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to the pleroma (text)
[ it’s not an intentional attempt at anonymity. dextera just has no experience with this kind of broad communication, and to him, there’s little point in introducing himself anyway. those who have met him may be able to recognize the emotional “signature” attached to the words newly displayed in their minds, and may be able even to attach the soft sound of his breath or the perpetually-uncertain expression he wears to the message he knows is about to be contentious.
but, it’s been bothering him since the events in venera. perhaps the seed was planted even before that, from his very first experience with the kenoma and having the pleroma overtake it to save him in the end. ]
Are we wrong?
[ it’s… actually not what he wanted to open with, but the panic of broadcasting a message so publicly has him blurting things out even through what should be the most temperate of mediums. ]
The Regent said it was the Pleroma that caused the disease in Venera. That force wanted us to live forever in delusion. I don’t want to destroy the world. I don’t want to make a new one either. I was happy there. I would have been happy there.
The distilled Kenoma tried to manipulate our thoughts. Didn’t you all feel that power when we escaped? The Hope that allowed us to fight? Are we still being manipulated?
but, it’s been bothering him since the events in venera. perhaps the seed was planted even before that, from his very first experience with the kenoma and having the pleroma overtake it to save him in the end. ]
Are we wrong?
[ it’s… actually not what he wanted to open with, but the panic of broadcasting a message so publicly has him blurting things out even through what should be the most temperate of mediums. ]
The Regent said it was the Pleroma that caused the disease in Venera. That force wanted us to live forever in delusion. I don’t want to destroy the world. I don’t want to make a new one either. I was happy there. I would have been happy there.
The distilled Kenoma tried to manipulate our thoughts. Didn’t you all feel that power when we escaped? The Hope that allowed us to fight? Are we still being manipulated?
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Actually, Dokja will do that himself once the items are handed over and he just barges on inside uninvited. Once he's situated in the middle of the room, he stands there with his hands on his hips as he looks around.
Damn. You live like this? ]
You can eat that banana after a couple of days.
[ Since it's. Green. ]
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there’s still salad, after all. ]
…
[ salad, which he will eat one leaf at a time with his hands. ]
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When he turns back around, he catches Dextera eating the salad and it's. It really makes him pause and forget what he'd just been about to say. ]
... Why are you eating it like that?
[ THAT'S WEIRD ]
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[ dextera steps out of the way of the light, but his abashed expression at dokja’s question is still illuminated by the ambience. ]
…
[ unsure of how else to eat it, he at least switches to fishing out a slice of tomato like that makes things better. ]
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... If it does exist, it probably isn't very sanitary anyway. ]
Forget it. Carry on eating the way you were.
[ He'll just stop watching and get to picking up some of the stuff on the floor like he's Dextera's mother. Please don't let there be like. Underwear or anything. ]
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…
[ he wipes tomato juice on his shirt, watching dokja clean up with an increasing sense of uncertainty. ]
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Dokja wordlessly tidies things as best as he can. He's not an especially clean person, but he's familiar with trying to manage his own messes, so. It's somewhat of an improvement now that the floor is mostly cleared of anything that could be tripped on.
He glances back at Dextera in time to see where that tomato juice goes... ]
Not doing so well, huh? I know what that's like.
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but not like this. someone like dokja shouldn’t be able to empathize, because dextera doesn’t want him to hurt like this. ]
…
[ dextera moves to sit on his bed again, and motions for dokja to sit with him.
you wouldn’t deny a man his company on his nasty sheets, would you, dokja?]no subject
But no, he will oblige because he doesn't care all that much. He takes a seat next to Dextera, leaving plenty of room between them for Jesus, and fixes a smile into place. Whatever had assailed him weeks before seems to be gone now at least?
... More like Dokja is trying really hard to make it appear like everything's back to normal for him. ]
Has anyone said anything to get you to rethink your thoughts? Get you to calm down a bit?
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[ in the time it took for dokja to get here, dextera has calmed down a bit. he still has questions and worries, but that’s natural for their position. the important thing is that he doesn’t lose himself to it.
he pulls his legs up onto the bed, and to dokja’s question, he offers a quick, tight nod. feeling some sense of preservation, he doesn’t open himself to communion just yet, so he’ll have to ‘talk’ the old fashioned way.
drawing a breath, dextera sighs it out and places the salad aside, in order to grab a little notebook he keeps on his bedside. it’s well-used, and there are little notes and designs throughout the pages he flips through to find a new, empty one to write on. ]
Even if we are wrong, that doesn’t mean the Regent is right.
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He leans over to get a look at what's written down, his expression growing thoughtful and forced smile dropping off at what he reads. ]
Yeah, you can't exactly trust someone who deals with those kinds of extremes.
