streetwalkers | YAN-PARA au master post

[It's been a lovely few weeks, really. Playing at old times and learning to fish junk out of the river has been both educational and relaxing. Even as far gone from who he was as Diarmuid is now, it's been oddly easy to slip into this routine, and he hasn't had to put as much effort into pretending to be normal as he thought he might.

There are even some moments where he forgets it's all a lie.

Of course, he remembers soon enough every time. He can't really forget the time passed, the blood in his mind, or the reason he's here. For every moment he laughs naturally, there are a hundred more where he feels the seething, churning anger of abandonment and the thrill of what's to come.

And now he's gathered all the information he needs, and alerted the proper authorities. They'll be here soon, but for now he's sitting and watching Cu sleep, seeing the rise and fall of his chest and picturing it quickened with the labored breathing of someone with a hand in their guts. He turns a thin, long knife in his hands, mapping out Cu's form under his blanket and contemplating where to stab him first.

His no-longer-friend will be awakened by the weight of Diarmuid crawling into his bed, leaning over him before shoving his blade into his side.]

[Cu's friendly, open, and even moreso with an old friend like Diarmuid. It's difficult to not let him right back in like no time has passed, like they were only apart for a few weeks. There's a lull between jobs, but that doesn't keep Cu from telling Diarmuid about all of his misadventures, prison breaks included. And sometimes he only barely keeps himself from shaking Diarmuid and telling him to come along with him, but only because that shit was what split them apart in the first place. He'll leave it like this for now -- it's easier, for the most part.

And that's why it feels like that blade cuts even deeper when he's jerked awake and see that it's Diarmuid holding the knife.]

H-Hey, what are you...?!

[His face lights up in a smile when Cu wakes, but this time it's not the gently perky smile he usually shows. It's sharp as his knife and sweet as syrup all at once, and there's an unfocused, hazy sort of excitement in his eyes.

This is what he wanted. To see that face in pain and anger and disbelief -- if he could make Cu feel everything he's felt all this time, he'd do it, but he doesn't really have time for that. Instead he pulls his knife back, casually licking the blood off of it while he sits straddling Cu's hips.]

I wanted to get one in before they take you away. Just in case I'm allowed to see you...

[Some things take a while to sink in for Cu -- arrest threats are not one of them. He shouts when he hears that, in complete disbelief]

You fucking turned me in?! Why?!

That's what I'm here for, silly.

[It's casual, the way he pinches Cu's nose. It would be cute if it weren't for the stab wound in Cu's side and the blood on Diarmuid's lips.]

...this whole time?

[He could yell, but he doesn't want to -- it hurts, and he can't make himself take enough of a breath to muster it. So instead the question is quiet, wounded.]

Mm.

[For a moment he pauses, tilting his head a little like he's listening to something. There's nothing Cu can hear, but that doesn't matter. It's nothing "real" that he's listening to in the first place, only mental recordings.]

[With a sigh, he leans back, watching Diarmuid carefully, waiting for something to happen.

But when all is still a few moments later, he grits his teeth and speaks up]

Get the knife out of me and let me go.

[He snaps back into reality at the sound of Cu's voice, at first looking wide-eyed and startled, then smiling gently. There's something feverish in his face and his movements, as he waves his bloodied knife near Cu's face.]

Of course you'd want to go. Always walking away from me...

[He sighs a little, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Cu's chest affectionately.]

Don't worry. I won't let you make stupid choices anymore.

[The moment Diarmuid settles against him, Cu tries to muster a shove. He doesn't understand what's going on or what Diarmuid could possibly be thinking, but he's positive he doesn't want to be touched like that right now.]

I wouldn't want to leave you if you didn't fuck with me, Diarmuid. You should know that!

[That shove isn't taken well. It unseats him, but after the initial shocked look his previous pleasant face twists into something both furious and heartbroken. It's the look of a crazed, wounded animal, and he lunges for Cu's throat with his bare hands.]

Don't you lie!

[His voice is raw, cracking, and genuine in a way that turns his previous behavior from convincing to clearly detached.]

You already left me alone! All along I was waiting for you, and you never came for me...

[Startled, he grabs at Diarmuid's wrists]

I sure as fuck did, and you know what? You weren't even there!

So what? You just decided it was fine? That I would let years pass and never contact you once?!

[He's conflicted -- he could kill Cu here and now. He wants to, even. He wants to snuff out the life that dares not to understand him.

But that isn't his job. And if Cu dies, he'll never be able to see him again. All the voices in his head are arguing, and it makes his head ache and his vision blur.]

I won't let yo go. I'll never-- I won't be alone anymore!

I felt bad! I don't know, I didn't think that much of it.

[He takes in a few deep breaths, and FUCK, that hurts.]

I don't know what the fuck happened, but you can't have me around if you want to turn me in, you know that right?

[Suddenly he smiles, bright and manic. His hands loosen a little, as his emotional train is completely derailed.]

Oh! No, you're wrong. This is a test.

You stabbed me! How is that a test?

It's my test. To let you go, or to kill you... failure. To deliver you alive, success. I will ask a reward for success.

...that's fucking sick, you know that?

Oh, yes. I'm very ill.

[It might be hard to tell if he's agreeing or being sarcastic -- the truth is that he does know, he's simply bitter about the fact.]

Could you imagine this otherwise? Me, slaughtering innocents and kneeling for the Master who orders it? I'm the Blood Rose, you know. I'm sure you've heard the stories.

[That's a bit much to handle -- sure he's heard the stories, and it's fucking hard to forget them afterwards. Bloody assassinations, whole neighborhoods wiped out, all the work of some mad, indiscriminate mercenary. Cu can't wrap his mind around the idea of Diarmuid being the one behind it all - not the Diarmuid who'd barely allow him to take junk without asking in their childhood.]

No...I can't.

Well then, there you have it. Anyone would crack under enough pressure, right? I used to say I'd never give in and kill anyone, but so much has changed. Now it feels too good to hurt and be hurt...

Anyway I know I'm crazy, but you're the one that abandoned me.

[As much as he wants to argue, he is the one who left.

He didn't think of it as abandoning Diarmuid at the time -- he wanted to take him along. He would have given anything to do that, but he wasn't going to force his friend to give up his family and his home to go be a crazy smuggler.

Whole lot of good that did.]

I told you, I came back for you.

[Another mood change, as he suddenly switches to venomous again.]

You made a token effort. You assumed everything was fine. It wasn't.

...well I can't do anything about that now, so get over it.

[He snaps, angry, because as far as he's concerned, "not looking hard enough" and "fucking with someone and then stabbing them" aren't exactly equal slights]

[He goes silent for a moment, staring at Cu with an expression very much as if he's just been slapped in the face. Then his smile comes back, spreading slowly and undeadily across his face while at the same time his eyes fill up with very much heartfelt tears.]

That's a joke, right? To just "get over it"... That's impossible. I'd have to forget I love you.

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