thingpuncher | @glavesworn.

Midnighter leans back, rage barely contained. He knows it's childish. He wants to break something, to lose his composure, to destroy everything. Is this how Andrew felt? Nobody's really ever broken up with him before. Tried to kill him, sure, tried to destroy him. He had the 'just friends' conversation with Jason. But he never- no one he cared about has ever just given up on him.

Nyx gave up on him.

The thought deflates his rage, but only slightly. It's still there, seething and coiled in his gut, but it's mixed with tired resentment. This is another one of those life experiences he has to drag himself through. Another painful, ugly reminder that he's ignorant of everything that matters.

Why the fuck would Nyx want to stick his neck out for that.

The rage turns inward. "How long have you been fucking with me?" Midnighter hisses, "before or after the- when you woke up." The nightmare. When Midnighter had been so fucking sure Nyx at least cared about him, at least a little.

How long have you been laughing at me?

"Fucking with you?"

Repeated back with a scoff, equal parts sarcasm and contempt. Simple enough to play the part, though it takes effort, real effort to keep the taunt out of his voice. Ardyn can tell that he needn't worry-- the puppet would read enough into it all the same.

(Blue light, soft words, and hazy tenderness. The puppet had held hope in his heart once, not so long ago. How adorable.)

"Don't be ridiculous. You should have known better than to think that this could have been anything more." And just to twist the blade deeper, he looks up to meet (to savor) the fury and heartbreak in Midnighter's eyes, armed with a word plucked fresh from his ravaged mind and the velvet croon of his voice like a blade unsheathed. "Not a chance, with a freak like you."

He doesn't have a defense against that.

Midnighter has never been completely disregarded by someone he loved. No one's ever rejected him so fully. Things fall apart, but he usually doesn't misread the situation this poorly. But he's an idiot, he just wanted someone to fill the hole Matt left, and he reached out to the first person who would stick around.

And maybe Nyx did feel something-- those moments of vulnerability seemed so genuine-- but he's thought better of it. He's spent enough time away from the front, in his own world, to realize Midnighter has no place in it.

And now he's being a fucking asshole about it, because when he's away from the front, no longer shaking from his own trauma, he doesn't need to be nice. Fuck, how did Midnighter miss the pattern? He feels like he missed something crucial, but he was never good with people. Never was one. He's the freak again.

"Fuck you," is all Midnighter can say in defense, cold and sad and with not nearly enough spite. He keeps his eyes off Nyx, avoiding his gaze. How the fuck can he look at him now? "You're- you didn't have to-" No, everything he says is just pathetic. A vulnerability he can't stand.

Midnighter forces himself to look up, and reaches out, shoving a hand into Nyx's shoulder. It's a hit far stronger than a human should be, and far weaker than it could be from Midnighter's hand. He just wants to get the man away from him.

"I never wanna see your fucking face again. Go to hell."

He turns away. "Door." And he's gone.

Something hits home, as Ardyn looks on hungrily, all that brightly incandescent rage snuffed out in an instant, a bang into a whimper of pain, crushing confusion and despair, and it is delightful. Midnighter's strength catches him by surprise, spinning him back and into the wall, as he disappears into square of swirling gold, and the portal has barely closed before Ardyn doubles over, laughing uproariously.

And a couple hours later, Nyx himself has finally been detached from the princess's retinue and is none too discreetly wandering around on the rooftop looking for a familiar flash of close-shaved reddish-brown hair and sharp blue eyes. But there's nothing and no one, only solemn-faced waiters clearing away the remnants from the table and cocktail napkins flapping in the wind. Nyx's brows draw together before he pulls out his phone. Maybe Midnighter had gotten bored and left. Doesn't seem like what he'd do, but the man had been acting weird earlier that night too. Can superhuman fighting robot brains get indigestion?

m?

hey
where the hell did u go?

are you deaf now too
fuck off

what

Nyx stares at his phone, absolutely baffled.

what's gotten into u

is this more knife twist bullshit
i get thats how u get off but im not into it anymore
get fucked

ha ha
that's not fucking funny m
did somebody take a piss in ur champagne at the party or something

oh like calling me a freak was hilarious
are you drunk
is that what this is

There's a solid five minute gap between texts as Nyx stares at Midnighter's message, trying to make sense of the words. Nope, still nothing.

no
are you?

seriously midnighter if this is a joke
im not laughing

Another pause.

ur not a freak
what the fuck

what changed your mind
me not being a fucking doormat anymore

Edited (icon...........) 2018-01-30 03:07 (UTC)

midnighter what the fuck is going on

Fuck, he's had enough of them talking around each other. If Midnighter is going to keep on hurling crazy fucking accusations at him, then he might as well do it to his face.

my apartment
fifteen minutes.

Midnighter meant it when he said he didn't want to see him again. He also does, though-- the series of texts where Nyx played dumb were enough to make Midnighter want to sock him in the jaw. He barely touched him last time.

