voidtreckerexpress | a mountain full of ego built upon a heap of trash [OPEN]

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a mountain full of ego built upon a heap of trash [OPEN]

Who: Koumyou Sanzo, OPEN
Where: Koumyou can be encountered on his way to the Stores room bright and early right after the train wakes everyone up from mandatory nap time. Or he can be found in said stores room, wedged into a corner, meditating.
When: Late Jelly 4, Jelly 5, or early Jelly 6 before it's time to disembark for the mission.
What: Koumyou is not doing well, and can be encountered not doing well (heavily disassociating). He won't talk about it to anyone who isn't directly involved, and threads may be short because he won't have any of his usual energy or interest. This is basically "do you want your character to see Koumyou in a whole other mode" post. Might be more to give them something to think about in future interactions, kind of thing.
Warnings: Probably a shit ton of drama in at least one thread.

xxxxxis exactly what you get when you can't fully do the math

In the early morning for Jelly 5 and 6, Koumyou is up as soon as the train releases his mind, silently leaving 3-C. He'll tend to anything that requires his attention, and then head for the very, very front of the train, face lacking any of his usual smiles or serenity.

The store room is the one room that no one passes through, or goes into to smoke. He's not going to take up a quiet room.

Hair half out of its usual braid, robes rumpled from sleeping in them, with dried blood still under his nails and on a sleeve, he wedges himself into an out-of-the-way corner of the stores room, folds his body into a full lotus position, and shuts his eyes.

And this is where he will stay until the train either teleports him back to 3-C or, on Jelly 6, his SCA starts to beep him with information. And even then, he'll just sit right where he is, reading through what little data there is, his face blank and his mind blanker.

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Koumyou rubs at the inside of his fingers on one hand, where a fresh scar has formed, thin as a knife's edge. It's still angry and sore, as is the healed flesh beneath it.

He rubs harder, barely aware he's even doing it.

"I..."

Damn you, Siebren. Why can't you just assume the worst and go from there? Isn't that how most people are with Koumyou? He's an idiot, he's cold, he's--

A monster.

And not just because of his ability to cast spells without chanting. Not just because he was the youngest Sanzo, the first to guard two sutras. Not just because he's aloof, not just because he has an edge to him, honed by a brutal world that even most on his world never glimpse.

That sure is a lot of fucking silence from the priest. He only vaguely remembers being spoken to.

Edited 2021-01-11 08:31 (UTC)

This is doing very little to convince Siebren that Sanzo hasn't suffered some sort of brain damage that would require immediate medical assistance. "Sanzo," he says, voice firm. "I need you to look at me. Can you do that?" Let him be an anchor, at least for now.

"..."

He doesn't want to, but after a few seconds of silently refusing, Koumyou re-opens his eyes. Glazed, focused somewhere past Siebren's ear instead of meeting his gaze.

"Happy?"

Probably not, no.

That's better, but not much. "Good. I need you to focus," he says, holding a single finger up about six inches away from Sanzo's face. "Follow my finger with your eyes." He moves it steadily from side to side, then up and down. It's a rudimentary test, but it should give him some idea of Sanzo's current cognitive baseline.

Ah, Koumyou's done this before. But he does it now, too, before his expression starts to crumble and he squeezes his eyes shut again, to keep them dry. To fight his reaction back down, like swallowing poison.

Gate, Gate, Paragate, Parasamgate, Bodhi Svaha...

"I-I don't have a concussion."

Sanzo follows along, and comments, and...well. He's in some sort of pain, and it's entirely possible it's not physical. Best not to make assumptions - Siebren cannot form a hypothesis without further data. "I doubt you are the best judge of that," he says dryly, "but alright."

But now that he knows Sanzo is still in there and functional, there are other questions to be answered first. "The person you said you hurt - do they require medical attention?" If the answer is yes, then this conversation has already taken far too long.

"Not last I saw, no."

If Devero needs any medical attention now, it wasn't directly by Koumyou's hand. Indirectly, perhaps...

He feels sick, visibly going paler.

There is little relief to be found in that answer. While it means Siebren doesn't need to abandon Sanzo to attempt to track down someone else, it also seems to adversely affect Sanzo. "Look at me," he says, hating that he keeps repeating that phrase but another one is not coming to mind and it's all he can think of to try to keep Sanzo grounded. "Do you need medical attention?"

Koumyou doesn't cooperate this time, and in fact bows his head just enough for his long, tangled bangs to swing forward and help hide part of his face. It's almost like that's what they're for.

"No."

No, he's not going to look, or no, he doesn't need medical attention?

Both.

That doesn't get them anywhere, and Siebren is fast approaching the point at which worried will become an understatement. He'd prefer to avoid it - and further damage to Sanzo - if at all possible.

But he cannot act without further information.

He sighs. "Tell me what happened."

He won't... Devero needs help, needs safety, friendship, love. He needs people to care for him, like he cares for others. But it can't come from Koumyou, not even as indirectly as it would if he tells Siebren what he did, somehow sends the other man to help him.

