Trish Una (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
figlia_morbida) wrote2022-08-08 05:05 pm
figlia_morbida) wrote2022-08-08 05:05 pm
Ryslig | IC inbox
Main Username: < Zigazigah >
Public Appearance UN: < Western_Horizon >
Anon: < sharpdistance > , < kidcharlemagne > (not actually anon now because of Hinata)
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As fake as it may be, it's real and grounding just for the intent behind it. So when she looks to him, her expression is soft.
Of course, she always will wonder where people think she stands with the boys...and how much she approves of them when they do things like Giorno had. She doesn't fault him for seeking Atem as an avenue, but...Atem, his safety matters far more than any intel. So she's surprised to hear him say that. Would Giorno have approved of her reaching out as well, with that in mind, or is it because Atem is so removed from the conflict that Giorno sees no harm in him trying? It's impossible to tell, so her silence in Giorno's wake can only be justified, right?]
It's because you're someone who's easy to talk to, Atem. Your questions come off as genuine interest. Maybe you have some motive, but it never feels that way.
[For her, motive is implicit meanwhile, and thus Doppio hardly shared a thing with her aside from one boggling peace offering. But that's neither here nor there.
Then...as if to prove her statement to Atem, Trish chews her lip. "The other guy", he says. Oh, she wonders about that man more often than she cares to, if only because he's baffling in every way.]
You and I feel the same way about Diavolo too.
[Trish is looking at Atem now, emerald green eyes gazing with a hardness not directed at the boy-king with a heart of gold.]
Did you ever notice any similarities between us? I haven't really mentioned it to anyone here, but he's...my father.
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But he also finds things to like about the people he meets pretty easily. Every monster he meets is intetrsting. His friends are so cool, and the things they like are cool, and it's cool that they like them. And if they act in ways that cause harm...often there's a reason. Since monsters can't die, the better way to handle it is to hear them out, and help. Murder's not a viable option anymore!
All of that, though, is less important than the bomb she's just dropped.]
Your father?!
[Give him a second to digest that.]
Sorry. I don't mean to be rude. He just didn't seem the type to have that kind of relationship!
[That guy seems like he'd be spooked by the sight of a nipple that wasn't his own, to be terribly honest.]
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Although Atem is far more generous than her, she's sure. People like Lusamine and Aunamee are simply irredeemable, but they were real monsters before their bodies changed to match the ugliness inside them.
Regardless, any dour thoughts are set aside as Atem reacts almost immediately to that revelation, and not in the way she expects.
Trish blinks, staring back for a beat, before she laughs. Really laughs. It's a stupid thing to laugh about, maybe, but then...Atem has no context besides what he's seen of Diavolo! She tries to picture herself in Atem's shoes, and it only gets funnier. It must sound goddamn strange to hear this after what little he's come to know of Diavolo.
Trish waves a hand then, still curled over her knees, but her smile is impossible to miss.]
No, be as rude as you like! I've honestly wondered the same many times. But I'm living proof, so I can't really deny it, can I?
[Okay, okay. She can't keep having a chuckle over this, because her next point isn't nearly as humorous.
Still, it's something she'll tuck away. She hasn't told anyone outside of her little circle exactly because it's so morbid, but well...Atem knows Doppio is a gangster. So maybe this will help him understand why Diavolo may be an issue. It's worth sharing, considering they have the same goal.
So Trish follows up her last statement without hesitation, her smile turning watery as she continues:]
Really, I don't care if you insult him or not. That man and I have no love for each other. He'd rather I was dead.
[This could be construed two different ways, she realizes; hyperbole, or fact. She's almost curious to see where Atem lands.]
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He grins, too, in shared mirth at the idea of Diavolo being too jumpy to sleep with anyone. It's gratifying to hear Trish laugh like that....Atem's not sure he has, before. She's so serious, wound so tight almost all of the time, and he's going to remember how her laughter echoes off the garden walls. A good memory.
He sobers too, though, when she talks about how her father wants her dead. It could be teenage angst -- my dad hates me!! -- but also, she turned pretty serious when she started talking about it. Hard to tell if it's exaggeration.]
What makes you say that...?
[Diavolo must have done something...does it have something to do with the gang? An unwillingness to follow in her father's footsteps, a decision that she's not worth keeping alive if she's not useful, or just a fight over it? Anger at her friendship with Giorno is a possibility, too. There's too many unknowns, so, he asks.
It's pretty awful, if Diavolo really does want Trish dead...but why would he?]
HIS META TEXT.....OOOOUGH
Atem is a young pharaoh, meaning his father was a king. All of Egypt bowed to them, right?
