young_oldman | IC Inbox: Empatheias

[ thank you mr. no pointy stuff man

The voice does get him to look up from the nowhere it was gazing down at, stopping the strained hum he lets out vocally, but not the one within his head. The mist at his feet seems to billow around him, that sensation of alarm filling it in the air.

He was causing a scene. Of course he was causing a scene.

But the question doesn't get an answer, none to be given except for a short return of the sound as his eyes dart to the side before a shake of his head.

And then he's laughing, forced and fake, choking on his own throat at their release as he returns his gaze onto Lu Meng. One that's hard to keep, heat growing on his face and the dizzying of his head, eyes beginning to blur. ]

I'm-- I don't know what's wrong. [ Still, he keeps that cheery sound, as much as it isn't working. ] What's wrong with me? I--

[ The words get lost in a breath and Red takes a step away, a hand over his wrist where his amulet is softly glowing between the cracks of his fingers of an alignment trying to give his encouragement, arms brought in close to his chest. His shoulders shake, the ground beneath him still darkening like a fire marking it. ]

Everything was okay. He didn't mean it.

[Those words strike Lu Meng like a bolt of lightning, and a growing knot of dread begins to twist his stomach. He may not know what happened to Red, but it's clawing at the boy's mind, stabbing holes and sending cracks in his heart and his spirit, breaking him down.

He sticks at his spot, mist licking his ankles, concerned that if he moves forward Red will scamper off like a frightened deer. His gaze softens as he fixes his eyes on Red.]

Even if it was an accident it doesn't change the fact that something terrible was done to you, Red.

H-huh? [ His eyes lift, confusion spreading like the red of his face as he pauses on Lu Meng's gaze, until his head tips inward, defensively, suspicion painting over it. ] What--what do you know? You know too?

[ But where distrust seem to close company the words that don't break and tremble, the idea that Lu Meng knows, somebody who, well, why should he know? --It earns another cough of laughter, a bitter sounding thing for as broken as it is.

Because sure, why not. Who didn't, and what was the point in being bothered about it? He doesn't want it to be, not with the dread already clinging over his body. ]

I-I just... need to stop this. [ He can't feel any of the warmth anymore from the amulet, just dangling around his wrist as a cold, lifeless object against his palm, and the mist rises higher despite the growing heat. His hands drift up then, up in front of his head and gripping tight onto clumps of his fringe. ] I don't care that it happened to me, I just-- [ breathe ] Charizard didn't deserve it, he--

[ But the words become too airy to continue without hurting his chest, his breathing trying to lengthen into more than what his racing heart is allowing. But there comes a hum, from one mind to Lu Meng's, not the best time to share a connection where the emotions come much too personal, but such things were a little hard to consider. ]

I don't wanna hurt anyone-- where can I go-- [ it lacks a voice, a tone, but pleading doesn't, nor the worry or the fear-- ] don't let me hurt anyone.

[ He had to get off of this street, to somewhere. Somewhere safer. ]

I don't know what happened [he quickly clarifies] but you're clearly not well. If there's anything that can be done, please let me help you.

[Those terrified thoughts were ones that Lu Meng had carried with him, and still do at times. Immediately he beckons Red to follow him.] Quick, follow me. I know a place we can go that's safe for you and everyone else.

[Because Red too, is a victim to his emotions. Suffocating under their weight, pressed by the fear of revealing too much, letting out too much and wrecking havoc on his surroundings. The fear of hurting people, especially those close to you. Lu Meng has been tortured by those fears, and it pains him a little to have to see someone else under that same torture.

They're a bit far off from the city gates, but Lu Meng knows places in the city, quiet places that he's been to when he feels he needs a breather away from people. And such a place is under a bridge that covers one of the more lonely canals that flows from the market square to the port. He'll lead Red there, and sure enough there's no one but the two.]

[ Despite his plea, it's hard to follow. When Lu Meng starts Red doesn't; his legs feel like stone despite every want to get away, the fear of doing anything rooting him in place. Just moving had never been such a harrowing action before, his heartbeat growing louder in his ears for it.

But a surge comes from his wrist and the amulet there, the same guidance of strength that had tried to just worm itself into him, and he finally takes it. Small and tepid, but leading into some kind of pace, body curling into itself with his head bowed away from those who might be watching, but his mind far away from them too and instead in pieces of what the amulet shares, unintentionally, through a connection not severed.

