recolle | [ PRETTY DARN CLOSED ] vindicated by dashboard confessional

[ PRETTY DARN CLOSED ] vindicated by dashboard confessional

WHO: Zoro, Inkwell Buds and select others
WHERE: The Inkwell ~*After Hours*~
WHEN: Uhhh this past weekend at some point.....,..
WHAT: zoro's throwing a big crazy party because he just wants to throw a big crazy party in a small space. then he gets depression i guess.
WARNINGS: a lot. of alcohol.

At least two month’s rent was blown on this party. With Chuuya’s permission, the whole Inkwell has been rearranged: bar tables and chairs cleared out from the center of the room and pushed to the sides to form a makeshift banquet table, draped in red cloth. Upon it stretches a verified feast of various types: a full roasted pig, a whole set of roughly presented authentic chilean cuisine, barbecue, a spread of thai food and pathetic bowl of salad, labeled “for sad people”. There’s a hired DJ, a hired bartender, an open tab and a whole lot of time to just go wild.

(Zoro will pay Chuuya for any damages later.)

DRUNK DARTS which i have never played

[Chuuya was against any actual dartboard making its way into the bar so Zoro had to settle with the fake kind with continued alterations. Each segment has a number and a poorly drawn shot glass below it, higher numbers around the edges, lower numbers towards the center. Aim well, drink less. A bad throw though? Might land you with four shots before the next dart.]

ooc: just pick 1-2 are on the inner ring, 3-5 are on the outer and the bullseye has 0

DRUNK CHAIR JENGA which i have also never played

[Ever played Jenga? Great. Ever played Drunk Jenga? That variation where if you topple the tower you have to take a drink, pick two jenga blocks and complete the task? Great, but also questionable. Now, how about Drunk Chair Jenga?

Around nine a strange shipment comes bustling in through the back door. A bunch of stalwart men that Zoro cheers on with applause and laughter pile a set of graffiti’d chairs in the middle of the room. Upon closer inspection the legs, the arms, the seats, the backs of the scrapyard furniture were covered in directives: “Truth or dare”, “Tell a secret”, “bodyshop”–even one that says “bare it all”. Zoro isn’t intimidated by any of them. As the chair-deliverers recede into the party, Zoro strides towards the trash pile and stacks the first chair, looking defiantly at every and anyone.]

Don’t leave me hanging! Who’s next?!

ooc: look here if you’re like me and also don’t know how to play this game

FOR CLOSE CR ONLY

[At 10:15 Zoro gets a call. No one in the room sees who it’s from but for the brief instant between reading the number and answering it, Zoro’s smile lights up a small pocket of the bar. For most people at the party it’s a foreign sight. He’s smiled before but never like this, radiating and boyish, a skip to his jog as he pushes out the back exit, phone pressed against his ear. The words he says are indecipherable but the barely-touched whiskey he leaves behind speaks volumes.

Five minutes slip by, ten minutes tiptoe, but it’s around half an hour that it becomes unnatural. Zoro was never a people person but he always enjoyed a good party, the louder the better. And this party was a riot. Still, should you be close enough, some strange noises can be heard from out back, dull and muffled by music and laughter.

The back door remains unlocked. The alley it leads to is silent. Mostly. The party’s heartbeat throbs behind while unseen vermin skitter away from the intrusion and someone draws in a choked, shaking breath.

–Wait.

There’s a trail. A broken phone, smashed and bashed and abandoned in front of the dumpster. A segment of dented brick diagonal from it, still stained with fresh blood. A beautiful katana, dropped or thrown, its white scabbard bruised by the ground, the decorative gold scratched.

And Zoro’s bloody knuckles, draped from his knees as he hides his head and cries at 10:45 in the alley behind his own celebration.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[To be honest, Baren doesn't like to be at the Inkwell when Chuuya's there. He also doesn't really feel like being in the same space as Yato for a long time. And lastly, this was a designated old man day where he wants to be in bed at 10:30 PM. In all honesty, he would've skipped if this wasn't Z's big celebration for something that he wanted for three fucking years. But that's what it is. So Baren has to be there. The goal was still to not be there for very long. Maybe twenty minutes.

Except Zoro gets a call around the time that Baren's ready to get up and go, already biting back a yawn. Fuck. Okay. Fine, he'll wait because he knows he can't leave without saying bye.

And wait. And wait and wait and wait.

Until he stops waiting because if it's just a call from one of Zoro's stunt friends abroad - like Baren thought it might've been? - they'd understand if Baren butt in for a bit just to say his goodbye.