Koumyou can't trust that anything he does, no matter how much he thinks his own intentions are good, won't just cause more harm. The only option to him is to do nothing. He can't even go back to being dead, so meditating so deeply that he temporarily ceases to exist in his own mind, is the best he can do.

Tucked away in the furthest corner of the train, as far out of the way as he can be without taking up a quiet room just for himself. He's calculated that would draw more unnecessary attention than simply wedging himself into a corner in the stores, as he's done now.

Koumyou's voice has gone hoarse, "I refuse."

And then there's that.

Siebren sees only two ways forward from here: either gain information about the cause of the issue, or get Sanzo to someone who can treat the symptoms. Only one of these requires Sanzo's cooperation.

"You have two options," he says, calm but firm. "Either you can tell me what happened to put you in such a state, or I will take you to the medical car for treatment. The choice is yours." A beat. "A refusal or lack of a clear answer will be seen as a vote for the latter."

Koumyou's eyes finally re-open, just as glazed and lifeless as before.

His voice matches the look.

"You can try."

He may be a lot of things he hadn't realized, but he is still a Sanzo. And he does not want to leave this spot.

And there it is. Siebren had rather hoped it wouldn't come to this, but here they are.

He sighs. "Thank you for your decision." He gets to his feet and walks away.

He's halfway down the car, back turned, when he engages his powers. There's no warning; no tell; he doesn't even stop or turn around; but Sanzo's gravity is now his. A flick of the wrist should have Sanzo floating above the floor in a very abrupt but controlled ascent; after that, it's simply a matter of taking him to medical.

Should, and Koumyou does float upwards-- for a second.

Just the one.

And then he's anchored back down to the floor by countless tendrils of indestructible paper. Some are wrapped around shelves, some are pierced into the floor of the train, a few are even pushed up against the ceiling.

"I said I don't need medical attention," Koumyou says, but his tone's growing less calm with every word, ending in -- "Why does no one ever fucking believe anything I say?!"

Ah. Here we are.

Well. He'd been informed that the sutra was powerful, but now he's grateful that he'd gotten some distance before trying anything. At least it's being used to anchor Sanzo instead of attack him. He turns to face Sanzo and lowers his wrist, releasing his grip on Sanzo's gravity.

"In this case," he says, maintaining his grip on his calm as best he can, "it is because you are not acting like yourself, and you have refused to offer any form of explanation. Forgive me for acting out of concern for your well-being." The calm slips, betraying the frustration beneath the surface, and he takes a breath and slides it back into place.

"Tell me what is going on. I will listen."

"You have no reason to be concerned about me," Koumyou, however, doesn't rein in his frustration, snapping right back. "None of you do. I'm just that irritating idiot, that aloof asshole, that fuck-up!"

In his anger, he's allowed the sutra to disengage from the floor and shelves and ceiling, but it's still half-awakened. The innumerable tendrils float and sway through the air as if the priest is under water, green and white paper dancing in an unseen current.

No glow, at least, and it's only filling the space immediately around the priest. But what 'the sutra' even is is at least obvious now; that paper he's always got draped around his bony shoulders.

"It doesn't matter, even if I say it! It doesn't fucking matter what I say, it never will! The only thing that matters is my silence! That's all I can give!"

His eyes are wild, wide behind his tangled bangs.

"I will do my job. I will guard the Seiten. I will fight, and kill, and fight more on these stupid missions until every bone is broken, and then I'll fight more! And in between, I will meditate on emptiness, on nonexistence, until I can go back to not giving a shit about anything again!"

That isn't an explanation; it's something else, something deeper - deeper, Siebren thinks, than he should really be, for how little he knows Sanzo.

But they're both here now, and Siebren had promised to listen. He is not one to break his word so lightly, especially when Sanzo is...hurt, like this.

That said, he stays where he is. He is not so foolish as to approach a powerful artifact wielded by someone currently so unstable.

"Why?" It's the center of all this, he thinks. "Why do you think your words do not matter? And why would you not want to care?"

And just like that, the wind's out of Koumyou's sails, and the sutra is back to pretending to be regular old paper draped over his shoulders.

"Because no one ever listens to them. Not really."

...oh. It's a vicious cycle: act the fool, so people don't take your words seriously; people don't take your words seriously, so you act the fool.

How long has Sanzo been caught in it? How long did it take to get him to this point?

Siebren crosses the car and comes to a stop near Sanzo - close enough for a conversation, but still far enough to leave him his space. He takes a seat on the floor.

"I am listening."

"I told him."

The words are halting, hesitating, Koumyou's gaze fixed down on the new scar on his fingers instead of looking at Siebren. He rubs the thumb of his other hand over the thin line, back and forth.

A souvenir of his failure.

"I told him he's wonderful. He's kind, and sweet, and he cares, so, so much for everyone around him. And he couldn't believe me, and I understand why -- he's been filled with poison for so long..."

