I've been planning to do this for months...and now I'm doing it. Yes, it's another one of these topics, although of a different sort. It's based more on a circumstance and the emotions during that time than a really specific emotion, although there are a few of those in there as well. Note that those from Pretend to Nightmare hold a slightly different timeline, which will be explained shortly.

20. Pretend
25. Longing
10. Villain
04. Dream
88. Hug
05. Nightmare
92. Sacrifice
96. Goodbye
80. Stand Tall
87. Kiss

Title: Can't give it away
Emotion: Pretend (20)
Rating: Umm...none actually
Author Notes: Gwyenth involved, so if you don't know about her, go look her up.

Colin grinned across the table at his friends. They were sitting in the shade at school, the sunlight lazily playing across their backs as they tried to stay away from it. He tried to ignore the slight of the girl that sat across the way, staring at him with a slight grin on her face. He shook as someone grabbed on to him, his body automatically flinching away from the touch of another person. He still hit the floor, the person, a shorter fellow who had more bulk, simply running him into the ground. The boy felt himself hit the floor, the concrete roughly stopping his fall with a small crunch. It wasn’t much, a bit of pain and a nasty ass scrape that wouldn’t go away for a bit, but it was easily dealt with. What wasn’t easily dealt with was the cocky as hell grin that the girl shot him.

He grinned back, much more of a sheepish smile as he looked at her. The kid helped him up, apologizing as he did so for shoving him over. Colin just grinned and shook his head at the kid. He was a year younger, but was hanging out with the people that were above him. That was easily excusable of course, the people he wanted to be with were the eccentrics, the odd kids. Nobody except those few friends that he had knew him of course, so the poor guy didn’t have any idea about what to expect.

”Don’t worry about it at all, I’m fine.”

He didn’t say much…but then again, why would he? He wasn’t exactly all that well in the head, something that not everyone knew about. It wasn’t as if everyone read the newspaper, or knew that he had killed someone; even if it was in self defense. He glanced over at Gwyneth, the product of that…and something that only he knew about. The girl in the black shirt smiled back at him, the vision transmitted…by his own brain. A hallucination if you would. She wasn’t actually there, she existed in his own mind, but he could always see her. It was so hard to ignore that she was there all the time. People often asked what he was staring at, or listening to, when he just stopped and looked at her antics. He would always grin and answer with some outlandish thing, always lying, always pretending that nothing was strange.

He got back in his chair, reaching for the soda that he had in front of him, grabbing the caffeinated drink and bringing it close to his lips. Then a finger poked out and touched his lips before vanishing back into the soda can. He choked, coughing as he rocked forwards in his seat, spilling some of the soda over his hand.

“What was that about?”

He coughed, surprised and very irritated. He glared daggers at a very innocent looking woman before he laughed at his own mishap. It was the easiest way to deflect a potential inquiry about what was happening. Of course, he knew that some people would be suspicious, especially because he had gotten rather odd after he had killed someone with their own gun. This was to be expected, as blowing someone’s head off when you were sixteen was a rather strange and hard experience to have to deal with. So he could cover it up that way, pretend that it was all just a side-effect of that. It was almost the truth as well, almost the entire truth. He just wasn’t telling them everything.


”I just got distracted and thought I saw something.”

This was also the truth…he did think that he had seen something. But he was only fooling himself. To his eyes, Gwyneth was entirely real…he could hear her, he could see her, smell her…even his skin tingled when she ran a hand over his arm. This was all his body reacting to what he thought was there…but he could put a hand right through her and nothing would happen. She…wasn’t really there. It was all an imaginary universe in some respects, his entire world revolved around pretending that someone was there, because…to him, she was.

Name: Just can't move on
Emotion: Longing (25)
Rating: None? There's a cute scene...but that's it really. Supposed to be sad, but I doubt I managed to do it.
Author's Notes: This is set...after the fire, but before R:2.

The man stood by the railing, gazing out over the gray waters that stretched out to the horizon. His brown hair ruffled in the wind, the sun hidden overhead by the charcoal clouds that hid the sky from view. His eyes lazily glanced over the waters, watching humanity by the beach as he stood, gripping the wooden rail that served as his balcony. Men and women played below him, some as couples, some as friends…and he stood above them all, watching, unable to join in at all. The beauty of the day was lost on him entirely as he gazed on the scene below him, emotions once again rising to the surface of his mind. Emotions that he had hoped were buried bubbled up again, washing over him as he tried to tear his eyes away from all the happy people below him. But they had already captured him, just like they always did. They made him wish for his past, when he could have done that as well. Now…he didn’t know if he ever could again. As he tried to find himself again, tried to find where he could be happy looking at that scene, all he could feel was the black hole in his soul.

He was trapped, gazing and trying to have what he no longer seemed to be able to find. Not right now at least. Maybe if it hadn’t been so soon after the last attack, then he would have been able to gaze upon the scene with a sort of happy peace. His right hand twitched again, white skin looking back at him when he managed to tear his gaze away momentarily. Of course it had been getting worse, every year it was harder to hold on…every year he wondered if he should just give up and let go of his life. But he knew he wouldn’t, it was useless to speculate. They had driven that possibility out of him, whether they knew it or not. It had only happened a few times of course…just a few times, and he knew approximately how long it would take until it grew too much for his body and his will. He tried to count, attempting to tear his gaze away from the happy people below him. But it was no use, his attention found itself focused on a couple.

