[pls hold he is slightly startled by a stranger calling him motherfucker in what doesn't seem like a hostile way]
Why?
Why?
Hi, Edwin.
...thank you. I -
You did a really good job.
...thank you. I -
You did a really good job.
[Uncertain but hopeful:] Are you free again?
There is a knock on Edwin's door.
Edwin was reading while balancing his crown on his stuffed animal Flapjack in his own brand shiny new conversation pit, but he drifts over to the door and opens it, thinking either something has gone awry or it's JD.
He's glad it's the latter. "Hello brother."
He's glad it's the latter. "Hello brother."
[Voice]
[When he reaches out, Jedao's voice is soft and gentle.]
How are you doing, sweetheart?
[When he reaches out, Jedao's voice is soft and gentle.]
How are you doing, sweetheart?
[ His crown is almost healed, now--he can't see where there's still a kind of gold ooze in the remaining cracks, but he can feel the bits of thin-ness in his being.
He also can't emerge fully yet. He can hear Jedao's voice, he knows it's from his communicator, and he can fumble a few weak tentacles out to type, but it's annoying.]
I m sio bored
He also can't emerge fully yet. He can hear Jedao's voice, he knows it's from his communicator, and he can fumble a few weak tentacles out to type, but it's annoying.]
I m sio bored
[From here.
Hi Edwin. I saw the conversation you were having with Dr Sheehan on the network. I hope you don't mind me calling to talk about it.
Hi Edwin. I saw the conversation you were having with Dr Sheehan on the network. I hope you don't mind me calling to talk about it.
[ He sends a message first, mostly because he's not sure how things will go. When there's no answer, he's heading for Edwin's room and knocking. ]
Unfortunately, there's no immediate answer when John knocks. Edwin is pretty sure he hears a thump, but his senses are still painfully limited with his crown unhealed or whatever the process is. Even if he knew that it was a knock, he wouldn't be able to answer it. He can barely spin threads out of its base.
At least John will be able to come in, if he tries the door?
At least John will be able to come in, if he tries the door?
Edited 2024-01-29 02:10 (UTC)
[ He had made a promise and despite the unique circumstances, he intended to deliver. That's why right after they lift off from the port, Edwin will find a little box wrapped in ribbon just outside of his cabin door. And in that box, in rainbow colored paper, he will find a beautiful wood and brass device, complete with a little display stand as well, and engraved with a message in English and one in a language that is far more sinister in appearance, at least.
The English reads: To my brother: something new and beautiful you can bring with you anywhere.
And there's a little note in the box that explains:
Make sure there is plenty of light. Then put your eye to the dark end, look through, and turn it. ]
The English reads: To my brother: something new and beautiful you can bring with you anywhere.
And there's a little note in the box that explains:
Make sure there is plenty of light. Then put your eye to the dark end, look through, and turn it. ]
[ He is so, so glad to be back on the ship. He goes to each floor to pat the wall and tell her that it's good to see her, just in case barge doesn't hear it the first time. He didn't hate this port, didn't hate what he was, but it's still unsettling and a little nauseating to think about, being trapped in a form someone else chose and subject to lethargy to keep him out of trouble. Still better than being a human.
When he finally gets to his room, he picks the box up very carefully and carries it inside, captivated without knowing what it could possibly be. But it's from his brother. That's immediately obvious. Which already makes it special.
When Edwin follows the instructions that come with it and looks through, he gasps, captivated by the shift and clink and change in patterns and colors. They're arresting, almost hideous sometimes but in a way he would find breathtaking if he breathed. Like each turn of the little cylinder shows him a piece of a stained-glass window from somewhere he's never seen.
He probably spends a good few hours pointing the kaleidoscope in various directions and at various light sources and turning it slowly, but eventually--once it has a place of honor next to several New Year's presents and Jedao's stolen, glittery, slightly pink-tinted sock--Edwin goes in search of his brother. He wants to reassure himself that the life without JD that he just came from doesn't feel more real than what's real this time.]
When he finally gets to his room, he picks the box up very carefully and carries it inside, captivated without knowing what it could possibly be. But it's from his brother. That's immediately obvious. Which already makes it special.
When Edwin follows the instructions that come with it and looks through, he gasps, captivated by the shift and clink and change in patterns and colors. They're arresting, almost hideous sometimes but in a way he would find breathtaking if he breathed. Like each turn of the little cylinder shows him a piece of a stained-glass window from somewhere he's never seen.
He probably spends a good few hours pointing the kaleidoscope in various directions and at various light sources and turning it slowly, but eventually--once it has a place of honor next to several New Year's presents and Jedao's stolen, glittery, slightly pink-tinted sock--Edwin goes in search of his brother. He wants to reassure himself that the life without JD that he just came from doesn't feel more real than what's real this time.]
