ataraxionlogs | out flew the web and floated wide

Entry tags:

out flew the web and floated wide

CHARACTERS: Roy Walker [

fallasleep] and anyone who wants to visit him
LOCATION: Medbay
WARNINGS: Suicidal thoughts, depression. The usual with Roy.
SUMMARY: Roy wakes up when he doesn't want to wake up. People visit him.
NOTES: Takes place from 14 Aug to the end of the month. Please put the date down when tagging in, thanks!

[ His eyes are open and he feels cold and he doesn't want either. His throat and chest and stomach ache. Some might think that is a good thing. But pain means he's alive, and that's what Roy doesn't want. He sees the medbay again. He sees his own fingers, curling by his side, and both seem the deepest cruelty anyone can inflict on him.

Roy understands why he lives, though. He hasn't hidden himself well enough. He was too eager. He didn't try his very best to find what he needed. The painkillers should have been stronger. Maybe he should have taken the acid instead of the iodine. Maybe he should have asked for stronger alcohol. Maybe he should have just taken a scalpel instead of... Maybe, maybe, maybe. A thousand of them and no way that he can fix it.

(But he was so desperate. He is still desperate. He will have to try again, as soon as possible. He knows that.)

He stares in front of him. Straight ahead. No matter the sounds, no matter who looks. He simply stares emptily.

His throat hurts. (There's a part of himself that's happy about that.) He can't speak, though he still has his tablet by his side. ]

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[as soon as the doctor deems him strong enough to see visitors, mairon steps forward to take the seat next to the bed. roy does not know him, perhaps never will, but he should know at least, who saved his life. if saved is the term roy wants to use.

he doesn't speak yet. just waits until his presence is noted or acknowledged.]

[ He looks at the stranger out of the corner of his eyes, especially when he comes over and looks at him. Roy stares back down at his hands. He wishes he had found scalpels. It would've killed him quicker. Even if it didn't, at least he would've scars to stare at, to try to pull open, instead of a raw voice and an aching stomach. Like he is a child with stomach flu.

Slowly, he exhales. Tries to stop himself from breathing. Fails. ]

Either you're here to watch me like a sideshow act, or you expect me to thank you. [ Flatly. ] I don't do either.

I do not and I am not. [softly, and mild. he's here to watch roy's reactions, mostly. I expect nothing of you, except to speak, if you wish.

[pause. he reclines back in his seat (just a tad too small for his size) and folds his fingers together.]

You did not hide yourself very well. That is nothing worth thanking.

[ You did not hide yourself very well, he hears the stranger say, and Roy feels angrier than ever. His fingers twitch on the blankets, but he refuses to reach out, refuses to react. ]

You could have done nothing.

[ But his voice betrays him. It cracks, snaps like a thread pulled too hard and wound too tight. He hisses out his breath. Looks down at his hands.

He won't say anything anymore, he promises himself. He won't. ]

Why should I have done nothing? [an idle question. he looks away, expression neutral and void, if not with the slightest hint of a smile.] I am not obliged to give you peace from that which you flee.

[nor is he obliged to save him, yet he did.]

I brought you here because your death might have upset the Elf from whom you received your mead.

[ A beat. Roy blinks, staring blankly. ]

For Thranduil's sake. [ His voice, still rough, cracks at the name. His hands twitches by his side. He doesn't even know this man's name, and somehow he knows that Roy is important to Thranduil.

Roy is important to him. To someone. Unbidden, involuntarily, hope nudges at his heart, and Roy can't even find the strength to quash it. It doesn't matter that he means nothing to this man - that's what he wants - but for him to save Roy for Thranduil's sake is...

It's a strange thing, to imagine himself being important enough to be talked about. Important enough to be missed. ]

Not for his sake. [he does not care for the elf any more than he cares for roy. but that doesn't matter, because caring is not the reason why he does anything. (doesn't know if he's even capable of caring for anything anymore beyond perceived worth and apparent usefulness.)] For my sake.

[he takes a moment before looking back at roy, gaze steady and curious, but not openly so.

..But also for his sake, and of those who care for you. [because it is of benefit to me. but he does not say it, because it looks as if he's touched upon something. something that can't hurt to pursue, perhaps.] Did you think there were none?

