damned_institute | Day 61: Recreation Field (Shift 2)

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Day 61: Recreation Field (Shift 2)

Loki wasn't entirely thrilled about returning to the recreation field, though he supposed it would be nicer during the day. And without the annoying presence of Riku. Some fresh air would likely do him good; that was what Sif and Thor had always claimed right before they dragged him out of the library.

He wasn't entirely certain if that was a pleasant thought or not. It was still far too mixed up and painful.

He was allowed to go back to his room and pull out every bit of warm clothing he had, bundling up as much as he could. As he followed the nurse out into the field, he also wondered if this meant he would miss out on the greenhouse, since he'd arranged to meet Soma after lunch. That had priority, of course, but he did find plants interesting. At least it was good to know there were activities they were forced to participate in during the day that weren't as horrifically painful as, say, what the music room would indicate.

Good to know that as prisons went, it wasn't all just torture, torture, torture. Some variation was good for the mind.

He wandered along the crunchy, dead grass, for now steering clear of the few other patients. The air felt much better during the day, smelled much better to him as well as he sniffed at it. even if it was cold enough to make his nose hurt. It reminded him uncomfortably of Jotunheim, and...

But at least here, there was sunlight. He wasn't trapped in that dark place as sometimes was in his nightmares.

Loki stopped about halfway down the field, tilting his head back to take in the thin sunlight, his eyes slipping shut.

[Here, angel angel angel... :D Castiel!]

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A reply soldier-made, and his brother, albeit quiet, responded plainly. Clearly. And it was like that, then. In the way considered with derision last night, it happened just like that. Something slid into place, a mental flow unblocked, a wall built and taken down. “You understand, then…” he said first without context. When he went on, it seemed the unfinished sentence was forgotten.

“If you won’t, then you’re forgiven. You don’t have to do anything for me to gain it. Just never say it again. Ever.” That Nigredo wanted to die. That he wanted to disappear. That it’d be easier if he were gone. “You don’t want to die. I believe you.” A beat held out, an irony acknowledged. Less for the fact of the opposite sentiment, and more for the low likelihood of this situation. Of Albedo’s next words. “I have faith that you’ll stay.”

A quiet thrum passed, and Albedo wondered at it, wondered what was the cause until he realized, almost idly that he was shaking, and severely. Oh. This was-- “You understand, then?” he repeated, and there was more desperation in the words. “You understand that you can’t leave, you can’t--”

If Nigredo left now, anything that remained of Albedo’s self would be consumed. He had tried, repeatedly, to love what would not stay, and he had shattered time and again for it. This was the last time he could sustain himself. If Nigredo broke away, Albedo would not be able to repeat the attempt with any other. His mind, as noted two nights ago, a day ago, was far too delicate for anything else. He was still shaking. He wondered when he would stop. “You have to stay with me.”

The fine shards of Nigredo's attention narrowed on his brother the instant acknowledgement was given. For a moment, he wondered on rationalizations, the willingness of this one to place forgiveness without time and a need fulfilled. It was not wise to question mercy, perhaps, but Nigredo would hold to the thought once more: the willingness to abandon was a great sin in their eyes, second to abandonment itself. And Albedo would present absolution on the condition of a vow only.

Still. "Alright," he murmured, even as he didn't quite understand.

Comprehension came in the form of a body shaking, a brother in the throes of reactions and a wordless sentiment. Here, it seemed to make sense. He could see--near detail--how much the placement of faith was costing Albedo. How much, in truth, he needed Nigredo. The younger knew well, perhaps as much as the other, that the consequence of betrayal would result in more than just his own death; he would, in fact, affect another's life as well.

His answer did not change. It would not change no matter what passed between them at this moment. But Nigredo deemed himself more resolute, calmer in the face of his choices. The variant squeezed a shoulder with one hand, the other sliding through white hair in intervals. "I will not betray you. I won't leave." Even at the threat of rejection, Nigredo would keep himself. "I want to stay beside you, Albedo."

