imagine it as if he were a Pokemon, it's not that absurd, but it's just...strange to think that that's what he looks like.
Even as he settles down up here. His tail loops down around Rindo's side; it and his feet are very grippy, without applying much pressure.
The both of them are just a regular pair of oddities now, aren't they.]
Between me and Silvally, you could pass for our trainer. As long as I kept quiet.
[His other thought was I feel like some kind of toy and being like a Pokemon is a way way way way way better thought.]
[The Nymph part of Rindo's brain is quite content with Gladion's roots wrapping themselves around him, for some reason. Nice and stable, not going anywhere… No, maybe it's the human part, actually.]
I don't mind it at all.
[Sure, let's go with that. He actually sounds a little pleased. It's really good to be able to talk again like this—a balm to Rindo's heart. He lets out a little laugh at Gladion's analogy.]
Big responsibility. Kinda doubt I'd be up to the task if it was for real.
[He shoots Gladion a sideway glance as they pass through the bramble ring. He closes it back up without even sparing it a look. The sooner they leave, the better. All the tools are already gathered near Silvally—he'd had plenty of time for it.]
…You do kinda look like a Pokémon.
[He guesses, at least. He's only seen three, but it's enough to get a sense of what looks Pokémon-like. Maybe. And he had thought this from the start, but he figures saying it out loud would please Gladion, with how much respect he has for Pokémon.]
I don't mind it at all.
[Sure, let's go with that. He actually sounds a little pleased. It's really good to be able to talk again like this—a balm to Rindo's heart. He lets out a little laugh at Gladion's analogy.]
Big responsibility. Kinda doubt I'd be up to the task if it was for real.
[He shoots Gladion a sideway glance as they pass through the bramble ring. He closes it back up without even sparing it a look. The sooner they leave, the better. All the tools are already gathered near Silvally—he'd had plenty of time for it.]
…You do kinda look like a Pokémon.
[He guesses, at least. He's only seen three, but it's enough to get a sense of what looks Pokémon-like. Maybe. And he had thought this from the start, but he figures saying it out loud would please Gladion, with how much respect he has for Pokémon.]
[Suddenly, now that he's on the other side of… saying what he meant to say, Rindo finds himself sharing Gladion's obvious frustration.
Now what? This is all well and good, but regardless of Gladion's agreement, this is still clearly bothering him—not that Rindo was expecting anything less. Frankly, he's not sure that his words have truly sunk in, but who knows how long Gladion's been feeling the way he does. He wasn't expecting to upend his entire worldview with just a short little speech. Rindo stays silent for a good while, frowning at nothing in particular as he thinks.
…There's a lot of people here who have little scruple about hurting others, or who simply don't care how their actions might affect everyone. Rindo's not been here for long, but he knows that, for instance, the weird fog in March had been caused by one of the monsters of Ryslig, and that this sort of thing is a common occurrence. Gladion's description of Lusamine, the accuracy of which he has no reason to doubt, paints her as someone who would gleefully join these troublemaking ranks. And if she does, everyone gets screwed over.
But if it's not Lusamine getting up to no good, it'll be someone else, he's sure of it. He's already given up any hope of a peaceful life—monthly horrors for the rest of time. That, he can do nothing about. Giving a friend some support, though… maybe he can manage that. This is really what all this has been about from the start, for him.
…And so, it begs one question:
What had she done to Gladion?
At last, Rindo speaks up, quietly, his tone halfway between gentle and hesitant. Looking back at Gladion again—it's easier when their eyes don't meet.]
How did she treat you, back home?
[And, as if to dull the edge of that too-personal query:]
You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just… it sounds like she wasn't a great mom.
[He cringes slightly at his own wording there. Yeah, no shit. Perhaps in an attempt to distract Gladion from the blunder, he continues.]
It might help to talk about it. I… I know talking to Shoka about stuff helped me, back in our world, even if she didn't always have a solution to give.
[Frankly, it's insulting to even begin to compare the scale of his problems back home to that of Gladion's, but surely it's not complete garbage advice, generally speaking? He can only hope to match Swallow's level of comfort-giving. He knows he's not as good at it as she is.]
Now what? This is all well and good, but regardless of Gladion's agreement, this is still clearly bothering him—not that Rindo was expecting anything less. Frankly, he's not sure that his words have truly sunk in, but who knows how long Gladion's been feeling the way he does. He wasn't expecting to upend his entire worldview with just a short little speech. Rindo stays silent for a good while, frowning at nothing in particular as he thinks.
