[Till dips his chin in a small, automatic nod. Just as Ivan had said before their battle truly began, they had woken tangled in each other’s arms. With trembling hands, Till had searched him over for tentacles, for stray appendages, for any borrowed piece of flesh that didn’t belong.
But Ivan looked exactly as he had before they’d fallen asleep. There had been no nightmare grafts. No wrongness. Ivan hadn’t blamed him, not even a little. Instead, he had eventually kissed the tears from Till’s cheeks.
How hateful.
The tears that had leapt up before now prickle hot at the corners of his lashes. His grip tightens around the notebook until the paper crinkles under his fingers. He swallows hard against the lump lodged in his throat. A few salty drops slip free, falling to burst against the page, blooming into small, dark stains where the words ought to be.
His pencil trapped in his fist, he rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand.]
He doesn't blame me.
[Till wasn’t the one who had forced Ivan into that situation with him. Realistically, he knows that. But the trauma and grief of the event don’t loosen their hold, even with that knowledge.]
I wanted it to be different this time. I wanted to protect him. I tried. But trying made it worse. It should have been me, though.
[ this is too much, way too much, and the agent wants to turn and leave at the sight of tears, someone's sadness... the story of a character right before his eyes showing raw emotion as if he were human. it makes his stomach twist into a knot, and it's not even from disgust, it's more so he doesn't want to factor this as the other suffering and feel bad. sure, in a narrative, people suffer to move the story, the characters will have regrets, they'll wish to turn back time, but it makes sense to have lows before the highs.
thinking of this as a low feels rude, wrong even, and soleum never wants to feel that way about a character.
reaching out, he takes the notebook from trembling hands as well as the pencil, he sets them to the side and shakes his head. ]
You have nothing else to explain to me...
[ even though that was till's only form of communication, the agent understands enough. ]
So please listen... I understand wanting to protect someone that you would want to take all their pain instead. This sort of place feeds off that will... it wants to break you down and make you believe all your efforts are futile.
[ what's he to say, why is he even saying anything anyway... his brows furrow as he looks to till's face before staring at the ground. ]
But... it's not true, because that place we go to isn't entirely real. What we face there never matches when we return to here. My advice...? Your efforts will show better here in your attempt to protect him, but don't let what happened there be what brings you down. It's what she wants... and you can't give her that.
Grapes is right. Why else would Sleep have forced them to compete, if not to hurt them? To grind their spirits down for her own sick amusement.
He hates her. God, how he hates her.
It is easy enough to recognize the truth in the agent’s words; it is far less simple to scrub away the ache of what happened. Still, he is right.
Till is terrified that anything he does might make Sleep set her sights on Ivan again. At the same time, he can’t simply roll over and let her keep a hand wrapped around his emotions like a noose. Reconciling those things won’t be easy, but he understands he cannot let her rule him.
He scrubs his fingers roughly across his eyes, smearing away the tears, and nods. He is so afraid of the prospect of losing him again.
Till swallows, then nods once more, a shade firmer. He touches his chest, then shakes his head and his hands, before lifting one palm in the universal stop sign. His hands tighten into fists, miming a fight, then press together as he rests his cheek to his fingers in the shape of sleep.
He’s still upset—devastated, really, by what he witnessed happen to Ivan. But he cannot stop trying to fight Sleep, either.]
[ it can never be scrubbed away, and agent grapes knows this, and that's why he doesn't tell till to forget about it. rather, use his strength here in this world where they can make more of a dent compared to that dream where nothing seems to be entirely real. as much as he wishes it was, it seems any change they're able to make starts here. ]
I know.
[ slowly he takes a step towards till, he forces his hands to shake to give off a more feeble impression as he takes the other's fist into his palm. the movement stops, he takes a deep breath as if he's trying to control himself and his emotions (and there's hope that maybe till can follow these signs). ]
You don't know how many times I've wanted to punch away my problems.
[ he tilts his head down as he nods to himself, yes... how many times he wanted to take his stress out on others, but he swallowed it down. ]
But you'll only put yourself in danger that way. That's why you don't let her know how much it hurt, the less she can use to hurt you the better... she's like a child who doesn't like boring things...