Betrayal and abandonment. Nigredo spoke of both in the span of a breath. If not for the hands on him, the firm grip and gentle motions, Albedo might have broke at the words. As it was, there still existed that weakness. That all-consuming pain. He swallowed audibly, and exhaled on a high-pitched laugh, full of nerves. One could promise the world, but in the end--

But that wasn't right. It wasn't right, because Nigredo... Albedo had said it, Nigredo had said it that day, it was only that.... Nigredo was not Rubedo. Nigredo wanted to stay. He wouldn't leave.

Albedo blinked as if startled, mouth opening in a little 'o' of surprise before his skin flushed. Instead of responding, the boy laid his head against his brother's shoulder, breathing softly against skin. Nigredo's words echoed and held, and Albedo gave into those sensations. "...What else do you want?" the boy finally asked. "I'll give you what you desire." Not for a trade or a balance, but for the pure and simple fact that Albedo wished for Nigredo to be content. Something like happy. He wasn't sure if either of them could be, in full, but the possibility laid bare, and Albedo.... Albedo wanted to be the one who made his brother happy.

Laughter in that pitch from this source hinted at misgivings. Nigredo froze, muscles steeling on instinct. A part still waited for rejection, the absence of belief; he would remind himself faith was not an easy aspect to gain. They had perhaps lost that chance, and in the end, they were merely fooling themselves.

No rejection came, however. All that arose was a question, mirrored in need, more complicated than he was willing to convey. Nigredo continued his motions and gave no answers for a minute, more out of surprise than deliberation. He hadn't known to expect it.

"I want a lot of things," he finally muttered in reluctance, as if the reiteration bordered on shameful. "You gave me some of them." Love and acceptance when he lacked entirely, even when both would prove temporary. Especially when he did not deserve them. Eased his mind with potentials when he had thought to reach an impasse with Rubedo or life. Albedo had been generous.

And Nigredo was suddenly crying. Without explanation. Tears lined the boy's eyelids as pressure built against the walls in his head. "That's enough, Albedo." More than enough. "I'm happy with what I have."

Albedo quieted under his brother's ministrations, and leaned into him, two colored opposites trying to fill spaces the other lacked. There was a hyper-awareness within him despite the apparent languidly of form. He was waiting. Waiting perfectly and precisely for his brother to speak. And when Nigredo did, Albedo had half-expected it. Was half-unsurprised, down to the awareness of tears.

He pressed a kiss to the skin in front of him, to the side of Nigredo's neck. "I want to give you more," came the murmur, near-gentle in its abstract understanding. "It's enough for now, but I'll give you more as time passes." The impression passed easily-- Is that all right? Was it all right to continue to have that want--to want to fill Nigredo until he forgot why he had wanted to die? Because that... That was exactly what Albedo wanted. Quietly and near shyly, with a firmness all the same, he wanted to make his brother forget his pain with Albedo's care.

One might have harbored a conflicted view. Another day, Nigredo would have passed the want as flawed. Another day, more would have rang as upsetting. The boy had subsisted on deficiency to never know the taste of complete loss, and an offering for more ruined that delicate equilibrium. It would kill him, if they broke. If Albedo left, rejected, called for his brother's existence as unwanted, unneeded--

Nigredo thought he might die. Tear apart his own promise so forcefully, in ways unimaginable for the youngest variant, that he would bleed out to expire. What Albedo proposed came as an ultimatum: to risk an end for something he would never otherwise obtain.

It was for that reason he found only certainty. For that reason alone, Nigredo whimpered quietly through the kiss and the tears without protest. It was wanted. To be loved in its entirety was more wanted than anything else, and for the entity that Nigredo now was, he could not turn it away. Yes. Please. He nodded against Albedo's hair, silent.

An acceptance. And, in turn, wanting. There was a relax in this, an acceptance of his own. For some reason, that made it all right. It made it enough. The small sounds given from Nigredo were ones that wouldn't be shared otherwise, but his brother was relaxed. Trusting. He understood, in parcel and part, that Albedo would not reprimand him for it. This, too, was something like relief. His hand moved up to touch Nigredo's hair, a light reassurance of care.

"Do you want to do something?" he wondered quietly. "We could, um." What could he suggest to a brother once estranged and now loved? "Play or something...." he finished lamely, nuzzling into Nigredo's skin. Something to prove that they could interact and not just break to come together. He was unsure, suddenly. If that was even wanted.