Jedao knocks on Edwin's door.
"Hi, sweetheart, it's Jedao. Are you here?"
"Hi, sweetheart, it's Jedao. Are you here?"
Edited 2024-02-17 01:09 (UTC)
He's read his file. Or rather, he's read a chunk of his file. Hunter gave it to him to go through if he wanted to, and he did, mostly to see how Hunter misread his origins that dramatically.
Turns out, Hunter did not misread his origins.
He's not in his blobby--he hasn't been since he got back to his cabin, feeling strange inhabiting something that... undignified. Knowing he likes it.
He is the King in Yellow. He is the actual, real King in Yellow. A god.
A damaged, shorn, weak god in the grips of one more powerful than he could hope to be in his current state. He knows this now. But he still feels like Edwin.
Edwin is not a king's name.
He stirs from the absolute stillness he was floating in above his conversation pit when he hears Jedao's greeting.
"Enter." It's... not imperious. He can't manage imperious. But it's formal, anyway.
Turns out, Hunter did not misread his origins.
He's not in his blobby--he hasn't been since he got back to his cabin, feeling strange inhabiting something that... undignified. Knowing he likes it.
He is the King in Yellow. He is the actual, real King in Yellow. A god.
A damaged, shorn, weak god in the grips of one more powerful than he could hope to be in his current state. He knows this now. But he still feels like Edwin.
Edwin is not a king's name.
He stirs from the absolute stillness he was floating in above his conversation pit when he hears Jedao's greeting.
"Enter." It's... not imperious. He can't manage imperious. But it's formal, anyway.
[Continued from here!]
It takes Hunter about fifteen minutes to come back. Most of it is spent in the shower, cleaning the blood off until the smell goes away. It doesn't take long, but. He just needs a minute to percolate. Get his head back together.
When he comes back to Edwin's room, he knocks.
"Edwin? It's me. I'd- is it alright if I come in?"
It takes Hunter about fifteen minutes to come back. Most of it is spent in the shower, cleaning the blood off until the smell goes away. It doesn't take long, but. He just needs a minute to percolate. Get his head back together.
When he comes back to Edwin's room, he knocks.
"Edwin? It's me. I'd- is it alright if I come in?"
There's no immediate answer--Yellow doesn't actually hear the knock. He's still in his crown, right where Hunter left him.
Retaliation for being tortured and killed, couple of weeks after
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
onlyhearmusic
2024-03-03 02:13 am (UTC)(link)
Collins never told his warden who had killed him and he didn't know that Yellow told his own warden or it didn't make enough of a difference to him to stop his plan for retaliation. Getting a hold of the entity's crown and smashing it didn't seem all that challenging much less satisfactory but after some deliberation the Butcher came up with a much better idea. He hadn't seen the little ball of a body that the creature had gotten lately but he knew it existed and that it had brought joy to the entity. Now it was time to take that joy away.
The Butcher waited till he knew with absolute certainty that Yellow was away from his room without the body and that the hallway was clear--then he made his way to the door and, using makeshift tools, carefully picked the lock. He was practiced in getting into places where he was not invited so it only took him a matter of seconds to unlawfully gain access to the room. He slipped inside and shut the door behind him.
He paused to take in the sight. He hadn't been inside many other rooms on board the ship honestly and he hadn't known what to expect really. It wasn't this. However, it didn't take him long to spot the blob sitting in the conversation pit area, oddly covered up with a blanket that only haphazardly did the job. He would have guessed it was to protect it if guessed rather than hide it from view. It didn't matter. It was what he was looking for.
He threw back the blanket and took the body in his hands. It felt odd to touch even through his gloves and Collins made a disgusted face. He was quick to depart after that, keeping the entity's hollow body hidden from others by stuffing it into a bag. Once he had left the room with lock engaged as if nothing had ever happened the Butcher headed out to the deck. He searched for the perfect spot days ago and thus knew exactly where to throw the repulsive thing in his bag off the side of the ship. He had even practiced with a few items he thought might fit the shape and weight of the body when it was not in use so that he knew he could make it past the nets.
There was no preamble. The Butcher didn't waste time so he could get caught in the act. He simply took the bag off his shoulder and tossed it over the railing. He watched with satisfaction as it fell well beyond the protective netting and past the point where his eye could see it any longer. He leaned against the railing with a small smile curling his lips, waiting five, ten minutes just to be certain. The thing was gone for good as far as he could tell.
With a tune on his lips, Collins went back to his regular day.
