heartlandresort | weeps silently

Lost, Mizacha~an~?

[ Hello there Mizael there is a Vector sitting on a nearby roof and watching you, clearly in some amusement.

(nobody ask how or why he keeps ending up in high places)

(they're better to look down on people for mockery's sake, is all) ]

[ the sound of nails on chalkboard stabs at his eardrums and pierces his brain--

oh it's just Vector ]

[ he scowls ]

Hardly. I know exactly where I am.

[ no, he doesn't, but Vector would sure as hell be the last person he'd admit that to

(he's half tempted to push him off that perch)

(half tempted really meaning he definitely would if he could) ]

[ Vector would have the most shit-eating grin on his face if he could right now.

Since he can't, he only leans forward and hums sharply. ]

Oh~? Then you won't mind escorting me to the BARian, right?

O-Of course I could!

[ he can't ]

But why should I lead you anywhere? You know where it is--why don't you go there yourself? I want to go somewhere else.

[ like where. he hardly knew any other place besides BARian and that nice boutique he passed on the way

(of course he didn't stop to take a look)

(no way) ]

We~ell, it'd be just terrible of me to let poor little Mizachan go off into this strange place all on his own, right?

[ He hops down from the roof in one, wings buzzing behind him as he hits the ground. ]

I'll come too.

I don't want you anywhere near me. Get lost.

[ Vector continuously grates on his nerves, and it doesn't help that he has access to his Barian form. Mizael can't bariarphose. ]

[ on impulse, he starts walking away--in which direction? he doesn't even know. he just goes and tries to make it look like he has purpose

(maybe if he went down this street he could reach a place he knew) ]

[ Vector trots after Mizael regardless, wings buzzing again with each step. ]

I know what you want.

[ But it's boring being alone, and probably the only thing Vector hates more than being bored is Tsukumo Yuuma.

Since Yuuma's not here... Mizael's his best shot at entertainment right now, right? ]

Well if you know what I want, then leave.

[ he turns another street corner and finds himself on an avenue of restaurants, except none of these are BARian. he scowls at the empty street and moves to keep going--

--wait.

are these streets supposed to be so empty at this time of day? not that he's complaining at the lack of humans, but ]

Where is everyone?

[ he asks Vector, but when he realizes he's acknlowdged him, Mizael coughs and mumbles something under his breath, as if answering himself ]

[ Vector follows after Mizael without even bothering to offer him more of a response than a humming little laugh.

And for once in his life, he seems quite content to follow quietly.

(he's waiting, after all)

And then Mizael asks him the question and Vector has to stifle a laugh before he answers. ]

Well, Mi~za~el, honey, you're not quite where you thought you were!

Don't call me honey.

[ the nerve. ]

[ dealing with Vector always puts him in a bad mood ]

And if you want to make yourself the least bit useful, then tell me where we are. We are in Heartland, correct?

[ Oh, Mizael. You just make it too easy. ]

We~ell! It's definitely a skilled copy, at least. Bu~ut it's not the real thing. Honey.

[ he tries to ignore it. if he pays attention to it, Vector will just use it more. so he breathes--in, and out--and pretends he never heard it. ]

And how do you know this? Are the others here?

[ and what of Tsukumo Yuuma and his gang? would this Numbers War go to waste now that they're not where they're supposed to be? ]

Can't you feel it?

[ He sounds almost, for a moment, disturbed.

(is it this form, that means he can feel it?)

(is he the only one who feels the way that the stars that shine in the night here don't quite resonate with his core, as they had in the human world?)

(he doesn't like feeling so... human when he's in this form) ]

...tch.

Your little boyfriend is here. Alit, I mean. Not Durbe.

[ He taps a clawed fingertip to his chin and giggles a little, and perhaps it's a little rattled-sounding but he imagines his words will distract from that. ]

Although I guess you just wish Durbe was your boyfriend, hu~uh?

[ The question takes him aback, and for the first time since he's arrived, he finally notices.

And it only serves to distress him further.

He feels--faintly--of the song from Vector. But he's stuck in this human body, and even with his lapis hanging free he can only receive muffled voices.

(he grips the gem across his chest, places his fingers against the ruby, and it glows, but doesn't shine)

The stars above do not sing to him. He thought it was just because in his human form, everything is dulled, but now that Vector mentions it--he can't feel a thing at all. ]

--Tch. I do not wish for such things.

[ Oh, but he does.

(he knows he does, but that's pathetic, and he has no time for what he wants when he has what he needs and the Barian World needs him too) ]

Nor is Alit my boyfriend. We aren't close.