They were normal, two very happy people lying on the sand watching the sun. They were obviously in love, the woman’s long brown hair spread around her head, a few strands running over her lover’s body. He was…so happy just to be there, if you could trust the look on his face and the way that he was cuddling next to her. Even as the man on the balcony watched them she reached over and muttered something into his ear. All the observer could see was his laughter and then the kiss, filled with passion…and love.

The man on the balcony still couldn’t look away, his gaze fixed as a dying man stares at water. His hands began to shake again, unable to look upon the scene and unable to look away. Why couldn’t he ever find something like that again? Why couldn’t he move on? His breath became ragged and uneven, eyes saddened and yet happy at the same time. Pain entered them right before the tears sprang to his eyes, hot and burning as they ran down his face. He reached out with one hand, reaching for the couple before letting his body collapse over the wood, tears dropping down to the ground below. With a final shuddering gasp he tore himself away from the scene, running into his room before slamming the door. The heavy thud reverberated around the room as he collapsed to the wall, sobbing as love and pain tore through his again.

Why can’t I forget you? Why can’t I just move on? Why…

He convulsed again, hitting the ground as his hands curled into tiny balls, scratching the ground hopelessly as his mind went on, sending image after image through his vision. The last one broke him again, and the emotions that he had hoped buried flooded him again.

Gwyneth…come back to me for just one second.

Name: Shatter Innocence
Emotion: Villain (10)
Rating: Gets to be fairly violent, maybe a little graphic. Murder, swearing.
Author’s Notes: Set at the very beginning of this site actually, I’m redoing this because…it needed to be redone. Instead of the crappy shit from the beginning, I’m doing it now when I can actually write. Going to be in a solo that I have later, but getting it done now. It takes a while to get going, and is very cliché, but oh well.


Colin glanced towards the sky, thick clouds overhead promising rain inside the hour, and wondered why something seemed wrong. Maybe it was because he was about to meet someone that he had never even heard of before that day, and hadn’t even met or talked. There was only the note that told him to be somewhere, and here he was, getting on his damn bike to go meet with this guy? What was wrong with him? He should know better than to just walk up and start to talk to a guy. But he didn’t really have a reason not to, even though he had just as much a distinct lack of a reason to go in the first place. Maybe, he thought, it would give him some good in life. A meaning perhaps? Something was motivating him to go, but even though he was doing it…something was still wrong. Maybe it was that the air was thick with the promise of a hard rain. It had been a while since they had rain last, so perhaps it would be good. He needed to get out there and back as quickly as he could though, because he didn’t necessarily want to be caught in the rain.

Granted, he loved the element, it was perhaps his favorite thing. Water…that and the lightning which symbolized his fluid changes from mood to mood, or maybe he just liked the way that it held him when he went into it. Swimming was a good hobby, a fun hobby, just as much as the martial arts that he had done because his mother was a nagging woman who told him that he needed as much exercise as possible. His half-smile died. He had gotten fairly far in Kung Fu, which was good, but he still didn’t like how his parents forced him to do things he didn’t want to do. Just because he spent all of his time playing video games, especially first person shooters and arcade games, they went on forever about how he needed to find other interests. He didn’t give a shit about other interests right now. He was, fortunately, a fairly good gamer who had made a fair amount of money playing in tournaments, to the point that he had several hundred thousand dollars saved up. Perhaps that was why his parents didn’t like it, because he had made more than they did, put together, in a few months than they did over the course of almost a year.

He put his thoughts of parental problems aside as he sped up on his bike, the hum coming from his front tire reminding him that he really did like to ride a bike. The machine was incredibly useful and a lot cheaper than a car was, not to mention a lot faster than walking. Because he didn’t have a car, it would take him nearly as long to get to the mall as it would to get there and back car. He didn’t care though, and he liked the feel of riding through traffic. Especially since he would be taking a very busy route. The smile on his face returned as he dodged into traffic, evading a few cars to get his blood racing as he turned onto the main street through Santa Rosa.

It was nearly a full half hour later when he finally was done parking his bike and began to walk to the meeting place. It was the weekend, so there were plenty of people around, shoppers coming and going right before everything shut down for the night. It wasn’t that late, but the mall always closed somewhat early compared with a lot of other specialty stores. He looked around, trying to find the person who had wanted to meet him…and found him nearly instantly. He was standing by the giant marble hand, slouched, with a big black trench coat and a strange, glazed look to his eyes.

Why, Colin muttered to himself, did this start to turn into a cliché? Here he was, meeting someone he had never met before, and the damn guy was wearing a black, leather, trench coat. He scowled slightly, the atmosphere turning dark and foreboding, and he wondered exactly where he was going to do. His eyes took in the stranger, wondering what a six foot six man wearing all black had to do with him. And what the hell was it with this guy, or, for that matter all tall strangers, and black? The only thing that wasn’t black happened to be the hair…and the strange eyes that still gazed at him with this strange quality to them. What the hell was up with those eyes anyways? Or…even more strange, what was up with the strange slight bulges in the man’s coat? Granted, it was his stuff, but the damn things were everywhere.

He walked up next to him, trying to stand a respectful distance away while showing that he wasn’t that afraid…which was a lie. He was slightly scared, and who wouldn’t? He was meeting with a guy, close to when it would rain, and it was getting close to nightfall. But when he spoke it didn’t have a trace of fear, just curiosity.

“Why did you flashmail me? Why did you bring me out here? And how the hell did you know my real name?”

The man chuckled, the eyes finally reacting and swinging down to face him. That was when Colin had a better look at his face. There was something in that which screamed at his instincts to run away, but he ignored it. After all, his life couldn’t be that much of a cliché.