[ Destroying worlds... Dokja grows a bit anxious at the thought of it. He'd already gone down that path and what had met him at the end... Well, he's paying for it now, isn't he? Anyway, his concern remains with Dextera. ]
What brought this on? Did something happen?
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What happened in Venera reminded me of home.
[ they haven’t spoken much on the worlds they respectively come from, but it’s easy to tell this isn’t a fond recollection. ]
When I heard it was the Pleroma, I got scared.
I felt like it was my fault.
Like it was before.
I know it’s not true. But
[ his hand trembles, and he marks out that last “but” and allows dokja to look at the iteration of the message. ]
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He reads what Dextera writes, then reads it again. "Like it was before"? His gaze grows sharp at that line, the anxiety from before steadily growing at just how much Dokja can relate.
Swallowing thickly, he tries to maintain some control. ]
I get it, [ he says, an uncertain smile in place. ] It just brought you back, didn't it? And the same feelings from then with it.
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…
[ he nods. ]
It’s not possible to make amends when you hurt that many people.
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It's only after a moment that Dokja realizes his hands are trembling, and he quickly brings them together to fold one on top of the other, squeezing with all his might to try and stifle the shaking.
Keep it together. ]
You... hurt people? Back home?
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[ dextera is the type to withdraw his own senses and focus only on himself when he’s upset, but dokja—despite his best efforts—is right there next to him and obviously distressed.
he hesitates before writing the next part, his gaze focused on dokja’s trembling hands. what he assumes is that dokja is frightened of him, of the knowledge that dextera has harmed innocent people. he takes a guilty breath and nods, watching dokja for his reaction.
dextera wouldn’t blame dokja for leaving now, but he hopes he won’t. ]
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Something anchors him in place. Maybe it's because this is Dextera who he's known since waking up in this new world, maybe it's because Dokja's never talked about this with anyone else, maybe it's because this is someone who might understand... Or maybe it's all of these reasons.
He's tired of running. ]
... Me too. [ He swallows thickly, his mouth suddenly dry. ] I hurt people, too.
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[ dextera didn’t expect that. of course he’s never thought dokja capable of inflicting pain on another human being, not in any lasting way. to dextera, dokja is as kind and normal as they come, even if he’s proven himself occasionally difficult as a personality.
he shakes his head, as if he can deny that reality, and hurriedly returns to the notebook. ]
What do you mean
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His gaze settles uneasily on the written question, unable to meet Dextera's eyes. ]
... It means that I understand what you're going through. Partly, at the very least.
[ He doesn't think he has it in him to elaborate about what he's done, all the people he's hurt, all the lives that had been lost. Entire worlds. Just because of him. ]
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That’s OK
[ dextera scratches the words on the paper with urgency, punctuation dropped in his haste. ]
You don’t have to tell me
But I don’t have any right to judge
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Yeah, [ his reply comes out so quietly it's almost hard to hear. ] It's the same for me. I can't tell you that everything's going to be fine. Or that you deserve to be forgiven.
[ Because those are words that Dokja would never believe if they were spoken to him. ]
But... [ he hesitates, gaze darting to the floor. ] You're not alone, is what I'm trying to say.
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…
[ he still listens to dokja’s words, his pen held to the paper, but he doesn’t come up with anything to say that couldn’t be better answered with a simple nod. he’s working on what emotions to feel, and then what emotions from that are proper to express. he’s grateful and frustrated and afraid, and none of those alone seem quite right. ]
We didn’t do it this time.
[ whatever dokja went through, dextera feels the need to assure him that it isn’t his fault, what happened in venera, which means that it can’t be dextera’s fault either. they’re in this together. ]
But we can help
can’t we
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... When in truth, he doesn't know if he's capable of feeling hope.
For Dextera's sake, he will. He'll smother away his doubts and play the part that needs to be played. ]
Yeah, [ he responds softly. ] We can help. And we will.
[ He hopes this is enough. There hadn't been much of a plan when he'd come to see Dextera, but if he can offer something, anything at all, including empty words and promises, he'll at least have done something. ]
We'll get through it.
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[ dokja doesn’t believe what he’s saying, but he’s trying to help. that’s good enough. he doesn’t have to believe it if his heart is in the right place—dextera understands that impulse, after all, lying to make sure someone dies in bliss rather than with the painful reality around them.
dextera clings to it, less optimism and more desperation, but it all looks the same when he’s trying to convince himself anyway.
he exhales through his nose and closes the book. there’s nothing he can say that’s going to make this conversation feel better, and so he sets it aside, instead taking one of the green bananas that dokja has brought him. ]
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As much as Dokja appreciates the accepting silence that comes after such a melancholy conversation, he grows a bit apprehensive when the unripe banana makes its appearance. His expression grows puzzled as he first stares at the banana, then at Dextera.
Surely not...? ]
You're not going to eat that, are you?
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