[ compartmentalize, it's the best thing soleum has ever done. ]
Be someone entirely different, and she'll find other ways to upset you, and maybe... it'll be a way that does nothing to you at all...
[Till doesn’t know if it’s already too late to hide the way he feels about Ivan. He’s almost certain she saw the way he shattered, saw every jagged edge of his devastation over what happened to Ivan during… during the performance. And he’s just as sure she realized he tried to throw the competition, too.
He doesn’t know what that leaves him with now. He believes Grapes when he says his best chance at standing against her is here, awake. Maybe he can’t control what happens in a dream, but… here she seems thinner, like the edges of her don’t cut quite as deep.
At least, that’s what he tells himself.
Still, something in what Grapes suggests hooks under his skin, tugs at his curiosity. Studying him, Till lifts his free hand, points at him, and tips his head to the side.
Does that mean that he is acting as someone entirely different?
One thing Till has never been good at is pretending to be anything other than himself. But maybe, under the right circumstances—if it will protect Ivan—he has to try. Even just a little. How is that supposed to look, though?]
[ he can study him, look him over, and all he will see is a man who's one breeze away from falling over. nervousness in his eyes, an individual who is attempting to keep himself calm in front of a civilian that he thinks needs his help. the advice is genuine, will always be, even if it's a horrible way to go about it. it's the only way he knows o protect himself. ]
...I'm sorry.
[ he realizes this as he pulls away his hands to stop holding onto till's own, it must have been rude to do that. ]
It must sound... like a bad way to handle things, but... you have to avoid causing harm to yourself, wait it out until you can't strike without any consequences.
[ he takes a step back before sighing softly. ]
I work alongside Agent Choi, they called me the Destruction King Rookie when I first joined the force because of how I handled Disasters. The Bureau doesn't pay well, but it's honest work. I have no home, I do my job, and I'm scared that I don't know what choices are the right choices. I'm Agent Grapes, that's who I am.
In the end, even if Agent Grapes is playing a part, Till does not believe it is entirely a lie. This is the second time he has reached out to Till in an effort to help him. However he might be dressing himself up, that still means he has a heart, at the very least.
Not everyone has one that knows how to beat for someone else.
Till realizes, not for the first time, how helpless he is without his notebook. He has heard there is a language some people can speak with their hands, but he knows only a few crude gestures, and he has no idea how common that hand-language even is.
So instead, he reaches out and lays his palm against Agent Grapes’ chest, over his heart—his best attempt at saying that he thinks the other man has been doing a pretty good job, despite all the uncertainty. He lets it rest there for a moment, then draws back and retrieves his notebook once more.]
I just want to protect Ivan.
[More than anything else. That is his true desire, stripped down to its bare core. He shows Grapes the message, then lifts a finger to say he isn’t finished before bending over the page again, pen scratching.
It takes a little while to write.]
Back home, humans have no rights. Our lives were just entertainment and a source of income for the bastards that owned us.
Sleep forced us to compete against each other, just like our owners at home.
[And losing, back home, had meant death.]
I'm tired of being fucked with by overpowered pieces of shit.
[So very tired. Tired in his bones, in the soft, frightened animal part of himself that never quite stops bracing for the next blow. Or in the parts that wish to lash out with tooth and nail.]
Whoever and whatever you are, I think you're a good person, who at least has a little experience with similar things to this. Your 'Disasters'.
Teach me. I'm not just a "civilian".
[Like Agent Choi always refers to him. He's been through hell and then some. He wants to think of himself as forged rather than fragile. He will never understand the clean, bright worlds so many of them come from, or what “normal” is supposed to look like.
But if he has a little training, a little knowledge, then at least he has a purpose.]
Teach me how you deal with your disasters back home. Even if you don't know how to deal with this one yet, that's fine.
I want to learn.
[He was never effectively able to make a single dent or change back home, despite fighting and fighting for so long. He wants it to be different here. It has to be.]
[ a stutter for good measure. he knows that it sounds fine, the desire the other has in his attempt to watch to protect ivan. to prevent that pain from home manifesting here again. the need to stop being just a civilian and someone who can fight back. it's something to be admired that will, but it's nothing like how till believes it to be. ]
I'm not an amazing person, I'm human. They put too much stock in me... but even if I have experience... it's not just that.