[ (close enough, that he cares)

(close enough that Vector's attack as Shingetsu will still burn in this mind) ]

[ And if he does notice the rattle, the tiny break from the usual tone, he doesn't comment. Because he's rattled too, and as much as he hates to admit it, having Vector next to him puts him at ease.

(when the stars don't sing and he can't respond, he feels empty)

(and Vector is better than the silence) ]

[ Mizael goes all... aloof, like that, and usually... well. Usually that's Vector's cue to jump on him even more, isn't it? See how long it takes to break down those walls and bring out the fire and the spitting anger again.

But the silence has been called to attention and so now it sits heavy in the air between them; weighs him down and mutes his laughter as well as everything else.

(he tries to laugh again at Mizael but it sticks in his throat) ]

You don't-- You're silent too. Or.

[ He spins away and puts his back to Mizael abruptly, channels his agitation into a kind of manic energy instead; into buzzing wings and wildly gesticulating hands, into claws that swipe at the air as he speaks and into feet that dance in little movements across the ground even though he doesn't move all that far from where he started. ]

Or. Well. There's something. Maybe?

From that.

[ He whirls around again, jabs a finger in the direction of Mizael's lapis without ever quite touching it --

(nearly, nearly, but he's not quite so lonely yet as to resort to that)

-- and then turns back away as quickly as he'd turned to face him. ]

There's something. But I can't hear it right. Like it's coming through water, or.

[ A slight tilt of the head, like he's considering his next words. ]

Through all that human muck, more like.

[ His breath stills. He watches Vector's finger come close--dangerously close--to his lapis. And when it stops right before he can touch it, he exhales.

(from ~~disappointment~~ relief.)

(~~he wants Vector to touch his lapis, to let him know he's alive and a Barian and able to feel the light burning in him. he wants Vector's light. he almost reaches for it~~)

Vector's distress (is it distress?) almost puts him at ease, but. Something's wrong with him. And his light. The light that he can't feel or, if he can, it's muffled and gagged. He yearns for it so much that he moves without thinking, and grabs Vector's wrist. ]

!

[ He lets go immediately and takes two steps back. And one more for good measure. ]

Nothing? Muffled?

[ He grips his lapis again and exhales one more time. His light is the brightest. His song the loudest. He couldn't--no--he refuses--

(but he believes)

(it breaks him. more than anything ever could, that his star and his song are so weak that they are almost nonexistent, that he cannot hear them and that makes him. human.) ]

You. You are.

Here.

And.

I hear you.

[ He sinks his teeth in reality, so that he won't let go. ]

[ Mizael moves in and grabs at his wrist and Vector can only stare down at that hand on his arm, can only sneer faintly at the the pale weakness of those human fingers.

And then Mizael is moving away and Vector is...

(disappointed?)

(no - better to be alone to have Mizael's stinking human flesh smearing its filth and its stench across even his Barian shell)

He only watches, for a few moments. Stands there, still - the kind of stillness that tells of a storm to come - and watches, head tilting just a little to listen to Mizael's words. And then all at once he's whirling himself about again, his wings buzzing up behind him like some kind of hellish beetle's carapace. ]

I'm here? Yes.

Yes, I am.

But you? Or Alit?

He was silent too. Not even an echo.

[ Alit, whose star burns the very brightest among those of their constellation.

Alit, who burns so bright that Vector has always wanted to shade his eyes lest he be blinded.

And he'd been silent. As silent and dark as if he were dead; as silent and dark as he'd ever been after Vector's attack.

(for perhaps the first time in his life, Vector feels some little tug in his core of...?)

(--no)

(not that; never that)

(Vector cannot regret, cannot feel remorse; because to allow an emotion like that is to allow a crack to form, and to allow even the slightest weakness is to invite death, to invite oblivion)

(Vector does not fear, but if he did then he would fear oblivion) ]

How do I know you're really here? In front of me?

That you're not - and he wasn't - just in here?

[ He taps sharply at his head, and he stares at Mizael with wild eyes, and he knows deep down in his core that he's playing too much of his hand but--

(Mizael is silent and so was Alit, and so Vector is left alone with only the noises he can make inside his own mind)

(he does not fear anything, and so he's not afraid)

(but if he did, perhaps--) ]

I am hardly a figment of your imagination--

[ But he wonders, too, if this is a dream he can't wake up from. This nightmare that he can't cast away and disregard. Maybe he really is a figment of Vector's imagination and that would be. better.

(better because then this wouldn't be real, and this wouldn't be happening to him)

(but he wants to be real) ]

I'm. Real.

And.

You know because--

[ He moves without thinking again, and he just does, and he blames it on his need for something remotely related to Barian World and not his conscious decision, but.

He steps forward again. And again. And again. And reaches out, slowly, for Vector. He presses his fingers against Vector's skin--the rock that covers his frame, and the feeling of something familiar under his fingers makes him inhale.