“I wished to meet you for various reasons, and I happened to be able to find out your name and character through various sources."

That was, the boy admitted, kinda creepy and perfectly logical. And it didn’t answer any of his damn questions at all. He was annoyed by that, the man just deftly sidestepping everything by technically giving him what he wanted to hear without actually giving him what he wanted to hear.

“Alright, what are your damn questions?”

He knew he had let some irritation slip through, it was reflected in the subtle change in the man’s stance. Who was he anyways? He didn’t know this man’s name even though he certainly knew Colin’s.

“I only have one important question. What element are you going to use the most in The World?”

Even before he got to the question the boy was beginning to question the wisdom of coming out here. The almost…sickeningly sweet way he said important was enough to set him back a step, especially after he watched the eyes begin to shine. Then the question hit, and he was stunned. He was called out here for that? How much of a nut job was this guy in the first place? Had to be, there was nobody who really cared that much about what element someone else used. Still…he already knew his answer, but when he told the man the look that crossed his face made the boy want to run. Something vile lurked there, something wrong. Even his response was off. Something about a “society” and only allowing one element. What the fuck was up with him? It was almost as if he was…

On a drug.

The reality of the situation crashed down on Colin. Was the guy in front of him seriously messed up? That would explain the eyes, the glazed quality, and the strange questions that he had asked. This was, he decided, the time to head home and get away from this guy. So when he said that he was free to go he didn’t need a second invitation, he turned around and started to walk away. He glanced back once to see what the guy was doing…and found himself looking at the barrel of a gun. The cast of the man’s features was now more than irritated, it was menacing…and here he was, facing a man, in a trench coat, who was a stranger and now wanted to kill him. Right when it was about to rain. Now his life was definitely, provably, a cliché. But then, wasn’t a cliché something that happened in life?

Reality came down harshly when he saw the finger tighten, and he jerked his hips to the right. The second that he started to move he saw the flash of light, right before the roar of the gun came to him. He twitched, jerked backwards by…something. He regained his balance in time to see everyone start to scream, and noted with detached interest that a policeman had just pulled around the corner. He was wondering why he was so apathetic when the pain hit. He started to run as fast as he could at an angle as he looked down…a neat hole blown through his shirt and his flesh. Pain bit deep, a shaft of fire burning his left side. The back of his shirt started to cling to him, and he realized that not only had he gotten shot, but the bullet had burrowed his way through his body. White hot lances of pain blasted through him as he moved, trying to run even with a hole in his body.

The man’s aim was off, he could see it in the way that the gun was held, and he darted inward. The gun was pointing right at him when he dived into a roll, the bullet pinging off the concrete behind him before the sound from the gun roared past him. It was, he decided shakily, somewhat loud. He came up out of his roll, the pain in his side now a minor pest because, if he didn’t do this right, he was dead. The gun was in reach when he nailed the wrist, causing the surprised man to drop the gun into the boy’s waiting hand. He whirled, taking a few steps to the side before he turned back. He vaguely noticed the policeman getting out of the car, saying something to his radio. Some things seemed slightly blurry, and he realized that with the hole in his side, he was going to be getting a fair amount of blood loss. However, his attention was as sharp as ever when he noticed the butt of another pistol.

He felt his control slip away in that second, could only see the gun and the man’s head. His own gun sat heavily in his palm, fingers curling around it even as he brought it up. He had been playing arcade games for how long now? He knew a fair amount about how to aim a gun in a game, and some of those skills could be transferred over to real life. But what had never been taught was the ability to aim for something non-vital. Something that would let him live. Every instinct and mechanic in his body was focused on the headshot, the one thing that would let him kill with savage efficiency. There was no time to stop it, his brain was just reaching up to his reflexes, to aim towards the leg, or the arm that held the gun, when his finger pulled the trigger.

He had never really appreciated how loud a gun sounded until that moment. Something about the hefty knowledge that you had just taken a life, that someone had just died because of you. The flash of light from the muzzle had kept him from seeing for a split second, just enough time for the bullet to plunge straight into the man’s head. Colin held the gun, the cold piece of metal with a small sliver of smoke rising from the barrel, while the man stared at him. All he could see was the eyes that were focused on him, glazed eyes slowly…dying. The life left them in that second as blood drained from the wound, a shot that had landed right in the forehead. For another second the body stood upright, unable to fall…and then it came crashing down. The gun that he had been reaching for hit the ground with a clank, shortly followed by its twin.

Colin stood there, staring at the body of the man he had shot, the only thing that he could actually see were the eyes that had died. Even while drugged, or insane…they were still alive, and he could see the difference between life and death. Vibrant orbs versus dead marbles. He shuddered…and wondered what was going on. He couldn’t concentrate at all…and then the blackness swept over him, blood silently seeping from the bullet hole in his side.

Name: Never Believe it Until it Comes
Emotion: Dream (04)
Rating: None?
Author’s Notes: R:1. Perhaps a week before the events of The Damndest Ideas.

He didn’t know where they were, and that didn’t matter really. Things were good, they were relaxing, and at least he could touch her and actually encounter resistance. That struck as something that was odd, but he was a bit too happy to care. That just meant that he would have to use as much of the time that he could to talk to her. Hold her. That was all that mattered while he could even do it, and she didn’t seem to mind, clutching him to her with far more urgency. Wait a second…was something wrong? She was…crying. Why would she be crying right now?