It occurred to him that he knew how to interact with Ritsuka in a casual manner probably better than Nigredo. A disarming thought.

There was a beat, an awkward pause, and then Nigredo reached with a stray hand to wipe at his eyes. He was past shame at this point to particularly care for his wounded pride. "I didn't really think past talking to you," he admitted. In an almost pitiful manner, he sniffled, clearing away both sinuses and the mind.

To scowl in sudden annoyance. The question brought to attention a duty unfulfilled. "And actually, I need to finish reading that journal I had last night. I wanted to return it to its owner yesterday." No bitterness toward Albedo, of course. Things just happened to fall in ways Nigredo should have expected and adjusted accordingly. Hopefully, Renamon was not in dire need of her journal. "I don't think I should play until then."

He sighed. The child hadn't done something casual in a long time; opting out proved disappointing. "I'm sorry."

An apology rather than an offer would deem his presence more obtrusive than wanted, but Albedo was in a mood to accept being put off just like that. He released his hold slightly, keeping contact but loosening enough for Nigredo to step back if he wanted. A notebook seemed boring depending on the contents (and he instantly moved to wonder just whose it was) but it was still a form of spending time.

He looked at Nigredo in some amusement, eyebrows cocking upward. "And I take it I'm not invited?" Or rather. Hadn't it been.... Memories were deemed faulty, but he still believed that he remembered.... Albedo moved to tease based only on guesswork. "Or was that my only chance, the only things were messy?" Because his brother had said, then, that he only had wanted to read with him that night. And before that, on the board, Nigredo had said that he had wanted Albedo's help. The amused smile turned a little lonely, touched still with understanding. He could see, still, if his brother didn't want him to take part in that anymore. "It's okay. Really. I don't mind."

...Much.

Oh. "Um." Eloquence crumbled as comprehension dawned, a very specific memory clouding the consciousness of the darker child. Nigredo swallowed, uncertain on how to act. The chance referred to was the night before last, and it had--like the night that was last--etched permanence into his being. Things were messy. Although the desire remained, he would be false to claim enthusiasm.

When one gazed at the end, however, the item was only a journal. The activity was only reading. If doubt laced easily into such simple matters, Nigredo would be going back on his promise. Therefore, slowly, he shook his head.

"You're still invited," he said. He did not smile, but nothing hinted at strain. "A lot of things were unfair then, but it would be mean of me to turn you away right now."

Edited 2012-02-12 04:33 (UTC)

Brother dear did not seem excited, but he hadn't to begin with. So Albedo took the words, rather than the lack, and released Nigredo, stepping backwards to put his hands up behind his head. He gave a smile, then looked out over the field. Unlike the courtyard, there were no benches on which to place themselves, but there were still.... Albedo tilted his head back at Nigredo, then set off, walking until they stopped at one of the goal nets. Nigredo trod to a nurse, murmuring something, and Albedo leaned back against one of the posts, waiting. The woman vanished and returned, handing something over, then Nigredo came back over. Albedo reached out and tugged Nigredo against the concurrent side of the pole, then leaned his head back against the metal.

"All right, darling dear," he said simply. "Now tell me about this journal you've been hinting at for days."

The nurse had been prompt about retrieving the notebook, and Nigredo offered his gratitude in words. "Thank you," he had said, before moving to where Albedo was situated. The minutes away did better for his mood, and by the time he adjusted against the pole, the boy appeared lighter, perfectly ready to take on an overdue task.

His explanation, therefore, read as excitement. He had been looking forward to this for awhile, after all. "The journal was lent to me a few days ago." By no one in particular, of course. As much as he admired Renamon, Nigredo was not so stupid as to focus on another in front of this brother. "It contains transcripts of the intercom and radio broadcasts made in the period before our arrival. By Dr. Landel, his former associate, and others."

Without thinking, the child blushed, obviously pleased. "There is a good deal of history tied to this place," he continued. "From what was hinted at, it sounds pretty incredible." Entertaining to a twelve-year-old's mind, at least.

