mayfield_rpg

Entry tags:

c: firo prochainezo

seven

[Firo doesn't like believing anything Mayfield says, but when he hears the information some of the others got from Zemekis, he has trouble not believing it. Everyone else seems to accept it as truth, and from what little he can understand in all the talk about copies and simulations, the gaping glitch holes and the way Mayfield could really mess with their heads seems to back it up.

And he finds knowing he's just a copy oddly comforting. If there's a "real" him back home, then that means Ennis will stay alive no matter what happens to him in Mayfield and that business with his Family keep running as normal. Of course, that also means he's basically superfluous.

He doesn't know what he'll do now, since it seems his survival suddenly isn't as big of a priority as it once was and whatever he does probably won't mean anything. He's ready to postpone answering that question until he can fully grasp what's been going on these past months, but it suddenly doesn't matter.

Because now someone else is deciding for him.

Controlled by Mrs. Johnson, Firo's out roaming the Mayfield streets, knife in hand and ready to kill. It's one of his worst nightmares; as much as he struggles to regain control, he just can't. He thought it would come from Szilard's memories, but who's doing it doesn't matter--what matters is what they'll make him do. If he sees anyone he'll call out a warning to them:]

Don't come near me! I can't stop-!

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[No, it won't matter. He knows that, but for some reason he can't say it out loud so explicitly.]

I told you, they don't need me.

[It's basically the same thing to him.

Firo can't stop himself from advancing, and he watches, pained, as Czes examines his wound. Of course it hurts, immortal or not Czes is a kid. And of course Firo's wounds hurt, but he won't admit it. It shows enough in how he limps.]

...I'm sorry.

Shut up! [Czes has never raised his voice like this against Firo since they met here. He's been scared of it and not comfortable enough around the capo, here or in his memories of New York. But he can't help it as he thinks about the things he remembers. He isn't really real. He's a copy, or maybe he's not even a copy -- how does a copy know about its original if he's never met it? He could be the original, but a completely fictional one that these people thought up of for the hell of it. But if he was just a copy, or even fictional... then why?

Why did he have to remember all the suffering that never happened to this body? Was he still allowed to smile? Miria had said yes, but did that even apply to him when all it was was just that -- a memory? She wasn't even here to tell him again. And now Firo... Firo's saying that they don't matter just because they're not real.

Then what was all his suffering for?!]

I don't want to hear it! We're not just copies -- we are but that doesn't make us irrelevant!

[He shuts his eyes tightly as he feels his body rush forward, raising the knife and stabbing blindly; he doesn't know where he's aiming for, or if it hits.]

[Firo's stunned into silence. He'd thought he was being completely reasonable; if he's important as a person, it must be in how he's connected to his family. Out here, he can't really do anything for them, and if Czes doesn't kill him, then Firo will be forced to kill the kid. He just couldn't bear to do that, and the big reasons for him to put his life instead of anyone else's are gone now.

Of course he doesn't want to die. He just suddenly isn't so concerned about it.]

Czes, I- That's not what I meant! It's just-

[He stops talking as he just barely parries the blade that was going straight for his torso. Even if he did want to die, it looks like Mrs. Johnson isn't too keen on letting him. His own knife moves to slide down Czes's and slash at his fingers.]

[Czeslaw can deal with cuts. Cuts and gashes aren't worth crying over because he's gone through enough of those that it's hardly anything at all. But fingers are different; fingers are small, and his are especially, and Firo's body knows what it is doing when it slices at them.

He sucks in his breath and lets it out in a silent scream as he drops his knife. It hurts and he's not sure if he prefers the Rail Tracer's teeth over knives for hurting himself with. He stumbles on his feet in his shock and falls forward onto the ground. He's shaking and trying not to cry until the wound closes.]

It's... that's exactly what you meant. [It's almost a whisper, his words still shaky.]

[Firo's used to hurting people until they cry. It's part of his job, and, honestly, it can be a bit enjoyable if the person's obnoxious enough. But Czes isn't an enemy in any way to Firo, so seeing him like that (and knowing he caused it) is enough to make him feel like he's being torn apart inside. The fact that Czes is just a kid makes it even worse.]

N-no, Czes, I...

[What can he say? He has no idea how to reply to Czes's accusations--there's some truth in them--and seeing the kid in such pain has him practically speechless.

With the "enemy" weakened, if temporarily, Firo's pushed in to strike again. But he's not at his best. He's not immortal here; the cut on his knee is still troubling him even if his body is used to pushing past pain. He's not as fast to close in as he normally would be, and he basically falls to his knees to get at a better angle for striking Czes. He doesn't even have time to wince; his eyes widen in horror as his knife goes for Czes's neck.]

Czes, move!

Huh-- !! [His own fast recovery saves him; Czes looks up and scrambles away just in time to avoid the blow. He rolls a couple of times until he can get to his feet, his healed hand gripping his knife again.]