When he steps outside, that's not the case. There isn't Z's dumb roaring laughter that Baren likes the sound of more than he'll admit; instead it's just a small scene of disaster that automatically makes a chill run down Baren's spine. He takes a small inventory - broken phone, bloody knuckles, crying Z, fallen katana, crying Z - and rushes over so fast that he ends up kneesliding to a stop in front of Zoro, picking up the katana on his way to keep it off the ground, the other hand immediately trying to snag underneath Zoro's chin so he get a look at his face.]

Z! Hey. Z, it's me. The fuck's going on—c'mon, look at me. What happened, who happened—

[He can't fix it if he doesn't know what's wrong.]

I failed.

[The frailty of his voice doesn't suit the cheerful, boisterous man that was left inside. In the thirty minutes he's been outside, in the twenty minutes since he smashed his phone, Zoro had shrunk to the size of a boy half his age and man twice as old. He was a veteran of pain but a novice to sorrow and now he was getting both at once in doubles.

A recollection of a girl he knew–short black hair blinding her as she wrestled him to the ground, laughing, shouting, teasing–and a memory of a girl he knew–short black hair carefully groomed as her head was cushioned by a pillow, her body unmoving. ] Kana... Kuina...? I took too long. She's dead. No...? She's–I wasn't... [His words are as jumbled as his head, tossed about in memories that don't make sense that he both does and doesn't remember and can't separate between the two, can't differentiate without it hurting, without the line getting murkier and their faces blending into each other their voices–her voice? Which one? The one that crackled a permanent goodbye over the phone or the one that he felt, knew he knew but–

There's a shout, a loud crack, as Ryouta slams the back of his fist against the wall behind him. Bits of plaster slide down from the small imprint he left behind. His breathing slows when he was never aware it had sped up. He can see the person in front of him where before there was just a blackness, as if he had closed his eyes the whole time.

The side of his fist starts to bleed as his head falls against Baren's chest. The tears don't stop. He doesn't think about them.] She heard. She heard about all of it. She wants me to stop. I failed.

[There's a softly muttered: "Christ, Z."

It's lot somewhere in the jumble as Baren tries to keep up - who's Kana? Who's Kuina? Is this the same person? Is it worth googling? Is it worth digging into Zoro's past when in the past three years they've been content with not touching on that? - and he accepts the fall of Zoro's head even as the warmth of tears manages to shock him faintly. The level of emotion startles him, ruins him a little bit, just because he's not expecting it. Not from Zoro, of all people.

Still - Baren's one redeemable quality is that he knows how to take care of people.

It's quiet, silent as he moves to let the katana to rest against an untouched piece of wall, balanced and standing proud. It frees up his hands so one can catch the wrist of Zoro's bleeding hand so he doesn't hurt himself further, the other automatically coming to rest in his hair and scratch his fingers through it. The touch, the hint of sharpness just to keep Zoro there with him.]

C'mon, you shitty gorilla, don't fuck with me...

[Normalcy, normalcy, as if his own mind isn't racing to try to decipher where the problem started.]

Give me a piece at a time - we'll puzzle it out. You don't have to do any thinking, I'll figure it out.

Thought you won. Isn't that what we're all here for?

It's all coming at once, Baren.

[Two losses at the same time, flooding his chest so that he can't breathe. So that even his words are gasped out during a brief resurface. Then it's under again, a call of his name, the rushing of feet, the stillness of the girl with black hair. Kuina. Human lives are really fragile.

"Human lives are really fragile, Ryouta." Had Kana told him the same thing? He remembers waiting with bated breath for her excitement, the crackle of poor reception sparking in his ears. He remembers waiting. And then–]

She called me. It's been at least ten years. Her old man told her about the movie–I thought I had won, Baren. I thought–[–he thought he had shouted back at her when her words made it through the speaker. "Both of us made a promise and now you're running away?!" But she wasn't running. She was dead or–no? No. No.

Ryouta wishes Baren's nails dug in sharper. Wished he could have more pain to ground him in reality and take him away from the water that still filled his chest.] She's getting married. She's getting married. [Repetition through gritted teeth so maybe he can get it through his own damn skull. Kana, not Kuina. Kuina was a mystery, dead and gone if she was ever real. Kana was his. Kana was...

Gone. Gone in a worse way. A deliberate way. A choice. She had abandoned him. His voice, his words, his actions hadn't made it in time to revive her.] I was too slow.