…There's a lot of people here who have little scruple about hurting others, or who simply don't care how their actions might affect everyone. Rindo's not been here for long, but he knows that, for instance, the weird fog in March had been caused by one of the monsters of Ryslig, and that this sort of thing is a common occurrence. Gladion's description of Lusamine, the accuracy of which he has no reason to doubt, paints her as someone who would gleefully join these troublemaking ranks. And if she does, everyone gets screwed over.
But if it's not Lusamine getting up to no good, it'll be someone else, he's sure of it. He's already given up any hope of a peaceful life—monthly horrors for the rest of time. That, he can do nothing about. Giving a friend some support, though… maybe he can manage that. This is really what all this has been about from the start, for him.
…And so, it begs one question:
What had she done to Gladion?
At last, Rindo speaks up, quietly, his tone halfway between gentle and hesitant. Looking back at Gladion again—it's easier when their eyes don't meet.]
How did she treat you, back home?
[And, as if to dull the edge of that too-personal query:]
You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I just… it sounds like she wasn't a great mom.
[He cringes slightly at his own wording there. Yeah, no shit. Perhaps in an attempt to distract Gladion from the blunder, he continues.]
It might help to talk about it. I… I know talking to Shoka about stuff helped me, back in our world, even if she didn't always have a solution to give.
[Frankly, it's insulting to even begin to compare the scale of his problems back home to that of Gladion's, but surely it's not complete garbage advice, generally speaking? He can only hope to match Swallow's level of comfort-giving. He knows he's not as good at it as she is.]
[He's gotten this question before, or something close enough to it. And he always deflects: she didn't do anything to me.
It's always been a conscious lie. What Gladion means is: that's not as important as the rest of it. And what he means by that is: none of your business. And on some level, he knows what he's doing, and knows it's not the best choice, and holds to it stubbornly because it feels wrong to change course anyways. He just can't. He won't. Unless he has to. Unless—unless you know the same things he knows, about how it's wrong and embarrassing but practical and correct, and you have to justify it and make up for it. Unless you can speak the same language of shame his own mind does.
Gladion huffs. It's a boneless laugh, but not an acidic one.] I know. [He knows what Rindo doesn't mean to imply, the same way Rindo knows what he doesn't mean to imply.] Yeah. I can try, I don't know how much sense it'll make. She always...
[...]
There was something wrong with her for years, but she mostly showed it in small ways. It's hard to explain.
[He's relaxed. It's a weird sort of relaxation, but he is relaxed. It is easier when their eyes don't meet.]
She treated us like dolls. Like...she was obsessed with appearances. [As he said.] And part of that was, she couldn't see us doing anything that wasn't her decision. Lillie and I—we didn't get exactly the same treatment, but that was pretty much the same between us. Sometimes she showed it in different ways. And she was sort of the same way with anyone else who reflected on her, and the Foundation as a whole. And the house. But, you know, rooms don't complain when you redecorate them. And employees go home at the end of the day. She couldn't go through their belongings, or tell them what to wear off the clock.
[The clothes. There's always this unique frustration attached to that whole thing. He knows how important it was. He knows how much it hurt Lillie. He knows how he reacted to it. But it always sounds more frivolous out loud than it does in his head.
Ugh.]
Also, she changed over time. She gradually got worse, but she'd also go back and forth. If she was distracted, or uninterested, she wouldn't pay as much attention. But then once she did notice something that wasn't right, she'd come back with a vengeance. So it was always kind of a balancing act, trying to catch a break when you could but not doing anything that would count against you later. Especially out of the house. Because most people on Aether Paradise didn't actually know how she was, so things would get back to her, and even if they were fine she'd still...
[Waves his hand a bit. That got away from him, actually, let's pivot.]
That was the thing, overall. She could just make up a reason to be frustrated. She could look at something she would have decided, but get mad about it because she hadn't been there to decide on it. So there was never really a foolproof way to keep her happy. Just going along with what she wanted from moment to moment.
It's always been a conscious lie. What Gladion means is: that's not as important as the rest of it. And what he means by that is: none of your business. And on some level, he knows what he's doing, and knows it's not the best choice, and holds to it stubbornly because it feels wrong to change course anyways. He just can't. He won't. Unless he has to. Unless—unless you know the same things he knows, about how it's wrong and embarrassing but practical and correct, and you have to justify it and make up for it. Unless you can speak the same language of shame his own mind does.
