Ignacio "Nacho" Varga (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nachocheese) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dear_mun2022-10-18 06:44 pm
nachocheese) wrote in dear_mun2022-10-18 06:44 pmvoicetesting;
So you're really doing this? [ Tiny little exhale through nose. ] Alright.
nachocheese) wrote in dear_mun2022-10-18 06:44 pm
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What kind of game are they playing with you, lamb?
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I don't know.
You?
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[Her accent makes her sound a little formal and her tone sounds like someone is going to pay for this indignity.
Then she’s back to conversational, mostly…]
Your name.
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[A rarity, huh? Yeah, he can maybe relate to that.
He gives her a small nod of acknowledgement when she asks his name. His own demeanor is reserved, but polite.]
Nacho. Who're you?
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[ 'Nacho' earns a quirk of an eyebrow and an incredulous smile.]
I will tell you as soon as you explain what "Nacho" is short for.
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So are you gonna tell me who I'm talking to now, or what?
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[And again, he earns a smirk.]
Or what.
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Also, W H Y does this keep happening to him? Does he have a sign on his back that says "hey unstable psychopaths, come here!" or something and nobody's told him?
Whatever. He exhales a little harder than necessary but otherwise his expression doesn't change. ]
Or this conversation is concluded.
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[His exhalation earns a flat glare, very clearly the wrong thing to say.]
...Citra.
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Also "ironic" wait what hey okay now he is offended but also he's been around enough lunatics to know antagonizing her is not the move.]
Nice to meet you, Citra. Are you always this [...] intriguing?
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or a shark scenting blood in the water]I only do what fate requires. My people, I suspect, think I'm very intriguing.
[ There's something in her body language that changes - thinking before speaking might be a very good idea from here forward. He's met women like this, that seem like they're coasting on rich-bitch or bad-girl arrogance and then you learn why they have a crew following behind them.]
Rare is the man that I offend that doesn't call me a bitch for it. I can't tell if you are smart or a coward.
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[He tries to keep a normal conversation going, but the way she looks at him makes a chill run down his spine. His breath catches in his throat and the subtle signs of irritation and anger shift instead to stress and anxiety. He feels like a rabbit or a mouse that's being slowly advanced upon by an enormous predator.
There was a point in time when he would have gotten angrier, or gotten up in her face and tried to make her regret insulting him. Not anymore. Not after everything he's been through at the hands of every other violent lunatic he's encountered.
He lifts both hands up to his chest, palms pushed out, trying to show he's no threat. Weakly, he tries for a joke, although his voice is maybe a little too flat and deadpan to really sell it. Does she even like jokes? Let's find out!]
Who knows? Maybe both.
[Can he just leave now please oh God he should've bailed when he had the chance w h y is he still here]
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[ He jokes and Citra feels her heart break. Vaas could have been like this. Should have been like this. Nacho was perhaps a bit softer at first blush, but she knew a warrior when she saw one. He had something driving him - something that made him strong.]
You should have listened, Vaas...
[ As quickly as pride moved through her, longing seems to overtake her now. She looks at him and sees her brother, sees the first man that was worth anything in her eyes.
Citra is staring at Nacho, eyes scanning his features as she advances in trancelike lethargy.]
Why did you leave me...
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When she starts talking about "Vaas", his brow knits. He doesn't know who that is, but from the context of their conversation thus far, he has a few guesses. He studies her. Her slow trans-like state doesn't make him any less anxious, but instinct tells him to hold his ground. Running might make him seem even more like prey to her.
Not to mention it would be a bitch move too, so there's that. He surveys her, trying to predict her next move, trying to see if she has a weapon or if she's going to grab for him. Hands still up.]
I didn't leave you. I'm right here. It's okay.
[Arguing with crazies outright never, ever works. You have to play their game for a while, at least until you figure out how they operate.]
Nacho is so good I'm so sorry lol
When the world was still young, when gods and creatures still walked the earth, there was a lake of great beauty, guarded jealously by a giant that lurked under the surface of the water.
A great warrior from northern lands gathered his weapon, a dagger, and marked himself with the tatau so that the power of the dead and his ancestors would give him strength.
[ This is a story long committed to memory, her hands moving to emphasize the warrior, his dagger, the tatau on her own body (is that one on her chin?!). Citra meets his eye again, the story moving through her as she speaks.]
The warrior approached the lake, the lotus blossoms filling the air with their sweet scent. As he approached, the giant rose from the waters and attacked.
Unafraid, the warrior met the giant in battle and with the blessing of the tatau took his dagger and STRUCK --
[ She smacks her fist into her hand, in front of her face before tilting up her chin and drawing her thumb across her own neck. ]
The warrior cut the giant's head clean off its shoulders. The giant's head fell to the earth and landed in the sea, becoming Rook Island. The warrior's descendants flourished on the island, the Rakyat - our people.