Light pierced down, revealing the barren wasteland that they were laying in. A few minutes ago he could have told someone that they were next to a lake, but not now. A few trees, branches long since twisted from death, dotted the surroundings. The rest was sand, hot enough to burn except where they were. A line of mountains stood along the horizon, circling them to keep them trapped where they were. The light reflected off of them in such a way that it blinded him whenever he tried to look at them, kept him from seeing if there was a way out…not that he wanted to find one at the moment. It was just him and Gwyneth, and he didn’t, wouldn’t want to move while it remained that way. But she was crying, and wouldn’t stop. He didn’t know what the matter was, couldn’t figure it out and she wouldn’t tell him. Her beautiful face had tears streaming down it as she pressed herself closer to him, as if trying to memorize the feel of him.

He had just turned to get a better look at her when a shadow fell over him…and in that moment he felt terrible pain. Agony ripped through his body, his soul as he collapsed next to her. Now she understood why she was sad, he was dying. And this mysterious shadow offered the only way out of the terrible pain. What did he have to do? If only he knew how to get the stranger to grant him what he wanted, save him from the pain that threatened to crush him. It was slowly killing him, and the stranger smiled. He couldn’t actually see the teeth, it was more of a feeling that came from it. There was a strange blackness that flowed over the man, absorbing the light…but not destroying it. Almost as if the light and the dark were both nourishment, and he could be comfortable with both, even as the shadow was his home.

“Choose…will you come with me and leave her behind to save your life? Or will you die?”

Colin shuddered, the pain was too much. In another minute he would be dead…but he had to leave Gwyneth behind to live? He turned to ask her if it was alright, but she was already pushing him forward, into the arms of the stranger. Who proceeded to laugh and lightly tap the boy on the head. The pain vanished…but then he walked right past him, moving between him and Gwyneth. There was a single cry of pain from her…and then they were both gone, leaving the boy alone in the wasteland.

Colin sat bolt upright in bed, sweat dripping from every pore and lending a wild, haunted look to his eyes. That was a dream. It was all a dream, and that couldn’t have happened. Gwyneth was standing against the wall, concern furrowing her brows as she got up and started to walk towards him. Right now though, he didn’t see her, could only hear the cry of pain and agony…and of loss. That was a dream, right? He wouldn’t have to make that choice, and it would never happen that way. If that choice ever came, he would die so that she would live. But it wouldn’t happen…

Right?

Name: Always There
Emotion: Hug (88)
Rating: Cute scene at the end? Other than that…probably not much, typical me writing.
Author’s Notes: R:2, right after Colin starts to play again. The illness that is referred to is something that I haven’t had happen yet, but plays an important part.

He smiled softly as the doctor said goodbye, moving quietly out of the hospital with ease and an air that caused people to back away from him. He already knew where the exit was, he always knew where the exits were. Just in case. That was something as ingrained in him as his sorrow or the disease that had ravaged him all of a week ago. Not that it was really a disease, and the doctor’s didn’t have a clue what had caused it. He didn’t expect them to figure it out, nobody but him and the two others that knew. One of those was dead. The rest…they didn’t know, and they didn’t need to either. He knew what was happening to his body, his soul, and the rest could take comfort in knowing that it would never happen to them. Not if they were lucky at all.

The hospital doors opened quietly as he slipped out, almost pure white skin shinning in the sun before he started to walk to his house. He could use the exercise, and it wasn’t all that far away. Besides, where he was going…he wouldn’t be able to work or do any strenuous activity for a few days, so he had to get it in now so that his muscle wouldn’t lose its tone. He smirked slightly, picking up the pace on legs that protested momentarily, then started to move more quickly. Muscle was all he had, that and bone. People were hard pressed to find an ounce of fat on his body, something that freaked most people out. He just sighed and moved on, accepting that they wouldn’t understand. Then he grinned. The person who would understand didn’t care for it, and attempted to get him to eat more anyways. Tried to get the almost drawn look out of his face, tried as hard as she could to keep him healthy in a body that refused to stay that way.

People continued to move away from him as he walked. There was an aura around him that reeked of illness, of wrongness…of something that was terribly off. That was the real thing that drove people away from him, that he almost looked…alien standing there. His body looked like it didn’t fit on him, like he didn’t belong there.

Truthfully…he didn’t.

He ignored the whispers around him as he passed, trying to forget the agony of a week ago and the way that he had nearly completely lost control. It had been so bad that he had nearly screamed, and once he had started he knew that it wouldn’t stop. Control over his body was nearly severed each time, and it was getting closer and closer. That was the real reason that he had agreed to come to her the next time it was going to happen, and stay there for a while. His, currently, brown eyes smiled as he thought about that, and about the past. She had been there for the first one, and she had been there for every single one of the attacks that he had had while inside The World.

Now she was going to be there for him again when he needed it, ensuring that he lived and took care of himself, even though he could take care of himself. Not that he didn’t appreciate what she did for him, and to him. He knew that things would have been much worse off without what she did and what she offered, what she gave freely. Like this…and all the things that she had told him and helped him with in the past. Not just his physical body had suffered over the years, neglect, hate and self-disgust had damaged his spirit, destroying himself from the inside out as he despised what he had become, what he had done. His customary sad smile slipped in place as he entered the house, going straight to what he needed. The bag that he needed had already been packed the day before, in anticipation of this. All he needed was to change his clothing from what he had worn to the hospital to his robe. It was a somewhat special occasion, and he hadn’t worn it in a while. When he was out of his clothing he slipped into the shower, trying to wash the psychic scent, the aura, off of his body.