Gladion huffs. It's a boneless laugh, but not an acidic one.] I know. [He knows what Rindo doesn't mean to imply, the same way Rindo knows what he doesn't mean to imply.] Yeah. I can try, I don't know how much sense it'll make. She always...
[...]
There was something wrong with her for years, but she mostly showed it in small ways. It's hard to explain.
[He's relaxed. It's a weird sort of relaxation, but he is relaxed. It is easier when their eyes don't meet.]
She treated us like dolls. Like...she was obsessed with appearances. [As he said.] And part of that was, she couldn't see us doing anything that wasn't her decision. Lillie and I—we didn't get exactly the same treatment, but that was pretty much the same between us. Sometimes she showed it in different ways. And she was sort of the same way with anyone else who reflected on her, and the Foundation as a whole. And the house. But, you know, rooms don't complain when you redecorate them. And employees go home at the end of the day. She couldn't go through their belongings, or tell them what to wear off the clock.
[The clothes. There's always this unique frustration attached to that whole thing. He knows how important it was. He knows how much it hurt Lillie. He knows how he reacted to it. But it always sounds more frivolous out loud than it does in his head.
Ugh.]
Also, she changed over time. She gradually got worse, but she'd also go back and forth. If she was distracted, or uninterested, she wouldn't pay as much attention. But then once she did notice something that wasn't right, she'd come back with a vengeance. So it was always kind of a balancing act, trying to catch a break when you could but not doing anything that would count against you later. Especially out of the house. Because most people on Aether Paradise didn't actually know how she was, so things would get back to her, and even if they were fine she'd still...
[Waves his hand a bit. That got away from him, actually, let's pivot.]
That was the thing, overall. She could just make up a reason to be frustrated. She could look at something she would have decided, but get mad about it because she hadn't been there to decide on it. So there was never really a foolproof way to keep her happy. Just going along with what she wanted from moment to moment.
[Gladion scoffs at the idea of Rindo not being up to the task. There's a flaw in that reasoning! He'll point it out shortly. For now, Silvally is here, jumping to its feet to get right up in their faces and bonk Gladion with its nose.]
Oomph. [But his arms come right up and give its head a hug, no protest needed. (And no risk of falling off Rindo's shoulder. Grippy!)] Thanks, buddy. [His voice is colored with relief. Silvally is eep peep peeping, having had to contain its relief until Gladion was out of danger. It licks Rindo's temple, too, and plops its butt back down and leans against both of them.]
I need a mirror. What I can see doesn't look like any species I've ever seen, but still...sort of familiar. Somehow. [Scratching Silvally's ears, slightly squished against Rindo's head by the beaft's affection.] Which makes it something I can live with if I have to, I guess. It could be a lot worse.
[Although as he thinks through all the practical implications of being this size and shape every day...the cons are racking up fast.
God he's glad to be back though.]
Oomph. [But his arms come right up and give its head a hug, no protest needed. (And no risk of falling off Rindo's shoulder. Grippy!)] Thanks, buddy. [His voice is colored with relief. Silvally is eep peep peeping, having had to contain its relief until Gladion was out of danger. It licks Rindo's temple, too, and plops its butt back down and leans against both of them.]
I need a mirror. What I can see doesn't look like any species I've ever seen, but still...sort of familiar. Somehow. [Scratching Silvally's ears, slightly squished against Rindo's head by the beaft's affection.] Which makes it something I can live with if I have to, I guess. It could be a lot worse.
[Although as he thinks through all the practical implications of being this size and shape every day...the cons are racking up fast.
God he's glad to be back though.]
[No hair eating this time, huh? Rindo wraps an arm loosely around Silvally, welcoming its display of affection with a smile and returning it in kind by way of some well-deserved praise.]
Silvally did amazing. It was watching over you while you were in that pod. It warned me as soon as it noticed you were moving in there, then it took us to the patch way faster than I could have on my own. [Pat, pat.] When I had to go the other day, it went with me.
[Even if Rindo had been trying to hide his gratitude for that last part, he wouldn't have been able to. He owes Silvally and Gladion so, so much, and though his happiness isn't nearly as effusive as the Pokémon's, dulled as it is by Ryslig's constant blows, it's still evident in his expression. Frankly, he would hug Gladion, but with the size difference now it might feel more like trapping him, and he's not going to do that to him of all people. …The current arrangement is close enough anyway!