In fifteen minutes, Midnighter appears in a glow of orange, stepping into a dingy apartment only recently familiar. He has the kingsglaive robes folded under his arm-- he's back to a T-shirt and jeans-- and he'd planned on throwing them in Nyx's fucking face.

But being here, seeing Nyx, knowing the stupid reverence he has for that uniform... Midnighter sets the clothes down carefully on a nearby table. He's still in love with him, otherwise everything wouldn't hurt. "What's your excuse now, amnesia? It's not contagious, you know."

As for Nyx, he's still in uniform, having just hurried back to his apartment from the Citadel. Midnighter catches him just pulling off his second boot, and the expression on his face makes something in his chest tighten. Nyx doesn't think he's ever seen him look this way before-- sharp and borderline savage, ready to throw down.

At least, Nyx has never had that expression directed at him before. He rises to meet Midnighter, to meet that fierce glare with his own hard gaze.

"No, we're not fucking doing this again. Not until you tell me what the hell happened back there."

He's not as bright and beautiful, just Nyx, the man he's used to and loves and wishes he didn't. It's almost a relief.

"Are you honestly telling me you forgot luring me away to fucking- mock me?" He wishes like fuck his voice didn't break there. His teeth grind against each other. "And I'm the fucking freak?"

"What--?!"

The air escapes his lungs in a sharp exhale, and there's no disguising the look of utter confusion, shock on his face. He has no idea what Midnighter's angry about, but the conviction on his face, the anger, the waver in his voice-- had he done something and forgotten, just like Midnighter was suggesting? Amnesia? A fit of madness? That's all bullshit, but even so-- Nyx sputters, scrambling for words.

"I didn't... I was with the delegation all evening. I barely saw you. What are you fucking talking about?"

And almost an indignant afterthought, brow creased, still trying to puzzle things through--

"I'd never call you a freak." Anger hasn't quite caught up yet, and his tone is plaintive. Whatever happened, shouldn't Midnighter know that?

It's so earnest, that lapse in confidence, the way his skin doesn't seem to glow with effusive warmth, the way he looks kind of sweaty under the heavy uniform, his tired face-- Nyx. Somehow, he feels like he missed this. Something clicks in the back of Midnighter's mind, but he isn't sure what.

"This is like last time," he murmurs, hesitant to shake off his anger, but having difficulty keeping it in the face of him. "You were so fucking sweet, and then-" he looks up harshly, gesturing sharply at nothing. He doesn't have words for it.

They're in another dimension. This occurs to Midnighter far too slowly. "Does- does this sort of shit happen, here? People lose time, or... hallucinate?" He doesn't like the idea that he's at fault, but something is wrong here. The look of confusion on Nyx's face is just too genuine.

So fucking sweet, and then... what? Nyx isn't sure he wants Midnighter to finish that sentence, and yet there's still that pang of morbid curiosity. What the fuck did the Nyx in Midnighter's memory do or say to rattle him so badly? Sure, Nyx himself would never-- call him names and shit, but that couldn't have been the worst of it.

"...No. I've never heard of anything like that." Not more than Nyx's usual lapses into bad memories and old pain, at least, but even that's... not what Midnighter is describing. Not even close.

"Think I'd hear about it if somebody spiked the punch bowl. Or if you went and drank the whole bar dry. Maybe some bad shrimp?" A joke, sort of. Nyx isn't sure if they're back in joking territory yet, but this is all... unmapped, uncharted emotional and conversational ground for him, and he a blind man fumbling around on hands and knees, trying to feel out the shape of things and not coming up with a single fucking clue.

That little quip leaves him out of things to say in the face of Midnighter's confusion and fury, so Nyx instead takes a ginger step forward, then another to gingerly rest the back of his hand against Midnighter's forehead, finding it easier to do something than to keep fumbling for more words. Once he'd run a high fever and dreamed he was a bridge, so hey... can the computer brain overheat?

"You were acting all weird earlier. Did something happen?" Nyx knows shitall about Midnighter's world, but maybe it had something to do with whatever he was up to before the assignment. "What, uh... what did it, what did I say?"

It's a completely alien gesture, one Midnighter only knows the origins of because he's seen it on television. It's heartbreakingly sweet, Nyx thinking he can get fevers. Midnighter leans into the touch despite himself, still expecting Nyx to turn cold at any moment, grinning and mocking him.

But he doesn't. He asks after Midnighter, concerned and friendly, the man Midnighter's been missing since that stupid festival. And maybe that was a hallucination, too. Maybe he's losing his fucking mind. The computer could be breaking down-- maybe it wasn't meant to put up with this amount of interdimensional travel. He'll have to call Apollo to put him out of his mystery-- Apollo would understand. Midnighter's too dangerous to be hallucinating like this.

Midnighter closes his eyes, and recites from perfect memory-- "'Should I say instead how much I missed you? But we both know that would be a lie', shit like that. Look- I saw security cameras. There's gotta be tapes. And if I'm just... talking to myself, I'll get outta your hair." But he needs to know.