[There's a breath and the too honest, the too scathing - ]

Then if she couldn't fucking wait, she didn't know what she was missing out on.

[Baren doesn't wait for anyone either - if he met her, he knows that he couldn't blame her if she was sincerely happy. That's not what Baren does. But for right now, Baren thinks selfishly that he never has to meet her. He doesn't have to worry about if she's happy. For right now, there's Zoro in front of him, breaking apart at the seams, and he inhales and shakes his head. He'll say what he wants to.]

Shouldn't have to chase after someone who won't wait. [His fingers continue to scratch through Zoro's hair in certain, repetitive motions, raking all the way back to the nape of his neck.] C'mon, Z - she made you go through all that for ten years.

And she'll see you on the big screen when you kill this movie and think, "Fuck, screwed that one up, didn't I?" Ain't that right? 'cause this is what you've been working for.

[Right? Because - whoever this is, whether it's Kana or Kuina or Nami - she was alive. She was alive. She called, she told Zoro she was getting married, she told him to stop - and if that doesn't send Baren's blood boiling in a flash. What kind of person tells someone to stop what they're doing when it's none of their goddamn business—

A breath.]

C'mon, Z... This isn't like you...

Edited (too many ain'ts in one tag) 2017-07-25 05:51 (UTC)

You don't get it.

[The nails on his skin are what he needs; the shivers they send down keep him grounded. Words are easier to come by, the jumble of distorted memories get pushed back, if only until the next rake down his neck.] I did it for her. So she could hear me. So she could go back to who she wanted to be. I was doing this–

[This time the water comes in a single wave. It's manageable. Baren's fingers are his anchors, the rhythmic pain forms chain links that bind him to the shore. He won't be washed away. He won't get dragged under again so long as he stays close.

A piece at a time. A piece at a time.

Ryouta takes a deep breath.] She found out about the accident. [He could hear her raspy voice through the phone; completely unchanged in all the years since they'd been together. Kana had been crying. Kana had been crying over him.] She told me to quit. That even married she wouldn't be able to live happily if I ended up dying for our promise or... something.

[His voice is steadier now and his head raises just enough to catch Baren's eyes. There's a weariness there now but, more importantly, a glimmer of strength that had been all but gone a few moments before.]

Or... something.

[There's a long pause - as he keeps putting pieces together. The one who just called Z is the one who's getting married, the one involved with a promise regarding stunt work, the reason why Zoro even bothered working for movies? Something about that irritates Baren. Living for someone else doesn't seem like Zoro's style, not in the way that Baren understood him.

Still, he's mindful. His fingers don't stop in their motions, though they're growing more scraping rather than soothing as he takes note of what seems to keep Zoro grounded. He angles his fingers so that his nails, clipped as they are, still leave brief red marks down Zoro's neck. It's rougher than Baren would bother to be with most people he - comforts? is that what he's doing? - but for some reason, he thinks it suits Zoro. Something angry to keep him tethered. To keep his attention on Baren, not lost to whatever memory he disappears to.

Their eyes lock and Baren cocks his head to the side, unflinching.]

... Well, you could always not die.

[Easier said than done and - the funny thing is that Baren hates it. He hates getting calls from the hospital because Zoro doesn't have another person to put as his emergency contact. He hates being in hospitals. He hates waiting for Zoro to regain consciousness. He hates that tenuous line between life and death.

But Zoro thrives off of it. So Baren repeats his own philosophy back to him. Why not just conquer death?]

Living for someone else... Listening to what you're told... You've gotta be kidding me. Who am I talking to now? Is that you, Ryou-kun?

[Or is that just how special this person is?

Baren knows the answer. It's obvious in the way that Zoro breaks down at a call from her. But he wants to believe that Zoro is more than this.]

[You could always not die.

There it is again. Baren's true talent: using words to cut through time and give space for brief reprieve. Teasing him out of the ocean and back onto the boat house on a Sunday, a normal day, a normal moment amongst all the chaos. Ryouta takes it without thinking. It's a different kind of instinct, one that makes him smile at Baren because that's what he wants to be doing. Instinct driven by desire, maybe, instead of survival. Ryouta doesn't know, doesn't need to. He takes the moment he has and chuckles, punching Baren's chest.

His knuckles leave a bloody signature.]

Asshole. [Smiling, still smiling as he keels forward. He's right. Of course he's right. He's always right, the smug, smart dick. Who is Baren talking to? Ryouta? Zoro? Or the boy still chasing after someone who had already been defeated?]