It sounds a bit like Gladion's trying to convince himself, there, but perhaps that's just Rindo's pessimistic streak speaking. Still, maybe that's the right attitude to have here. Just roll with the punches. What else can you do?
A mirror…]
We could stop by the stream for that.
Silvally did amazing. It was watching over you while you were in that pod. It warned me as soon as it noticed you were moving in there, then it took us to the patch way faster than I could have on my own. [Pat, pat.] When I had to go the other day, it went with me.
[Even if Rindo had been trying to hide his gratitude for that last part, he wouldn't have been able to. He owes Silvally and Gladion so, so much, and though his happiness isn't nearly as effusive as the Pokémon's, dulled as it is by Ryslig's constant blows, it's still evident in his expression. Frankly, he would hug Gladion, but with the size difference now it might feel more like trapping him, and he's not going to do that to him of all people. …The current arrangement is close enough anyway!
It sounds a bit like Gladion's trying to convince himself, there, but perhaps that's just Rindo's pessimistic streak speaking. Still, maybe that's the right attitude to have here. Just roll with the punches. What else can you do?
A mirror…]
We could stop by the stream for that.
[Rindo's not too worried about sense-making. Horrors tend to be hard to describe, words tumbling out before feelings can begin to make sense in your head. (…Memories of talking about changes.) If that's what it takes for Gladion to untangle the situation, he's happy to be the catalyst for it.
But as it turns out, Gladion makes complete sense, perhaps in the way only someone with some amount of perspective can when discussing these sorts of things. It's not a surprise, either. It's painfully obvious that he's thought about this… a lot. Probably too much. Who could blame him?
…
So. A volatile control freak, who lashed out when she didn't get her way. A lot of little things about Gladion are suddenly recontextualized. "My interests before were a bit limited by outside circumstances." The way he values his space and his autonomy, like something hard-earned. And yeah, the clothes. There's no way his mother would have cared for his current aesthetic. (…Aggressively pushing thoughts of Fret away. Fashion's always a fraught topic.)
It's hard to hear all this—though obviously not as hard as living it, of course. It fans an ember of furious indignation in his chest, for which he has no outlet. And there's a sharp pang of guilt at his comparatively much, much better home life. His parents never did anything like this to him. (…Sucking air in through his teeth, flinching as if he'd touched a hot stove, pushing all of that away too because now isn't the time.)
…Despite all of this, Gladion doesn't want to cut off his mother. Whether that's wise or foolish, done out of a sense of responsibility or homesickness or both—he couldn't say. And he's not about to weigh in with an outsider's opinion.]
Sounds like you went through hell.
[…That's safe enough. And it's not enough.]
…You didn't—you don't deserve to be treated like that. You and Lillie.
[Still not enough. Maybe Rindo's saying this for his own sake. Stating the plain, obvious truth, in some kind of attempt to make sense of a world where things like these are allowed to happen.
He stares at the ground in between them, his jaw set tight. Frustrated. He wants to help, but he can't fix things and anything he says feels inadequate. How does Swallow deal with him?]
But as it turns out, Gladion makes complete sense, perhaps in the way only someone with some amount of perspective can when discussing these sorts of things. It's not a surprise, either. It's painfully obvious that he's thought about this… a lot. Probably too much. Who could blame him?
…
So. A volatile control freak, who lashed out when she didn't get her way. A lot of little things about Gladion are suddenly recontextualized. "My interests before were a bit limited by outside circumstances." The way he values his space and his autonomy, like something hard-earned. And yeah, the clothes. There's no way his mother would have cared for his current aesthetic. (…Aggressively pushing thoughts of Fret away. Fashion's always a fraught topic.)
It's hard to hear all this—though obviously not as hard as living it, of course. It fans an ember of furious indignation in his chest, for which he has no outlet. And there's a sharp pang of guilt at his comparatively much, much better home life. His parents never did anything like this to him. (…Sucking air in through his teeth, flinching as if he'd touched a hot stove, pushing all of that away too because now isn't the time.)
…Despite all of this, Gladion doesn't want to cut off his mother. Whether that's wise or foolish, done out of a sense of responsibility or homesickness or both—he couldn't say. And he's not about to weigh in with an outsider's opinion.]
Sounds like you went through hell.
[…That's safe enough. And it's not enough.]
…You didn't—you don't deserve to be treated like that. You and Lillie.
[Still not enough. Maybe Rindo's saying this for his own sake. Stating the plain, obvious truth, in some kind of attempt to make sense of a world where things like these are allowed to happen.