He was far to white, far to thin, and weak right now. He was trembling as he turned the water on, blasting him with the heat and the steam that erupted from the floor and his skin. Colin wanted that heat to purge his body, his soul, of all that was dirty and infested. He knew that it couldn’t do that, but he never stopped wishing that his element had the power to cleanse him. The secondary hope was that the water would wash away the grime for the past few days, take the sphere of influence that told anyone and everyone just how sick he was. Just how wrong everything was. When his pale body finally was clothed in the robe, he stood and looked in the mirror at himself for just one second. Taking in that ocean blue cloth, a single golden-white sash clipping itself in the front with a single moonstone. This was for remembrance.

When he arrived at the shrine he stopped for a moment, drawn by the regular colors all around him. He loved Japan for that reason, not all of the natural colors of the world were swallowed by the cities. You could take refuge in nature, find a sea and purge yourself if you were drawn to that water. This was wood…and it still managed to waft through him, keeping him safe and together. He hadn’t been able to see her in this world for over a week, and that troubled him a bit. He didn’t know what his reaction was going to be this time, although he could have easily guessed hers if he really wanted to. He didn’t though…and his form walked around to the front of the shrine. She was talking to several Americans who were taking a tour, and a few older Japanese who visiting. He walked forward a bit, blue robe shifting soundlessly over his body, and leaned against the red pillar.

One or two people glanced at him and shifted away, but she had seen him several seconds before they ever noticed. His aura, maybe his presence, had already alerted her to the fact that he was here without even having to look up. The moment she did though, her eyes…filled with something. The smile that lit his face was soft…just soft enough to let the woman know that he were there, and that he was fine. He wasn’t though, and that showed in his brown eyes. In another moment, while everyone else was reacting to the presence that came off of him, she apologized to them in Japanese, saying something about personal business. Then she began to rush over to him, Miko outfit rustling for just one moment before she was there.

His bag hit the ground with a solid thump as his arms reached out, encircling her as she drew closer to him, wary. As if he could break with the slightest touch. Maybe he could, maybe he was, as tears poured from his eyes. He didn’t know when he had started to cry, but he lowered his head down to hers, resting it for just one moment before he straightened it up. Sobs caused his form to convulse slightly as he held her, knowing that this was for him, understanding that he needed this somehow. Something changed the moment that he started to cry, the way that she held him changed its context. Her head pressed into his shoulder for a moment, and he felt one hand pat his back. No one spoke, they all just stared at the two, one tall American and a short Japanese girl, one of them so sick that you could feel it…crying. She was there for him, again. She always knew what to do when she could do something, always managed to make it better, to heal him in some way. Now she was there, when he needed physical contact, holding him as shudders wracked his frame…

There were times when the bond that they shared could not be measured in human terms.

Name: Continue the Dance
Emotion: Nightmare (05)
Rating: None
Author’s Notes: Set just after my last one…and by just after, I mean, that night.

Colin woke up violently, jerking upright as his breathing became fast and jagged. Haunted eyes glanced in every direction for a few seconds, gradually relaxing as he realized that he wasn’t still in the nightmare. It was over, he was out of it…and it had never really happened. He shuddered, trying to forget the images and the voices that washed over him, condemning him and telling him exactly what they had thought of him. All the people that he had killed, or thought that he had killed…he still wasn’t sure of the exact number, but the nightmare didn’t care. Every last doctor was there, all the people that he had helped to destroy…and then two others. One bright, cheerful man who always identified himself as “The guy who he first killed” and Gwyneth. They were always so very happy, cheerfully joking and playing games, drinking whatever came to hand. He always stood there, the host to this “party”, listening quietly as they ripped into him again and again. His house became a battleground, a bloodletting for the wounds on his soul.

He twitched again, quietly getting up from his bed and moving to the door. His feet didn’t make a sound as he moved, his clothing didn’t rustle as he opened the door. In moments the man was in the hallway, swiftly moving outside. He needed the river, he knew where it was already, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he needed to be there. The nightmare had been recurring for four years now, never giving him time to heal. Not that he could find a way to protect himself from the words that were far more hurtful when uttered with the cheery voice than with a hateful tone. Colin hadn’t found a way to shield himself, keeping his core out of their reach.

His house was filled with laughing men and a few women, each of them joking and sharing stories with each other. A few of them were bragging of their children, but they always ended it by saying that they could never see their kids…only to have the rest of them nod sagely and continue on. Colin moved as a ghost through the crowd, bringing refreshments like a good host to the people who needed it. They always looked him in the eyes, smiled, and thanked him for being so kind to them after they had died. There was no repetition, they always managed to phrase it in a different way that left him with tears in his eyes. The constant biting comments as he watched the people that he killed be happy, mocking him with every word, every movement.

He twitched, moving a few inches in all directions as he kept on walking to the river, watching the water smoothly flow over the rocks. Soft sounds filled his ears as the water rushed past him, the man standing at the bank of the river. Tears brushed his eyes as he remembered her words, the soft and all too cruel way that she had cut him down. The rest he might have been able to handle had she not been there, softly taking his hands and telling him that while it was nice that he had always been there, and she had such a great time loving him…that his killing her had been the last straw. She couldn’t love him anymore, not after what he had done. It was said so softly, with such a sad smile, that he felt his heart torn to shreds and left on the ground as she left him. Everyone started to clap and cheer her on…

He wrenched himself out of it, trembling. He knew that wasn’t possibly true, that she couldn’t ever say something like that. The scene could never happen, and the doctors that he had killed wouldn’t have ever been that happy. But…the way that she said it, so happily telling him that she wasn’t ever going to love him again, that was what ripped his heart out. One tear traced its way down his cheek as he began to sing softly, gently into the wind that caressed his face, calming him down.