I can't beat her unless she's awake. She's my goal. I just wanted to wake her up. I just wanted...[to reach her. But sound didn't travel underground and Kana had buried herself long ago. Maybe that's who Kuina was, maybe that's why he was seeing her now, of all times, dead and still and caged. The Kana he had known was just as much a spectral memory.

"I just can't do this anymore, Ryouta. I can't watch anything without wondering if you died doing the stupid–It's just too much, alright? We're not kids anymore. I grew up. I like my life. You need to move on and like yours too. Don't kill yourself over a promise we made when we were, what? Nine?" Ten, he had corrected her. The next three minutes of the call had been him trying to tell her the work this film was easier, that everything was alright, that he wouldn't let anything happen again, that he'll get there, he'll make their dreams come true.

"I don't want that, Ryouta. That's not my dream anymore."

It wasn't the last thing she said but it was the last he had heard. A second later the reception had dropped and he had been left shouting her name in the alleyway alone, as if his voice could drag her voice back. As if he could reach her at all.

The chuckle Baren had brought him devolves, the hand he had playfully punched him with now balled up in his shirt. He's crying again. He's not sure why. Baren asked who he was speaking to and he's not quite sure how to answer. Maybe that's it.

The black haired girl is still pushing his face in the mud, laughing at him, calling him too slow. He can see the bruises and skidmarks on her legs as she gets a headstart climbing up a flat-faced mark. He feels the need to chase after her, to get ahead of her, but can't move. Maybe that's it.

He sees an open building, kids around him crying as he's held back from shouting uselessly at a body. Kuina, Kuina, Kana. Kana. Kana, answer me. Kana, please. Maybe that's it.

Maybe it's all it.

Maybe.

Maybe...

Once upon a time, he and Baren took a trip to Las Vegas. While entering the Strip they stopped and pulled over to the side of the road to watch a controlled demolition. It took a few seconds for the titan to realize its support had been blown out but once the shock went through the building understood. One shoulder at a time, the titan brought itself to the ground and with one last thunderous shout, lay to rest in the embrace of billowing smoke.

Zoro doesn't have the energy for one last thunderous shout. He keeps crying.]

[There was a glimmer of something there.

The laugh and smile gets Baren to relax for half a second, his shoulders lose their tension for a few precious seconds, and he takes comfort in the fact that at the very last, Zoro hasn't forgotten how to smile. Even if it disappears eventually, it was there - and Baren always said that if you're not laughing, then you're not living.

He can't blame Zoro for crying. The abandonment is something that stings, even if it's a feeling that Baren himself hasn't experienced in a long, long time. Normally he's the one leaving. He understands people better than expected, though. He understands the frailty of relying on one person to be your anchor. He understands the feeling of having that slip away from you. He understands the bone-aching loneliness.

So he just mutters, softly:] Yeah, yeah. Let it out, you big baby.

[What he means: don't be like me.

Don't be so emotionally stunted that you can't even let yourself cry when you're afraid of being alone.

There's some part of Baren that's still vigilant. The sword is still standing. The backdoor is still unlocked. He'll have to think up some quick, messy distraction if it opens and another person tries to join them. But for right now... for right now, he'll let his fingers keep running through Zoro's hair and down his neck. The hand that held onto his wrist lets go, uncuffs the sleeve of the shirt he's wearing and brings the cloth over his palm so he can wipe at Zoro's messy, tear-stained cheeks.

Baren was always the twin who was good at taking care of people. Making sure they're safe, making sure they're fed, making sure they're comfortable.

But god does that not feel like enough right now.

It's after some silence - some moments of just letting Zoro cry - that he tries to remember. What would Okuni say? What would Okuni do? Some part of his chest aches, reminds him that he'll never be as good at sincerity as her, but what kind of useless person would he be if he doesn't just - ]

We don't wake up people who want to be asleep, Z.

Just - [forget it rests at the tip of his clumsy tongue.]

... Whatever it is, whatever stupid shit you want to do, I said I'd stick around for it, right? I'm still waiting on you.

[He has to at least try.

YOU KNOW WHAT I'M HERE FOR

IT'S FINALLY HERE

IT SURE IS

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also i need this

Re: also i need this

what are you saying to boba about me wtf

just a normal conversation

SLANDER

only the truth

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DRUNK CHAIR JENGA what even is this greer

i think dana's done it

what even is this dana

the people need answers dana

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