The Butcher waited till he knew with absolute certainty that Yellow was away from his room without the body and that the hallway was clear--then he made his way to the door and, using makeshift tools, carefully picked the lock. He was practiced in getting into places where he was not invited so it only took him a matter of seconds to unlawfully gain access to the room. He slipped inside and shut the door behind him.
He paused to take in the sight. He hadn't been inside many other rooms on board the ship honestly and he hadn't known what to expect really. It wasn't this. However, it didn't take him long to spot the blob sitting in the conversation pit area, oddly covered up with a blanket that only haphazardly did the job. He would have guessed it was to protect it if guessed rather than hide it from view. It didn't matter. It was what he was looking for.
He threw back the blanket and took the body in his hands. It felt odd to touch even through his gloves and Collins made a disgusted face. He was quick to depart after that, keeping the entity's hollow body hidden from others by stuffing it into a bag. Once he had left the room with lock engaged as if nothing had ever happened the Butcher headed out to the deck. He searched for the perfect spot days ago and thus knew exactly where to throw the repulsive thing in his bag off the side of the ship. He had even practiced with a few items he thought might fit the shape and weight of the body when it was not in use so that he knew he could make it past the nets.
There was no preamble. The Butcher didn't waste time so he could get caught in the act. He simply took the bag off his shoulder and tossed it over the railing. He watched with satisfaction as it fell well beyond the protective netting and past the point where his eye could see it any longer. He leaned against the railing with a small smile curling his lips, waiting five, ten minutes just to be certain. The thing was gone for good as far as he could tell.
With a tune on his lips, Collins went back to his regular day.
Yes. Please. [E m b a r r a s s e d.] Th-thank you.
[ It's a little after he's had his time with Arthur, after Arthur's gone off to take care of Una and Sheehan, that he picks up his communicator. ]
Did you and Hunter do all right?
Did you and Hunter do all right?
[A fumble, a tumble of video as the communicator drops, and then a feline face shoved close to the screen.]
He showed me light glyphs!
He showed me light glyphs!
[ He's on the way to his own room when he sees Edwin leave Arthur's room and crown-with-tentacle-fabric or not, he can see the dejection. Which means he Has To Do Something. Detective John on the case. ]
Edwin?
[ From his own door.
Give him a second. Let him come to you. ]
Edwin?
[ From his own door.
Give him a second. Let him come to you. ]
Oh, brother--
[AWKWARDDDDDD. He stops between Arthur's door and John's, looks back at where he came from, clears his nonexistent throat.]
I... hi.
[AWKWARDDDDDD. He stops between Arthur's door and John's, looks back at where he came from, clears his nonexistent throat.]
I... hi.
Two years they've been - out. Two years, and in some ways they're both so young, even if parts of them are older. But Jeia settled the day after their desperate drive away from the facility, so - Jedao is an adult, in a way that Edwin and Marigold aren't. The identities Jedao created for them, the ones that give him the most right to murder anyone who tries to touch his boy - it doesn't matter if people give them weird looks. It matters, that they're a family. So: father and son.
Jedao doesn't really believe it's possible to live a lie. How you live is how you live. He took on the role of a math teacher, so he is one. He brought Edwin out into the world, and he's kept him, so he's his father.
And weekends, usually, are just for them.
"Good morning, sunshine."
Jedao doesn't really believe it's possible to live a lie. How you live is how you live. He took on the role of a math teacher, so he is one. He brought Edwin out into the world, and he's kept him, so he's his father.
And weekends, usually, are just for them.
"Good morning, sunshine."
Edited 2024-03-24 05:51 (UTC)
He squints into wakefulness at the sound of Jedao's voice, lifting both hands to rub his eyes and then rub his face and then comb his fingers through his hair to scoop the mouse-shaped Marigold into his hands. She grumbles and knots back into a ball.
"Morning starlight." He's still sleepy, but it never lasts long when he remembers it's a Saturday.
"Morning starlight." He's still sleepy, but it never lasts long when he remembers it's a Saturday.
[ John's had a few days of getting his brain in order. Thus, it's time to check on Edwin. ]
Hey. Everything all right after the breach?
Hey. Everything all right after the breach?
[He's still staying in Jedao's cabin, for the most part--in fact he's pretty much camped out except to check on his plants, marinating in a cocktail of anxiety over whether he should try to message John or if he should wait for John to message him and what to do if John didn't and--
Which is why there's a slight thud as he fumbles for his communicator, turns it on, and drops it off the couch before following it to the floor.]
Y-yes. Hi.
Which is why there's a slight thud as he fumbles for his communicator, turns it on, and drops it off the couch before following it to the floor.]
Y-yes. Hi.