How can Koumyou's words ever penetrate the years of abuse Devero's lived through? So he'd kept trying, and then when the man had--

Defended Valdana, even after all of that, thrown Koumyou's own inexperience back into his face, called himself a monster...

"He has so much pain. And it was so pronounced, so deep, I knew words wouldn't suffice. So when he called himself a monster, I told him to prove it. I tried to show him that he's not."

Tears fall onto his hand from his bowed head.

"And not only did I fuck that up, and hurt him, but then I found out I've been... I've been doing the same things as the person who's been poisoning him all these years. I--"

And then, so quiet, so so quietly, "I didn't know."

But he's quick to add, "--But that doesn't matter. To me or anyone. A monster who doesn't know he is one, still is one. My intentions don't matter. I can't even trust that they were what I thought they were. After all the decades I clung to the philosophy of 'hold nothing', I don't think I have the capacity to be a person, anymore."

It's a fucking floodgate and he can't dam it back up again.

"...I told him that I love him, before. I told him twice. He never did believe it, and I see why now. It's a death sentence, where I'm from... I should have known better. I should have kept my stupid mouth shut. I should have-- I never should have touched him."

A wrenching sob, and Koumyou curls forward over his hands in his lap.

"He's lucky to get away so quickly."

Siebren had been right: this is far deeper than he has any right to be.

But he is here, with a promise to keep, and he will be damned before he leaves Sanzo broken and alone like this. He leans forward, reaches out - and Siebren's range of 'within arm's reach' is considerably longer than most others' - and rests his hand on Sanzo's knee.

"Loving someone does not make you a monster." His voice is firm, set in stone, as though he is delivering the truth of the world - and as far as he's concerned, he damn well is. "Trying to help does not make you a monster. Failure does not make you a monster."

He takes a moment, takes a breath, takes a different approach. "It seems to me that you were navigating a minefield; you stepped somewhere you did not know was unsafe, and it hurt you both. It was an uninformed decision, and that does not lessen the damage, but it also does not mean you sought it out, or put it there yourself. Do not confuse the two - do not mistake what you are responsible for. You stepped on a mine. You did not build a minefield.

"And finding that mine - making that mistake - does not make you less human. That you know he is hurt - that that knowledge hurts you in turn - makes you as human as anyone else here.

"Do not mistake yourself for a monster, Sanzo. Monsters do not feel guilt." The last word is clipped; he can only talk of monsters for so long before seeing unfeeling red optical receptors, rotating turrets, red sprayed across the side of buildings to the sound of gunfire, Annalise's smile for what neither of them knew would be the last time-

But the Crisis is decades past; his focus is the crisis before him, and he pushes the memories away, back to the past where they belong. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. "You cannot give up on yourself without giving up on him in turn, and I do not think either of you deserve that. Regardless, you have not lost your humanity. Do not forget that."

But if not Siebren, then who?

Koumyou is that close to precisely no one, now. Muichimotsu has made him too adept at keeping everyone at a distance, even though he doesn't follow the philosophy as tightly anymore. The aloof, cold moon, smiling at everyone while staying far, far out of their reach.

"My existence hurts him, scares him," Koumyou says softly, "so I don't want to exist. There were signs, I should have--"

There hadn't really been signs, per se. But his instincts had told him more than once that Devero couldn't really want someone who looks like he does, when clothing comes off. He should have listened to those instincts.

Instead, he'd coerced him, ignorantly and accidentally, but. The result was the same.

And not just in that one topic, but... how much of everything between them had been Koumyou unwittingly pulling on puppet strings someone else had attached?

Had some secret, dark, horrible part of him known, and wanted to do it anyway?

"If he hates me, that's good -- maybe he can learn to finally hate the person I remind him of, too." Koumyou reaches up to try to wipe his eyes clear with the heel of a palm, but it's a losing battle. "I'm supposed to be dead. I wish I'd stayed that way."

"What did I just say?"

Nothing that got through to Sanzo, evidently, if he's continuing on down this path. It's still too deep, and perhaps Siebren should be treading a bit more lightly, but-

Just because he promised to listen does not mean he will in turn be ignored.

"You cannot give up on yourself without giving up on him in turn, and I cannot think of a more complete method of giving up than desiring your own non-existence. You are in pain, and he is in pain, and pain will fade." The heart will heal eventually, unless concerted effort is made to the contrary. "When it does, you need to be there to either fix the problem or provide closure."

He leans in, voice a bit softer. "I may not know you as well as some, but from what I have seen, you do not seem the type to leave something important undone. Not when it pertains to someone you care so much about." And he obviously does care - he would not be in such a state if he did not.

Edited 2021-01-16 05:54 (UTC)

"I've hurt him in ways my presence can never fix," Koumyou whispers, because if he speaks any louder he might actually retch. Not that there's anything to come up if he did.

"Closure... maybe. Maybe."

That's the best he can hope to give Devero, isn't it?

Even if Devero wanted him back, he can't... see how he could possibly live with himself after what he he's done.

Edited 2021-01-16 06:07 (UTC)

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