“If you love me, then let go of me, I wont be held down by who I used to be.”

The last word had just died when he felt her presence behind him, and he turned to look at her with a single tear in his eye. She looked at him softly, obviously asking why he was out here…and knowing the answer already. He just nodded and smiled at her, a sad smile, one that told her that it was the exact same dream again, one that he had had for the past four years, one that she had listened to him describe. His gray eyes stared at her for another second before he turned to look at the inverted river, one that was almost a whitish yellow. Almost. The darkness made it a moving white, the shimmering moon overhead a black circle against a white blanket. Points of black against the white background. She moved quietly to him as he stood, watching the river…letting the sound of the water gradually calm his fears.

He knew this dance well enough, and he would continue to dance to it for as long as he needed to.

Title: What it takes to live
Emotion: Sacrifice (92)
Rating: Depends if you can read someone dying or not.
Author’s Notes: What really happened when Gwyneth died.

Pain lanced through him again and again, threatening to plunge him back into the abyss of his mind or shatter him into a thousand pieces. The feeling of sanity wavered and began to drift away on the wind, only for him to bring it back to him forcibly as he fought the feeling coursing through his body. Fire burned in his veins as he fought to keep his mind intact, his body under his own command. That this had been occurring for the better part of two weeks only gave him a small advantage. The massive disadvantage came from the pain and almost corrupting feeling that grew in power every time that it happened. Indeed, he could barely see enough to take off the FMD that had connected him to The World, and his movements were hampered by the lack of focus on the task that he could give. The much vaster part of his attention was keeping something from breaking inside of him, to keep what remained of his conscious awake and collected.

He stood up, although you couldn’t tell by looking at him that was what he had intended to do. It was almost a flop that happened to end in an upright position, his entire being screaming that he was in pain as he stumbled over to his bed to lie down. Maybe he could surrender to the pain for a little while and save his strength so that the next one wasn’t so bad. Although, truthfully, that wasn’t what he had in mind. He just wanted to lie down somewhere to rest and relax and try and forget the screaming pain that had ripped through his body. He was so intent on his goal that he didn’t notice the psychic presence that lurked just under his own, or the figure that appeared behind him. Her own sad eyes begged him to forgive her as her fist went down on his head at the same time that her psychic and mental form clashed with his control. The surprised boy didn’t stand a chance against the female and his mind, his own consciousness, went down in an instant; as much from the attack as the pain that was still wreaking havoc on his body.

Her form shimmered for a moment and vanished, taking her place at the helm of Colin’s physical frame. She sighed on the inside, marveling at how she could be so complacent about her own death. Gwyneth knew what she had to do; but that stupid, stubborn, snarly, and wonderful male that she had fallen in love with wouldn’t even consider it if she brought it up. As a matter of fact, she mused to herself as she prepared herself, he would probably try and make her promise never to do it. She wouldn’t ever do that, especially because what she was doing was the only way for him to live.

She had spent a large amount of the time that he was sleeping thinking. Because of what she was, there was no need for her to sleep in the first place. All of the time that he was passed out, she was thinking, trying to wrestle with what she knew was coming. She had felt it building up long before he could detect any of the effects, but even though she knew it was coming she couldn’t do anything; because she was the cause of it in the first place! There wasn’t a possible way for his mind to handle the pressure that her mere existence caused for him, and any attempt that she made to alleviate the psychic destruction that was causing them both to slowly die.

In the realm of the mind, she looked at the boy that lay unconscious. He was so peaceful when he couldn’t move, as he lay unaware of the world around him. She smiled gently, eyes full of the knowledge of what she was about to do and what impact it would do to the poor teen in front of her. She carefully moved his body, hers for now, to the bed and lay down on top of it before focusing inward on herself.

She had experimented a bit with his mind and his brain while he was asleep, and now she traveled through places that she had been before, exploring the place that she called her home. Truly a being of the psychic energy and that which people considered their consciousness, which leant her a bit of knowledge as to what the mind could really do when you could manipulate it correctly. Technically, it was only because of the position that she held within his mind that she could actually do what she wanted to. If she had been the original owner of the body that she was now possessor of, there would be no conceivable way to do this. For that matter, she couldn’t destroy him, even if she wanted to. What she could do was extend his life by killing herself.

She sank into her own being, dragging her focus with her, and found the core, the part of the brain where she resided. It was a little over twelve percent, and it was all about to find itself without a master. Steeling herself for what she knew was about to happen, she set up a few things to run in her absence to keep him alive for as long as possible, as well as a precautionary memory with information, should he need it. Even though she knew his thoughts now, there was no reason to believe that he wouldn’t take the memories that she had just altered the wrong way, and flip out in nine different ways. He just needed…say, a week or two, and his mind would be safe from the slightly self-aware memory that she had given him, should he ever need it.

Then it was time to die.

Pain flared through her being, her soul as she began to self-destruct. Parts of herself died in agony, the rest going quietly as their collective mind began to collapse. The tendrils of control that she had latched into his brainspace died silently, mere whispers in the night as pieces of her were scattered and destroyed. She could feel parts of herself dying, personality changing drastically, memories being obliterated in a fraction of a second. She kept her new mission, the will to kill herself for a better cause, safe and permeating throughout her being, until the very end. Until, finally, there was a tiny core in front of her, the last bastion of who and what she was. There was still space to turn back. She could recover even from that and rebuilt what she had lost if she were willing to do it.