It won't be immediate.
He made his feelings known at the time, and so had Edwin. And with that kind of dismissal, he'd needed some time to collect himself, to wrangle the complicated feelings he had.
None of those feelings are reflected in the question.
Satisfied?
He made his feelings known at the time, and so had Edwin. And with that kind of dismissal, he'd needed some time to collect himself, to wrangle the complicated feelings he had.
None of those feelings are reflected in the question.
Satisfied?
Do you actually care if I am? Or are you trying to make a point?
There's a coldness in it that's never been there before, ever.
There's a coldness in it that's never been there before, ever.
Hi, Sunshine.
I talked to Malcolm. Do you want me to come over to chat about it?
I talked to Malcolm. Do you want me to come over to chat about it?
Malcolm goes to Edwin's cabin. He has a large book under his arm. Not particularly thick, but about a foot square. It's full of large, glossy pictures of animals from all over the world. Sort of a coffee table book. It's from his own cabin, not from the Library.
He knocks on Edwin's door.
He knocks on Edwin's door.
He's getting better at opening his door from the stool placed next to it, since he can't pop out of his new cardinal-red blobby to reach the handle. His preferred shape with this one tends to be fox-like, with tentacles tails and largely useless cardinal wings. A mishmash homage to Jedao and Hunter and Flapjack and, in a way, himself.
He should probably be more cautious, given what he did to Richter, but mostly he's curious. And then wide-eyed with surprise when it's Malcolm.
"H-Hello."
He should probably be more cautious, given what he did to Richter, but mostly he's curious. And then wide-eyed with surprise when it's Malcolm.
"H-Hello."
Hey, Edwin. Can I ask you for a huge favour?
Me? [He still glances behind him just in case.] Um-- If I can do it, s-sure.
Edwin. It's, er. It's John's birthday tomorrow. I was wondering if you- wanted to try and help me organise something small for him?
It's-- [!!!!!!!]
I-I completely-- I can't believe I-- I got the folder, the file, for my, and I forgot-- Yes, yes I want to do something, I even know what he'd like, we talked about it.
I-I completely-- I can't believe I-- I got the folder, the file, for my, and I forgot-- Yes, yes I want to do something, I even know what he'd like, we talked about it.
There's an unfamiliar face in the kennels. It's a man with perpetual babyface, a constantly tapping foot, and a pre-war suit and tie. Noel has found himself a bit overwhelmed actually by all the Everything of the barge, and has retreated to somewhere quieter and less obviously in outer space.
Theoretically he's knitting. Practically he's rescuing his knitting over and over from the kittens, and he is so okay with that.
Theoretically he's knitting. Practically he's rescuing his knitting over and over from the kittens, and he is so okay with that.
Edwin has been Coming To Visit The Puppies, agonizing over who he's going to take with him. When he sees the stranger messing with knitting, wearing clothes that look old by human standards, he pauses in a mix of hesitation and curiosity. ...He can't help smiling as the stranger patiently shepherds kittens away from his yarn.
"Are you a new person or a visitor?"
"Are you a new person or a visitor?"
[ She turns on communicator mid breath out. ]
Hey, you okay? You and Faroe get in all right? How are you doing? Sorry I couldn't ask earlier. You, or Faroe, need anything?
Hey, you okay? You and Faroe get in all right? How are you doing? Sorry I couldn't ask earlier. You, or Faroe, need anything?
I'm fine. Faroe is asleep. John is with her. I don't think we need anything.
[ a letter written on lovely paper with a rainbow sheen on the edging, in ink that shimmers between purple, blue, and a deep green, which comes rolled up into a scroll and sealed with a golden wax mark that holds a pot with a small 'plant' of origami lilys. ]
I'm going to write this knowing you won't want to read it. You'll get angry as soon as you read that. This too. But you'll come back because at the end of it, we are a curious being. We crave the satisfaction of understanding.
Even when it hurts.
I'm going to guess at this stage of things that you've decided I 'chose' Charlie over you. Arthur has probably gone to talk to you because I told him nothing and he can't leave well enough alone. I hope it didn't go too poorly. He loves you but he can be brusque when he's upset. I hope Jedao has given you comfort. I won't talk to him about this, just as I didn't talk to Arthur. You deserve to have people hear and understand your side of things.
I don't think you understand mine. But I'm going to try here, where you can shout about how I'm a fucking fool all you want without me interrupting.
I refuse to choose, and I refuse to choose even if it means my death. I would rather not exist than choose.
Because choosing *is* death.
There is no winning in choosing between the people you love. There is no way for love to grow or deepen or to keep loving if one has to choose between the people one has already chosen to love.