[ he exhales, head tilted down for the dramatic effect as he stares at the floor. is he even read for a crossover like this, does till have the ability to handle something of this level? it's less soleum gatekeeping something he likes, and more so trying to make sure till doesn't do anything dangerous. ]
You make sacrifices. You can't save one person, you save everyone. In this profession, if it comes between you or another person's survival...
[ if agent bronze were here, he'd say the lives of an agent comes first, but that's not how agent grapes operates, neither does agent choi. ]
Giving up your life for someone else...
[ no matter who it is. it never matters because civilians are who they work to protect. ]
Think this over... being a civilian isn't a bad thing. There are times... if things were different... that's the side I would want to be. To be an agent, you give up a lot, you look at others and think if something happens you have to take the brunt of it. It's not easy...
[Till shakes his head. How is he supposed to make him understand? He doesn’t believe himself capable of being any kind of great or remarkable person. He is no hero. If he were, things back home would have gone very differently.
One thing Grapes says is absolutely, painfully true, though.
“I’m human.”
Till, too. He has only ever been human, and that was one of the hardest obstacles any of them had to face back home, before Manhattan.
But Till has never wanted to be anything else.]
None of us has the luxury of being a civilian in Manhattan. Every single one of us has our head on the chopping block. We're not living peaceful lives. We're already fighting all the time.
[Grapes and Choi… they can’t possibly hope to save everyone here when they’re boiling in the pot alongside them. Not without help.]
I don’t want to be a hero. I’m not willing to throw my life away for some greater good, either. Not right now.
[He doesn’t feel guilty about that. He’s already been through hell. He wants to live. The only person he’s willing to exchange his life for is the stupid bug who’d try to toss his own life away first.]
But I am willing to do my part. We’re not going to get anywhere without taking some risks in this place. I’m willing to do that much for the people I care about.
Agent Choi is my direct line, he's ... my boss. Sometimes he says things that aren't just sweet potatoes, and I want to tell you what he told me... hah...
[ which is obvious, and the other has been here so much longer than agent grapes. there's no doubt about that. ]
He told me to believe in the advice from those who've gone before us. ...That's the same here too, I've been an Agent, he's been one longer than me. My advice is... being a civilian compared to an agent isn't bad, to be protected isn't bad.
[ not exactly what agent choi said, but follow the advice of those who have already been through it. he'll use that.
which he may be repeating himself, but it's hard to not emphasize that they do have the luxury of being citizens, it's just whether they allow themselves to be. unfortunately, the narrative has hold of agent grapes, he's in this position because agent choi chose it for him. ]
Letting us protect you... isn't wrong, but I hear you... that you want to do more. You...
[ he lets his words linger almost unsure. not that he's unsure, but this personality of his is pretty timid so it works. ]
You're already doing enough by supporting people... you know? There's no reason for you to go any further than that, but...?
[ the but isn't for the agent, but for till, as if he'll have something to argue against. he probably does. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
But Ivan looked exactly as he had before they’d fallen asleep. There had been no nightmare grafts. No wrongness. Ivan hadn’t blamed him, not even a little. Instead, he had eventually kissed the tears from Till’s cheeks.
How hateful.
The tears that had leapt up before now prickle hot at the corners of his lashes. His grip tightens around the notebook until the paper crinkles under his fingers. He swallows hard against the lump lodged in his throat. A few salty drops slip free, falling to burst against the page, blooming into small, dark stains where the words ought to be.
His pencil trapped in his fist, he rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand.]
He doesn't blame me.
[Till wasn’t the one who had forced Ivan into that situation with him. Realistically, he knows that. But the trauma and grief of the event don’t loosen their hold, even with that knowledge.]
I wanted it to be different this time.
I wanted to protect him.
I tried.
But trying made it worse.
It should have been me, though.
no subject
thinking of this as a low feels rude, wrong even, and soleum never wants to feel that way about a character.
reaching out, he takes the notebook from trembling hands as well as the pencil, he sets them to the side and shakes his head. ]
You have nothing else to explain to me...
[ even though that was till's only form of communication, the agent understands enough. ]
So please listen... I understand wanting to protect someone that you would want to take all their pain instead. This sort of place feeds off that will... it wants to break you down and make you believe all your efforts are futile.
[ what's he to say, why is he even saying anything anyway... his brows furrow as he looks to till's face before staring at the ground. ]
But... it's not true, because that place we go to isn't entirely real. What we face there never matches when we return to here. My advice...? Your efforts will show better here in your attempt to protect him, but don't let what happened there be what brings you down. It's what she wants... and you can't give her that.
no subject
Grapes is right. Why else would Sleep have forced them to compete, if not to hurt them? To grind their spirits down for her own sick amusement.
He hates her. God, how he hates her.
It is easy enough to recognize the truth in the agent’s words; it is far less simple to scrub away the ache of what happened. Still, he is right.
Till is terrified that anything he does might make Sleep set her sights on Ivan again. At the same time, he can’t simply roll over and let her keep a hand wrapped around his emotions like a noose. Reconciling those things won’t be easy, but he understands he cannot let her rule him.
He scrubs his fingers roughly across his eyes, smearing away the tears, and nods. He is so afraid of the prospect of losing him again.
Till swallows, then nods once more, a shade firmer. He touches his chest, then shakes his head and his hands, before lifting one palm in the universal stop sign. His hands tighten into fists, miming a fight, then press together as he rests his cheek to his fingers in the shape of sleep.
He’s still upset—devastated, really, by what he witnessed happen to Ivan. But he cannot stop trying to fight Sleep, either.]
no subject
I know.
[ slowly he takes a step towards till, he forces his hands to shake to give off a more feeble impression as he takes the other's fist into his palm. the movement stops, he takes a deep breath as if he's trying to control himself and his emotions (and there's hope that maybe till can follow these signs). ]
You don't know how many times I've wanted to punch away my problems.
[ he tilts his head down as he nods to himself, yes... how many times he wanted to take his stress out on others, but he swallowed it down. ]
But you'll only put yourself in danger that way. That's why you don't let her know how much it hurt, the less she can use to hurt you the better... she's like a child who doesn't like boring things...
[ compartmentalize, it's the best thing soleum has ever done. ]
Be someone entirely different, and she'll find other ways to upset you, and maybe... it'll be a way that does nothing to you at all...
no subject
He doesn’t know what that leaves him with now. He believes Grapes when he says his best chance at standing against her is here, awake. Maybe he can’t control what happens in a dream, but… here she seems thinner, like the edges of her don’t cut quite as deep.
At least, that’s what he tells himself.
Still, something in what Grapes suggests hooks under his skin, tugs at his curiosity. Studying him, Till lifts his free hand, points at him, and tips his head to the side.
Does that mean that he is acting as someone entirely different?
One thing Till has never been good at is pretending to be anything other than himself. But maybe, under the right circumstances—if it will protect Ivan—he has to try. Even just a little. How is that supposed to look, though?]
no subject
...I'm sorry.
[ he realizes this as he pulls away his hands to stop holding onto till's own, it must have been rude to do that. ]
It must sound... like a bad way to handle things, but... you have to avoid causing harm to yourself, wait it out until you can't strike without any consequences.
[ he takes a step back before sighing softly. ]
I work alongside Agent Choi, they called me the Destruction King Rookie when I first joined the force because of how I handled Disasters. The Bureau doesn't pay well, but it's honest work. I have no home, I do my job, and I'm scared that I don't know what choices are the right choices. I'm Agent Grapes, that's who I am.
[ at the moment. ]
no subject
In the end, even if Agent Grapes is playing a part, Till does not believe it is entirely a lie. This is the second time he has reached out to Till in an effort to help him. However he might be dressing himself up, that still means he has a heart, at the very least.
Not everyone has one that knows how to beat for someone else.
Till realizes, not for the first time, how helpless he is without his notebook. He has heard there is a language some people can speak with their hands, but he knows only a few crude gestures, and he has no idea how common that hand-language even is.
So instead, he reaches out and lays his palm against Agent Grapes’ chest, over his heart—his best attempt at saying that he thinks the other man has been doing a pretty good job, despite all the uncertainty. He lets it rest there for a moment, then draws back and retrieves his notebook once more.]
I just want to protect Ivan.
[More than anything else. That is his true desire, stripped down to its bare core. He shows Grapes the message, then lifts a finger to say he isn’t finished before bending over the page again, pen scratching.
