"Mm." Idia nods, downing the rest of his lemonade. He doesn't want to think about what he did and almost did in the halls of STYX. Once he graduates, his life will be nothing but the duty of the Shrouds, a gloomy but necessary job.
He switches to a different game, a first-person dungeon crawler better suited for his mood. The shrieks of monsters quickly kill the desire to play, though, and he closes it out. The room goes quiet except for the hum of machines and their breathing.
Cater watches in silence as Idia's attention goes back to his game, games, and then nothing at all. Maybe this is better than pretending that things will get better, but that doesn't make it any less of a bummer.
"There I go, killing the mood again," he finally says with a laugh, trying to find some kind of levity, not wanting to just excuse himself. Not wanting the conversation to get any darker. "Hey, got anything two player?"
"Not your fault," Idia mumbles. He reaches up to poke one of his temples with an orange fingertip. "Malware. Can't get rid of it, baked into the firmware. Can't rip out the parts and start over, either." His hand drops to his lap where the other rests, the fingers of both hands fidgeting.
Two player games, huh? He has a few for the times Ortho wants to join in. A moment's thought and he passes a controller to Cater, plugging it into a port in his computer. A brightly colored bubble popping puzzle game comes up on screen with a few taps on Idia's own controller. "Ever play Bubble Wobble?"
Scooting closer and accepting the controller, Cater purses his lips, stealing glances at Idia as he looks at the screen. "Mm, it looks similar to some mobile games I've seen but in case it's different: is this the kind of game where you connect different colored bubbles and they'll pop anything the same in a chain?"
There are a few different types like this that tend to be pretty popular. They're the kind that seem to have unlimited levels, so you can get sucked in easily when you're killing time. Usually they're chock full of ads, of course. This is an easy thing to talk about on autopilot as he thinks about Malware. Any sort of electronic device can get it, really. The human brain isn't any different. He isn't any different.
But it doesn't really matter, and he's not sure why he's stuck on it.
"Yeah, same thing. Opponent's popped bubbles get pushed down from the top of your screen, hit the bottom and you lose."
He starts the game. Something becomes very apparent in the first fifteen seconds of play: though he could quickly and easily decimate Cater, Idia instead is observing his opponent's skill level and playing to match him. It's not holding back out of pity but rather a genuine desire to have fun with someone else. The Ignihyde housewarden isn't smiling but his expression is calm and focused, without the tension of dark thoughts tugging at the corners of his eyes and mouth.
Cater's no gamer, but once he experiments with the controls during the beginning of the game and gets into a muscle rhythm, it becomes obvious that he's definitely played this type of game before. He's not half bad! As his attention gets more and more pulled in by the game, its difficulty increasing, Cater gets more at ease.
He's sure that there's no way he's winning, but it wouldn't be fun if they didn't have a bit of friendly ribbing, right? Laughing, Cater nudges his leg with one of his feet. "Not nearly as big of a n00b now, am I?"
Idia chuckles lowly, more of a staccato hum than anything. Still, the traces of a grin pull at the corners of his mouth, so Cater can call it a win. Good thing, since it's the only win he's getting on Idia's turf. Those spidery pale fingers flutter on the buttons and the bubbles pop with startling speed, tossing the cast-offs into Cater's screen. Idia's... not holding back anymore. In the space of a few heartbeats, Cater's half grays out and locks.
"Nope. Half-step up to the next pond, from big n00b to small newbie. Good try."
"Aaaah, geeze! No mercy! So cruel!" Even anticipating his defeat, it still throws him for a loop how fast Idia turns up the heat, insane to actually watch those fingers flying. So, maybe he ended up watching how it was done more than trying to (helplessly) defend himself. Even in his shock, though, he's beaming. Small newbie is probably the nicest thing Idia's ever called him (outside of his regular name).
"Hey, I'll take it from the flamer gamer." And then, unable to help it, blurts out, "I can just imagine all sorts of things you could do with hands like that."
The nickname earns Cater an unexpected reward: a startled but genuine cackle of laughter from Idia. "These hands are the ultimate nerd tools. Gaming, building, drafting, if I want to do something, I'm gonna do it."