Who cares if we're just copies, Firo? [He frowns at Firo sadly, shaking his head.

With Firo injured, Czes can now move a little faster than him on his feet. His body moves forward as soon as his words end, and he's tackling Firo to the ground.]

[Firo can't move out of the way in time, and he tumbles to the ground. He grits his teeth against the pain, and to keep from shouting at Czes to shut up. This fight is painful enough, he doesn't want to have to discuss their state and its implications as well. He doesn't need any reminders that he's never going home.]

...Maybe it's better if we are.

[In a forced attempt as self-defense, he stabs for the area between two of Czes's ribs.]

If you want to think so it's-- [The rest of his sentence is cut off when the knife sinks in. It seems that Mrs. Johnson isn't so desperate to keep him completely unscathed because he can recover from them. Czes knows; this sort of wound would take so long to kill him that he'd recover before he even lost consciousness.

Which just meant that it hurt the entire time, and it shows on his face. He turns white and his little body shudders as he falls forward and clutches at Firo's shirt tightly. His face is scrunched up in pain.]

... I-it doesn't matter if we're copies, Firo. Because it still hurts to get stabbed, and you still miss everyone, don't you?

You still... you still want to see Miss Ennis, don't you? Aren't you sad or angry at all that after all this time, they're telling us we don't matter?!

[It does hurt to get stabbed, and it hurts the most to see Czes's face look so pained and know that he's the one responsible. Firo wants to close his eyes or look away or turn the knife on himself as he feels his wrist start to rotate and the knife turns with it.

He's whispering under his breath no, no, no and cursing himself, but he stops when Czes brings up Ennis.]

What-? I...

[It's been so long since he's seen her, but her face and her voice haven't slipped from his memory too much. It's like a punch to the chest to have it all flood back into his head so clearly at a time like this.]

O-of course I miss her... But there's nothin' I can do about that.

[All good things come to an end. Firo knew that, he just wasn't prepared for it.]

Firo... [He grits his teeth against the pain and sucks in air through them, slowly, trying to bear it. Still, there are tears on his eyelashes and a gasp and a whimper when he feels the knife twisting.

He's trembling, but he makes sure he looks straight into Firo's eyes when he speaks again.]

Firo... Do you think immortals are still human?

[The knife keeps twisting, steady against Firo's struggles to halt it.He blinks, eyes wide with surprise at Czes's question and fear at his own actions.]

What do you mean? Of course we are!

[He'd only say Szilard wasn't human--though now that Firo's essentially torturing a friend he wonders if maybe he isn't a bit similar to that old man after all.]

[Czeslaw wishes Mrs. Johnson would let him pull out the knife, at least. He can feel his body healing itself around the knife, but it still hurts a lot and feels uncomfortable. He bites his lip once before continuing.]

I'm more than two hundred years old, Firo... you can crush my entire body, you can burn me to ashes, you can cut me apart and throw me into different oceans and I'll still come back to life. I've been a child for longer than America's been a country. I've seen so many people die... and it's never going to end.

What are we? Are we still human or are we some kind of monster? If we're still human... can you really still say something like us is still living?

[The knife does come out, since Czes simply continues to heal around it, but it only does so to find another entry point. This time it sweeps in for Czes's stomach, even as Firo grits his teeth and tries to hold it back.]

What're you talkin' about? Of course we're alive, that's the whole point!

[Though he knows where Czes is coming from. Monster, vampire... He's heard a lot of words to describe what they are. They're different, that much is certain, but he never stopped to think that they might be different enough from the average human to really be something else.]

Why would we be monsters just 'cause we come back to life?

[Szilard was always a monster, it was just becoming immortal that gave him the power to show it, or so Firo thought.]

[Crouched over Firo the way he is, Czes can only dodge so much. The knife doesn't stab as deep before he grabs at it, to push it away.]

But can you call us alive when we can't die? How do we know if we're really alive if we don't grow or really die -- isn't that the point of being alive? But we don't do any of that.

But we're still able to act like we're alive. We still feel pain when we get hurt, we can still like people, we can still dislike people -- we get sad and happy and we act just like any other human!

[That isn't the most pleasant aspect of his immortality that Czes remembers. He furrows his eyebrows and and shakes his head as he raises his knife to press against Firo's throat.]

And that's still the same here, isn't it? We might be copies, and we might not be able to get home... But we still exist, you know?

[Firo growls in frustration. Why is Czes asking this now? They have bigger things to deal with!]

I don't know! How'm I supposed to know any a' that?

[He had a job back home that kept him from thinking about stuff like that--or, rather, his original self did. When he became immortal he still didn't care too much for philosophy; an eternity is for doing things, not just for thinking. And how can he even think when he's stabbing his friend and there's a knife at his throat?

He withdraws his own knife to try and force Czes's scalpel away, but it's near impossible to reach the proper angle.]

Of course we exist! Just... just not in their world. Do we?

[And it's that world that matters to Firo.]