[ Roy is a cynical bastard. He wants to be that most of all; to hold onto his view of the world where there is nothing good and everything is bad and the only reason for relationships is to make use of each other. Now he finds that slipping, and the voice growing louder.

There is still goodness in the world, it whispers. Something to live for. People who care about you.

He doesn't want to listen. It's easier to believe that he's being manipulated; that he's lying. But Roy finds himself staring at his hands, all words lost to his tongue because they are busy battling each other in his mind.

When he finally speaks (after at least three minutes of silence), he changes the subject. ]

What is your name?

[mairon observes, quietly. he should be more considerate-- another person might. but he is no other person and he has no reason to be considerate or courteous. he doesn't want to wear a mask, here.

just lets roy make what he will of what he hears.

if he is surprised at the change of subject he says nothing of it, and decides to play along. he came here to talk, after all. whatever roy would like (is able) to talk about.]

I was called Mairon, once.

[called. not named.]

[ Despite how his behaviour might cause people to judge otherwise, Roy really isn't a stupid person. He knows what the phrasing means; he just doesn't care enough to take note of it. (The funny thing is that he should be aware that Mairon might be manipulating him as well, given how guarded he seems, but Roy isn't up to such critical evaluations right now.

He lifts his shoulders instead. ]

It sounds like a name for a woman.

[... that's not something he hears often. almost funny.]

It has the meaning of 'admirable' in one of the Elven languages. Fitting for a woman, perhaps. I am not exactly a Man. [only chosen the form of one, for propriety's sake. leaving it vague is easier than explaning how a spirit has no gender.]

I have heard them call you Roy Walker. [although you cannot walk. a bit of irony in that name, isn't there.]

Roy. [ He snaps the word out. Oh, he knows the irony of his last name alright. ] Just Roy.

[ There's a long pause, and he stares at Mairon for a long, long moment more. ]

What are you, if you're not a man?

[ Not a man, not a woman... Somewhere in between? Roy doesn't know if he's actually curious or he's asking for the sake of having conversation to pass the time. ]

Just Roy, then.

[what is he indeed, if he is not a man? there are all manners of answers he could give in response, and none of them entirely the truth. but why not tell a truth? why not tell a lie?

he leans towards roy on one of the arm rests, contemplative.]

..A ghost, shall we say? A spirit, clothed in flesh of my own making.

[simply put.]

[ Roy barks a laugh, hoarse and mirthless. ]

You sound like one of those carnival cheats. [ Wryly. He cocks his head to the side. But then again, isn't it possible? He's heard of so much strangeness on this ship; so what is another one?

He lifts his shoulder. Lets it down. A lazy man's version of a shrug. ]

Sure, if that's how you want to define yourself. [ He makes a soft hum. ] But things like that tends to have a single word to describe them.

[ Now have a raised eyebrow. ]

[what's a carnival, is it edible.]

We have a word among ourselves, but it is little used now. Others call us the Ainur. The Holy Ones. [he quirks a smile.] Very charming of them.

[no, he doesn't think so at all. the contemporary phrase would be a shit-eating grin. but less obnoxious and vile.]

[ Roy stares at him for a long moment before he bursts out laughing. Genuine amusement, but even that is tainted by darkness, by helpless disbelief. ]

Are you telling me, Mairon, that I was saved by a god?

[ God has never listened to him. Ever. It will be the greatest irony that one of them - one who managed to get himself trapped on this ship at that - finally interfere, and interferes with what Roy doesn't want. ]

[a god. it's funny, always, how that term is thrown around. how many meanings it has and the weight that it holds.]

If that is how you wish to see it. [he shrugs, with a sliver of a smile. he does not consider a god as they define one, but if it is the easiest explanation, there is no reason to deny it.] I only did what others would have done. Is that such a strange thing?

There are plenty who wouldn't have done what you did. Who would've done the sensible thing and left me alone there.

[ There's fire in his voice, and honestly, he can't. ]

What will you do if I tell you that your act of decency is actually one of cruelty instead? [ He barks a laugh. ]

What do you want from Thranduil, that you will do something like this for him?