Wow, this is actually nice. They're playing a game and laughing and teasing each other. Is this what friends do? He does things like this with Ortho but it's different, it's even different from the occasional gaming meet-ups he's had after the STYX incident. He can't explain how it's different, it just is.
Those things are most certainly not what Cater had in mind...but he's not going to clarify out loud! This is probably one of the first times...no, maybe the first time that this hasn't felt weird or tense. Sure, they'd kind of struck up a sort of balance with one another but this was the real deal. He wasn't sure he'd ever really feel like Idia would...seem genuinely happy to have him around.
Guess even the craziest of miracles can happen at Night Raven College. And Cater can officially put able to charm anyone on his list of accomplishments. "Okay, so I know you build, like, everything, but do you ever make your own games?"
Those golden eyes roll. "Duh. You really have to ask?"
A few taps on the keyboard and the dungeon crawler from earlier comes up. "Been working on this one for a few weeks, but I started coding when I was a little nerdling sprout. I could hax0r any system before... before I...."
His fingers twitch on the keys and his eyes go glassy for a moment, staring off into nothing. Then as quickly as it started, the moment passes, Idia shivering and relaxing with a sigh. "... sorry, malware again. Comes and goes, gotta be careful about executable triggers."
Cater stands up on his knees to get a better look at the screen, excited to hear more about the project…when Idia clams up again. What exactly happened that to him? What triggered his Overblot? He shakes his head. “Really, you don’t have to apologize. Like you said, it’s not like you can just do a system wipe or anything.”
It feels like he should say more, even though it also doesn’t feel like his place. “Just take it one day at a time. Everyone has their own pace to deal with these things.” And, is this where he should say that it’s okay to let others help him learn to shoulder the burden? That’s way too personal. “I’m happy as long as you aren’t pushing yourself too hard.”
"I tried." The words are soft, tired. "That's what the Overblot was supposed to do. Wipe it all, restore to factory default." Emptiness, nothingness.
What Cater's saying echoes the things the others told him after they saved him from himself. No one spewed hate or anger at him for what he put them through. Everyone in that room knows that Idia punishes himself worse than anyone ever could.
That last sentence catches his attention, though. He turns his face slightly toward Cater, blinking. "You're... happy? Because of me? But why?"
Suddenly, the two of them are staring at each other, faces not all that far apart, and Idia's question leaves Carter just as stumped. It's such a simple question, so honest and so...loaded. When he said he was happy, he hadn't really been thinking about the words he was using. It's not like they weren't truthful though, either.
"Well, like, we're friends now, right?" And having friends is fine, as long as there isn't much expected of him. Sure, he's already been putting in way more effort with Idia than he ever has with anyone else, but that's just because Idia's a whole different level! "I wouldn't keep coming out of my way to hang out here with you if I didn't have fun doing it. I'd be a pretty bad friend if I didn't have the most fun when you're having fun along with me."
Idia stares at him for a while. It's probably a bit uncanny with how still and silent the housewarden is, but even more so with those sharp yellow eyes boring into Cater's very soul. Finally he relaxes, shifting his gaze to his hands and the controller held in his lap.
"I'd never had friends before. I didn't want any. It hurts...." His breath catches, crackling the tail end of the word. He sounds more raw when he tries again. "It hurts when you lose someone."
There’s this moment where Cater feels as if he’s been pried open, his secrets fully exposed. It’s a relief that Idia looked away when he did, or he’d see the blank look on Cater’s face that he can’t stop from overtaking his easygoing features.
“Yeah,” he agrees without thinking. “It does.”
Ah, no, he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. Quickly, he turns away to reach for his iced coffee. It gives him just enough time to put himself back together.
“That’s why I always live in the moment! We only have so much time here at school together, and if we didn’t have shared classes we’d never have met. So it’s important to #carpediem!”
Idia tried that once, when he was a child. A single attempt to live as he wanted, to escape his family's curse. Time was stolen, not from him but his little brother. Short-sighted, unlucky, foolish: Idia was all of these, even when he tried to recreate what had been lost. Maybe it had worked out in the end, thanks to the efforts of others, but Idia had still caused everyone so much trouble simply by being selfish.
"Even if it means PvP to get what you want? Is that really okay, going after a limited quest or item when somebody else might deserve it more?"