It's funny. If her father saw her as an heir and not an enemy, how different would her life have been? Would she move through the world as confidently as Atem does, knowing she could shape it by virtue of the power handed down to her by a father who held Italy under his thumb? But then...Passione hurt people. There was no true leadership to be had from it, ruling through fear, preying on the weak and destitute. That's why Atem is so sweet, and why the world he's showing her is bathed in a bright sun. Egypt had its own problems...but she's sure whoever raised Atem did it with love and care.
After all, Adam was devastated over the father he lost. Surely, that was no accident on the fake world's part. She was a friend in Giorno's, after all. The parallels had a basis in truth, surely.
As for Atem's question, Trish rests her hands on her knees, still watching him. This time, her smile does fall.]
Because he tried and failed to kill me.
[If not for Giorno and the others...she tries not to think about it, but as a consequence, she thinks about it anyway. All the time.]
I'm telling you this because I know you want to stay friends with Doppio, but with my father around, it might get complicated.
Diavolo...he doesn't think like a normal person, as you know. [She gestures vaguely.] I was never a threat to him. I'd never even met him. But he was convinced I could do him harm.
He often acts irrationally, is my point.
[Extraneous details, like the shared shape of their souls, and their Stands, is helpfully left out. She assumes Atem is from a saner world.]
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He's obsessed with keeping secrets, isn't he? Even his name -- he only gave that up to me because the flowers last month were killing him.
[His dark, finely lined brows furrow as he guesses:]
He thought you knew something -- something his enemies could use? And, instead of bringing you in, and determining what the actual danger to him might be...
...he acted irrationally.
[...he's going to reach out and take one of Trish's hands, wind their fingers together, and hold it on the sun-warmed flagstone between them.]
I'm sorry. You should have been treated better than that.
[It's not even the gang part he has an issue with. It's the betrayal of someone who should have been received with love and welcome.
They can get back to the main topic in a second, the one she's trying to illustrate with the anecdote. They're gonna talk about the anecdote first, focus on Trish, because what happened clearly hurts her.]
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Trish doesn't think further on that, however. She doesn't think further on anything for a blessed minute, startling a little when Atem's warm hand takes hers, lacing their fingers together and resting that link on even warmer stone. None of this is real, but she can see...how Ryslig can make even things that aren't real seem so true and present. The Atem under the illusion is cold and dead, and she's completely inhuman herself. But then...in a way, this is the real them. This is Atem as he was back home, before becoming a ghost. This is how he recognizes himself. Just like she still sees herself as a person deep down. That's not less real than the lie the fog god forces them to wear, when she thinks about it, when she feels Atem's hand in hers and thinks about what really, truly matters.
As for Diavolo, Trish isn't sure what she ultimately wanted from him. She certainly didn't want to be a gangster, not after living an average, comfortably mundane life. She'd be in danger the rest of her days as the daughter of a mob boss hounded by traitors eager to topple him. What Bruno told her to comfort her...only made her feel that much colder, honestly. She'd be taken from everything she ever knew, and be safer for it, but she would still never know her father, still be under the thrall of Passione. The best thing Diavolo could have done, then, was exactly what took place. He stole her away to kill her himself, but she lived because of that. She was handed over to Bruno's group, and was given a new future when Bruno betrayed an entire organization to uphold his ideals and save her life. He freed her. He freed Italy. Bruno Bucciarati and Giorno Giovanna, they changed everything.
Still, it's touching that Atem sees her pain and wants to soothe it before anything else, even if Diavolo is almost tangential to it now. It's not why she brought it up, but she squeezes his hand once, appreciatively.]
...It's alright. Like I said, I'd never met him once before then. So I wasn't surprised he wanted me dead.
I was the only one who knew from the start, I think. Everyone else tried to reassure me, just like you have, but you know better now. He wanted to keep his secrets, and I shared his blood. That alone was too much for him.
[Just like she thought Atem getting too close to Doppio might be too much. The fact he shared his name, however, even with the threat of death...that, and Atem hasn't mentioned any retribution for it.
Curious.]
But none of that matters here, does it? That's why I want to be able to coexist with them. Not because I think they deserve it, but because it would be pointless to fight them. If they're content to leave Italy and everything with it behind and start over, I won't stop them from doing that.
It's why I think you have a good chance with them. You have nothing to do with Italy or us, as far as either of them know. That's probably why Diavolo sought you out to speak his name to you.
[Spoken from her lips, it would be a curse. From Atem, it's just a name.]