It takes a little while to write.]
Back home, humans have no rights.
Our lives were just entertainment and a source of income for the bastards that owned us.
Sleep forced us to compete against each other, just like our owners at home.
[And losing, back home, had meant death.]
I'm tired of being fucked with by overpowered pieces of shit.
[So very tired. Tired in his bones, in the soft, frightened animal part of himself that never quite stops bracing for the next blow. Or in the parts that wish to lash out with tooth and nail.]
Whoever and whatever you are, I think you're a good person, who at least has a little experience with similar things to this. Your 'Disasters'.
Teach me. I'm not just a "civilian".
[Like Agent Choi always refers to him. He's been through hell and then some. He wants to think of himself as forged rather than fragile. He will never understand the clean, bright worlds so many of them come from, or what “normal” is supposed to look like.
But if he has a little training, a little knowledge, then at least he has a purpose.]
Teach me how you deal with your disasters back home. Even if you don't know how to deal with this one yet, that's fine.
I want to learn.
[He was never effectively able to make a single dent or change back home, despite fighting and fighting for so long. He wants it to be different here. It has to be.]
no subject
[ a stutter for good measure. he knows that it sounds fine, the desire the other has in his attempt to watch to protect ivan. to prevent that pain from home manifesting here again. the need to stop being just a civilian and someone who can fight back. it's something to be admired that will, but it's nothing like how till believes it to be. ]
I'm not an amazing person, I'm human. They put too much stock in me... but even if I have experience... it's not just that.
[ he exhales, head tilted down for the dramatic effect as he stares at the floor. is he even read for a crossover like this, does till have the ability to handle something of this level? it's less soleum gatekeeping something he likes, and more so trying to make sure till doesn't do anything dangerous. ]
You make sacrifices. You can't save one person, you save everyone. In this profession, if it comes between you or another person's survival...
[ if agent bronze were here, he'd say the lives of an agent comes first, but that's not how agent grapes operates, neither does agent choi. ]
Giving up your life for someone else...
[ no matter who it is. it never matters because civilians are who they work to protect. ]
Think this over... being a civilian isn't a bad thing. There are times... if things were different... that's the side I would want to be. To be an agent, you give up a lot, you look at others and think if something happens you have to take the brunt of it. It's not easy...
no subject
One thing Grapes says is absolutely, painfully true, though.
“I’m human.”
Till, too. He has only ever been human, and that was one of the hardest obstacles any of them had to face back home, before Manhattan.
But Till has never wanted to be anything else.]
None of us has the luxury of being a civilian in Manhattan.
Every single one of us has our head on the chopping block.
We're not living peaceful lives.
We're already fighting all the time.
[Grapes and Choi… they can’t possibly hope to save everyone here when they’re boiling in the pot alongside them. Not without help.]
I don’t want to be a hero. I’m not willing to throw my life away for some greater good, either. Not right now.
[He doesn’t feel guilty about that. He’s already been through hell. He wants to live. The only person he’s willing to exchange his life for is the stupid bug who’d try to toss his own life away first.]
But I am willing to do my part. We’re not going to get anywhere without taking some risks in this place. I’m willing to do that much for the people I care about.
[For Ivan.]
no subject
[ which is obvious, and the other has been here so much longer than agent grapes. there's no doubt about that. ]
He told me to believe in the advice from those who've gone before us. ...That's the same here too, I've been an Agent, he's been one longer than me. My advice is... being a civilian compared to an agent isn't bad, to be protected isn't bad.
[ not exactly what agent choi said, but follow the advice of those who have already been through it. he'll use that.
which he may be repeating himself, but it's hard to not emphasize that they do have the luxury of being citizens, it's just whether they allow themselves to be. unfortunately, the narrative has hold of agent grapes, he's in this position because agent choi chose it for him. ]
Letting us protect you... isn't wrong, but I hear you... that you want to do more. You...
[ he lets his words linger almost unsure. not that he's unsure, but this personality of his is pretty timid so it works. ]
You're already doing enough by supporting people... you know? There's no reason for you to go any further than that, but...?
[ the but isn't for the agent, but for till, as if he'll have something to argue against. he probably does. ]