All 08.1 - Knowing Isn't Better

The air was bitter. It had gotten very cold lately; it wasn't snowing that night, but the wind swept up small crystals from the piles on the roofs and streets, carrying them about and leaving a faint glitter in the air, reflected from lights in the windows across the street. The solstice was soon, and winter was fully upon Arlington.
Victor had solidly slept away the afternoon, after the previous night's midnight ride. He had intended to get Virgil upon returning, but the others talked him out of it: Virgil would be fine, and Victor hadn't slept in over a day; get some rest before picking him up. Unfortunately, what he had intended to be a nap had taken longer than expected, and it was already very late. He'd have to go get Virgil tomorrow.
He leaned out the window, a cigarette in hand. He wasn't really looking at anything as he smoked absently; he must have been there for a while, as the room was about as warm as it was outside, and he must have planned to be there a while, since he was wearing his jacket. His expression was odd: somewhat thoughtful, mostly blank.
"Alright dude, seriously." The heavy silence was broken by a voice from the doorway. Leaning casually against the doorframe, Lucca regarded him with one eyebrow cocked. "Is there some good reason you're sitting there, waiting for the Frost Queen to abduct you or some shit? 'Cause its gettin' really fuckin' cold all up in here."
"Oh," he said flatly, glancing over his shoulder briefly before turning back. "I'm sorry. I thought you were asleep. I probably should have just gone outside..." he trailed away, tapping off the cigarette's ash.
"Oh, shut up." With a snort, the druid shook his dreadlocks out of his face and padded his way across the room towards the other man, adding, "You know, if you get sick, I aint fixin' that shit." Stopping next to him, Lucca regarded him for a moment before plopping down on the floor. He sat in silence for a few moments before prodding,  "Kay, dude, spill. What the hell is eating you tonight?"
"Nothing. Nothing in particular," he replied, still staring out the window. "Just thinking..." There was a long silence before Victor asked, "Do you think that the Kamuns, guided and powered by devils, and possibly being at least part devil themselves, should be allowed to gain power, here in Materia?"
Twisting his lips, Lucca looked up at the ceiling as he thought, "Mmmmmh, no? I'm gonna go with no." He paused, "I dunno, honestly, I feel like I don't know enough about devils and shit to really give ya a good answer, but my gut says no...it doesn't smell right; it'd fuck with the balance too much." He shrugged, then shot him a look, "Why?"
He just kept looking out the window, "Hmm...I don't think so either...the outer planes should have little business with the inner ones...Riast can empower evil mortals, that's his right. But that symbol, those names...it's not Riast, or...Yoru. It's just a demon, a powerful demon, that has an interest in them, a link to them...with its own aims. That's...not right. That shouldn't happen. But, if they are born here, half-breeds or whathave you...does that make a difference? Do they have a right to exist here, if this is where they're born? To worship...whomever, their patron? And if their family happens to gain power, legally, is that wrong?"
Listening with thoughtful, if somewhat confused interest, Lucca's expression suddenly fell at the other man's questions. He looked away, answering quietly after a long silence, "I...feel like...it's not really cool to fault them for being what they are, existing where they do...it's not like they really get a say in where they're born, you know? Or what they are." He fell once more to silent thought for a time, before continuing, "I think its better to base your judgements on what someone does...their actions and shit, you know? And then on why they do them, too. Like...I dunno...if they're causing problems, that's one thing...but...I dunno..." He made a small face, "Man, why the hell do you care though? I mean like...yeah, it's pretty shitty that they're trying to get a big chunk of the city...and they legit do seem like a bunch of dicks...but like...that's not your problem, really. And even if it was, what the hell would you even do?"
"I don't know..." he barely whispered, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Whatever I had to...I suppose..." he muttered. "...They shouldn't have it...I shouldn't have it. None of us should." He took another long pause. "They shouldn't be there. If it were natural, fine. But I doubt it. Three...tainted mortals. Empowered like clerics. It's...purposeful. Someone is perpetuating it. That's why it's wrong. Not the individuals' fault for being born. The master's fault for birthing them. Creating mortal agents. ...I wonder what he wants in Materia." He paused again. "I wonder if he's my master." He fiddled his fingers. "I wonder if I knew about them. I wonder if I should be aiding them. I wonder if I should be hindering them." He sighed, "I wonder if I should be here at all."
