Ekkehardt Gehring (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spelleton) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
datadiving2019-03-15 12:09 am
spelleton) wrote in datadiving2019-03-15 12:09 am
spelleton) wrote in datadiving2019-03-15 12:09 am
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No.
[Maybe.]
What does that have to do with anything? [He narrows his eyes] Did you put her up to this?
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You got distracted from trying to kill her. There's not much that can do that, so of course it's noticeable.
And no, I didn't put her up to it. Don't be ridiculous. [ He shakes his head. The sound of chains jangling fills the small space, briefly. ] I like my freedom of movement, as I'm sure you're aware.
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I told you it's fine. It's not important. I just... needed a moment to process something. It's processed now.
[He crosses his arms and huffs]
You'd probably be like "And?" or "That's what was on your mind?" about it anyway, knowing you.
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And how would you know anything about how I react?
The only way we communicate any more is through bickering. [ Ekkehardt has a talent for using slight amounts of emphasis to make ordinary words sound like insults. ] I can't remember the last time we ever talked like normal people.
[ And if Snatcher goes 'well we're not normal' he is going to lose his mind.
He can't remember. He really, genuinely, can't remember. The thought is terrifying in a way he can't conceptualize, because being dead doesn't blur his mind and memories the way his living ones are, so it's been centuries. ]
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[He cuts himself off, offense giving way to sudden, crushing realization.
Of course Ekkehardt doesn't remember.
Of course.
Just because he has that crawlspace he hides in doesn't mean a damn thing. Sometimes he forgets that many of the dead did't hold onto their memories the same way he did.]
I know because I know. Unless you're going to tell me you suddenly have no idea how I'd react to anything.
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[ He dreams, sometimes. He remembers brief flashes of emotion, half-grasped memories of a life that seems more like a dream than something real; snippets of voices and images he has no context for. They pass out of his mind, tantalizingly close but still a step too far for him to grasp.
The album is no substitute for his memories, but it's still his. It's all he has.
He's not good at anger, especially with someone he likes
loves, maybe still, but that doesn't matter any more, or shouldn't.His aggressiveness collapses into exhaustion, as it always does. In the brief moments that he's ever angry about anything. ]I've been around you long enough to have a reasonable idea of how you react. [ Even if he doesn't quite remember his living days with clarity, some things never change. Feelings and old patterns stay even after the context behind them is lost or clouded. ]
But you don't want to talk about the past. I understand that much. So I don't ask. About anything.
/borrows human icons for proper expressions
Of course, that means that makes two things about Ekke he realizes now and isn't that just great? All kinds of things piling up on him now that he doesn't want to deal with and the only thing he can kill is on the other side of a freaking locked closet door.]
Look. It's...
It's not about me, okay?
[And maybe if he gives him that much he'll drop it. Maybe.
Doubtful.]
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He doesn't know what it is he misses, only that he does, that there's some emptiness in him that seems just out of reach. If he could grasp it, he'd remember everything, he's sure.
But he doesn't know what that is.
He locked those memories away. For safety. For protection. Who did he lock them away for? Not for him. For someone else.
He doesn't make contracts, nor does he sign them. But there was something, maybe, once...a very long time ago.
"Very well. I won't say anything. I give you my word on that.
Not until you're ready to accept it." ]
Then who is it about? Her?
[ Saying even that causes a reaction in him that he doesn't seem to notice. The chain that is a constant pattern around his neck pulses with light. ]
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[It's half true. The days he doesn't think about Vanessa are some of his best. The least frustrating and angry and confusing.]
No, it's...
[Fuck it.]
It's you, actually. Can't exactly talk to you about you now, can I?
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He is surprised, though. That shows clearly enough. ]
I suppose not, but I have to admit, I [ the chain around his neck pulses again, more erratic, more urgent ] can't think of anything about me that would be notable enough to bother you that much.
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There! See?! That's exactly what I was talking about earlier! "That's what's on your mind?"
[He briefly shapeshifts into Ekkehardt to punctuate his mimicry before changing back]
Get on me all you like, but I'm not the only one who clams up here!
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You're still not telling me anything! That's not even an answer!
[ He pulls at the chain around his neck, wrenching it half out of himself. The sound is brief, but awful. It seethes with light. ]
How am I supposed to know what's bothering you about me, besides, apparently, everything?
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And now here Ekke is, doing whatever he's doing with those chains and he's down to his very last nerve and--]
Fine! You want to know that badly?! I'll get right to the point!
Why the heck didn't you tell me all these years about your crush?!
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He's about to brush it off and say it's nothing or because it wasn't important but that, too, is an evasive answer.
