Life's a bitch and then you die
It hurt. So much. Tyki swung the chair in his hands again and again, smashing the glass lining the hall wall, the destruction somewhat relieving the ache, until the pain overwhelmed that feeling of angry vindication. The rest of the window he shattered with his powers of rejection, setting the chair down and sinking onto it.
He was barefoot, only his pants on, but even still he felt too hot. His skin ached, stretched taunt where the scars marred him-the cross shape of the marks an irony not lost to him. Road sat silent vigil nearby, but for the moment he couldn’t find words. Couldn’t even decide what he wanted to say. He was in pain. He was angry, filled with a hatred that wasn’t his own. Had he felt this way before the Ark? He couldn’t recall. The pain was definitely new, the reminder of that fight wouldn’t go away. But had he felt such rage before he fought the boy?
The boy. That was the trouble. The kid he’d failed to kill three times now. The host of the traitor Noah. The one that puzzled even the Earl. That damn kid with his damn Innocence and idealism and... Fuck if everything didn’t hurt like a bitch. He wanted to murder something, but that would require moving. He leaned over, elbows on his knees, letting his hands hold his head.
He could feel it there in his mind. Had since the Ark. That presence, sinister and familiar. It was part of him and he was part of it. But it was hurting him, it hated the feel of his scars, the Innocence inflicted wounds that filled him with such an instinctive rage that he had difficulty articulating. He saw it too, now, at times, in the shattered glass at his feet, the grinning, featureless face. It wanted him. This was new as well. It hadn’t been there before. Oh, it had, but not so... loudly, for lack of a better term. It’d been more dormant, a background thing. Urging on his black side, and that was enjoyable. But now it was really awake. Perhaps for the first time since he’d become one of the Noah clan.
That was fine. That was inevitable and what he was. Wasn’t it? Sometimes he felt like they kept things from him, Road and the Earl. But he never asked, they never offered. He was a Noah, that was good enough, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that all? But this pain, it was comparable to only one thing he’d known before, his awakening as one of the Clan. This felt like that, only quite a lot more so. The agony was similar to then, however. And just as it had then, it scared him. The thing in his mind scared him even as it filled him with an indescribable excitement. Agony, euphoria, it was all a bit mixed just like it had been when he’d woken to find Road and the Earl at his bedside welcoming him to the family. He’d been more confused then, clueless to the power he’d gained, to what he was.
He wasn’t so clueless now, and yet it still felt as if he were missing major pieces of the puzzle. Road had hinted things before, but nothing could prepare one for this feeling.
And it all came back to the boy. With his sword that was meant to Exorcise evil, and had left Tyki instead with a new hair cut and new scars and the feeling of something angry and alive roiling inside of him. Like having a pissed off tiger living inside your ribs. Dangerous, exciting, intoxicatingly powerful. Confusing. He didn’t recall it being like this before. Before he’d had more... Peace. Inside his own head. He didn’t want to lose that, the balancing act that made the entire double life of his fun. He’d worked hard not to lose his humanity even while he reveled in the corruption of power. This seemed like such a threat to his white life, and yet, at the same time, it was so appealing.
It was going to make everything so much harder though. Even if he didn’t know exactly what was going on inside of him, he knew that much. He could tell, just by existing, that the violent urges were stronger. The destructive impulse. The greedy desire to take everything beautiful in the world and twist it until it shattered, so that it would belong to him only, because all things he killed belonged to him in the same way a hunter collected trophies.
That was definitely going to put a bit of a damper on his white life. On his human existence. But he was too greedy to give it up, either. He wanted both because both vindicated him. Both validated two parts of what he was, and he refused to leave one behind. He was stubborn. But his instincts were so much worse now. It really would be hard. Would it be worth it? To get wat he wanted... He didn’t know anymore.
He growled, dug his fingers into his scalp. He was lost in all this, he was a man dedicated to pleasure, not self-awareness. The tools of better understanding, if they were within his grasp, eluded them. And maybe he just didn’t want to know. Maybe it was better he didn’t know, whatever was going on.
Surely if he needed to know, Road would have told him by now.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Road’s voice broke his reverie.
“What’s wrong, Tyki~?” There was an unreadable note to her usual lilt.
For a moment he didn’t answer, trying to find his voice. So many questions to ask. But he stuck with the simple one, the one that was the most urgent.
“My wounds. ...They’re aching.” Such a mild way to put it. But really, how could he describe the mixture of hate and pain? Anyway, it was Road. She’d understand. “Tell me Road. Please. What is this feeling...?”