But what would that do? He would die in another day, and with his death, she and the body they resided in would die as well. There was no point for her to remain, and every reason to leave this life behind. With as much warmth, love, sympathy, and regret as she could summon up in her critically wounded self; sent herself, and her emotions, forward into that small point. It was with a sad smile that she destroyed it, and, in her last second, there was nothing but a overwhelming sense of completion...and love.

Title: Can’t Hold Me Back
Emotion: Goodbye (96)
Rating: Swearing.
Author Notes: This is set assuming that Takua goes into a coma from Juk. Read the Juk field of the EC if you want to see where Ondine came in.

“You’re doing what?!”

Colin stared levelly at his parents, vaguely grey eyes gazing resolutely at the two adults in front of him. Short brown hair wavered in the breeze as he stood on the front porch in front of them, refusing to budge an inch even as his mother screamed at him. She couldn’t see the ghosts that flitted behind his eyes, but his father could just barely see them. Caught it in the tilt of his boy’s chin as he set down his path in life. Saw the horror and tragedy that had happened. He sighed deeply, a rumble somewhere in his chest as he tried to comprehend what had happened. How long had it been since their boy had fallen into a coma? It had only been a week after they had kicked him out when they received a hysterical call from Gillian, saying that their son had fallen over in his room and wasn’t responding, that he was in the hospital. And now here he was, just out of it…saying something that had blown them away and sent his wife into a screaming rage. Instead of falling on anger, he spoke coolly, testing the resolve of his son and just why he was doing this.

“Colin, why are you doing this?”

The boy who had heard himself called Takua more often during the past year than his real name took a moment to react, almost having forgotten that name of a time before he had become a soldier in a war beyond his parent’s comprehension. The soft smile that he graced them only continued to infuriate his mother, but he responded to the question because his father had asked it politely.

“I no longer belong here. My place is in another city, another country. I won’t ask you to believe what happened to me, you wouldn’t believe it. But, I made friends in another place, and I need to leave this place behind. There’s nothing here for me.”

The shriek that was emitted from his mother was expected but still caused him to wince, reminding him of another time when she would have been able to intimidate him. Rage and displeasure at being unable to control her son suffused her voice as she screamed at him in a blind fury.

“YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY IF YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING TO JAPAN!”

His next grin was a mixture of that insanity that she claimed that he had, something that shut her up more swiftly than he could have ever dreamed of doing. A soft purr suffused his voice, the quality more like a hunting cat than human. Toying with his prey before the kill. After all, he had been around Kira enough to know how to make it effective with both body language and speech. In that moment he had control over the situation. He didn’t need to talk loudly, the silence all around him more deeply understated his words.

“Why…mother. How kind of you to bring that up. You see, it just so happens that last year, I started to have something happen to me. You see, I am insane. So, I’m fucking crazy as you put it.”

She opened her mouth for just a moment, but then he spoke once again. Three words of astounding purport that left her mouth hanging open, anger vanishing in a heartbeat. His father paled instantly, grabbing his wife and pushing her inside of the house as he smiled at them, a sad smile that didn’t fade as he turned away from them. He walked to the car that he owned, everything that he wanted to take to Japan inside of it. Just a single suitcase and one backpack. The rest…came with him and his mind. His memories.

His illness.

“Are you okay?”

He ignored Ondine for a moment, taking another look at the neighborhood he had grown up in. The trees that swayed as the wind picked up, the scent that he had come to identify with the city mixed in just slightly with the feeling of the forest. Of Juk. Everything that he had known was here, people around him and the town. He had gone to school here, something that had been interrupted when he had fallen into The World. He had killed a man here, sparking the madness that his life had devolved into afterwards. Gwyneth…Ondine. Ganz. Juka. The Freedom Fighters and the Elites. Computer games had been a large part of his past, but he was leaving this, the physical world that he knew, behind. Ian. Alex. Gillian. All of the people that he knew in High School.

He slipped into his car, Ondine seemed to just phase through it as if it didn’t exist. More accurately, she didn’t. He looked down at his car, only vaguely aware that he was driving it to be sold. After that he would catch a ride in the bus to the airport, where he had a one way ticket to Tokyo. He started it slowly, as if lost in a mist of some kind as a single tear began to trickle its way down his face. He could barely comprehend what he was doing, yet he knew it needed to be done. There was no place here anymore for him, it belonged with the friends that he had made. His hand moved as though through molasses, setting on the steering wheel as he looked back at the house. How many memories had he made there? But it was time. He spoke slowly, deliberately, and with effort. It was simple…but it contained everything that it needed to have. A sense of completion, of settling something that needed to be laid to rest, passed over him as he spoke in Santa Rosa for the last time in years. An apology to all of his friends, an explanation, and a call for forgiveness all expressed within one word.

“Goodbye.”

And, for once…the voices were silent.

Name: Second Chance
Emotion: Stand Tall (80)
Rating: None
Author's Notes: After R:2 begins.

The man took several deep breaths, trying to control his anxiety as he stood outside of the door of the classroom. His blood hammered like it hadn’t in…well, quite some time anyways. This was it. He’d come so far, done all of these sometimes inane and often crazy things, to end up at the door of this classroom. Finally, he closed his eyes, counted to ten, and swallowed. It was as if he had become a statue, how still he became then. When his eyes opened, the panic and apprehension had dissolved to the back and had vanished from the hazel eyes. They rested squarely on the large wooden doors in front of him that would lead him to where he needed to go.