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[He certainly intends to try. He squeezes Trish's hand back, once more, then lets it go.]
A lot of things that mattered so much at home are different here. Did I tell you, one of the most important people to me now is a tomb robber, whose spirit was combined with part of an evil god? Both of them tried to destroy Egypt, and the united version here doesn't even have a name...but I trust him entirely.
[Wild, how things happen. But Atem loves and trusts the Ring-Spirit better than a brother...]
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Well, for just a second. Because her companion decides to just drop that without preamble? Trish sits up, looking at Atem incredulously.]
...What?
[She is boring holes into his soul with her very eyes, she is.]
You can't be serious. Your world had awful gods like this one?
[A tomb robber, she can accept he exists and is a pain in the ass, but what do you mean he got soul-glued to some evil god? Who does this tomb robber think he is, Elias But Better?!]
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[Matter of fact. Straightforward. Dropping it like "we had smartwatches."]
I don't know how much of Egyptian religion was just superstition, but...at least a few of the gods were real! I saw them, and could call them...and fought one.
Only now, I can call him, too, and he can call me...
[A funny old world, is the tone Atem takes! He's had plenty of time to get used to all of this, he's accepted it...he doesn't find it hard to talk about, as long as he's believed.]
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?????
It's never occurred to her how closely some people here might have communed with gods, so maybe that's half of why she's baffled, but it certainly is a lot to take in and she feels she's valid to feel that way. But the way he phrases it...means he had some reservations.
Atem is a curious guy, so seeing is believing with him, mostly because he endeavors to find truths for himself. So maybe it was the same with the gods of his world. He sought them out, called to them...and when they answered, they proved themselves to him.]
Am I right to assume you hadn't met the gods of your world until very recently? Unless you're going to tell me you fought one while you were still half the size you are now.
[Because Atem...............is so small already.]
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[He picks up his big, clunky necklace, the one he usually has on, to illustrate what he's talking about.]
Though, it was called the Millennium Pendant back then! The gods I saw in my dreams were frightening, but ultimately on my side....I didn't have to fight the evil god until later.
[You know. Until he was a fully grown sixteen-year-old adult.]
I've been told that was how I died.
[...ah, he should probably explain!]
I remember being alive up to about age ten...but everything after that, I had to hear about secondhand.
[Shrug! Once again, much too casual about all of this. He's had time to get used to it, to accept it.]
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For the first time, Trish really sees the Puzzle for what it is. It was an interesting piece of jewelry already, in how unique and unusual it was in both shape and design, but now...that was absolutely not a context she could have anticipated or touched on even with her very best guess.
Although now that he's mentioned it, the eye at its center definitely is evocative of Egyptian imagery.
This is not something she admittedly knows how to reply to in a graceful way, either. He fought...gods, with gods at his flank. He doesn't remember anything past the age of ten, but he presumably died sometime after that.
Trish drums her nails on the stone between them. Click, click, click.]
Did anyone...explain why you wouldn't remember? Is that part of being a ghost?
[She hasn't forgotten that. After she met him possessing Ryou...he was very candid about it.]
cw self sacrifice!!
[Atem takes hold of the puzzle in one hand, but delicately: its points rest on one fingertip each, framing it gently, like it's a priceless treasure.]
Name magic...that's one of the easiest kinds. It's much easier than summoning your ka, or parting water, or things like that...
I wasn't a very good magic student. But even I could use my name to seal the evil god into a pendant. I had to use the part of my soul that had my memories, to make something powerful enough to hold it, but it worked. Both the god and I were sealed in, and Egypt was protected.
[Not hard to guess what pendant it is.]
It really is thanks to what happened in September that I remember anything from when I was alive at all...
ATEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But it is impossible to misunderstand the basic point. He gave up his name and his memories to seal an evil god away. And if he was freed, was that god also freed?
Due to a decision he was forced to make, Atem doesn't wholly remember where he came from. Trish looks up as he speaks, taking in the way the sun cuts sharp shapes and silhouettes out of the stone and how blue the sky is. And she...can further understand the appeal to him in coming here. The images aren't real, but they reinforce memories he thought were long gone. The faintest lines, given context. If he traces them enough, do they become clearer?
It's humbling. He doesn't remember much, but he seems to have held onto the core of his person. He was fighting that kind of battle long before showing up here. At least, that's what she assumes. She can't imagine not knowing herself and letting that sit.]
Does it feel strange to have them back?
[Before September...well, he knew he was missing something, but it must be hard to truly care when there's no face to put to those lost memories. So how does he feel now to know just what it is he might've lost?