The younger man gave him a long, quizzical look before declaring, "Well. You wanna know what I think? I think you think too fucking much. And that you're a mopey old geezer." He punctuated his statement with a firm nod, "If they piss you off that much, we can go smack 'em in the heads a bit, weasel out some deets, that sort of shit, and then you'll know some shit, right? Otherwise, quit worrying about it. You ask stupid questions anyway. Who gives a shit if you knew about them? Obviously you don't now, and won't till you're dead, so it's a waste of like, everything, to think about it. Same goes for the rest of it. Mostly." He leveled a stern look at the older man, "Except that I can tell you straight up the answer to the last one. You should be here, end of story."
He stood quietly for a minute before finally replying, "...Well, I suppose I was paid for..." He gave a short glance over his shoulder, took a drag, then said, "That's been settled now as well, I'd suppose. From what we gathered, I've been paid for, in full and in advance; there are no further obligations. I...apologize, for projecting the contract on to you, I suppose. I was mistaken."
Lucca's eyes narrowed, his expression taking on a somewhat stony cast, "That's not what I meant, and you bloody well know it, asshole." He snorted, tipping his chin upward slightly, and looking at him defiantly, "And fuck you, bullshit apology not accepted! Try again when you actually have something to apologize for, dipshit."
It was Victor's turn to look quizzically, properly looking over his shoulder for the first time. He turned back, took a final drag and flicked the end away out the window. Closing it behind him, finally abating the cold wind blowing into the house, he turned and slowly sank to the floor, leaning up against the wall. His eyes were closed and he said, quietly, "I...dislike, not knowing what I'm doing. I hate not knowing. It...gnaws at me, not knowing for certain what I'm doing and why." He bowed his head and continued, becoming more upset as he spoke, "I have no further purpose, or master, or...anything, that I know. I know that's no different than any mortal but...then I am a mortal who is already damned, and then what is the point of anything? If I am already slated for hell, for...whatever I am or whatever I did, and if I have no purpose here other than my own, what good can that possibly be for Materia?" He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I...doubt the benefit of my actions, without a goal. I doubt the legitimacy of my actions, without a goal. And without context, I doubt that anything I do could be for the best of anyone, especially..." He stopped short, paused and added, quietly again, "...I apologize. These are...pointless ramblings...I know."
"Nice try bud, but again, not accepted. You can have your pity party and beat on yourself if that's what you wanna do, but I ain't gettin in on it. You'll know when you can apologize 'cause I'll sock ya in the jaw, so cut that shit out." He leaned back, pursing his lips as he thought,"Yeah, that shit's harsh, but like you just said, it's a thing everyone deals with. Pretty sure the only time dudes get a nice bundle of purpose and destiny handed to them is in legends; the rest of us do it the hard way." A small, crooked smile cracked his face, "Heh, you already know what you need to do anyway, idiot. You take what you already fucking have, and you roll with it! Wanna start easy? You've got your kid. Like any creature, your purpose is to get him to adulthood well adjusted and in one piece. It doesn't matter what the fuck you are or were or have ties to or where you might be going, he needs you. That is your goal now regardless of anything else dude, so says Nature; you are a parent, and by rights the purpose of your existence for the next couple decades is set." He gave a firm nod, "So there, you've got at least some purpose, some goal, and it's just as legitimate as any other being here....and it's sure as hell of the best for Virgil, full stop." He levelled him a look that was almost challenging.
He mumbled something unintelligible, staring off into the distance. He stayed that way for some time, before suddenly making a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a cough. He made it a second, third time, before it evolved into something like a sick chuckle. He pushed his bangs back and looked towards Lucca as he said, "You asked if I'd ever ignored my issues, if I pretend they aren't there. No, I seem to do the opposite. Have you ever sat and tried your very hardest to find every problem, until you're trapped under the weight of them and are convinced that nothing you do could ever possibly be right, until there's no reason left to do anything at all?" He chuckled again, "No...and I can't seem to stop. Apparently I won't be satisfied until I am utterly miserable." Rubbing at his face, he laughed, "I thought devils were manifestations of sin...unless 'pathetic' is the lesser known eighth sin. I am a master of that." Leaning back, giggling brokenly, he added, "I am probably the life of so many parties."
The druid stared at him through this, perplexed. A few times he looked as if he were about to speak, but thought better of it. Making a face, he leaned forward, "Look...I..." He stopped and frowned suddenly, "Dude, where the fuck is all of this even coming from, all of a sudden? What is the actual deal here?"
"I don't know. I, honestly, don't know. You said it yourself. I think too much. I could think myself into a coma and die, if I tried. I don't know why; I always have, to my memory. I'll...think of something, and it will cascade until I'm thinking of everything, and then I will sit uselessly staring at nothing. How do you think I sat in a solitary cell for months without going raving mad? Have I always done this? Maybe. Awfully pathetic, for a devil. Am I just doing it now, because I'm bound? Maybe. I don't know why I depress myself, I don't know how to stop, and now I am here complaining to you."
