‣ yoRHa type a no.2 | a2. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
abandonware) wrote2025-01-01 12:42 pm
abandonware) wrote2025-01-01 12:42 pm
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i n [B] o x . // EXPIATION.
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art 忱
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no subject
Then she speaks up again.]
I see. Explains you being back in one piece.
[She returns to her work, the conversation seemingly left on a hook. Then she speaks again. ]
The choice I made to fight was my own. [...] It was stupid, anyway. It was to stop the monster, but I figured the explosion would blow a hole in this simulation. Bad bet.
[This is delivered plainly, almost absently. Her death was such a non issue for her that she can speak about it like this: in practical and strategic terms. Though he doesn't say as much, she has the sense that he feels guilt. For harming others, or the destruction in the city itself, she doesn't know. But A2 has no desire to pass judgment on another person, least of all when she'd harmed and destroyed herself.]
no subject
The man shakes his head in response to her more in-depth explanation. While that does sound like an overkill, he can't exactly blame her for going to such lengths when faced with the Black Beast. ]
No, it was worth a shot. I probably would've done the same if I were you.
[ And he did, probably even multiple times. Back when he didn't know any better, he tried to destroy the world to escape from its endless loop, only to end up going back to square one. He figures it must be the same for the AI controlling this world; how long until it gets tired of watching it all fall apart over and over again?
The man moves back to looking through the rubble, moving the bigger chunks out of the way to make the reconstructions efforts easier. As he drops a jagged piece of concrete that no doubt used to be a wall into the designed bin, he unexpectedly adds one more thing. ]
... Just... don't do it again.
no subject
Self-destruction was an inevitability of her life, she wanted to say. This body of hers was only a body, a vehicle. A weapon. She had used it as such through her exile from YoRHa and endless hunt to destroy the machines. Her mind had been harvested for data, her face repurposed. Pieces of her discarded and reimagined into something better. What did it matter, what happened to this body? To her. Every moment she moved and survived was at the expense of someone else. She thought at the end she'd been able to set it right, for 9S. For Anemone, and all the others who would survive in her stead. Instead she had been taken away from that planet and placed somewhere else, with no idea if anything she'd done had even mattered. Square one.
Instead she says something that surprises her.]
You should take your own advice.
[She sounds a little older when she says this, more weary, the childish spite that usually accompanied this comeback absent today.] This place is...
The people here care about others. [...] If that's so, then someone here has to care about you.
no subject
What the woman says next gives him a pause, and he blinks in surprise, awkwardly stopping mid-lifting a broken metal beam from the debris. Never the one to practice what he preaches, he tries not to think about it too hard and moves on to the rest of her comment, which isn't any easier for him to digest. ]
Mhm.
[ A reluctant acknowledgement more than an answer, but it takes a lot from him to give even this. As much as he'd like to deny it, say there's no one here he cares for or that cares for him... well, that would be a flat-out lie, and he's never been great at those. He tried, bless his heart, he really did; he was his usual, asshole self to everyone around, making it clear he's not interested in silly things like friendship or teamwork. After all, what would be the point? His presence here is temporary, and sooner or later, he will disappear, his very existence erased from the world ─ just as it was in his own one. Not because of any destiny bullshit, but because that's the choice he's made: that the world is better off if Ragna the Bloodedge had never existed in the first place.
But life has a funny way of throwing him a curveball even when he thinks he's got everything figured out, and he somehow ended up caring a whole lot about the people here, and ─ what's even worse ─ those people care for him in return. Again. And he will no doubt cause them a lot of pain and anguish, even if that's the last thing he wants to do. ]
They shouldn't... but they do.
no subject
[A noncommittal grunt at his response. She tries not to think about how he's spoken the thing that she thought to herself all the time. She was a blight. She had watched each of her comrades die for their mission, for her. And she ended the lives of others because she refused to die. Because she couldn't just give up. To die without struggle would be spitting in the faces of those who had died so she might live.