Cater shakes his ice around in his cup, needing some kind of noise to cut through the static filling up his brain at the particularly poignant question that Idia throws into the air. How was he supposed to answer? Like what, he has a high WIS stat? And why is he mentally putting it in those terms?
"I don't think that's something anyone can answer for you," he finally decides, still looking off to the side lest his hastily re-applied mask fall off again. "What is or isn't okay, I mean. It's all about what you're willing to live with."
And can you live with yourself? Can you live with the consequences. Cater feels a shudder coming on. Can I live with myself?
"Life would be totes easy mode if we had all the answers!" He laughs. Tries to laugh. It's a little stilted. "That's why I don't bother thinking about the future. If I want something today, what happens tomorrow is something for future Cater to handle!"
But I'm selfish. Just lie. People don't want the truth from you, they want you to say what they want to hear. In the end, everyone's only thinking about themselves anyway.
Idia fiddles with his controller again. He tries not to think about his past or what's happened because of it, but everything keeps coming back to haunt him. Things are better now, Ortho is better now, but it was bad for so long and it could've gone much worse. Having friends helps, but he's still shoved down so much of his trauma.
"But it's not just future you." The gentle tapping of a fingertip on plastic. "Every button input affects the world. You open a chest in a village and you've got new loot, but what happens to the NPC it belonged to first? What did you do to their future?"
Ortho's future is back on track now. Idia was willing to give up everything to make that happen.
Everything that Idia says goes back to the past. To other people. Cater tried to ignore it, tried to keep things light, but it's not working and he can't very well just abandon Idia to these thoughts even if he feels incredibly ill-equipped to handle them himself.
So, screw it. He'll just ask. It feels like Idia needs to tell someone. And ultimately, what's one more thing to file away in his own memory banks?
"Idia, did you hurt someone?" That has to be it, right? Something is haunting him.
That's not a wince, it's a flinch that melts into a morose full-body curl. Idia draws his thighs up to his chest, feet resting on the edge of his chair, his arms hugging his legs. Before his face disappears into the protective huddle, there's an awful, haunted hollowness in his eyes. He takes a deep, very shaky breath, and the way he lets it out sounds more like a sob.
"... was a monster even before I Overblotted," he whispers.
I can't do this, Cater tells himself firmly as he watches Idia. He can't keep up his own routine while this is happening, and even aside from that, there's no way he knows what to do. It might as well have been a yes. Even without any details, Cater's sharp enough to connect the dots. And that reaction...it says it all.
Unlike Cater, Idia wears his heart on his sleeve.
It feels like they've been silent for ages, even if it's probably only been a minute. Swallowing, Cater moves himself in front of Idia's chair, sitting on the ground before him. "Hey," he finally says, reaching out to touch the back of Idia's hands before slowly curling his fingertips around his palms. "You aren't a monster. You've never been a monster, no matter what happened."
Another of those awful scraping breaths, this one even closer to a sob and likely actually is. Idia's hands are cold and clammy and trembling. His whole body is shaking, wound tight with some unspoken grief and on the brink of snapping. He drops the controller from their joined hands, it bounces on the floor and lays still.
"I... I killed my brother," he grits out, pain soaked into every syllable. "I killed Ortho, because I'm not the hero PC, he was... I was always just... a monster that ended the hero's story...."
How do you tell someone that even though you just called them your friend, you didn't mean it that way? That you don't want to know about all the shit they've been through and are going through because you don't want to be depended on? That you wanted to just hang out and play video games, maybe watch some anime or something, and this isn't what he had in mind? That they were never supposed to connect in any meaningful way?
You don't. You just don't. Cater feels himself beginning to break out in a cold sweat of panic, but he can't afford to lose his cool. It's not just the power of such an admission but...Ortho? His brother?
But Ortho is a robot.
Idia built him.
Idia built himself a brother.
Why would anyone do that?
There's only one reason, right? You put it all together and you're trying to fix a horrible, terrible mistake. You need to find a way to cope with something that's impossible to cope with. Instead of grieving, Idia did the only thing that made sense to him. Cater doesn't want to know any more. It's already way too much. But even so, his hands clench more tightly around Idia's. Gently, he asks, "How old were you?"