She genuinely can't imagine.]
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I thought...I was part of someone else. I thought I was the fragment of his personality that would come forward when he was in trouble...I was what he was like when he was confident, and had the power of the Shadow Games at his command. I was happy like that. It was a little lonely, when his friends didn't know I was there, but it meant that I could protect what was important to him. His happiness was mine, too!
But...
Realizing that his heart wasn't my home, but not knowing what was -- that was strange!
[It's his turn to curl, his arms over his knees, which are drawn up to his chest. Atem's voice is confident, carefree, talking about this like it has no weight for him at all -- but that's not true.]
But now I know where I came from, even if it isn't complete. The memories I have, they're all precious...of this place, and of my time with Yugi. I don't want to lose any more of them...
[And that's what scares him. He keeps getting hurt. Dying. Going into states where he's not fully himself, where he does things he can't remember. He's already lost one memory. How much longer can he go on like this?
He can't. He can't, and he knows it.]
I don't want to to back to being that adrift.
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She always thought she stood on a poor foundation with her mother gone, but Atem...what he went through was unlike anything she's ever heard of.
When he mirrors her posture form earlier, she returns the gesture he offered her. A hand briefly, tentatively placed on his shoulder. It's weird to touch someone, but he didn't hesitate, just like Bruno never hesitated with her. It's the least she can do, when there's nothing else to be done, really.]
...No one would. It's only natural to want a place in the world. We've all got somewhere we belong, right?
[And...finding it is the hardest part.
Still:]
I don't think that means his heart wasn't your home. Home is wherever you're safe. He kept you safe, just like you kept him safe. If that weren't true, I don't know if you would've felt the way you did about him or his friends.
So, I think it's possible to have more than one home. This place helped you remember the first one you ever had, the one that shaped you as a person.
[It's not one he can go back to, however. Trish runs a hand through the hair at the nape of her neck when that particular thought strikes her.
And again when it makes her think of where they are now. He has precious memories of this place too, but that begs the question:]
...What do you consider your "home" in a world like this, Atem?
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[He puts his head down on his arms, sideways. The touch to his arm is welcome, grounding, but her next question...
"Home" had been the eighth floor of the 38-8. That had been where he'd felt safe. When Ryou was happy, and Steve and Celeste and Riley were around, just on the other side of the walls, there if he only called out...that had felt like home.
But that feeling had been taken from him, in January. When he was attacked, and Ryou was killed, and it became clear that he was on his own to deal with this, and that Ryou would never be the same. There's his home in the apartment, that he and Ryou share...but it's not the eighth floor and the people in it anymore.
The only people Atem feels he can rely on to keep himself safe...his idea of that is more realistic, now. It was a nice feeling, while he had it, but his sense of security was false. Ryslig...it would get to him no matter what, and just like the only place that feels like home is the apartment he and Ryou share, the only person he can rely on to protect him is him, and the only person who will prioritize him is Ryou.
But that's good. No one should extend themselves past what they can reasonably do...Atem should have learned this months ago.]
Right now...the apartment, with Ryou.
That's the only place I feel safe. It's the only place that feels like "home."
[He had been prevented from any retribution that might even the score, might get his good name and his pride back, because Ryou had requested it. He'd been powerless to secure himself, at least that way.
Which is why...which is why he has to get his sense of safety back another way. With power that will protect him -- an ability he won't be separated from, and can rely on...]
I guess those are connected, huh...
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Instead, he settles into it. That's fair, she thinks. Sometimes it's comfortable to stay that way, stay secure in the moment. When all corners of yourself are touching, shielding you and grounding you. It's an odd look for him though, from what she's seen of him.
Her nails click click click on the stone between them when she lets her hand drop, waiting for Atem's answer. There's some she conjures in her own mind, but ultimately she realizes she doesn't know who Atem sees fit to fall back on, at least right away. She assumes Ryou, and that thought seems to be proven right.
Still, it's hard to miss how Atem, as bright as the sun overhead, dims when the conversation takes this direction.
This place is hard on everyone, but he's always seemed to weather it the best of anyone. Then again, his foundation for home has always been shaky. Finding yet another place to call home in this world must have taken some time, and not having anywhere to belong is harrowing, she knows. Exhausting.
She hums.]
Yes, they are. Being home and being safe are synonymous. When I think about what you've been through, though...I think a person can be home too. It doesn't have to be a place. You proved that yourself.
[After all, he lived in someone's heart. That's closer than anyone will ever get to the boy he shared a body with.
Hell, when she met Ryou, he was possessed by Atem. If that isn't significant to the trust the share, especially after hearing all this...she'd be surprised.