But she was too much of a coward to survive alone. She wasn't capable of it. So becoming attached was an inevitability. She thinks, I'm dead anyway, because as far as she knew, she no longer existed in the world she came from. She had been freed of the endless and cyclic emptiness of that place. And she was left free-falling, and inevitably became afraid of a world so vast when it had before been so small, so meaningless. Of course she would attach herself to others, lamprey-like, too weak to stand on her own. Hiding behind No. 4 when she didn't know how to handle a social situation. Stammering when No. 16 yelled at her. Bowing her head in respect when No. 22 gave her some bit of advice. She'd thought she'd left that part of her under ice. But it was thawing, slowly.
This time she rationalizes this weakness to herself: she had resolved to become stronger. When Aldrip encountered some outside threat, she would neutralize it. She would be a bulwark. This way, if anything were to happen again, she would be ready for it. She was nearby to continue to gather intel and further her skill. She had a mission again.
She thinks of these things as Ragna speaks. Then, she says, simply and without inflection, a little shrug following the words:] Yeah. Humans are like that. They personify things.
But you're not like them. [...] You're like me.
[This new understanding comes with no warmth. She stares at him unsmiling, eyes flat.]
no subject
The tension is the air is almost palpable, but after a moment that seems to stretch into eternity, Ragna finally relaxes a little, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. ]
... That obvious, huh?
[ It's not something he's ever brought up during his time here; not necessarily because he's embarrassed or uncomfortable with it, but he's never seen any need for it. He keeps his past under lock and key, and this is no different, but it's also not the worst part of it. And since she's brought it up... he figures he might as well confirm her suspicions. ]
Dunno if I'd go as far as saying we're the same... but probably pretty similar.
[ He pulls the collar of his shirt down a little, revealing a small tattoo just beneath his collarbone; aside from a symbol that might not tell her much, A2 will notice a simple phrase there:
"No. 5". ]
no subject
Her eyes flit to the tattoo Ragna shows her — a designation. No wonder he had been so insistent on his humanity — that she find personhood of her own. It was not unlike Rose, who had decided on names for all of her squad. For A2 and her own teammates. Girlish and delicate words — the names of flowers. But A2 believed herself unworthy of such a thing. There wasn't a need for her to have a name or a family. No amount of kindness here would convince her otherwise.]
Pretty similar. [She repeats, somberly.] Hm. Not much good comes out of being similar to me.
no subject
How so? [ He asks, genuinely confused at first, but before she even answers, the possible reason dawns on him. Ragna frowns, adding another question with a scoff. ] You're not about to give me more of that "I shouldn't be alive" bullshit, are you?
[ Ironic, for him to be so vehemently opposed to that idea when he's come to the same conclusion regarding his own existence, though until she proves him wrong, he assumes her life isn't ruining the entire world. So no, he won't accept the idea that she's not worthy of existing. ]
no subject
[Says A2 simply, matter-of-factly. This was not the first time someone had gotten angry at her for telling the truth.] Nothing good has ever come of it.
[She thinks of 2B, naturally. Her desperate attempts to save the one good thing she knew existed in the world. Doomed to repeat a cycle of killing the one she cared for the most, over and over again.]
People like me don't get happy endings. It's just the way the world is designed. So, I doubt you'll get one either.
[A2 draws her greatsword. Then she drives it into a spot cleared of rubble, and with a grunt, sits down to lean against it. The sun is beginning to set and she wants a good vantage point to watch it.] All you can do is wait for the other shoe to drop.
no subject
The statement rings painfully true. In fact, that's something he's thought about himself more than once. So why? Why does hearing that from someone else cause his chest to tighten as if squeezed by an invisible hand? Why does he feel this irrational anger building up inside him? He's perfectly fine with the fate he's chosen for himself, but the idea of someone else resigning themselves to a similar destiny is almost too much to bear.
Ragna clicks his tongue in annoyance and draws his own sword in response, pointing at the woman with its blade. ]
... I'm not known for my patience.
[ He responds slowly, his voice low and gruff, matching the flames of quiet determination flickering in his mismatched eyes. ]
So what if I don't get a happy ending? So what if I'm doomed to fail, and will end up dying miserably? That's no reason for me to roll over and accept it. I can and will fight back until the very end! ... And if by doing that I can make a change in the world, then that's good enough for me.
[ A2's right about one thing; he's never gonna get a happy ending. But if his actions can lead to someone else getting one... if his loved ones get to live their lives happily, then it doesn't matter how much he has to suffer. ]