"Fuck that. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out together." No hesitation, even as he's raising a hand to tap at his earpiece, turning aside to speak into it.

"Hey Pelna, got a favor to ask. Again, yeah. Sorry, next round's on me. Yeah. Again. Look, I need you to pull all the tapes from that party on the roof. All of them, but don't let anyone know. Yeah, there's something wr-- another one of my hunches, sure. Just let me know when you've got access."

The first hurtle crossed, Nyx clicks off the connection and turns back to face Midnighter, expression grim and focused as his mind turns Midnighter's words over and over again in his head. How much I missed you... A strangely personal jab. A version of him that had called Midnighter a freak, told him that he didn't... miss him?

"How'd that even come up anyway?"

And he's just... forgiven, so quickly, without hesitation. Midnighter's breath catches in his throat. He doesn't deserve this. Especially after... whatever just happened, he isn't sure. If his computer is malfunctioning, it's the end of him. It's the most logical explanation, though; nothing else makes sense.

It might mean he's dying.

Luckily, Midnighter is designed to be self-sufficient; he can't linger on the thought of mortality too long.

"You came by at the gala." You were so beautiful. "Asked why I was angry with you. Said some real sweet shit, and asked me to meet you by the servant's quarters when I didn't roll over."

Is it possible Nyx never really said anything worth being angry over in the first place? How long has Midnighter been hallucinating? Anger and fear mix in the pit of his stomach.

"I didn't see much of you at the gala," Nyx replies slowly, "I didn't leave my post with the delegation." So there already, a contradiction. But it's hard for him to imagine Midnighter, of all people, just-- dreaming up something to get outraged about. Let alone some elaborate scene where Nyx just tears him to shreds.

Asked why I was angry with you. So does that mean he was already mad? What for?

"Is that the first time this has... fuck." Nyx rubs at his temples, trying to focus. "How the hell would you know, right? First time you've heard me say fucked up shit? Or anyone else?" What even qualifies as out of the ordinary here? Astrals take it all, Pelna should be sending over the footage soon enough, and they can figure things out from there.

"I said that," Midnighter shakes his head. "I was surprised you'd leave your post." He takes a step back, leaning against one of Nyx's rickety chairs, and rubs at the bridge of his nose.

"I don't know. I'm a prototype, remember? I could be malfunctioning." As ever, whenever he's in poor spirits, Midnighter begins to talk like he isn't human. Still, He's not sure why he'd malfunction this way. A glitch in his hardware should cause a seizure, not a lovelorn hallucination.

"Fuck," is the only response Nyx can manage, heartfelt and emphatic as he leans heavily back against the kitchen counter. Between their options-- some sort of blackout fit on Nyx's end, hallucinations, fucking ghosts, Midnighter malfunctioning does seem like their best bet.

But that's-- isn't that a big fucking deal? Nyx doesn't know what to say or do, whether he can help in any way, as much as he wants to. Fucking useless, not like he knows shit about computers or hardware, let along the complex workings of whatever makes up Midnighter. Not like he knows how to offer comfort, reassurance in the face of this. Futility beats its own rhythm in his ears even as he reaches out to set a tentative hand on Midnighter's shoulder.

"Anything you need, alright? Anything at all."

He hates this.

The beep of his email is a welcome distraction. Nyx opens the attachments included in Pelna's message and a video pops up. Waving Midnighter over, he hits play.

There's a strange graininess to the video, black spots appearing and disappearing, but Midnighter is clearly visible standing next to one of the long tables. More black spots, static crackling, blurring the feed, and then--

Nyx. Sauntering up to stand beside him.

"What the hell..." Shocked beyond words, his voice is all breath.

The video is too distant to capture any sound, but the body language between the two of them is evident-- Nyx, all smiles and charm, Midnighter closed off and angry, arms crossed. The figure that is and isn't Nyx leans in close, intimate, and then--

--bzzt. The feed dies. Try as Nyx might, he can't seem to bring it back up again. His fingers stumble over the keys, and he can't-- can't process what he just saw.

"You said... he-- fuck, I lured you out. Servant's quarters. When?"

But this is just more data. A welcome distraction from his own self-pity, or the incredible way his heart lurches when Nyx reaches out to him with concern. It's not love, he knows that now, but it's... kindness. Midnighter should learn to be happy with that.

The video is quickly analyzed, and Midnighter picks up a few oddities. Watching it from a detached perspective, Midnighter notes a slight difference in posture, a neatness and perfection the man next to him lacks. It's... odd. What's odder is- "Are the palace feeds always so low quality?" This is royalty they're talking about. Shouldn't they be able to shell out for better cameras?

But that's not the point. Midnighter answers the question-- "Hour and a half later. Right inside back entry."

no subject

actually maybe this scene would be better if i used nyx & his icons instead...

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject