dies_irate | pumpkin hollow: ic inbox

He's going to keep flying along overhead now, feeling slightly better now that he's out of easy reach.

[ Why is it ridiculous? That's what Arthur said. ]

[ In Addison or here? ]

[ Addison. ] Said in a tone of 'what difference does it make.'

[ Then you should stop freaking the fuck out about it.

Arthur was... not entirely himself in Addison. And a lot of the things he said were just to be cruel. ]

He's back to being his usual self outside, in the street again. But this is fine.

[ There's nothing to find out. ]

He is still bird shaped, though he trades up to a crow for something that doesn't have to flap as hard to keep pace with the other entity. He doesn't say anything immediately in answer, but there's an air of profound skepticism along the psychic wavelength of his silence.

[ You weren't there. You don't know. ]

[ I was. Which is why I'm telling you this. ]

He's not going to bother about the bird. He's just going to go about his business.

[So if that's your only reason, you can leave.]

[ You weren't there when I was. You didn't hear him talk about you or me. You don't fucking know. And I'll go where I fucking want to go. ]

[ I didn't have to be. Because I do fucking know.

So go back to the people you were so fucking worried about stop stalking me looking for an answer that doesn't exist. ]

He gives a furious corvid shriek and divebombs John's head.

[ No you don't! Shut up! Stop it! You don't know, you weren't there, that's the one- one thing I know that you don't know, stop saying you know when you have no idea. ]

John doesn't know what triggers are. He doesn't know what PTSD is. But some part of him remembers the King in Yellow diving at him, the fight in the Dreamlands.

Losing.

And what happened after.

So while he's tried to be kind, tried to act remembering who Yellow is now and not who he was then, there isnt even a thought.

There's just a reaction, one clawed arm striking out fast and hard to swat the bird away with a snarl.

"Fuck you! And stay the fuck away from me or you won't like the fucking consequences."

Oh.

Ow.

Those are the two thoughts that make it through his head before he hits a wall and then the ground. With the second impact he's more a ball of goo than a crow. On purpose, at least. He doesn't get up.

[ It's not ridiculous. You don't know. Stop saying it's stupid or ridiculous or- I hate you. I hate you. ]

Shit. That wasn't-

He didn't want that.

He didn't want to hurt him.

He pushes down his anger at Yellow, anger he isn't the least but ashamed of to stop and try to center himself. Stop reacting.

Instead, he's going to reach a tentacle down to him. He won't touch but... it's an offer.

This isn't going to be a second Oscar. He's not... going to let his emotions make him hurt people who don't deserve it. He has to be better.

[I don't hate you. And I... I refuse to.] His tone firms up. [I'm sorry I hit you. But this shit where you attack me stops now.]

He's so...

...scared.

Very, very hesitantly, a thin limb stretches out from the blob to touch John's tentacle.

[ ...I don't want to go to Larson. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to be the King in Yellow. I don't know what I want to be. ]

Edited 2024-12-19 07:30 (UTC)

He remembers Addison.

He remembers being in the dark, in the mine. He remembers the first thing Arthur insisted they do was shake hands. And he remembers feeling silly... but also the great relief, feeling Arthur's hand in his own.

He extends the tentacle to coil gently around the extended pseudopod.

[I don't either. Not entirely.

The only recommendation I have is to act from hope, and not from fear.]

A breath out.

[I don't want to fight you. Please don't make me.]

He stretches out another couple of limbs to gently explore John's own.

[ I don't know how to not be afraid. ] Somehow it's easier to say that after whatever broke to make him say the rest of it. [ I- ]

[ I don't want to fight. ] For one thing- [ I'm bad at it. ]

Something in the invisible center of his feelings starts to crumble and he can't tell if it's a good or bad falling apart.

[ You're so beautiful and strong. ]

Edited 2024-12-19 07:49 (UTC)

John sends a couple of little tendrils in return, gently offering, coiling and sliding soft over Yellow's.

[ I didn't say 'don't be afraid'. I'm afraid a lot of the time too. ]

That... isn't easy to say. Vulnerability isn't something he's easily shared with people. But Noel had done his work in being a Second Person. And this Yellow...

This Yellow hurt him. And hurt Noel. But doesn't... want to. That has to matter. It has to matter, because otherwise it wouldn't matter for him. And it has to.

Yellow's words hit him somewhere in his center mass, somewhere between that handshake in the mines and Arthur calling him 'undefeated'. He doesn't feel like those words are him, that they describe him. They feel like there's something around him that's too tight.

[ Yellow is a beautiful color. ] is what he finally says back to that. [ And strength isn't not being afraid. It's being afraid... and doing what you need to do anyway. ]

He doesn't know what to say to John calling yellow a beautiful color. He doesn't know if he believes that definition of strength. The doubt is incredibly obvious, but he at least doesn't voice it.

[ You're not really going to replace me, are you? ]

[ I can't. People aren't replaceable.] His tone is wry. [ That's why Arthur was upset at you. Not because there's anything wrong with you. ]

A deep breath. Might as well cover it just in case.

[ And I don't want to anyway. I want to be me. Not you. ]

Oh.

Oh, that's...

Put like that, said like that, it--

Oh.

It's like someone trying to be Sally, or Gwen. Or pretending to be FarmJohn. Yellow feels sick at the idea of any one of them being hurt, or lost, but imagining trying to get them back and getting someone else--

There's a few stunned seconds of silence, and then he carefully shapes the human form he's mostly been using. He's still sitting on the street, but he's at least... himself-looking, now. Both hands pressed gently against John's outstretched arm, a few shadowy tentacles still touching John like he might evaporate.

"I don't want to hurt anyone." He doesn't know much, but he knows that. "I don't want to end up with Larson. I want to stay here."

John's not evaporating. The only thing really going on inside his head is that he's solidifying the fact that he's never telling Yellow what happened after the Dreamlands. He doesn't need that.

But he is going to stare a little at seeing Yellow look...

Huh. Not something he'd thought of. He probably should have, but that would also involve knowing what he'd look like and he can't even imagine himself like... that. So it's a thought that'll get put into the back of his head as he remains as he is.

"Hopefully, you can." A breath out. "He seemed like a rat bastard. And the people here seem better."

It's small and stupid and a version of a mannerism he's accidentally adopted from Gwen, but Yellow leans forward to rest his forehead on John's arm.

"They're all... nice. They've all been kind, even- even before I-" It's embarrassing. "Even when I was an asshole."

Just like John was kind when he got here, and Yellow was an asshole then.

He strokes the fingertips of both hands over this being that was part of him, or that he was part of, and marvels a little at that. "I'm still an asshole. But I'm... trying not to be. I was trying not to be."

"Do you think Arthur will... Do you think he still wants to trust me?"

Edited 2024-12-20 04:19 (UTC)

"That makes two of us," he notes, voice wry. But he takes the question a little more seriously.

"As for Arthur, I think he does, yes." He remembers Arthur apologizing, and while he had directed it at him in the end, he didn't think it was all for him. Arthur had heard Yellow's voice, his pain, the same as he could. And they'd been on opposite sides, but he does't think Arthur blamed Yellow for that. Larson had brought out the worst in him, twisted his pain into the worst version of... them.

"Though I'm not a 'pet'," and his tone is a little flat, because seriously? Seriously? "And you should probably apologize."

He winces. "To you or him?"

Both, kid, the answer is both.

"...what do you think?"

Sally's exasperation at other things in his proximity has gotten Yellow to stop flinching most of the time when someone sounds irritated. In this particular moment, with how raw everything feels, he still manages not to cringe. Just brace himself a little and make a slow guess.

"...You and him?"

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