He owes him honesty, if nothing else.
The words is that it? would be so easy to say-- ]
...You were the prince. And then you had her, and then it...well. [ His laugh is weak. ] I thought I had better give you space.
[ So he did. For centuries. ]
I thought it was -- fine, not to say anything, because...nothing would have changed.
[ He's finding it entirely impossible to look at him. Thankfully going red from embarrassment is something he is entirely incapable of. ]
And I didn't want to make it seem like I...expected anything of you. So.
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It's not a dismissive answer, but he doesn't know if he was ready for something that wasn't]
Look. I... get it. The other part I mean. Once I was married and all. But do you honestly think I would have cared about something like station?
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would either of them ever had this conversation without being literally locked in an enclosed space together? ALSO PROBABLY NOT ]
No. Not really. But it wasn't...about that, I suppose. Not entirely.
[ He might have thought the pain was just from what he'd done to himself so long ago, preferring to close the memories away rather than to be reminded of what he missed - but he'd be foolish to think that. ]
I was just-- a coward.
I didn't know what you might say, so I imagined it could be anything... I didn't want you to look at me differently. For anything to change.
Like I said. [ He looks at him, briefly, then looks away. It's frankly embarrassing all over again to realise that he's kept the same feelings for centuries and it's never faded at all. ] I didn't-- want to put any pressure on you. I suppose.
As long as you were happy -- that was all that mattered. It didn't need to be with me.
[ There's another short, bitter laugh, as if to say 'and look how that turned out'. ]
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He sinks down into a sitting position, head lightly thunking back against the wall.
It could have been different.
It all could have been so different.
They'd still be dead, of course, but a different kind. One where their home was still alive.]
At least you didn't wait. It took me only, what, a few centuries to realize what was going on?
[And they'd known one another since they were children.]
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(He finds himself not wanting to, because it's so easy to sleep and forget the world and while away the centuries dreaming of what was. He doesn't need to add 'what could have been' to that.
It was what that little hideaway was for, after all. Years slipped away so easily when you were dead, sand through an hourglass.)
"At least you didn't wait".
He turns his head away and is doubly glad that signs of embarrassment are something he can't really show any more. ]
Well. [ His voice is even quieter than usual. ]
It's not as if I stopped.
[ He'd filled his time with study and caretaking and busywork. If nothing had gone wrong, he would have been entirely content with that. He is content with this existence, now, in his own way.
But there had never been anybody else. ]
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[Why not? He's been by my side since the beginning.
You both died because of love. You know it's not worth it.
He's the only one I trust.
You trusted her, too.
If I'd realized sooner...
How long were you with her? Maybe he should be worried about you.
It's not going to change what happened to you. It's not going to make you any less dead.]
[This whole thing's giving him a headache.]
Keep coming over. Like you've been lately.
It's... not bad.
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It's understandable. [ It's not as if Avery wants to think about the past. He certainly wouldn't blame him. And he himself is always wandering, never really as present as he feels he should be...but it's painful, sometimes.
He simply nods, silent otherwise. 'It's not bad' is practically a welcome banner and a fanfare, coming from him.
... ]
I missed this. [ It seems silly to say 'I missed you', because he's always been...right there. Hard to miss, really.
But it's hard to be vulnerable. It's safe to bicker and banter and be acerbic and dismissive.
So the distance between them - has always been hard to miss, too. ]
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[It's a quiet admission, made without even looking over at Ekkehardt. He'd felt the distance, sure, but he's never realized just how real and painful it really was until now. Until that distance closed just a little.]
You know, you could always set up shop in the village.
I'd offer my home, but, uh. It's kind of just the one room. Not much privacy there. If you want that.
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They live in the same place, if what this is can be called living, but they might as well be a world away.
(He visits the manor, even now. Even with everything that's happened, he wonders if it could have been different.
He can't bring himself to hate her completely, even now. She, too, had been dear to him once. He pities her, most of all.) ]
...It can't hurt to be closer.
And it's not as if privacy is much of a concern for me any more. [ Half the time he looks like a dog, closer to a Dweller than any sort of humanoid creature. ] So. If you're happy to have my company, I'd be happy to have yours.
[ Maybe happy wasn't the right word, but what is, anymore. ]
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Company... When was the last time he'd had company that wasn't one of his minions?
He quirks a small smile, entirely without noticing.]
All right! My company for yours. I'll even forego the paperwork just this once. Consider it an act on good faith. I'll even let you stay rent free!
[He grins and goes to spread his arms wide only for his hands to smack into the wall, leading to muttered curses and shaking the pain out.]