[what would he do? hah. he almost laughs. cruelty instead of decency. cruelty to save a life rather than let it end.

(how many lives had they left hanging in the depths of utumno, twisted and corrupted rather than dead and free?)]

Something like this? You are not the only one I have kept from death that wished to die. [he leans closer, elbow on the edge of the mattress, fingers laced.] I am not doing this for anyone but myself, for I am too selfish to do anything sensible.

[ I am too selfish, Roy hears, and he blinks. And he laughs, a dark little thing, because there it is.

There it is. ]

So all that you said about Thranduil is just a lie, then. [ He looks at Mairon from underneath his lashes. ] Or is it that you want him to owe you something?

[ Still. Still, even though Mairon might be selfish, it remains that somehow Roy is an important enough person to Thranduil that someone would save him even though Roy himself doesn't want it.

It's easier to think that this just means that his own wishes are unimportant than any other implication. ]

How do I make it worth your while to kill me? [ Idly. ] It'll be easy, won't it?

I have said it already. I do not do this for him, and I want nothing from him. [though, admittedly, the idea that the elf would owe him anything is a pleasant thought. for another day.

roy's insistence about dying does little to perturb him, though he does find it odd, truly. never has he seen a man so set on his own death.]

No, it will not be. I have no reason to kill you, or let you die. [evenly, as if to emphasize the fact that he is a bit more than human.] I do not think anything you can say or do would change my mind.

[ Maybe it's that Roy has looked death head-on and wants him with all that he has. Maybe that's how he finds his courage to reach out, grabbing Mairon by the collar- by whatever that he can reach, clenching his fingers around the cloth and staring deep into those brightly inhuman eyes. ]

Your logic doesn't make sense. [ His voice is so tense that it has turned rough. ] To save someone, you need to do something.

You can't save anyone by the lack of desire to do so.

[ He knows what Mairon has said. But then- but then, if Roy pays attention and takes into acount what others say, then he won't be here in this hospital bed, will he? ]

[roy is lucky that mairon is at this moment mairon, and not sauron. not gorthaur the cruel, who might have left him with two less hands. inhuman is one way to put it, the way he stares back evenly, unperturbed, older than logic and just as ageless.]

Not having the desire to do something does not mean I cannot or will not do it. [a quiet warning as well. just because he has no reason to kill roy does not mean he cannot, or would not. and for a moment his gaze and tone softens.]

What words would you hear, Roy? That your death would not be overlooked, that many here would mourn your passing? That I saved you because I do not wish to see them in despair? [eyes narrowed.] That I would use your life to bargain for their favour? You will not hear such things from me.

[..well. it's not entirely untrue. but not entirely true, either.]

Edited 2013-10-07 07:57 (UTC)

[ Roy finds his breath stopping from his throat, instinctively cringing back- and the reaction doesn't make sense. Because Mairon is now threatening to kill him. Maim him, even. And isn't that what he wants? Doesn't he crave death so badly that he seeks for it himself? Why does Mairon's death cause him fear?

Roy doesn't know. He has no answers, not even for himself, and all he can do is to turn his head away and stare at the wall. He knows Mairon is there, but what more there is to say? Roy has exhausted his arguments, and he knows- knows in a way that's entirely instinctive, entirely like that the clenching fear he just felt.

There's no way he can win an argument with Mairon. No way possible for him to even understand.

When he finally speaks, it's empty words: ]

I'm not a man for gods, or even spirits.

[he watches carefully the way roy reacts. the man who wishes death fears it-- or perhaps, fears being unable to deliver it unto himself.

he doesn't leave, doesn't move save for leaning back in his seat. a strange man, roy walker.]

And I am not a god, or a spirit, for men, nor am I a god at all. It was Men like you who named me a such a thing. If you are not a man for gods, then do not think of me as one.

[food for thought. his job here is done, he thinks, what he intended to do anyway. mind games. wants to see what else roy has to say, but it seems like he's said enough.]

14th

after simon, before anyone else

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SO LATE. I'm sorry bb ;_;

IT'S OKAY i owe you tags from like ages ago. also why is that tag missing html lkjasdh

i have no idea. i didn't even notice HAHAHAH

SEE THIS IS A LATE TAG oops subjects

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