Every answer takes so much energy to build up, even if they tumble out of him once they're at his lips. The worst is already out in the open, so what more harm can he do? Cater will come to understand what Idia truly is and then he'll pull away in disgust. Maybe not completely, even the others who were at STYX can tolerate him sometime, but these one-on-one hangouts will be done.
Friends are so difficult to gain but so easy to lose.
"... seven, I think." His voice has gone soft and tired, thick with tears. "Tried to partition off the bad sectors, data's corrupted here and there." Shock weathered away so much of those days, except for the electric shock agony of he's gone, Ortho's gone that layered into every inch of who Idia was and is. "What I did... that's embedded in the BIOS, won't ever forget."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
He switches to a different game, a first-person dungeon crawler better suited for his mood. The shrieks of monsters quickly kill the desire to play, though, and he closes it out. The room goes quiet except for the hum of machines and their breathing.
no subject
"There I go, killing the mood again," he finally says with a laugh, trying to find some kind of levity, not wanting to just excuse himself. Not wanting the conversation to get any darker. "Hey, got anything two player?"
no subject
Two player games, huh? He has a few for the times Ortho wants to join in. A moment's thought and he passes a controller to Cater, plugging it into a port in his computer. A brightly colored bubble popping puzzle game comes up on screen with a few taps on Idia's own controller. "Ever play Bubble Wobble?"
no subject
There are a few different types like this that tend to be pretty popular. They're the kind that seem to have unlimited levels, so you can get sucked in easily when you're killing time. Usually they're chock full of ads, of course. This is an easy thing to talk about on autopilot as he thinks about Malware. Any sort of electronic device can get it, really. The human brain isn't any different. He isn't any different.
But it doesn't really matter, and he's not sure why he's stuck on it.
no subject
He starts the game. Something becomes very apparent in the first fifteen seconds of play: though he could quickly and easily decimate Cater, Idia instead is observing his opponent's skill level and playing to match him. It's not holding back out of pity but rather a genuine desire to have fun with someone else. The Ignihyde housewarden isn't smiling but his expression is calm and focused, without the tension of dark thoughts tugging at the corners of his eyes and mouth.
no subject
He's sure that there's no way he's winning, but it wouldn't be fun if they didn't have a bit of friendly ribbing, right? Laughing, Cater nudges his leg with one of his feet. "Not nearly as big of a n00b now, am I?"
no subject
"Nope. Half-step up to the next pond, from big n00b to small newbie. Good try."
no subject
"Hey, I'll take it from the flamer gamer." And then, unable to help it, blurts out, "I can just imagine all sorts of things you could do with hands like that."
no subject
Wow, this is actually nice. They're playing a game and laughing and teasing each other. Is this what friends do? He does things like this with Ortho but it's different, it's even different from the occasional gaming meet-ups he's had after the STYX incident. He can't explain how it's different, it just is.
no subject
Guess even the craziest of miracles can happen at Night Raven College. And Cater can officially put able to charm anyone on his list of accomplishments. "Okay, so I know you build, like, everything, but do you ever make your own games?"
no subject
A few taps on the keyboard and the dungeon crawler from earlier comes up. "Been working on this one for a few weeks, but I started coding when I was a little nerdling sprout. I could hax0r any system before... before I...."
His fingers twitch on the keys and his eyes go glassy for a moment, staring off into nothing. Then as quickly as it started, the moment passes, Idia shivering and relaxing with a sigh. "... sorry, malware again. Comes and goes, gotta be careful about executable triggers."
no subject
It feels like he should say more, even though it also doesn’t feel like his place. “Just take it one day at a time. Everyone has their own pace to deal with these things.” And, is this where he should say that it’s okay to let others help him learn to shoulder the burden? That’s way too personal. “I’m happy as long as you aren’t pushing yourself too hard.”
no subject
What Cater's saying echoes the things the others told him after they saved him from himself. No one spewed hate or anger at him for what he put them through. Everyone in that room knows that Idia punishes himself worse than anyone ever could.