He wasn’t sure he expected her to answer. Wasn’t surprised when she didn’t. Maybe that was a relief in a way.
He was barefoot, only his pants on, but even still he felt too hot. His skin ached, stretched taunt where the scars marred him-the cross shape of the marks an irony not lost to him. Road sat silent vigil nearby, but for the moment he couldn’t find words. Couldn’t even decide what he wanted to say. He was in pain. He was angry, filled with a hatred that wasn’t his own. Had he felt this way before the Ark? He couldn’t recall. The pain was definitely new, the reminder of that fight wouldn’t go away. But had he felt such rage before he fought the boy?
The boy. That was the trouble. The kid he’d failed to kill three times now. The host of the traitor Noah. The one that puzzled even the Earl. That damn kid with his damn Innocence and idealism and... Fuck if everything didn’t hurt like a bitch. He wanted to murder something, but that would require moving. He leaned over, elbows on his knees, letting his hands hold his head.
He could feel it there in his mind. Had since the Ark. That presence, sinister and familiar. It was part of him and he was part of it. But it was hurting him, it hated the feel of his scars, the Innocence inflicted wounds that filled him with such an instinctive rage that he had difficulty articulating. He saw it too, now, at times, in the shattered glass at his feet, the grinning, featureless face. It wanted him. This was new as well. It hadn’t been there before. Oh, it had, but not so... loudly, for lack of a better term. It’d been more dormant, a background thing. Urging on his black side, and that was enjoyable. But now it was really awake. Perhaps for the first time since he’d become one of the Noah clan.
That was fine. That was inevitable and what he was. Wasn’t it? Sometimes he felt like they kept things from him, Road and the Earl. But he never asked, they never offered. He was a Noah, that was good enough, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that all? But this pain, it was comparable to only one thing he’d known before, his awakening as one of the Clan. This felt like that, only quite a lot more so. The agony was similar to then, however. And just as it had then, it scared him. The thing in his mind scared him even as it filled him with an indescribable excitement. Agony, euphoria, it was all a bit mixed just like it had been when he’d woken to find Road and the Earl at his bedside welcoming him to the family. He’d been more confused then, clueless to the power he’d gained, to what he was.
He wasn’t so clueless now, and yet it still felt as if he were missing major pieces of the puzzle. Road had hinted things before, but nothing could prepare one for this feeling.
And it all came back to the boy. With his sword that was meant to Exorcise evil, and had left Tyki instead with a new hair cut and new scars and the feeling of something angry and alive roiling inside of him. Like having a pissed off tiger living inside your ribs. Dangerous, exciting, intoxicatingly powerful. Confusing. He didn’t recall it being like this before. Before he’d had more... Peace. Inside his own head. He didn’t want to lose that, the balancing act that made the entire double life of his fun. He’d worked hard not to lose his humanity even while he reveled in the corruption of power. This seemed like such a threat to his white life, and yet, at the same time, it was so appealing.
It was going to make everything so much harder though. Even if he didn’t know exactly what was going on inside of him, he knew that much. He could tell, just by existing, that the violent urges were stronger. The destructive impulse. The greedy desire to take everything beautiful in the world and twist it until it shattered, so that it would belong to him only, because all things he killed belonged to him in the same way a hunter collected trophies.
That was definitely going to put a bit of a damper on his white life. On his human existence. But he was too greedy to give it up, either. He wanted both because both vindicated him. Both validated two parts of what he was, and he refused to leave one behind. He was stubborn. But his instincts were so much worse now. It really would be hard. Would it be worth it? To get wat he wanted... He didn’t know anymore.
He growled, dug his fingers into his scalp. He was lost in all this, he was a man dedicated to pleasure, not self-awareness. The tools of better understanding, if they were within his grasp, eluded them. And maybe he just didn’t want to know. Maybe it was better he didn’t know, whatever was going on.
Surely if he needed to know, Road would have told him by now.
As if summoned by his thoughts, Road’s voice broke his reverie.
“What’s wrong, Tyki~?” There was an unreadable note to her usual lilt.
For a moment he didn’t answer, trying to find his voice. So many questions to ask. But he stuck with the simple one, the one that was the most urgent.
“My wounds. ...They’re aching.” Such a mild way to put it. But really, how could he describe the mixture of hate and pain? Anyway, it was Road. She’d understand. “Tell me Road. Please. What is this feeling...?”
He wasn’t sure he expected her to answer. Wasn’t surprised when she didn’t. Maybe that was a relief in a way.