Lucca made a small 'hrrumph' noise and dropped his chin into his palm, "Still doesn't answer my question, dude. Why now? I know you ruminate worse than a herd of buffalo normally, but not like this.You were fine and fine and fine and then all of a sudden...bloooooooorrrgg. And 'everything, whah!' aint the answer." He shot him a somewhat challenging look, "So what is it? You say you think of something and it cascades? The fuck did you think of in the first place then?"
He crouched over and mumbled towards the floor, unwilling to say anything aloud. Lucca glared at him until he finally spat out, still staring at the floor, "Knowing one thing underscores the myriad I don't. If I deny the Kamun's right to live in Materia, what right do I have?" He added, his voice lower, "What business does a devil have raising a human child?" His voice raising again, angry at himself, he continued before Lucca had a chance to reply, "I am aware of the right answers to these questions! It doesn't stop me from wondering if I'm wrong!" He leaned his face into his hands, "And I won't stop wondering until I'm miserable." He rubbed his eyes and sat back upright, "This is why people drink, isn't it?"
Looking at him with a strange mixture of concern and frustration, Lucca heaved a sigh and shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair, "You are right full of dumbass questions, old man. Shit." he paused and shook his head once more, "Like...why the fuck does it matter if you might be wrong? You know the right fucking answers! So be done with it! Grow some guts and have some faith in what you know!" He let out a small growl, "I dunno, man. I'm not an idiot, I know it's no use arguing with you if you've decided you wanna be a masochistic prick to yourself. If you've decided you're gonna be miserable, I guess that's what you're gonna do, no? But I don't like it. It's unfair bullshit." He jumped to his feet and began to pace the length of the room, seemingly having absorbed a measure of the other man's agitation. "And it doesn't make any sense to me though, still! You've basically known you were a devil this whole fucking time! It changes nothing! Just because you got it in writing? Just because there is other weirdness going on too? Fuck it!" He came to a stop in front of Victor, glowering, "You're just beating yourself up because you don't know what the hell to do with your stupid feels! That's retarded, dipshit! You'll just make them worse, that way! If you don't want to be miserable, then you have to let it out, not keep it in. I mean, if that's actually what you want to do, be fucking miserable, then I guess do it. But I don't believe that, because you've as good as said like, three times since I got here that you don't. Which is it?"
Victor returned the gaze, his own somewhat flat. He regarded Lucca; it looked like he started to say something once or twice, but decided whatever he was thinking wasn't worth mentioning aloud. Eventually, he sort of sat back, looking into space again.
His thoughts were interrupted by a resounding slap that snapped his head to the side and left his cheek stinging. "Cut that shit out! Holy fuck man!" Crouching in front of him with a particularily dark scowl, the druid grabbed him by the wrist and stood up, intent on hauling him to his feet. "C'mon, get your ass up. Shit, dude!"
He blinked a few times, shocked, then stood up, rubbing his face with a bit of a sullen look.
"Yeah, you're done. This," he made a vague guesture in the air between them, "is fuckin' done for tonight. Get your sword, old man." He gave the older man an imperious look when it appeared like he was about to say something. "Did I stutter, asshole? I ain't asking you. Either grab the damn thing and play, or I'ma just kick your ass anyway."
Victor blinked twice, then replied, "...Well, I guess I owe you for slapping me." As he left, heading towards the spare bedroom that had been fashioned into a training room of sorts, he added with a bit of a sly tone, "And you say that as though I need a weapon to put you down."
"Fuckin' right!" The younger man gave a satisfied nod as he fell into step behind him, "You're a creaky old geezer, plus you've been sitting around playing with a baby for the last fuck knows how long; bet you're gettin' all mushy and shit. Without a weapon, I'd have you on your ass in under a minute!" His tone was playfully goading, and a cocky grin spread across his face as he spoke.
"Well, why don't we see?" He lit a lamp in the corner, filling the room with flickering, shadowed light. He laid his jacket down to the side, gave a quick stretch, then took up a ready stance, eschewing his weapon. A small smile played about his eyes.
With a crack of his knuckles and a haughty toss of his head, Lucca bounced on the balls of his feet a couple times before settling into a grounded stance of his own. Grinning impishly, he beckoned with one hand, "Bring it, old man!" Victor lept forward.
Category:Advent of the All