Edited 2012-02-13 03:57 (UTC)

...Honestly, the second Nigredo seemed enthused, a part of Albedo's brain went into listening mode while the rest focused on little brother's reactions. When Nigredo began to blush that was all. Oh, they'd read whatever had intrigued Nigredo this much. But Albedo would have fun while they were at it.

He moved to lean on his side instead, reaching a hand to run against Nigredo's arm. "Incredible... Is it...? You seem pretty excited at least." His hand moved to Nigredo's face, the cold skin of his hand against Nigredo's warm cheek. Albedo eyelids slid to half-mast. "Tell me more," he said, sliding against Nigredo's side. "I'll be the perfect audience."

The dignity Nigredo held could not be sure if Albedo was making fun of him. He spent a good second observing his sibling, wondering if the mirrored face hinted at sincerity or otherwise. Of course, nothing in the boy saw touch as an abnormality. Albedo tended toward contact; thus, a hand at his cheek fell into normal behavior.

"This is worth getting excited over," he stated with a matter-of-fact tone. It proved to be a sad attempt at convincing, and it showed when the pink tinge turned red. "In any case, would you like for me to start with a summarized introduction first or just read the transcripts?" Normally, Nigredo would fall in with the latter, but the former may be required.

The minor defensiveness was endearing, and without any to say otherwise, Albedo curled into his brother against the post. "I see..." he murmured quietly. "Anything that can get you excited like that must be interesting indeed." If little brother pressed at his brother's waveform for hints of sincerity, that would be all he found. Albedo was not mocking, and more, was pleased at Nigredo's responses. Whether Albedo's reactions made sense to Nigredo or not.

"You can read the transcripts," he said, without any knowledge of what they were. He was honestly curious, if Nigredo was like this. "But tell me what we're getting into first." Nigredo said history, so possibly it was a basis of the start-up? He couldn't be sure. "Why did you say that you needed me when you originally asked?"

A prolonged beat passed between them as Nigredo gauged Albedo, brows furrowed in deep thought. Neither pretenses nor teasing were present in the elder's waveform. Surprisingly, he meant every part of the sentiment. Furthermore, he was pleased by the excitement displayed, like a friend sharing in another's happiness. Nigredo tipped his head, staring briefly at the overcast sky before sparing a kind look at Albedo. "I'm glad you see it as such," he spoke. The boy flashed a quick smile, to settle on stoicism once more.

"Sure," continued Nigredo. He hadn't a reason to withhold his motives for this. The questions would be answered in their entirety. "I thought you might pick up on the details I miss. You're more knowledgeable than I am, after all." Never mind his information source. "Besides, I trust you the most." With a swift hand, Nigredo turned to a page in Renamon's journal, where the first transcript had been written with obvious effort. "As for what we're getting into, I guess you can say I'm trying to gauge the development. Before we arrived, the institute operated under a very different paradigm. I want to know what had changed."

And what he could reap.

The kindness given and received, as well as the easy explanation was nice, and if it had just been that, they would have moved on simply. But Nigredo had answered Albedo’s other question, of why he had called him out on the board, and at the words said, Albedo flushed deeply before he even realized. “You….”

The reiteration was deemed difficult, but Albedo continued, tone dropping back to the uncertain child that had existed at the last institute they had been in. “You trust me the most?”

Nigredo could hear the uncertainty etched into the voice, lingering beneath expression and movements. It slid around in the confines of his thoughts, confusion made and ready, but the child felt he understood in part. Why Albedo would question--Nigredo had an inkling.

Regardless, the answer remained unchanged, and with it, the tune shifted. Nigredo sobered, waveform muted yet steady. "I do," he replied. "You've never lied to me. You kept your promises." Keeping them as they spoke. Quiet passed in a beat, and he stared down at the pages. "And you know, giving you everything includes my trust."

So there it was.

It was true, of course. Other than some pranks at the first institute, Albedo could not recall lying to Nigredo. And anything the boy had said, he had held to. It wasn't about honor or anything archaic and useless like that. It was only a kind of permanence that he could choose, instead of something forced. It was his own fate, in the end. His own choices and decisions. Nigredo, of all people, was a direct outcome and perfect example of that.