That's-- ]

--because I can do this.

[ He brushes his fingers over the gem on his arm. The one embedded in the hand Vector uses to draw. He doesn't quite touch it, just, ghosts his fingers over it. Touches it like he would if he were Barian, and he knows that part of the gem where it's best and--

(he loses his grip on reality. it slides out of his fangs, slips away, runs away, and he isn't sure he wants to give chase)

--he presses down on it. ]

Because I know.

I am real.

[ The lapis across his chest glows, almost shines, just almost there, he can feel it, but it's not there yet.

(not this, this can't be happening, that he would ever do this with Vector, but)

(he yearns for his song, yearns for it so much--)

(he wants Vector to sing)

(sing so he knows he can still understand the stars and that Vector is a star and so is he) ]

This.

Is real.

[ Mizael tells Vector that he's real, and somehow the more he says it the more Vector doubts. The more he wonders. The louder the whispers that come, that ask but is he? until Vector hums with it.

There are fingers on him, then. Small and frail and human and so very alien, and Vector stares down at them and trembles beneath them, though he doesn't pull away. Fingers that ghost over one of his gems and leaves him trembling all the more because-- because those fingers are so close and on some deep level Vector wants. Wants Mizael to touch, but--

But he doesn't know what he'll do, if those filthy human fingers touch him so deeply. Because he could stand Mizael touching, perhaps --

(he couldn't, he couldn't, nobody can touch him because to touch him is to see deep inside him and Vector doesn't dare to even look too hard himself at the deepest depths of his soul, let alone let anyone else in there to see the things he hides even from himself)

-- but those fingers aren't-- this thing before him is not Mizael. Mizael burns in starfire and sings in starlight and this thing before him might have Mizael's mind strapped into its confines but it pulses wetly in its human viscera and it is not Barian as Vector is. It is weak and filthy and he could break it open to see its human muck but never find a single glimmer of starlight in its depths.

Those weak little human fingers come so close and Vector does not know what he'll do if they press down but then they do and--

(he sees stars but in only the most human sense of the word; he reels and he casts out and sings - screams - his very loudest in his core but there are no true stars to echo from here and so it rings out sharp and incomplete, leaves him wanting to gasp for air because it)

(it hurts, for Mizael to put those alien fingers upon him and open him up as he's never allowed anyone to do, and Mizael does not - cannot - even offer a piece of himself to stopper the gap, stop Vector from feeling as though every part of him could bleed out from the spot where those fingers touch)

Vector snarls, and his other hand comes up to grab at this human, at this weak and soft creature that thinks it can touch him because once upon a time it shone with Mizar's light and eventually it will come to again. Wraps his claws around its wrist and stares up at it - stares into eyes, at least, that hold some semblance of the real Mizael - in disgust, in anger, in...

(in the things he doesn't admit to, the things that come in the quiet of night and leave his human flesh soaked with sweat and his starlight flickering all around him but that he doesn't allow himself to ever acknowledge) ]

Don't--

Don't.

[ And still, he can't say he even believes what Mizael is saying.

(because Mizael split him open and those fingers are still on his gem and bleeding him of everything inside but)

(it's not as though Vector has never hurt himself, is it?)

(not as though he's never ~~felt a sword in his chest or fire scorching around him, felt the drip-drip-drip of blood in places that a human body isn't supposed to bleed lest it give itself over to the shackles of death~~--) ]

[ Yes, yes--yes! There it is--the song he yearns for so much. Vector's song fills him, vibrates around his lapis, makes the gem glow and then... and then it shines, and suddenly all at once Mizael can hear it--the stars, the sky, Vector--and he feels so complete, so whole, so himself, that he exhales and moans.

(briefly, he's--Mizar. briefly, the fingers touching Vector are as Barian as Vector is right now, but it's. brief.)

But it stops, and Vector has him, has his soft flesh beneath his harder skin and Mizael wonders, just wonders, if he ever felt that. But he has, hasn't he, because he wants more, now, wants to be drowned in starlight and deafened by song and the only one who can provide that is Vector.

(he sees it, in the other's eyes, and he's so broken and desperate that he's sure it's in his, too)

(he wants Vector to press his claws into his skin, make this body bleed, and see starlight filter from his wounds but he knows it won't, but he can at least hope, for something to happen, to remind him he's Barian) ]

Do you--do you believe in your words?

[ Because Mizael should be ashamed. And he is. But this shame isn't a strong enough dam to hold in all of--this. Whatever this is.