Because even for the one you pick, they will never stop asking even if they don't do it out loud. Every person you love becomes their competition. Every new potential person to love a danger. And the love you would have with anyone else has to be carefully groomed and maintained exactly in a certain way or that person you picked will begin to be afraid. And how can you do something that makes the person you love afraid? The picked person won't be able to form meaningful bonds or love with any of those people you're carefully maintaining a distance or even anyone else for fear of losing your favor. And all of this leads to resentment. And resentment from both, to both, eventually destroys love.
Leaving you alone. All you did was hurt everyone involved, everyone you wanted to love. I don't want that, for you or for me.
Back again? Thank you.
You think I don't understand, but I do.
When you showed up, I had so much anxiety. I had so much fear. You hadn't tricked Arthur, you hadn't blinded him. He asked for 'you' even though he didn't know it at the time. He was angry and frustrating and awful to you but he was those things with me too. And you didn't kill people he loved. You didn't ruin his life. You didn't take everything from him. You learned so quickly and with people already used to me, most people were kind and sweet, and those that weren't were outrightly so. You were bold and you did things that I only grumbled to myself about, asked things I wanted to know but was too cautious to. Arthur wanted to apologize to you, felt an obligation to you, wanted to help you and from where I sat, you hadn't done anything to earn it but, apparently, be better than me.
Jedao adopted you, gave you his name.
I had to find my own.
When Sheehan told Arthur he was in love with him, it was fine. But when Arthur returned that love, I thought he'd choose Sheehan over me too. I thought my world was over. I thought it was proof that I was a nice project, someone Arthur felt bad for at best, needed at worst. That Arthur cared for me but now that he had someone real, someone who was a person, a whole body, who had a life and a parents and was normal, that he'd be done with me. He didn't need to be alone now and he had someone better.
But then we talked. And he told me that there's all kinds of love, and that the love he has for me and the love he has for Sheehan are different but they're both love. Just like there's all kinds of poets and all kinds of songs and all kinds of stories and all kinds of art. And none of them can replace the other. You can want to read or listen to one or another at different times but they're all beautiful. They're all wonderful. If you love them, if you choose them, they're all a part of you. And loving people is like that. That's when I got to stop being afraid. So I want to share this lesson with you.
Because this sucks. I know this sucks. Feeling this sucks. Being afraid like this sucks. This situation sucks. This very situation is one of the reasons I never wanted you to have to hold the King's memories. Because I want you to be as free from who he was as you can. And I wish it was easy or simple to make Charlie understand, but unfortunately the King pulled a lot of bullshit with fucking with people's head, so it's going to take time. I'm working on it. Because I think you'll both be happier once he can accept the King is dead.
It's the only way to make him more dead, after all.
I love you, Edwin. I love you so much that I need to make a new word to describe the way I love you.
And I'm going to bet that when you heard me tell you all the times I chose to love you, you thought that I was pulling up some list of reasons you owe me and why you should do what I want and stop being upset.
That is not what I was saying.
I was trying to tell you all the times I chose to love you. I was trying to remind you all the times when I just loved you and didn't choose and didn't let choosing get in the way of loving you. That loving you or not loving you has always been a choice that's about you and me and no one else. That no one can destroy my feelings for you.
I don't know about vice versa. That's not my decision to make. But that's how I feel.
If you think you ruined anything, you didn't. Not with me.
If you think I regret anything I've ever done to love you, I don't. Not one bit. I'd do it all again. In a heartbeat.
If you think I'm angry at you, I'm not. I'm hurt.
If you think hurting me is a terrible sin and you're terrible for doing it, you aren't. Hurting is what happens when you love someone like we love each other. It's not the end of the world.
I feel... hollow. Empty.
I slept for the first time just to stop being conscious for a while. I was still afraid but I couldn't handle thinking anymore. Feeling anymore.
Don't feel guilty about that. I don't want that.
I don't know how to end this except to say I miss you and that I love you and that I *am* here whenever you're ready.
Your loving brother,
John
Edited 2024-07-13 16:48 (UTC)
Hi Edwin! I just saw B's post but... I don't really feel.... I mean last time I asked him to help me with something important, he kind of threw me under the bus afterwards, like the popular kid that's talking to you about a shared interest but suddenly shoves you into the lockers if someone sees you together. Not here nor there; I know a lot of people think he's the greatest, but... if Will and I both go into a coma or get sick or something... I was hoping you could be our backup backup person... you know, after each other... to look after our animals for us. We still have the two dogs - Winston and Buster - and the two snakes - Sinn and Star - and the parakeet, Sunshine. I'd feel a lot more confident and comfortable if it were you.
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