In one small, microscopic piece of fortune, it's a connection where there's some suppression attempted to keep the fluctuating emotions at bay, to keep them only on his side. One boy trying to box in what's already out and surrounding him on the outside, containing it in his own circle of space the fear that has his lungs still struggling for breath over their short-successions, and the urge to just cry out that has a hand over his mouth just to fight it.

He can't help thinking about it though, that one name. Ludger. It repeats in his head, and the images of that day--or a recreation, of black and reds, a torn up city. A figure clad entirely in black, a red gyarados, tall and high being impaled through thick scales, a redheaded boy dropping down.

It makes the panic grow, fingers tightening their grip, nails digging into the skin of his face without a care with his eyes squeezing tight briefly. Something about it then dulls, with another thought coming over it, that call from earlier--'Milla and Ludger and I are gonna prepare a huge dinner'. It's so normal, calm--the still present rumble of his emotions so odd underneath it, like something alien to the message.

It was like a fog over bubbling waters. Until a feeling akin to envy surges up to destroy it, and the fading of snow that makes a path of where he walks turns into ice instead, even trips him up. His arms save him, the palms of his hands scraping hard and dirtying from it, but the realisation of what he just felt and why he felt it that still comes to Red helps to fade that ice right away with a turn of disgust, directed solely at himself.

He gets back up, one way or another, to follow on until they're finally alone, words of blame echoing in his head ('I could've stopped, I let it control me-- it's my fault-- I need to stop-- he doesn't need to be haunted, I don't want to be like this--'). It's not a state he can appreciate right at the moment, back going against the fall and his hands once more covering his face, attempting to calm the emotions that aren't ready to die away. He doesn't look at Lu Meng, not really, but there's a point where he lets his hands away enough, just to come out in a voice hardly stable, harsh and painful- ]

I'm--I'm sorry.

[Lu Meng's quiet for a moment, trying to keep his own emotions calm because the gods help him, Red's emotions are an ugly echo of what he's been going through the past few months, and he's filled with horror that a child has to live the way he did, haunted by the guilt and the blame, anger and self-hatred eating him out from the inside.

Compound that with the fact that Lu Meng had been close to playing out the same tragedy inflicted on Red with the three boys that he cared so deeply for, and it's a wonder that he's able to keep the stonework from crumbling. His years fighting in wars manages to keep his heart and his will from wavering in the face of such misery and pain, and the training imparted by the warriors of Sharnaath help to contain his own internal conflict, keeping the external damage to tiny spidery cracks at his feet.]

There is nothing wrong with what you're feeling right now, Red. Don't hate yourself for being a victim.

[ Victim. The very word pulses a hate from him, another one of those short scoffs coming from him. The brickwork might not have so much to fear from Lu Meng, but it's another story with Red, despite the try at calm he attempts.

But no, that heavy heaving is far from calm. ]

I should've stopped. [ He should've known better, should've done things differently-- but his mind reminds him with a bitter, sick humour ] I stopped too late.

[ It still stings at his throat to speak, but Red doesn't care. A thin mist and smoke keeps covering him, over his arms like a blanket, a slight rustling coming from around his waist from the trainer balls there. He can hear them, but he doesn't dare to touch, keeping his hands where they can't destroy anything, just close against him.

Lips purse, then they release. His voice gets lower. ]

Why can't I let it go? We're both alive-- what about the people who aren't.

You didn't know any better. In your world, battles aren't through spears and swords. You couldn't have known in the first place.

[He's not going to get any closer to Red; he's not sure if the boy would want anyone to step any closer, given his concerns on his emotions.

And the images form only part of the entire picture. The name "Ludger" and the black figure doesn't ring any bells, but he recognizes Silver and the boy's red water serpent, as well as Milla, though which Maxwell is being referred to is yet another unknown.

Why the two boys and their Pokemon were in the town at that chaotic time Lu Meng doesn't know, but he suspects it's to do with all these young people throwing themselves into the thick of things and trying to help. But youth is rash, impulsive, and too often it lends itself to a sense of confidence and invincibility that, alas, cannot serve as a substitute for actual battle experience.

Red saw Silver and Silver's Gyrados injured, the latter probably fatally. Silver fell down from such heights, but from what Lu Meng observed of the boy shortly after Sosyne's Outrage ended, it's likely that Silver somehow survived. Red's source of anguish cannot be from having failed Silver.