He stares at the ground in between them, his jaw set tight. Frustrated. He wants to help, but he can't fix things and anything he says feels inadequate. How does Swallow deal with him?]
[There was a time when he thought that was all he wanted to hear. To reach the finish line, stop her schemes, bring her back, and have someone—her, Lillie, he didn't know—look at him with admiration and say, I can't believe you made it through all of that.
He thought a lot of things, back then.
It's awkward now. It's true. It's still down in the muck with the two of them, where clumsiness is the rule.]
Yeah. [Yeah.] It wasn't...a question of deserving. We were just there. [Wicke said something like that once.] I know because she didn't stop. After we left. I...
[Sigh.]
Something stupid about the whole thing is, I knew she was bad. She wasn't like that before. Even when it was gradual, it was—I knew it wasn't right. [More or less. Most of the time.] But I also...didn't. I didn't think I should...do anything about—not even that. There wasn't much I could do. But I didn't even think it through. [Is this a distinction without a difference? It feels like there's a difference.] Not until Silvally. I left because I found out about the UBs and the Beast Killer. It put this whole...idea in my head about what would happen if I stole it and ran away. But none of that actually made sense. And it sure didn't happen that way. But—
[What was his point? Gladion runs a hand back through his hair, swallowing back the scrambling feeling that was starting to run circles around him.]
...I don't regret leaving. Obviously. It still turned out for the better, for everyone, eventually. [Bluh.] What was I saying. [Bluuuugh.] Silvally is the Beast Killer. Mother changing the project meant, maybe they'd let it out now and then, or maybe they'd just shove it into cryostorage and forget about it. That's how I realized what the stakes were. For...us. She treated us one way because we're her own human children she was stuck with, and if we were Pokemon she'd let us get shoved in boxes when she was done with us too.
[Exhale.] Anyways. One reason I came up with was that I'd scare her into waking up. Or taking Silvally would screw up her plans and she'd have to stop. Just, either way, running away would fix things there too. But it didn't. She came down even harder on Lillie when I wasn't there. And after Lillie ran too, she went on ahead with the master plan.
[Point made. He thinks. After taking the long way around. He got a little worked up along the way—not, like, tearful or anything, just a little agitated from how much there always is.]
I'm fine. [For the record. In case the sudden rash of sighs and hair-fussing implied otherwise.] It's just a mess.
He thought a lot of things, back then.
It's awkward now. It's true. It's still down in the muck with the two of them, where clumsiness is the rule.]
Yeah. [Yeah.] It wasn't...a question of deserving. We were just there. [Wicke said something like that once.] I know because she didn't stop. After we left. I...
[Sigh.]
Something stupid about the whole thing is, I knew she was bad. She wasn't like that before. Even when it was gradual, it was—I knew it wasn't right. [More or less. Most of the time.] But I also...didn't. I didn't think I should...do anything about—not even that. There wasn't much I could do. But I didn't even think it through. [Is this a distinction without a difference? It feels like there's a difference.] Not until Silvally. I left because I found out about the UBs and the Beast Killer. It put this whole...idea in my head about what would happen if I stole it and ran away. But none of that actually made sense. And it sure didn't happen that way. But—
[What was his point? Gladion runs a hand back through his hair, swallowing back the scrambling feeling that was starting to run circles around him.]
...I don't regret leaving. Obviously. It still turned out for the better, for everyone, eventually. [Bluh.] What was I saying. [Bluuuugh.] Silvally is the Beast Killer. Mother changing the project meant, maybe they'd let it out now and then, or maybe they'd just shove it into cryostorage and forget about it. That's how I realized what the stakes were. For...us. She treated us one way because we're her own human children she was stuck with, and if we were Pokemon she'd let us get shoved in boxes when she was done with us too.
[Exhale.] Anyways. One reason I came up with was that I'd scare her into waking up. Or taking Silvally would screw up her plans and she'd have to stop. Just, either way, running away would fix things there too. But it didn't. She came down even harder on Lillie when I wasn't there. And after Lillie ran too, she went on ahead with the master plan.
[Point made. He thinks. After taking the long way around. He got a little worked up along the way—not, like, tearful or anything, just a little agitated from how much there always is.]
I'm fine. [For the record. In case the sudden rash of sighs and hair-fussing implied otherwise.] It's just a mess.
[Rindo's not convinced that Gladion's fine, but he's not about to grill him about it if he wants to pretend to be. He gets a feeling that just getting him to open up this much is an accomplishment in and of itself.