That last sentence catches his attention, though. He turns his face slightly toward Cater, blinking. "You're... happy? Because of me? But why?"
no subject
"Well, like, we're friends now, right?" And having friends is fine, as long as there isn't much expected of him. Sure, he's already been putting in way more effort with Idia than he ever has with anyone else, but that's just because Idia's a whole different level! "I wouldn't keep coming out of my way to hang out here with you if I didn't have fun doing it. I'd be a pretty bad friend if I didn't have the most fun when you're having fun along with me."
no subject
"I'd never had friends before. I didn't want any. It hurts...." His breath catches, crackling the tail end of the word. He sounds more raw when he tries again. "It hurts when you lose someone."
no subject
“Yeah,” he agrees without thinking. “It does.”
Ah, no, he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. Quickly, he turns away to reach for his iced coffee. It gives him just enough time to put himself back together.
“That’s why I always live in the moment! We only have so much time here at school together, and if we didn’t have shared classes we’d never have met. So it’s important to #carpediem!”
There. A truth wrapped up in pretty words.
no subject
Live in the moment. Only so much time.
Idia tried that once, when he was a child. A single attempt to live as he wanted, to escape his family's curse. Time was stolen, not from him but his little brother. Short-sighted, unlucky, foolish: Idia was all of these, even when he tried to recreate what had been lost. Maybe it had worked out in the end, thanks to the efforts of others, but Idia had still caused everyone so much trouble simply by being selfish.
"Even if it means PvP to get what you want? Is that really okay, going after a limited quest or item when somebody else might deserve it more?"
no subject
"I don't think that's something anyone can answer for you," he finally decides, still looking off to the side lest his hastily re-applied mask fall off again. "What is or isn't okay, I mean. It's all about what you're willing to live with."
And can you live with yourself? Can you live with the consequences. Cater feels a shudder coming on. Can I live with myself?
"Life would be totes easy mode if we had all the answers!" He laughs. Tries to laugh. It's a little stilted. "That's why I don't bother thinking about the future. If I want something today, what happens tomorrow is something for future Cater to handle!"
But I'm selfish. Just lie. People don't want the truth from you, they want you to say what they want to hear. In the end, everyone's only thinking about themselves anyway.
no subject
"But it's not just future you." The gentle tapping of a fingertip on plastic. "Every button input affects the world. You open a chest in a village and you've got new loot, but what happens to the NPC it belonged to first? What did you do to their future?"
Ortho's future is back on track now. Idia was willing to give up everything to make that happen.
no subject
So, screw it. He'll just ask. It feels like Idia needs to tell someone. And ultimately, what's one more thing to file away in his own memory banks?
"Idia, did you hurt someone?" That has to be it, right? Something is haunting him.
no subject
"... was a monster even before I Overblotted," he whispers.
no subject
Unlike Cater, Idia wears his heart on his sleeve.
It feels like they've been silent for ages, even if it's probably only been a minute. Swallowing, Cater moves himself in front of Idia's chair, sitting on the ground before him. "Hey," he finally says, reaching out to touch the back of Idia's hands before slowly curling his fingertips around his palms. "You aren't a monster. You've never been a monster, no matter what happened."
no subject
"I... I killed my brother," he grits out, pain soaked into every syllable. "I killed Ortho, because I'm not the hero PC, he was... I was always just... a monster that ended the hero's story...."
no subject
You don't. You just don't. Cater feels himself beginning to break out in a cold sweat of panic, but he can't afford to lose his cool. It's not just the power of such an admission but...Ortho? His brother?
But Ortho is a robot.
Idia built him.
Idia built himself a brother.
Why would anyone do that?
There's only one reason, right? You put it all together and you're trying to fix a horrible, terrible mistake. You need to find a way to cope with something that's impossible to cope with. Instead of grieving, Idia did the only thing that made sense to him. Cater doesn't want to know any more. It's already way too much. But even so, his hands clench more tightly around Idia's. Gently, he asks, "How old were you?"
no subject
Friends are so difficult to gain but so easy to lose.
"... seven, I think." His voice has gone soft and tired, thick with tears. "Tried to partition off the bad sectors, data's corrupted here and there." Shock weathered away so much of those days, except for the electric shock agony of he's gone, Ortho's gone that layered into every inch of who Idia was and is. "What I did... that's embedded in the BIOS, won't ever forget."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)