wickedchouette | (no subject)

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[Alfie greets and makes nice with newcomers when he comes across them, but he doesn't go out of his way to seek them out. He's not interested in being part of any de facto welcome wagon, especially not now that more and more people are filtering their way in, either to use the Meadous as a waypoint or to settle down and stay; that can be a job for people like Meulin and Harley. He does, however, notice new houses as he passes them by, and today there's one on his regular walking route. He takes note of the name on the mailbox - Beauregard, good lord - and is all set to continue ambling onwards when a flash of movement catches his eye. Is that--

-- yes. That absolutely is his cat, leaping up onto the windowsill and slipping in through the open window.

With a sigh, he turns and heads towards the door instead, giving it a firm knock.]

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You could, you know. This is Gwen we're talking about.

[Gwen, who's unflappable; Gwen, who has pretty much always heard worse.]

[ fair enough. gwen wouldn't even flinch, considering her husband.

beau sinks down into the couch, holding the bottle tightly. ]

I don't want to. [ sniff. ] I wasn't going to tell you, either.

And all things considered, I'm surprised you're not reacting worse. It's never a good idea, keeping everything inside like this.

S'mostly because of Yin Yu.

[ she says, bringing her feet up on the couch. she holds her knees close to her chest. ]

Still as water. [ another swig. she's starting to get lightheaded, so that's good. ] Heart as still as water.

[ so she's just... pointedly not thinking about it, basically. ]

Explain to me who that is; you've not mentioned him.

[Him? Her? Them? Who knows; he's not the best with non-English names.]

[ a long sigh. ]

He's a friend of mine. From the camp. [ it's really funny that beau has just like, adopted all of the ancient chinese sword wizards. ] He helped me not lose my shit a few times.

I lost, uh - I lost... [ she pauses, and takes another drink. ] Four weeks in, I lost one of the closest people to me. Someone who I couldn't lose. He killed someone, because he thought it'd be helping me. He knew I was a murderer - he thought if he killed someone that week I wouldn't have to. I did have to. And he got caught, instead of me.

I had to watch his execution. He and another friend of mine had to fight each other to the death and the only weapon they were given were fountain pens. He died getting stabbed in the neck. He made it close to me, and fell, and I couldn't move. I couldn't go to him, there was a barrier, so I just had to watch him bleed to death in the snow.

[ a pause. ] Yin Yu was one of the only people who made me feel like I could make it past that.

[She really should be telling this to Gwen, he thinks. Gwen is gentle and maternal; she would put an arm around her and murmur nice, comforting things. Alfie isn't incapable of any of that, of course, but he's not so fast or so easy with it.

But then, he thinks, maybe an arm around her shoulders and soft, comforting words aren't actually what she wants at the moment.]

Yeah.

[He says, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.]

Yeah, you've been through the wringer, all right, haven't you. It's a wonder you're not a gibbering mess right now. "Heart as still as water" - that's something he'd say to you, or something that was said about him?

[ through the wringer is an understatement, she feels like. just saying this, saying out loud what happened to her - it feels insane. ]

Um. [ she takes another drink, bringing her hand up to rub at her face. ] Both, sort of. He calmed me down using that. It's kind of like meditation? A mantra.

[ sniff. ] But he's always really calm, too. The week after - after. [ pause. ] The week after Huaisang died, Yin Yu caught me in the middle of, um. Phoenix called it a panic attack?

And we were all sharing emotions that week, and Yin Yu had a lot of calm in him that he gave to me.

That'll help.

[He's speaking from experience, of course. He's both given calm to Royce as well as leeched it off of him.]

Would he also have said not to keep it bottled up?

Probably. [ she says, looking away. ]

I'm not - bottling it up, I just. There's no good way to talk about it. Nobody is going to fucking sympathize with a murderer. Nobody did in the camp.

You'd be surprised what crimes people here will sympathize with, Beau, if they decide they're fond enough of the person who committed them.

[ a long pause. ]

You didn't even trip over me telling you I killed four people.

You told me weeks ago what murder games entailed.

[He counters, folding his hands.]

But I've killed men, myself, in far more morally repugnant situations than you.

[ fair, but she hadn't mentioned she did a murder - or four. either way, she looks up at him. not... startled, because it's not a surprise, but intrigued. ]

Gwen told me you were a gangster. [ but she's known gangsters who haven't killed people, so... she didn't want to assume. ] Makes sense, I guess. That you wouldn't care what I did.

Not caring is flippant. Makes it sound as if I don't understand the gravity of taking a life. I do. I simply understand, and I accept.

I was also a soldier, you know, once upon a time. That's very different from being a gangster.

[ she shifts on the couch. the gravity of taking a life. deep breath. another drink. ]

How... [ she starts, and then: ] How'd you figure out to handle it?

The war deaths, or the gangster deaths?

... I guess any of them. Either.

They're very different. And they're both different to your murder games.

[He pauses.]

Those who had no sympathy for you because of the role you were forced into. What do you believe they would have done, in your place?

[ this she looks bitter at. ]

The same fucking thing I did. They would've picked people they weren't close to. And they would've gotten themselves caught, I'm sure, so someone else could take up their place. All so everybody else could have their false fucking victory over finding someone who was forced to kill people and then throwing that person into an execution ring.

[ and then, angrily: ] One of them told me they would've picked the people who were contributing the least, if you can fucking believe that.

[Alfie snorts - either at that last comment or at the whole thing; it's not clear.]

Right.

So what you're telling me is that you did what you had to do, just as anyone would have done.

[ she looks down at her bottle. ]

... Yeah. [ she says, hesitantly. ] But none of them thought so.

[ she is a creature fueled by validation and the opinions of others, even if she tries her best to not show it. it's hard not to take it to heart. ]

And if - everybody thinks it was something irredeemable, it must be, right?

Absolutely fucking not. They sound like sanctimonious, hypocritical pricks, the lot of them, and you'd do best to be shot of their opinions.

[ she - huffs out a bit of a laugh. it's hiccup-y and tipsy. ]

That's - that's easy to say. [ sniff. ] I had - I had this power, you know? They gave us powers. I could summon a creature out of my negative emotions to kill people. So I did.

I tore two people apart. I beat one to death with my fists.

And you did it because it was the best option in front of you at the time, yes?