[ He slashes again, though this time it's the reflex instead of a conscious effort. ]
Nobody is, right? Nobody's misunderstood, they're just not trying hard enough to get out of their mess, right? If they just try harder, they can succeed, right? I've heard it all before and I still ended up killing that damn kid. He should have just given me what I wanted, that's all! But he was an overlander, too. He was like them... "Closing up"... It was all an excuse because he hates people like me! They all do, and you're the same!!
So I'll just kill-- it's the only thing I can count on! No one needs me, I don't need them-- everyone I like just dies anyway-- if I kill everyone I like, maybe I'll see 'em again someday...
But I don't want to see you. You're like them. You can FUCK OFF!
[He's going to attempt grabbing your wrist the next time.]
Killing. Won't. Help.
[He looks into his eyes.]
It won't. I know. I've killed for a long time. It won't stop the filth from coming back into your life... nor will it release you from the pain of your nightmares.
[ He stops momentarily at the stroking... This was a familiar feeling...
Right. His mom used to do the same for him when he was very young. He missed her. She was the only one who understood him, even when he'd lashed out at her. She was the one who'd read Alice in Wonderland to him.
...you're not bad, deep down. Not many are. One misplaced step and the world crashes down on us. Something as simple as being raised by the wrong people, for liking different things, for being an outcast... for being an orphan who looked like a little girl.
The world shits on us all, Cheshire. All of us. We don't owe the world a goddamn thing for the treatment we've been given...
But for those who earnestly reach out to us... for those who dig deep enough, who get through our walls and our screams and our scratching, biting misery...
For those who truly see "us" as we were before everything went sideways and don't judge us? Who see us for who we are now and want to help us? We owe it to ourselves to go on from there and to work with whatever we have.
Whatever pieces we have left of our tattered lives, those pieces are ours. And if people acknowledge and care for those pieces, we should do what we can to become stronger, so we can hold on to whatever scatterings we have left with pride.
[ He stares at the ground a long while, taking in the speech. It's kind of... soothing, actually. This was probably the first time in a long while he could actually focus on what was being said. Usually it was just muttered words in a feverish dream, but now there was substance and feeling behind those words... and they were clear.
For the first time, it was both Cheshire and Jimothy that heard them. Maybe... Maybe that was why he was so calm now. ]
... [ He lets out a little, nervous laugh. ] An orphan that looks like a little girl?
[Sanzo uncerimoniously sits down next to him, chuckling dryly and speaking with a touch of a more relaxed nature than before. Something about Cheshire's chaotic manner reminded him so much of himself.]
...ah. When I was young, I was found in a river. The name I was given was Kouryu, the River Orphan. From that time on, as I grew up at the temple of my master, Priest Koumyou Sanzo, I had to deal with taunting, teasing, bullying... and when I was a little older, I had to deal with perverts.
[He looks down.]
You reminded me of how angry I was back then. How much it annoyed me that such filth was allowed to roam the temple grounds, to say the things they said, to do the things they did.
[He looks up.]
My master was murdered viciously before my eyes almost directly after bestowing the title of Sanzo Priest upon me and giving me my new name, Genjo Sanzo. That night, I fled the temple armed with only my gun and the Maten Sutra. [He gestures to the scripture about his shoulders. He then laughs, though it is laced with a venomous hate that twists the tone of his voice.]
They tried to rape me, that first group of bastards I faced on that god-forsaken hill. Three men tried to rob me after I'd been without food and water for five days. Well, without adequate food and water. Absolutely no strength left in me at all, and this fucker says, "He looks like a girl..."
I still smell him when I think back on that memory. Sweat. Piss. Booze. How revolting.
So I shot him to protect myself. Right through his right eye.
I spent days on that bloodstained hill, killing demons and humans alike, some innocent, others not, but what position was I in to judge? I was the worthless orphan cast into the river, remember?
[He looks to Cheshire.]
A monk covered in blood. And yet people beg me to chant or to pray... and I always find it such a complete farce.
[ Sanzo was sitting next to him. This guy... really wasn't afraid at all, huh? Cheshire looks to him, somewhat hesitantly. He didn't want to kill this guy anymore... and he was afraid that he might anyway. Right now it was like the calm before the storm.
But he listened anyway. His expression remained one of curiousity, unfazed by the story being told. He grins, looking down. ]
Right.
Sounds like your life sucked. More than mine, anyway. I was never... touched by anyone. I never had that happen. But I couldn't mesh anyway.
Don't say it that way. Don't make it sound like I was trying something so petty as to one-up your sense of pain. It's just a story.
[He offers the hedgehog a cigarette.]
...puzzles wouldn't be as interesting if everything automatically locked into place. Sometimes it's the effort made to find a place where a piece fits...
And fuck those who try to cut up the pieces so they'll fit the mold they weren't meant for. Those people need to shut up and die.
[Irritated, he begins lighting up another cigarette.]
[ He blinks, taking the cigarette and popping it into his mouth. ] I wasn't trying anything, dumbass.
[ It doesn't really taste like anything to him. He gives a bit of a sigh. That's right... Ever since he was mutated, nothing really felt the same. His old habits, too... But it felt nice to have it in his mouth anyway. ]
There are a lot of stupid people alive. They always think they're better than you but they aren't. They're walkin' on this damn earth, too, and they're covered in just as much shit as you are, if not more. But they don't see it-- they think it's perfume or something the way they parade around in it.
They never helped me. It was a dead end. Overlanders don't help Mobians. They just attack us. Mom told me about the war and that's why they all hate us. Neverending.
When they threw me in the asylum, they never meant to help me. They were gonna kill me. Me an' Smiley never had a chance.
We were in the same cell. He was always crying at night and jittering about every damn thing. I called him that because he was so scared of everything.
Then I ripped his head off his shoulders.
No, wait, that was after they tortured me. They were already torturing Smiley, too.
I killed a kid for not letting me buy smokes. He should have let me. He said he was closing up... Or he was too young to sell them. I don't remember. It was some dumb excuse.
I don't know why Smiley was there. It was for the criminally insane, they said. But I think they put anyone there... especially Mobians.
Where I grew up, the hate was real bad. There was a lot of discrimination against Mobians. It was so bad that... yeah... People who were just messed up could get sent to that asylum for almost no good reason.
[ Takes a long drag before exhaling through his nose. ]
Even if Smiley annoyed the fuck out of me, he was still a Mobian. Whenever there were daily exercises and stuff, I'd look out for him. He wouldn't stop crying at night and I'd just scream at him. I didn't know how to get him to stop and I couldn't sleep at night because of him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Nobody is, right? Nobody's misunderstood, they're just not trying hard enough to get out of their mess, right? If they just try harder, they can succeed, right? I've heard it all before and I still ended up killing that damn kid. He should have just given me what I wanted, that's all! But he was an overlander, too. He was like them... "Closing up"... It was all an excuse because he hates people like me! They all do, and you're the same!!
So I'll just kill-- it's the only thing I can count on! No one needs me, I don't need them-- everyone I like just dies anyway-- if I kill everyone I like, maybe I'll see 'em again someday...
But I don't want to see you. You're like them. You can FUCK OFF!
The bird. won't. work.
Killing. Won't. Help.
[He looks into his eyes.]
It won't. I know. I've killed for a long time. It won't stop the filth from coming back into your life... nor will it release you from the pain of your nightmares.
Re: The bird. won't. work.
We've been over this, goldilocks! Even if I wanted to stop, I can't!!
no subject
You stupid rodent. You really...
[If that other hand connects, it's going to gently, very gently, rub Cheshire's head, almost like one would ruffle the hair of an upset child.]
You really shouldn't have to think this way.
no subject
Right. His mom used to do the same for him when he was very young. He missed her. She was the only one who understood him, even when he'd lashed out at her. She was the one who'd read Alice in Wonderland to him.
He was Jimothy back then. Now he was alone. ]
...
[ He lowers his head, saying nothing. ]
no subject
The world shits on us all, Cheshire. All of us. We don't owe the world a goddamn thing for the treatment we've been given...
But for those who earnestly reach out to us... for those who dig deep enough, who get through our walls and our screams and our scratching, biting misery...
For those who truly see "us" as we were before everything went sideways and don't judge us? Who see us for who we are now and want to help us? We owe it to ourselves to go on from there and to work with whatever we have.
Whatever pieces we have left of our tattered lives, those pieces are ours. And if people acknowledge and care for those pieces, we should do what we can to become stronger, so we can hold on to whatever scatterings we have left with pride.
no subject
For the first time, it was both Cheshire and Jimothy that heard them. Maybe... Maybe that was why he was so calm now. ]
... [ He lets out a little, nervous laugh. ] An orphan that looks like a little girl?
no subject
...ah. When I was young, I was found in a river. The name I was given was Kouryu, the River Orphan. From that time on, as I grew up at the temple of my master, Priest Koumyou Sanzo, I had to deal with taunting, teasing, bullying... and when I was a little older, I had to deal with perverts.
[He looks down.]
You reminded me of how angry I was back then. How much it annoyed me that such filth was allowed to roam the temple grounds, to say the things they said, to do the things they did.
[He looks up.]
My master was murdered viciously before my eyes almost directly after bestowing the title of Sanzo Priest upon me and giving me my new name, Genjo Sanzo. That night, I fled the temple armed with only my gun and the Maten Sutra. [He gestures to the scripture about his shoulders. He then laughs, though it is laced with a venomous hate that twists the tone of his voice.]
They tried to rape me, that first group of bastards I faced on that god-forsaken hill. Three men tried to rob me after I'd been without food and water for five days. Well, without adequate food and water. Absolutely no strength left in me at all, and this fucker says, "He looks like a girl..."
I still smell him when I think back on that memory. Sweat. Piss. Booze. How revolting.
So I shot him to protect myself. Right through his right eye.
I spent days on that bloodstained hill, killing demons and humans alike, some innocent, others not, but what position was I in to judge? I was the worthless orphan cast into the river, remember?
[He looks to Cheshire.]
A monk covered in blood. And yet people beg me to chant or to pray... and I always find it such a complete farce.
If they only knew that other side of me, I think.
Right?
no subject
But he listened anyway. His expression remained one of curiousity, unfazed by the story being told. He grins, looking down. ]
Right.
Sounds like your life sucked. More than mine, anyway. I was never... touched by anyone. I never had that happen. But I couldn't mesh anyway.
There's always gotta be someone who doesn't fit.
no subject
[He offers the hedgehog a cigarette.]
...puzzles wouldn't be as interesting if everything automatically locked into place. Sometimes it's the effort made to find a place where a piece fits...
And fuck those who try to cut up the pieces so they'll fit the mold they weren't meant for. Those people need to shut up and die.
[Irritated, he begins lighting up another cigarette.]
no subject
[ It doesn't really taste like anything to him. He gives a bit of a sigh. That's right... Ever since he was mutated, nothing really felt the same. His old habits, too... But it felt nice to have it in his mouth anyway. ]
Die, huh. That's what I was thinkin'.
no subject
[He blows a smoke ring before offering his lighter to Cheshire.]
"Shut the fuck up." is what I'm thinking.
I hate hearing useless words.
no subject
Yeah. [ Hands it back. ]
Same here.
no subject
no subject
There are a lot of stupid people alive. They always think they're better than you but they aren't. They're walkin' on this damn earth, too, and they're covered in just as much shit as you are, if not more. But they don't see it-- they think it's perfume or something the way they parade around in it.
no subject
[He nods.]
It's best to leave them with their ignorance. They'll reject anything other than it anyway so it's a waste of time.
no subject
[ Shakes his head. ]
I keep wondering if I'm one of them.
no subject
You kill, not because you'll be killed otherwise, but due to psychosis. At least that's what I can see.
[He looks to him.]
...from what I've gleaned off of our meeting... you seem more like a messed up kid who needs help, honest help not whatever it is you eventually got.
no subject
They never helped me. It was a dead end. Overlanders don't help Mobians. They just attack us. Mom told me about the war and that's why they all hate us. Neverending.
When they threw me in the asylum, they never meant to help me. They were gonna kill me. Me an' Smiley never had a chance.
no subject
[He takes another drag from his cigarette.]
no subject
We were in the same cell. He was always crying at night and jittering about every damn thing. I called him that because he was so scared of everything.
Then I ripped his head off his shoulders.
No, wait, that was after they tortured me. They were already torturing Smiley, too.
no subject
So then he was your cellmate.
And you killed him after you were tortured.
What about before? Do you remember anything about him before? Other than that he was muttering and what not. Why were you two even there?
no subject
I don't know why Smiley was there. It was for the criminally insane, they said. But I think they put anyone there... especially Mobians.
Where I grew up, the hate was real bad. There was a lot of discrimination against Mobians. It was so bad that... yeah... People who were just messed up could get sent to that asylum for almost no good reason.
[ Takes a long drag before exhaling through his nose. ]
Even if Smiley annoyed the fuck out of me, he was still a Mobian. Whenever there were daily exercises and stuff, I'd look out for him. He wouldn't stop crying at night and I'd just scream at him. I didn't know how to get him to stop and I couldn't sleep at night because of him.
But he was still a Mobian.
no subject
[Sanzo was thoughtful a moment.]
no subject
[ Stares at the ground. ]
Overlanders are humans. Like you.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)