It must be that name then, that rang in Red's head like a doombell. Was Ludger the man in the black armor then? That Silver later speaks of hosting a party with the same man that killed his beloved Pokemon would not make any sense...unless Silver has forgiven the man. As to why Silver would do so...well, Lu Meng can make a good guess. He knew Sosyne's anger had affected more than just one person. It's likely then, that this Ludger had been caught in the same rage-induced state that had enveloped Lu Meng as well.

It would explain somewhat, why Red continues to apologize and to wonder why he can't let go. But it's not the whole story; the emotions that Red have bottled up and tried to hide behind a smile speak of a deep hurt, anger, regret and guilt. Some of the words coming from Red are the very same ones that have passed his own lips as well. And then there's the matter of Charizard. He doesn't know who or what this Charizard is, but the agitation from those red and white orbs near his belt are a hint, and if Charizard is indeed Red's Pokemon, then...

Lu Meng's concern for the boy conjures up a soothing, warm wind that licks at the red mist crawling on Red. His own calm is probably helping to keep the brickwork from cracking even further, every new crack from the boy being sealed almost as fast as it appears. It sends a chill down his spine, to think of Red having to suffer like he has. And to think of why Red cannot let go of his feelings towards Ludger. But he has to know the full picture, or else he can't help Red.]

Red. Did that man, Ludger, kill you and Charizard?

[ Once the question leaves Lu Meng's mouth, Red's gaze snaps away, the rest of his head following to let his focus fall onto anywhere, anything else but him, and the answer that he wants. Yet it's fortunate that he's there, where his own emotion can mend at the cracks and the erosion Red's own cause-- and in that moment, where the boy's fear pulses outside of the bubble of the smoke surrounding him, turning into a pain that makes his hardened stare flinch with his eyelids squinting at the thought of admitting to any part of it.

Not that he had been even thinking of hiding it until now--and now, he wanted nothing else. If he ignored the man, ignored the question he gave and pretended that one or neither of them existed, then he didn't have to answer--and it was a compelling plan, one that would be so easy with his mouth already tightly sealed.

But it weighed on him too, just as much as his own body felt heavy to support, with the increasing silence telling him the folly of it. He breathes in through his nose, face grimacing at the attempts to find an answer that could still give him what he wanted, and Lu Meng too.

There probably wasn't such a thing. ]

How many people killed that day... [ His hands inch closer to each other, fingers sprawling out over the space of his stomach and chest, then moving to hide away with his arms covering the area completely like in protection. ] Who killed their best friend?

[ 'It doesn't matter,' he wants to say, the answer ringing in his head--not to his own question, which just works to make him feel the sting of such a scenario, but to the man's.

But his head then bows, a long moment passing before- ]

It wasn't their fault.

That may be so. But that doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel anger or fear towards someone that's hurt you so badly.

[He takes a deep breath. Red should know this about him, if they're going to talk any further about what happened to the boy.] I lost control of myself during that event and attacked three people that I deeply cared about. Two of them were furious at me, and I haven't seen them since.

I don't blame them for keeping their distance from me. I don't blame them for being angry at all, they have every right to do so. And no apologies I give will be enough to soothe the hurt I've inflicted on them, rebuild the trust I've destroyed, or erase their memories of a close friend and supposed protector doing the exact opposite of what he had sworn to do.

Edited 2015-12-24 17:43 (UTC)

[ He knows those first words well enough--hadn't he told Emizel close to the same thing long ago when he'd been in the same position with another? And it had come from a place of experience, where Red knew he didn't want to blame that man, but neither look him in the eye. Not yet.

But still, Red doesn't expect what follows. The confession doesn't get him to look, but his head does shift, listening closer than he had, or trying over the sounds of his own lungs at work that still produces the odd hiccup in his throat. He's not calm, still the area surrounding him a little sour for his presence, but it's not what it was. ]

They need time. [ It's a soft response, a volume that keeps. ] It wasn't you that day... that matters just as much.

That's right. They need time to heal. Bottling up their emotions and denying the validity of their hurt will not do that. It'll just cause their emotional wounds to fester.

It wasn't me that day. Just like how it may not have been Ludger. But you matter just as much as us.

You need healing as much as we all do.

[ The name--that name--makes Red flinch (why now after all this time, but there's something weird about hearing another say it), but there's just as much with the rest that gets him to withdraw in more internally than externally. There was no other way for him to do so physically, his body already close in against himself, about as much as he'll allow.

But he's silent now, at least in the way that's devoid of words. There's things he wants to say and could, but it would be repeating the same old tune (he just wanted to get over it, he didn't want to be this way-). A tune no less strong to him in meaning despite what sense the man does make, and still making most of its way up his throat, but he pushes it all back down, just keeps it in to the best of his ability.