Gladion's sigh finds itself echoed in Rindo's reply.]
…Yeah. It is.
["Mess" is an understatement. Rindo's glad to hear Lillie was able to flee, at least. Still… how stubborn, how obsessed do you have to be for two of your children to literally run away from you and still refuse to change? To double down, even?]
Honestly, there probably wasn't any good solution… I guess you just couldn't stand it anymore. You had to try something. So you did whatever you could think of and… it didn't work. Maybe nothing would've worked, not as long as she didn't want to stop.
[Gladion's reasoning for stealing Silvally makes sense to him, even if…]
I… I don't think I would've been able to do what you did.
[It sounds… brave? Reckless? Risky? None of these qualifiers apply to Rindo.
Back to questions for a bit…]
So Silvally's the Beast Killer…? Is it artificial or something?
[He certainly doesn't mean to imply any kind of judgment here. So what if Silvally looks like a bunch of things stitched together? He and Gladion are just the same now.]
Gladion's sigh finds itself echoed in Rindo's reply.]
…Yeah. It is.
["Mess" is an understatement. Rindo's glad to hear Lillie was able to flee, at least. Still… how stubborn, how obsessed do you have to be for two of your children to literally run away from you and still refuse to change? To double down, even?]
Honestly, there probably wasn't any good solution… I guess you just couldn't stand it anymore. You had to try something. So you did whatever you could think of and… it didn't work. Maybe nothing would've worked, not as long as she didn't want to stop.
[Gladion's reasoning for stealing Silvally makes sense to him, even if…]
I… I don't think I would've been able to do what you did.
[It sounds… brave? Reckless? Risky? None of these qualifiers apply to Rindo.
Back to questions for a bit…]
So Silvally's the Beast Killer…? Is it artificial or something?
[He certainly doesn't mean to imply any kind of judgment here. So what if Silvally looks like a bunch of things stitched together? He and Gladion are just the same now.]
Edited 2023-08-14 15:05 (UTC)
[That's the thing, though. You don't think you can, until you have the choice. Then...then you find out what you're capable of.
Gladion is chewing on that. (Maybe to squirm away from how the validation feels.) Rindo holds himself back, he knows. And you never know, so it's pointless to speculate. But he thinks he can imagine it. Rindo drawing on, drawing out those little flashes of stubbornness he shows. Standing his ground, raising his voice. And then maybe something more involved. If he ran into Lusamine, at least, he wouldn't just fold to her. And that's worth something.]
Right. Born in a Foundation lab. That's why it was so...undersocialized before here. [What he's said before about it, how it seems to have taken well to Ryslig.]
Gladion is chewing on that. (Maybe to squirm away from how the validation feels.) Rindo holds himself back, he knows. And you never know, so it's pointless to speculate. But he thinks he can imagine it. Rindo drawing on, drawing out those little flashes of stubbornness he shows. Standing his ground, raising his voice. And then maybe something more involved. If he ran into Lusamine, at least, he wouldn't just fold to her. And that's worth something.]
Right. Born in a Foundation lab. That's why it was so...undersocialized before here. [What he's said before about it, how it seems to have taken well to Ryslig.]
[To be fair: there is a world where Rindo folds to Lusamine, or to Elias, or to any other manipulator—but it can't be this one. He's been made too wary, and there are too many people looking out for him, Gladion himself included.]
Well, even if things didn't work out the way you wanted, I'm glad you got it out of here. It must've been hard.
[If it's an artificial weapon, then Gladion's comments about it suddenly make a whole lot of sense. Thinking about Silvally's creation, there's a lot of room for imagining the worst… and for relating—both in the how of it, and the why.
…]
Isn't it kinda like us?
Well, even if things didn't work out the way you wanted, I'm glad you got it out of here. It must've been hard.
[If it's an artificial weapon, then Gladion's comments about it suddenly make a whole lot of sense. Thinking about Silvally's creation, there's a lot of room for imagining the worst… and for relating—both in the how of it, and the why.
…]
Isn't it kinda like us?
Made to a purpose?
[Let's keep following this train of thought it's way better than diving back into his turbulent mom feelings. Gladion's voice is still wavery, but it's in, like, a wry way now. He's Fine.]
[Let's keep following this train of thought it's way better than diving back into his turbulent mom feelings. Gladion's voice is still wavery, but it's in, like, a wry way now. He's Fine.]
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