[ She sobers at the end of her story, gazing at her hands as she lowers them. ]
When outsiders hear this story, they call us barbaric. They try to make us different, civilize us, too good for the truth that life comes from death. They're so willing to kill us to make us fit their perfect world. Every generation, there is some pirate, some warlord, some colonizing fuck that think themselves giants. Powerful and untouchable...
[ Citra looks at Vaas -- no, not Vaas, but close enough -- and the hurt and anger surge for a moment. Vaas would mock her and her devotion, too complacent with a pirates life to respect where they came from. He abandoned them in cowardice, in shameful dereliction of his destiny.
Nacho tells her the one thing she had always wanted to hear. She prayed for those words to leave Vaas' lips and the rage douses, her hands drop to her sides and for a moment all Citra can do is stare. HE isn't Vaas. He can't be. He ISN'T.
...he is.
He said so himself.
The trance seems to break, but her eyes shine- bright and desperate as she grabs his hands.]
Come back to the temple with me. If you come with me they'll forgive you, they won't dare challenge me - either of us - ever again.
Noooo, don't be! <3 It's amazing!
Mostly. He does flinch a little when she strikes her palm like that, leaning back slightly.
All he can think is that this is some crazy shit.
She amps up, getting angrier, and when she looks at him, he can tell she's not seeing him at all. She's seeing someone else. This "Vaas" guy. For the briefest of moments, he expects her to lash out, but she doesn't. She softens.
Okay, he thinks with some relief, good move. He knows he isn't out of the woods yet, though. She grabs both of his hands in hers before he can react, and he thinks yanking them away would be a very, very, very bad idea. Her words catch him off-guard even more than her grabbing his hands does, and he has to think on the fly. He has to try to find some way out of this that doesn't end with her flying into a rage and killing him. It's some comfort that at least there's no way she could know about his father, so it's only saving his own skin he has to worry about.]
Back to the temple? With you? [He wants to look around to see what his options are or if there's anything he can use as a weapon so he can get away, but he doesn't. He keeps his eyes focused on her bright, shining ones. That seems like the safest move right now.
He hasn't known this girl for long, but he can already tell this is going to be much, much worse than dealing with Tuco. Whether it's worse than dealing with Lalo or The Chicken Man, well, that remains to be seen, but the odds don't seem to be in his favor.]
Sure. Okay. We can go to the temple. Lead the way.
[???? They sure as fuck should not be going to the temple and he knows that, but he doesn't know her well enough yet to know how to talk his way out of this and he doesn't have a gun on his person that he can use to give himself the advantage. He's strong and athletic, and he could overpower most women easily (most men too, for that matter!) but she very clearly is not "most women" and everything about her screams, "I am dangerously unstable!" so pissing her off still doesn't seem to be the best move. He does not want to go to the temple, but he doesn't see an easy way out, at least not right now. Maybe she'll let go of his hands and turn to leave, and he can make a break for it. That seems like his best option.]
Re: Noooo, don't be! <3 It's amazing!
Vaas was all at once arrogant and cowardly; brave in one breath and terrified the next. They hated each other. They loved each other. This ghost, this man who wore his face was too even, too closed.
Citra blinks her eyes against the sting of tears as she pulls away from Nacho, shaking her head a little as if to clear it. All who were strong enough to lead the Raykat were tempted by the weaknesses that plagued their hearts and spirits. What better to tempt her with than the Vaas she deserved?]
That was foolish, Ignacio...
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He doesn't reciprocate but he doesn't push her away, either. He stands still, letting her kiss him, pushing her lips against him while he doesn't respond. Then she pulls away with tears glistening in her eyes. He watches her intently. His breathing is hard and slightly ragged.
She's calling him the right name again...]
Oh, yeah?
[It's rapidly becoming clear that passivity and appeasing her won't get him as far as he had hoped. Nacho doesn't enjoy violence, but that doesn't mean he isn't capable of it when it's called for.]
So was that shit you just pulled.
[With that, he grabs for one of her wrists, to wrench it behind her back. Hopefully, he's quick enough, and she's distracted enough, that she doesn't immediately stop him and retaliate.]
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Citra feels the wrenching of her wrist and she lets off a yelp, quick and affronted before laughing right in Nacho's face. She laughs so hard that she actually does cry for a second, doubling over into him as she
laughssobslaughs. The violence was right but there was no showboating, no theatrics.Everything was right. Everything was wrong.
With her free hand, she grabbed at his collar - intent on keeping him too close for both of their comfort.]
You're testing me for them, aren't you?