Edited 2012-12-19 03:06 (UTC)

[Czes presses the knife against Firo's throat more. The blade isn't sharp enough to tear the skin yet, though.]

But we exist here! Isn't that enough?

Why aren't you trying? How can you just give up like that?!

[Unable to work his knife to where he can defend against Czes, Firo moves to cut at his fingers instead.]

I'm not givin' up! I just- I...

[What use is he now? His Family doesn't need him, and it turns out he was never the one keeping Ennis alive. He has Barton and Czes and his Mayfield friends to live for, he supposes, but there's still the deep pain of remembering that family that's now lost to him. There used to be so many reasons for him to stick around, now there's only a handful. It makes the choice between him and Czes much easier. He can't live in place of a friend when his life is only worth something to himself.

He looks away, unable to face Czes or his own knife.]

...I told you, it doesn't matter as much anymore. You can go ahead and kill me, maybe then she'll let you go.

[Czes may have killed Firo then and there if his fingers were working, but that isn't to be. He finally pulls away and scrambles off of Firo's body. He dropped his knife in the retreat, and even though his fingers heal he's unarmed now, and he looks... hurt, as he frowns down at Firo.]

I don't want to kill you, Firo. [He doesn't want to kill anyone anymore 8C ]

Come on. I'll come back, but you might not. I don't want to end up on my own here.

[Firo's driven to scramble to his feet and limp towards Czes. His injured leg is a painful reminder of his mortality.

If he was moving under his own power, he would have frozen in his tracks at Czes's last sentence. Right. He's been so caught up in what's not there that he completely neglected to consider that Czes needs someone looking after him if they're released from Mrs. Johnson's control.]

I'm... I'm sorry.

[He growls and shakes his head. The other thing holding him back was that he just can't bear to hurt his friend. It's painfully short term thinking, but that's the kind of thinking Firo often finds himself trapped in. If Czes is killed here and comes back, he'll have someone to be with him. If that person is killed instead... Mayfield isn't the kind of place a child should be left alone, even if that child is actually centuries old.]

Then what? Am I supposed to just kill you?

That's what I'm saying. [Mrs. Johnson is well aware that the scalpel was Czeslaw's only weapon, and she intends to make him get it back. Czes' eyes stay on Firo, but his body is already leaning to move at it.]

Go ahead... do it! [He raises his voice. He doesn't want to tell something like this to Firo, but he really doesn't want to risk killing him and not having Firo in this reality with him anymore.] It won't be anything, you can't do anything to me that I haven't experienced before.

I'm not gonna do that to you!

[But Mrs. Johnson is all too happy to oblige. Firo steps forward, kicking at the scalpel to move it farther away from Czes, but his injury prevents the kick from having enough power to send it completely out of his reach. That seems to be good enough for Mrs. Johnson's purposes, so he takes another step forward, tightening his grip on his knife.

Czes's last statement can't go without comment. Firo's not an innocent; he's been involved in gang activity from a relatively young age. Torture isn't his thing, but he would have thought he'd have more knowledge of such things than Czes--a sort of cultural osmosis, considering the people he calls friends.

Boy, is he in for a surprise.]

...What do you mean?

Then what are we going to do! If I try to get my knife, I'll be running straight at yours... and I don't care.

[He looks uncomfortable. He knows that Firo devoured Szilard. How much did that old man know about him and Fermet? How could he know how much Firo knew about them? If he told Firo... would Firo know? Then he'd have to deal with him knowing what happened between the two of them. He can't have that. He just can't, anything but that.]

... I'm used to getting hurt. Did you really think I could live this long in a body that doesn't grow, and not have people think I'm a freak? [He's lying, but they're lies that make sense.] Anything Mrs. Johnson can think of making you do to me with that knife, I've probably gone through it at least twice.

You don't..?

[He wants to spit Czes's words right back at him, but the key difference is that Czes is immortal right now, and Firo isn't. What Czes says next just makes Firo more disturbed at the thought of killing him, even temporarily. He doesn't want Czes to associate him with people who'd kill a child for being a "freak."]

...I'm sorry.

[He doesn't know what else to say, though he wishes he could find all those people and give them twice what they gave to Czes.

That thought will have to wait, because Mrs. Johnson's control orders him to charge at Czes, knife out to slash at his arms if he tries to defend himself.]

Damn it!

[Of course he's going to defend himself. Under Mrs. Johnson's control, the two of them are participants in a choreographed fight. Czes flinches at the new wounds and shakes his head to hide the tears. It's been a while since he was repeatedly injured like this.]

I won't hold it against you.

That doesn't matter, you'll still be hurt!

[His hand shoots out to grab at the back of Czes's collar in an attempt to hold him in place while he readies his knife. All the while he prays that Czes will b quick enough to get out of the way.]

I'll hold it against me!

seven

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Holy catfish, I typoed that last tag horribly, I'm sorry! There should've been another bracket

It's okay <3

Thanks! <3