mental link // S72

[servitor]

DIASPEIREIN To scatter, spread about.	MELIORISM The belief that the world gets better.
ORIFLAMME A symbol or standard that inspires confidence, devotion, or courage.	VANGUARD The troops moving at the head of an army.

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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[servitor]

( I haven't died from a migraine if that's what you're asking. )

[He still hasn't gotten used to the ungodly muffled voice echoing in his brain.]

[sistershoggoth]

( Good start. You makin' the rounds, bein' friendly? )

[servitor]

( I'm not sure how friendly I can be when everyone's one edge and suspicious of the new guy. Sort of. )

[sistershoggoth]

( Punch 'em, problem solved. )

[servitor]

( My duty as a soldier is to not punch innocent people, as much as I might dislike them.

And tempted by it. )

[sistershoggoth]

( Dunno, the fuckin' alien mothership is pretty fuckin' boring, maybe some brawling would help. )

[servitor]

( Sparring is different from picking a fight at random. )

[sistershoggoth]

( Is it though? Gotta keep them bitches on their toes. )

[ She's joking, sort of. Picking fights had been one of her hobbies as a drunken teenage bully, she's supposedly grown out of that. ]

[servitor]

( I have a feeling you've got that part covered well enough for the both of us. )

[Besides, Nyx didn't exactly pick fights... they just sort of ended up in his lap. Trouble had a way of finding him.]

[sistershoggoth]

( Probably. Noct tries to keep me under control. Not that I don't try, I mean I don't. )

[ Wow Annie, which is it. ]

[servitor]

( You don't try to keep under control or you try to not be out of control? )

[Confusing? Yes. Give her a hard time about it? Absolutely.]

[sistershoggoth]

[ Her annoyance with this question is too real; too many eyes narrowing, rolling, red with discontent. ]

( I'm not-- )

[ The sensation is the stretch of a rubber band, focusing, forcing words to come together. ]

( I'm not a fucking psycho bitch on purpose. I mean I am, but-- )

[ Stretching tighter. ]

( A lot of it is just learning how to make fuckin' human noises when everything in my head is anything but. )

[ The snap as she releases the focus, a sting. It can be hard for her to articulate this, a lot of the time she just talks about it in big broad strokes: my stupid fuckin' universe brain. ]

[servitor]

[He'd been teasing for the most part. But when she starts, when he starts to feel that stretch, that jumble of words being forced together like those stupid magnet words on a fridge to make some sentence...

The snap is a whip his mind. He focuses, for his sake, for hers, bullheaded as ever. The thousand thousand eyes react and he can only just stare forward and ahead, through the eyes and try to not flinch. Whatever she is makes every daemon and every MT amount to all of nothing.

Nyx just hopes that he can stand as just a person with nothing going for him in front of her, Annabeth, even Noctis. They're all harsh reminders that he's nothing.

You're nothing without the king's magic.]

( Hey, listen. Trying's enough. Trying's a lot more than most people can say. I'm trying to get you, too, and it's not easy, I'll be honest.

But... Do what you can and I'll do my part. I promise. Just try. )

[sistershoggoth]

( Don't be all fuckin' supportive and sincere with me and shit. It's fuckin' awful. I can only kind of put up with it when Noctis does it because he's too lame to just punch. )

[ Because she maybe kind of believes it sometimes when Noctis says it, all stupid and earnest: I'll learn to deal with all that stuff in your brain. ]

( Stick to what you're good at, fuckboy. )

[ Her tirade lacks bite. Her indignation small in the greater encompassing shell of what it could be, deflated in the middle with her softness for that goddamn prince. This tirade: more like a soggy donut and less like a fireball. ]

[servitor]

Fuckboy.

[He actually mouths the words physically, more surprised than really offended. That's just about the first time he's been called that.

The rest about Noctis? He'll just tuck that into the back of his mind.]

( Did you really just call me a fuckboy? )

[sistershoggoth]

( What, do they not have that saying in the sandman's castle? )

[servitor]

( We had that, I've just never been called one myself. Not directly. )

[sistershoggoth]

[ He is a poor excuse for a fuckboy. If nothing else because she's actually stuck with him-- Not something she's used to, and there's a pang of regret as she realizations she might've acted hastily. An emotion she hates with a passion. Goddamn can't a girl just get her rocks off without all this nonsense? That's the way she's always done it.

But she's never been tied at the head to one of her 'conquests' before. As usual, her flash flood of feeling comes without filter. She purses her lips where she's sitting. Maybe she does need to get this mental shit under control so that she can hide that kind of thing -- a thought as loud and clear as everything else. ]

( First time for everything, huh. )

[ She may be talking to herself, her frustration, her emotional incompetence; being entangled to what she wishes was a fuckboy. ]

[servitor]

[He's starting to get used to her waves of emotions, starting to get used to continually not addressing them until they're really an issue. Nyx would know how this would end anyway if he made a point about her guilt, regret, whatever else mixed into the mess.

Continually, Nyx remains composed and steadfast. A controlled fire, for now, one waiting to burst into flames given the right moment, the right, purposeful push to turn him into a raging wildfire. There's been no need to become that person.]

( I'll try to live up to it. )

[He absolutely will not try to live up to it, but better to joke it off than to be sincere. Noctis is the only one the pass around here.]

[sistershoggoth]

[ The two intentions wrestle: to own up or double down, but really it's a pointless argument. He already knows and everything is fine as long as she keeps this idiotic veneer of control, of craftsmanship over the appearance of things. Form before function, always, always, always. It's exactly how she's lived every one of her 27 years-- But it's unnecessary now. No one here really needs her to play human... A brief pulse of panic as she pushes that thought out of the headlights. It scares her, the idea that maybe she could let loose. She'd hurt somebody, she knows it. ]

( I'll find you some tube socks. )

[ As a gift for not making her own up or even say sorry. ]

[servitor]

[He sighs. Nope, he can't avoid this one.]

( Annie... I know we're all in the same brood, but you don't owe me or anyone anything. I don't even know exactly what you are but it's you. At the very least, you don't need to look after me. There's a lot I've seen out there, some worse than others. You're not worse than any of that. )

[Hell, maybe she is worse than some of the truly awful daemons he's seen, the ones that ravaged the city and the outskirts, the creepy MTs that are all metal and no soul. But, he suspects, she's better than that. Better than hordes of dangerous things out to destroy on the whim of a twisted emperor stupidly hungry for power he can't even control.

Besides, he's a big boy. He can handle himself.]

( I haven't died yet, right? I've got all the ribbons to show for it. )

[What's up war hero.]

[sistershoggoth]

[ What does she care if he dies-- What the fuck would she care? She's indignant with it, pulsing hot, but even thinking about it makes her want to puke. God if he died she'd have to do it all over again, one more fucking body in the graveyard she keeps in her mind, another name to pour out drinks to, drinks she no longer personally took part in, another chain, another needle, another nightmare.

And she'd die with him, she'd get to feel the whole fucking thing because he's all sloshed up inside of her.

She's getting upset, she can feel it strangling the way up her throat, a headache pulsing at the seams. ]

( Fucking shut up Nyx. Shut the fuck up. I don't fucking care if you jump out of the goddamn airlock right this second-- )

[ Not like his livid determination to carry on had been incredible, like taking the weight off over abused joints, like drinking fire-- ]

( --Don't need any of your stupid sentimental bullshit. Fucking shut up and grow a pair. )

[ Her array of insults and invective is nothing more than covering her ears and trying to hum him away. ]

[servitor]

[She's getting all wrapped up in him, all kinds of upset and all kinds of unwilling to deal with death and death and death and yes, he's seen it too, more than he cares to admit.

And then he thinks of Crowe again, a woman who'd been nothing but an upstanding soldier, a little sister they'd picked up along the way, not just a casualty, but a victim of vice and anger. Crowe, so young, who had been sent on a fatal mission that meant nothing at all. Crowe, sucked of life and never got a proper burial.

There's everyone before her too, and everyone after, and it's all of the Kingsglaive being put to death by all sides.]

( Where are you? )

[It's the most he can string together, trying to keep himself controlled when the grief he couldn't even fully address threatens to choke him.]

[sistershoggoth]

[ Trying to push him out is like pulling down invisible curtains. She doesn't know how to really bring in her sprawling mindscape into one discreet package that can be tucked away. Every time she grabs a piece of it and furls it up, something else is oozing outward, reaching for him, wanting for hurt to meet with hurt. In that equivalency, there was certainty, stability.

Even if she has no interest in wallowing in it. ]

( Fuck off! )

[ But really, she's right here, leaned back into one of those empty white walls, smoke curling into the fall of her hair. She shoots him a furious glower as he comes around the corner. The look on her face is all rejection, but on the inside... like a bathtub overflowing, first over the tips of your toes and out and out and out. ]

[servitor]

[Without much fuss, warning, or ceremony, he settles next to her, arms crossed, not looking at her. Yeah, the whiplash can be a bit exhausting, he'll admit it. He's spent a lot of his life trying to not be shaken by the outside world, to be as even as possible because without it, he's not sure if he would've gotten so far.

The furious glare washes over him. His gaze remains steady, not unconcerned, but somewhere between calculating and thoughtful.]

I'm not going to ask you to open up to me, Annie. I'm asking you to let me help. I'm asking you to really trust me. I can't help you keep it together if you keep snapping at me, and that's if you want to keep it together.

[There's no judgment. After all, he can't relate to anything about her outside of deep loss and wasted youths. If she's a human galaxy, then he's just a speck of dust. But here he is, doing his damned best to make sure stars shine and don't collapse on themselves like dark holes.]