Both flirtation and insecurity faded, and Albedo only leaned against his brother's side, head against his shoulder. "It's the same, you know," he said, almost inaudibly. "I only trust you." There was Ritsuka, and Albedo trusted him in certain things, but Nigredo Albedo would trust to move and react in the ways best. Now, yes. Now, Albedo would trust Nigredo not to break his heart.

His lips cracked into a smile. Beyond the wording, the response registered as pleasing, in the way of quiet confidants sharing something previously unknown. Nigredo allowed both the leaning and the softness and barely managed to stop himself from breaking out into relieved laughter. "I know," he said gently. "I appreciate your trust." And Nigredo would not move to destroy what had been offered.

He leaned back against Albedo as a finger tapped on the pages before them. "So are you ready to listen to some drama?" That's not about us, he left unfinished.

There was something like a quiet beat of time and life, masquerading as care and trust, and remaining as the only option in existence that would allow Albedo to continue without the full entirety of the reasoning between it being resentment and regret and loss of hope. A delayed principle, but a cemented one, slowly but steadily now. The pressure of Nigredo against him was noted, reminded him of the time in that town when Nigredo had leaned into him as if it were natural, and this time, he didn't move away.

Instead he inhaled, attempting to regain some of the brevity loss in the emotional shift. "As there aren't any soap operas interesting enough," he said, half dryly, despite the lack of his brother's knowledge on the subject. "I'll take what I can get in the drama section. I'm all ears."

Ironically, Albedo would find, the transcripts served as an excellent substitute for a soap opera in retrospect.

Nigredo laughed before he could stop himself, a dry wisp against the morning air. Lack of knowledge or no, the boy had his want, and it made him rather shamelessly happy. "Alright," he murmured, before taking to reading the transcripts from the first recorded night.

Forming words with a clear voice came easy for a child whose strength lay in speech. The theatrics laced within, as sincere as they might have been, proved far more difficult to a being uncomfortable with emotion. Nigredo paused at intervals, his expression twitching between disbelief and amusement, before ending his reading with a strange face. "'Years of research', huh?" he said blandly. "Is it just me, or am I right to cast doubt on that claim?"

Albedo was silent to his brother's speaking, eyes on the grey sky and thoughts his own. When Nigredo moved to opinions, Albedo glanced over, an eyebrow raised. Devil's advocate or personal feeling, he questioned, "Why doubt? They've found ways to take people from different universes and times and bring them together with seemingly no drawbacks. And even, if we're to believe, place inhuman creatures in human form. I don't believe our timeline has that kind of science allotted to it." A beat as he frowned, then rolled his eyes. "And our scientists certainly~ cannot comprehend the fine discrepancies of time and space.~"

Of his interest, it lay elsewhere. "More of note, it seems a large change in the dear doctor's personality to me. My, this other person got him riled, didn't he?" The boy peered over at the page. "How long ago did you say this took place?"

His reason for questioning did not entirely line up with Albedo's, but the latter served to emphasize the fact of diverging times. Nigredo, therefore, took a moment to contemplate before responding. "I can't argue that," he admitted as the boy ran a finger against a corner of the page. "I'm probably nitpicking anyway. He just sounds like he's trying to convince himself of the precious time put into their 'project'."

Perhaps to convince this Alec Doyle. According to Renamon, they were once partners. Their disagreements led them to become enemies, and eventually, Landel succeeded in killing Doyle. Albedo was probably right to think that during this particular night, they were merely attempting to rile each other up with words.

As for the other query, Nigredo looked over the numerical notations and did a quick mental calculation. "Thirty-seven days ago, more or less."

Edited 2012-03-03 23:16 (UTC)

Albedo couldn't argue Nigredo's point either. He shrugged well-naturedly, putting the point of days in his head as he continued to listen. A bit over five weeks, while they had been here a bit over three. The timing was familiar, and his mind worked as Nigredo read. A difference of two weeks. That was--

Albedo's face abruptly paled out, the link between them shivering. Rubedo. Rubedo had claimed to have been at this place two weeks longer than they. If any answers were sought, he would have known. He would have been the one who--

Day 61: Recreation Field (Shift 2)

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