It had been years to build up to this point. He was sorry that one of his dearest friends was no longer alive to see it, but he comforted himself with the thought that, if she was alive, she would be happy to see him finally have succeeded. Maybe, somewhere, she was watching anyways. Two others would certainly hear about this if they weren’t somewhere in the back of the lecture hall, ready to surprise him.

He opened the door and strode out across the floor of the classroom, eyes flickering over the students- and damn Ondine in the corner up there- that had filled up the seats. He stopped when he finally got to the podium in the center. The lecture hall had been…entirely filled up. There might have been rumors, and certainly the staff had been amendable to his suggestions, which is why he had been allowed to do what he was about to do. It would be, he thought to himself with a bit of an amused grin, an interesting class for all of them in ways that they would never have expected.

His vision, sharp as it had been for the past year and still far sharper than it had been before certain incidents with The World, raked over the students. The talking stopped almost instantly, and he smiled to the audience before him. He didn’t use a microphone, much to their surprise, he only used his voice.

“Welcome to Abnormal Psychology, with an emphasis on Schizophrenia. My name is Colin Lexa, and I will be your Sensei.”

The grin that he wore was much more pronounced now as he spoke fluent Japanese, the product of so many years both here in Japan and learning it from someone who was so very dear to him. Someone who still called him Takua, who refused to call him by his given name…not that he would have had it any other way. Instead of it being a badge of closeness for her to talk to him by his real name, the one that she had known as his name was the better one. It symbolized where they had met and what they had gone through. It was why the man had instantly seen where all of the exits were, who was most likely to cause disruption, who may cause trouble. There was more than one reason why the Bo Staff sized pole over in the corner was there after all.

“If I seem somewhat informal, I’ll have to apologize, I was never very good at formality.”

He won a bit of laughter from the students with that, although some of them were looking confused as to why he was opening this way. Let them wonder, he thought with a grin, he was about to blow all of their minds and have fun doing it too.

“I’m sure that some of you have heard rumors about this class, which is why the hall is packed. Before I tell you why I’m teaching this class, at the prestigious University of Tokyo, I must ask you not to tell anyone who is not taking this class what I am about to say.”

Secrets, he thought with a small, private smile, were always a good way to start things off. He would enjoy this. His sharp hearing didn’t fail to detect the complete silence that had filled the hall, not even the tapping on keyboards could be heard as he leaned forward. This was it, he realized, there was going to be no turning back after this. Reminding himself that it was right here, that this was everything that he had wanted to do for the past seven years, he spoke quietly, but it carried all the way through the lecture hall to the two people in the back seats.

“I’m Colin Lexa, and I’ve been a Paranoid Schizophrenic for nine years.”

Name: Testing Waters
Emotion: Kiss (87)
Rating: None
Author's Notes: 4-6 months after Mainplot ends.


The man was relaxing on the couch when he heard the doorbell ring. Expecting it, he got up and started walking towards the door, mentally reviewing what he had in mind. If he was right, he could get her totally by surprise and try and gauge his chances by doing this. If he was wrong...well, it'd be a boot to the head in rather short order. That was fine, better a boot to the head than some other answers, and he could always explain it to the other two women currently in the house. Yelling that he'd get it in their native language, he walked quickly and directly.

After all, he didn't need to grab anything to do this.

Life had been good recently. The past couple of months since he had moved to Japan had been the happiest in recent memory, although the years of being in The World couldn't really count due to extenuating circumstances. What could have been enjoyable had been tainted by untreatable (at the time) schizophrenia, something that he was now taking medication for. As a result, only a single facet of that remained, and that would be something he was a little happy for. Just a little. Being able to see and hear Ondine at all times had its upsides and downsides, some of which he had only just begun to find out. Most of them he already knew, but there were some times where he didn't enjoy her ability to take over his body without any notice.

And it had been in the free time that he suddenly had that wasn't devoted to keeping himself sane that he had started to notice something. Something that he needed more than he thought was possible. He hadn't known where to find it for a while, find that needed closeness with someone, but now...now he thought it was there. He wanted someone to share the good times with, to help through the bad...to find someone who could accept who he was and who he had been. Who he could become again, and what he could pass on to any children that they had.

He allowed the smile to spread as he opened the door, checking the hallway for a brief moment. Standing on the step was the woman that he had thought would be there, had hoped would be there. He beckoned the green-eyed girl through the door, speaking as he did so. “Heyo. How was your day?” He hoped that the nervousness was mostly covered up as she stepped through and started to talk a bit. Small talk, that was it, all it could be.

Standing behind her now, he shut the door, moving closer to her black hair as he satisfied himself that the other two weren't able to see what he was about to do. He'd only known her for about three months now, not a long time at all, and here was was risking quite a bit. Well...maybe not as much as he might think. It was fairly obvious that she was attracted towards him on at least one level or another. She finished walking about her day and he smiled even more broadly. “Good. Oh, one moment.” She turned, and he took a deep breath.

A moment later, his lips met her's.

There was only the heat, the feel of her mouth beneath his. He felt the shock, the suddenly glazed eyes as she stared at him slackjawed as he withdrew slightly, a smile playing around his lips. Well, he wasn't dead or slapped yet, so things looked to be up. He was still watching intently when she abruptly blushed and dashed off down the hallway, ducking into the main room to meet her friends. Now it was Takua's turn to be embarrassed, although it didn't show. Slowly, he look at his right hand and clenched it before striding forward. Soon, very soon.