(this being the yearning he feels for a star, any star--and Vector's is here and he can offer and Mizael will make him offer if only that means that he, himself, can offer again)

He splays his hand over the gem, encases it in his human flesh and warmth, encases it in his human need and Barian hum (he can't sing, so he'll hum, and that's better than nothing), and traps it in his mad desperation. His lapis moves, tries to reignite the starfire by taking Vector's, but this human body isn't mean to shine and burn like a Barian does and when Mizar tries to break out of Mizael it hurts.

(it hurts, and he wants more, because then he knows it's still in him and he's still alive and burning, so he wants more) ]

Take my hands and my fingers off of you, then.

Reject me.

[ He holds his lapis with his other hand, digs his fingers into his own gem, digs his fingers into Vector's gem, and exhales. He can feel it, again, that tiny spark that's hidden behind human flesh but not there. And he wants that rush of euphoria again. That rush of--of him, of the red crystals and deafening song, and so he raises his eyes to Vector's--

(sing, Vector. sing) ]

[ Do you believe in your words? Mizael asks, and...

(does he?)

(what does he believe in at all?)

(in barian sekai no tame ni?)

(~~their world will die no matter what they do~~)

(in his hatred for Tsukumo Yuuma, certainly, that vicious anchoring to the reality he builds for himself, but beyond that...)

Mizael is pressing that human flesh to the gem and Vector feels sick but that--

That's human, base and disgusting and wrong, and that-- is that what Mizael is doing? Mizael can't provide him with starlight so he drowns Vector in the stench of him, all human muck and mess, until Vector could choke on it or choke him or--

(reject me, Mizael says, and)

Vector's arms flash up and he's pushing Mizael down, bringing him down low to sit atop him on the ground. Let his human filth drag in the dirt, let him be brought low because doesn't this form bring him low enough as it is? How much lower can Vector even drag this stinking, heavy creature when it used to burn so bright and now must claw at Vector's gems to so much as spark? ]

Reject you?

I'll do more than reject you.

[ He presses claws into the skin of Mizael's face; pressing, testing, but never quite breaking even the fragile human flesh.

(he could split it like tissue paper if he so chose but he does not choose, at least not yet)

(he is not the uncontrolled creature the others believe him to be; Vector is so very, very controlled when he wants to be, and so he presses his claws in to the very limit but never quite breaks the skin) ]

I won't-- I won't reject you. I'll destroy you, Mizael.

I'll...

[ His fingers slip down, slow and dragging, until he's tracing his claws over the gold of Mizael's lapis but never letting them touch the gem itself.

Perhaps if he splits Mizael apart, he'll burn as bright as a human is capable. Perhaps there will come a moment where Mizael burns even half as bright as his star.

(don't the humans look their best in suffering?)

(hadn't Yuuma's agony driven Vector's light into a frenzy, left him singing sharp and loud with his delight so that it echoed from the stars themselves even in Sargasso where they don't shine?)

(doesn't he still thrum with need, doesn't he still ache with being torn away from Sargasso before he could finish the job and destroy Yuuma entirely?)

(he'll channel that into Mizael, then, and perhaps for a moment at least he'll stop feeling so

empty)

(~~would he even know completeness if it came, when that emptiness has plagued him every moment that he can think of?~~)

(~~is that emptiness truly what it means to be Barian?~~) ]

[ more than reject

The words ring in his mind, his brain, through ever fiber of his being as he's pushed down and humiliated. He burns now, burns with excitement and anticipation and yes, yes, do more than reject me, he thinks.

(reject every molecule, every atom, every piece of this body that makes Mizael what he is now--reject him. he wants to reject himself, and he thinks if he does, if his desire to reject this human vessel burns through his flesh and bones, he can break out)

And then Vector's claws are on his face and what Barian pride he has left growls, hisses, wants to tear his hands off and push him down but Mizael is so flesh and meat and human that he doesn't.

(doesn't because he wants Vector to hurt and bleed him like Mizael did to him and will do to him, wants Vector to expose this meat and stench and rip it away from him)

(but Vector says destroy and)

Every part of his body burns and shines (in the most human sense--shines with sweat and not his light) and he gasps as those claws run down his lapis. ]

Destroy me.

[ (destroy every part of him that wants this and needs this) ]

Destroy me and free me.

[ He grabs Vector's wrist, forces his claws onto his gem, squeezes the hard skin beneath his flesh with as much ~~weak~~ force he can muster. He will be destroyed, and he will take it, but he will not be idle. If he can salvage some part of his pride, he will do it.

(but isn't this, isn't submitting to this desire and need and desperation already hurting it?)

(~~can you salvage and destroy at the same time?~~) ]

Rip me apart, or so help me--

--I'll rip you.

[ (~~his threat has no weight~~)

(~~no weight unless Vector does rip him apart~~) ]

weeps silently

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