He was being an idiot, and thinking that somehow made it easier a little to breathe at times. Just a little. The balls around his waist still shivered now and then, and there was the thin mix of smoke and mix, but they weren't as wild or as out of control before, as if following the wave of Red's mood as any emotional effect did. ]

Red. [He calls out the boy's name, gently.] I'm not the best person for you to talk to about this. I'm still struggling with my own emotions as well.

But you can overcome this. Just not in this way. If you continue on as you are right now, you're only going to reinforce your own negative thoughts against yourself, and you're just going to keep blaming yourself for things that were out of your control.

There are doctors that you can talk to. Emotional doctors. They can help you work through your emotions and help you figure out what you need to let go of what's happened.

[ Doctors? It's not even a thought that had occurred to him, strange to even hear, but it wasn't about to be one to settle now. ]

I don't need to talk about it. No one has to know. [ He swallows, shaking his head. ] This was just... it was just a fluke. I'm already getting over it.

[ Right? He was starting to let himself enjoy himself, trying to be a little more happy- ]

There's a world of difference between finding closure and stifling your emotions.

[Take it from him Red. He had to learn this lesson the hard way.]

One helps you move on. The other only buries your hurt deeper within you.

It's alright if you're not ready to talk now, but don't disregard dialogue as an option. The therapists at the hospital will keep all their discussions with you confidential, if you're worried about what Silver will think of you.

I'm not. [ It comes after a moment, the same one that he seems conflicted by the words, but that much comes to mind. And then, another pause. ] He's happy... I won't get in the way of that.

[ For him or the man he and Alvin cared about, as best as he could. It was a big city, and there was no reason for them to see each other. Not really.

And that was an easier decision than that of doctors, hospitals or therapists, when he only knew those things when it came to illnesses and broken bones. ]

I understand that desire. You wish to be a good friend to Silver, to keep your conflict away from him so that he can remain happy, even if it comes at your own expense.

But it's a risky gambit to take, Red, with unpleasant consequences for you and for your friends should they find out that you've been putting this burden solely upon yourself. [He spent the entire month of Exi (aka September) being yelled at by people for not being open about his problems, and strained his relationships with two of the kids he cares about. Oh, and Sosyne happened, which was the straw that broke the camel's back.]

Will you not consider at least speaking to someone completely unrelated to any of the parties involved?

[ Would he? It's a consideration that chills at his arms, and there's a few many reasons that his mind can make him believe he has against the plan, but he doesn't let them stay the only voice. It's an awkward pause, his breathing still deep through it. ]

I...don't how to... [ It sounds stupid, and there's a squeeze of frustration on his features at he tries to figure out how to explain it. But how would the 'I've never done it before...I've never talked to a doctor about this kind of thing' in his head be any better or useful, or less humiliating to admit?

It's a worry that stays short-lived however, when Red realises that his thoughts might not be so private as he would like, and he feels that heat of embarrassment on his skin that he'd been trying to avoid, his mind finally attempting to shut away that connection, just in case it still existed. ]

It isn't easy. [Even after a few months of therapy, Lu Meng still finds it hard to open up about his fears and insecurities. Living with an emotional health caretaker has definitely helped in that regard, but really, he owes a lot of his improvement right now to Sanae and Alvin. These two have seen him at his worst but instead of judging him and deeming him weak, they became his pillars of support, the voices of reason against the dark despair within him.

It's really only to these two that Lu Meng is willing to air his true thoughts. He can't do it fully with anyone else, not without fighting back that evil voice in his head that whispers about how weak he's become, about how he's shamed his lord and his teachers.]

It took me months and I still struggle with accepting that I'm no less a man for confessing my fears and my insecurities. I was brought up to believe that such things are a weakness. That a strong man is one that ignores such emotions and keeps them within, to not bother those around him.

It turns out that it's far harder to openly confront your emotions and to share them with others. But it can be done. I promise.

[ Red breathes, but it's perhaps the first one that isn't entirely drawn out, and while it trembles so does the rest of him, shakes that aren't going to leave his body yet. He doesn't think just on the off-chance it's not safe, but that leaves a feeling like a wall in his head, where saying anything becomes harder.

Ugh. ]

...I'll think about it. [ Up a hand goes, wiping away at his face, blotchy yet drained on colour in the places red doesn't speck it. ] I'll...I'll see if there's anyone.

IC Inbox: Empatheias

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