envy_the_sinners | 003 ☓ anon text

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003 ☓ anon text

[Scar is discovering the magic of nightblogging. Perhaps not the best idea in the world, but his conversation with Ib a while back has left him thinking.

Is there actually a purpose to this second chance?]

I am curious. Do you view coming here as a bump in the road, or as a second chance for something?

[Because let's be real this can't possibly just be a giant afterlife serial killer rehab universe.]

Were we brought here for a purpose? For our own benefit?

((OOC: All of Scar's responses will be anon unless otherwise indicated.))

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I... do not know.

[Scar no you are entering the realm of Weird Messed-Up Yakuza Master/Servant Relationship, it's not too late to turn back.]

We spent almost every day of our lives together, until I was executed. His last request to me was that I not leave him alone, after I had been sentenced to die. I was unable to fulfill that request.

It was the span of a blink for me, arriving here, but for him? It had been three months. He came for me immediately, and permitted me to return to his side. We have been traveling together since I arrived in April, and yet...

I want to be at his side, in any capacity. Even if I were nothing but a tool, I would be content.

But he wants me to be myself. He has forbidden me from referring to myself as his tool to other people, [Which she's kind of breaking right now, gg Peko] but I simply do not know who I am, if not his tool.

He is my young master. We have known each other too long to ever be considered friends, I think. Friends is too weak a word.

He does not want me to be his tool, but I do not know what it is he does want me to be for him. Classmate, traveling companion, servant, all of those are correct, but they are not everything.

Forgive me. Do not feel obligated to answer.

Edited 2014-07-04 03:04 (UTC)

[Scar's response comes a little later, as he takes a moment to think this through.]

That is also something that you need to discover for yourself, then. If you are to be more than a "tool" for someone else, that is your own challenge to overcome. There may not be a need to even define the nature of your relationship. Let it be whatever it most naturally is. But this... idea that you are somebody's tool before you are your own person must stop, if you wish to consider yourself anything but.

[An inordinately long time passes for the length of message she sends in return. It took several attempts to really just boil it down to what she wants to know, more than anything,]

How do you just stop thinking that?

That is not for me to tell you. I could not possibly know. But as any drastic change, it will not be easy.

I don't even know where to begin.

[Apparently this has turned into Peko Is A Loser Who Doesn't Know How To Herself hour.]

[It's okay, Peko, Scar doesn't know how to himself either.]

I think the first step would be to speak with him honestly.

I do not think I can do that.

I would not know what to say. He does not want me to be his tool, and yet, I do not know what else to be for him. I do not know what I would do if I were not bound to him by obligation.

Be his friend. Have you ever had a friend?

Not before I came here. I now have two people now I believe I can consider friends, but...

I do not know how to be a friend for him. I cannot smile for him. I cannot do anything to make him happy. I do not even know how to comfort him.

Edited 2014-07-19 05:50 (UTC)

How do you know that you cannot?

[There's a pause, a longer one, as Peko moves outside to make sure there's no one around who can overhear her. The music in the background sounds like Goldenrod's as she switches video on and all but glares at the 'gear itself.]

Look me in the eye and tell me how I could possibly do that. I have trained with the sword too much to ever be a gentle person.

[And there's definitely something to it. Her face and hairstyle are undeniably cute for a girl who looks to be in her late teens, but there's a severe set to her lips, a hard, intense look in her eyes. There's a dark blue cloth case slung over her shoulder that Scar might be able to assume is a case for a sword.]

[Scar hesitates when her face appears on the screen. If he does the same, she'll know that everything he has said in this post has been him... Can he trust that? He doesn't know her, has never even seen her...

It's an unconscious thing, but the young woman's red eyes are what make him finally flip the Gear to video.]

You aren't incapable of compassion simply because you have a history of violence, if that it what you mean.

Am I not?

How does one learn compassion? How does one learn to comfort someone. A smile as a power a sword does not, and yet, I cannot master it for his sake.

If you care about him as deeply as you say, then you already have compassion within you. Comforting those you care for is never easy. No amount of caring makes it any easier to show it.

...

[She abruptly looks taken-aback, her free hand raising in front of her as if to fend off a physical attack.]

Is that... so...? [she manages finally, her brows knitting together.] I do not... how can you be certain?

[Could this girl actually have an even more broken understanding of compassion than he does? The world must be ending... He frowns deeply.]

Do you honestly think that people wear their hearts on their sleeves at all times?

Of course not. And yet...

[And yet everyone else she's ever met is so much better at showing it.]

And yet I cannot show it when I need to.

That is the difficult part. Or... nearly impossible, depending on the circumstances.

[Does he speak from experience? Ooooh boy, you bet he does.]

...I see.

[She takes a breath and nods once, closing her eyes for a moment before looking to directly meet his.]

Thank you. I will take what you have said under advisement. It's... Scar, isn't it?

[Since the feed isn't private anymore, she can see the name accompanying the Pokégear transmission.]

Yes. I am called Scar.

Good luck.

Thank you.

[And then a pause. She really should be ending the conversation on that note, shouldn't she? But after a visible waver, she looks back to the screen.]

May I contact you again, in the future?

You may.

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