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He can imagine, too, how seeing someone else wearing the skin of somebody he loved, acting all wrong while doing it, would mess with his head. He still doesn't think he'd be as mixed up as she is right now, though.
That doesn't mean he's going to let her go. They're past that now. He makes a tiny grunting noise when she grabs his collar, just barely loud enough to hear. They're entwined now, like snakes eating each other's tails. His hand is on her wrist; her other hand is on his shirt. He wants to let go immediately and run away, but he has no intention of losing this game of chicken. He tried being nice already; that didn't work. His only option now is to let her know exactly who she's dealing with, and it definitely isn't this "Vaas" guy.]
I'm not testing shit. Listen to me. I don't want to hurt you. I want to let you go, but first I need to know you're not going to try to play me. You got it?
[Somehow, he doesn't have high hopes that she does, indeed, "got it."]
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Citra cuts her eyes at him as he sets the new terms of engagement - the redness from crying making the green of her irises stand out more. It makes her look put-out and catlike all at once. She tightens her grip on his collar and takes a slow breath.
How dare he talk to her like she is some common woman like he doesn't KNOW who she is. ]
Lower your tone.
[He doesn't know who she is.
The thought sobers her and she scans his face again for any difference she can find. Even fierce he has pretty eyes. No scar. Her love, her anger recedes back into the furthest depths of her heart and she sighs, earlier clarity restored as if she hadn't been teetering on the edge of insanity not even a minute ago.
Fate is what she and Vaas have and this shade, this ghost, this unlucky fuck wearing his face has no right to the fallout of her brother's weakness.
He is not hers and never was.
She lets go of him and holds the Vaas of her dreams ever closer to her heart. ]
Grief and 'madness' are lovers, Ignacio. I hope you never learn how closely they lie.
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He watches her with traces of confusion outlined on his face as she returns to clarity. It kind of reminds him of Tuco coming down off of a high, a little bit, except not even Tuco's moods changed this quickly or this drastically.
He feels her loosening her grip on his collar, but he still waits a few seconds longer before he finally relinquishes his hold on her wrist. Slowly, he does eventually release her.]
This guy "Vaas" who you said looks like me. What happened to him? You said that somebody was going to forgive him if he came to the temple with you...? So he left. How come?
[It might not seem like a smart move to dig down into that topic, but Nacho knows they are already on that topic and will stay on it and can't leave it by virtue of his presence at all. He might as well at least try to get a coherent story out of her and figure out who she is mistaking him for.]
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We were raised together. Of all the Rakyat, he was the strongest and the most clever. There was nothing impossible for us when he was my champion.
[The next memory earns a bit of a scowl as she recalls the schism that grew between them.]
At first, he was brave - he promised to protect me and all of our people. But as leaders, there are things demanded of us. The Rakyat needed us to be strong - I needed him - and he became afraid. We became jealous - he and I - and he was seduced away by a colonizer who thought himself a warlord. He was too much of a coward to just leave - he joined the men trying to destroy us and take our home.
[Her expression sours at the memory of the way Vaas pleaded with her, about another way, another life]
No. They are trying to take my home. Hoyt and his drugs can have Vaas. I will become the goddess my people need. I will find a new champion and I will give the Rakyat their perfect warrior once more.
[With a sigh, Citra straightens her posture and turns her attention to Nacho. It lacks the intensity or desperation of earlier and now unburdened, she looks ...almost normal.]
You? You are loathe to do it, but you know your way in fighting. Why so meek?
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He can tell she looks tired. He would be too, he figures, if he was cycling through so many intense emotions all at once. One right after the other, they wash over her countenance; it's almost tiring for him to watch, so it must be even more overwhelming for her to experience.
He just listens, intently but without judgment, to her story about Vaas. He feels like he's missing a lot of the pieces he'd need to make a judgement, anyway. He can at least relate to her obvious determination in the face of overwhelming odds, even if he can only still imagine their goals must be very different.]
Me? [Well, it's only fair, right? Kind of a you-show-me-yours, I'll-show-you-mine kinda deal? He's a little stung by being called "meek," but he's not angry, because he doesn't think she's actually wrong in her assessment. It's weird. They just met, but something about her makes him feel transparent, as if she can see all the way down into the core of his soul and pull out any parts of himself he tries to hide.]
Heh. It's funny. Would you believe I wasn't always? It's like, you're tough until you meet somebody tougher. Then you get used to doing someone else's bidding. Before you know it, it's second nature. You get used to keeping people happy. Doing what they want you to do. If it was only me in the picture, maybe eventually I'd have enough and I could just say, "Do your worst, you fucks!" but it's not. I have somebody else to think about.
[A lot lower on specifics than what she told him, maybe, but he still feels like he's bearing his soul.]