So she continues, clenching her hand briefly like she's afraid to let this information go, but they're sharing themselves and their homes. And it feels...good, to share.]
That's what my mother was for me. I could have lived anywhere, as long as it was with her. Is it the same way for you and Ryou?
[Of course, people are fallible. But her mother was perfect to the end, in her eyes, and she has no idea that Atem might be leaning on someone who's struggling.]
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Would he be all right anywhere, as long as Ryou was with him...?]
...no one in Ryslig can protect you completely. There's no one I can be with that would mean safety. Ryou can't keep me from harm any more than anyone else...
...but, he does feel like a vital part of "home." I can trust him. We look out for each other as much as this place allows us to.
[Ryou is a help. Ryou's saved him from worse fates before, when it was allowed by the rules of the game. It's only the times when no one could have saved him, that...]
I think a person, or people, can be your home...and then it can change, and not be the case anymore. Ryou feels like home, now...if I moved anywhere, I would want him to come with me.
[Yugi had been home for a long time. But when Yugi was here, it was different. The Atem Yugi knew had moved out, and Yugi had grown to fill the space left. Yugi isn't home anymore.]
My family traveled from city to city, depending on where we needed to be. No one palace was "home"...but my father was. And my mother, and Maia, and Siamun. Everyone who'd have rooms here...
[He tilts his head, indicating the space around him.]
...I haven't heard you mention your mother before.
[This is said with a little bit of uncurling, a little more openness. If Trish would like to talk...Atem would like to listen. He'd like to hear about the person who raised Trish to be who she is...she must have been something else.
And it's easier to think about than the endless dangers of Ryslig, and the futility of standing against them.]
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This is him as he should be, but this is also a person who existed so long ago none of the people who know him now even existed. It's weird to think about. But less important than seeing him hale and whole. That matters more than anything else.
She waits, and her eyes flick briefly to the stone around them again, picturing the rooms hidden within. When her gaze falls back to Atem, she sees that bid for openness, and chews her lip. There's a lot on her mind, so she decides to start with this:]
I think you misunderstood me. When I say someone is safe, they're not...they can't be infallible. They can't protect you from everything, whether it's in a place like this or a world with normal problems. But they're somewhere you can return to, right? At least for awhile. That's what I mean by safe.
But it's like you said. For as long as they can be with us, they're home, until conflict, time, or something else takes them away.
[She gestures with a hand. The room responds, melding Atem's simulation with a surprisingly easy shift into another land. The sky is still clear, but the palace is now open, and the water they've settled before turns to frothy ocean waves lapping at their feet.
It's a seamless blend of Egypt and the Italian shores of Lacco Ameno.]
My mother certainly couldn't have done a single thing to protect me. Not even from everything that happened shortly before I came here. She was a normal woman in every sense of the word.
That didn't make her any less important to me. Why would it? I wasn't anyone special, and neither was she, but we meant the world to one another. Because...we were the only family we had, and that was enough for both of us. We moved a lot, too.
[She smiles at that, a small thing.]
Maybe not to palaces like your family, but wherever rent was cheapest. She passed away a few months before I met Giorno and the others. And you know what? I'm...grateful. I can't imagine her enduring what I have, and if we did survive all that together, what would she have done when she woke up and I was gone, spirited away to some world she could never know or reach? I know it would have broken her.
[There's a pause. Almost like she's struck by something, but she brushes past it.]
So...I get it. There's no such thing as being invulnerable except to not be aware at all. [In so many words: dead.] But you can be safe sometimes, enough to recover and keep going. We're adaptable, right? For better or worse.
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A person who won't hurt you. Not necessarily a person who guarantees safety.
He sees.]
I see what you mean, now. A person who is safe, who won't hurt you...not a person who can keep you from being hurt. That makes more sense.
[It probably says something about his state of mind, about the state he's been in for weeks--months--a year, now--that it's that kind of safety his mind jumps to, rather than "a person who won't hurt you, who you can shelter with."
He's been in danger no matter who he's with. He could be in danger now.]
Yeah. I know what you mean...when Yugi was brought here, it was a cruel thing. It's better, that he's in the Sea of Souls...
[In the end, Yugi hadn't been someone he could call for help, and he didn't want Atem's.
Sent away.]
Still, I'm sorry...that things happened in a way that made you feel that way, about losing her. That's more than anyone should have to endure.
[He looks out at the ocean that she's opened up, and the coastline beyond it. It's a lovely shore.]
You've called up a beautiful ocean.
"He's been in danger no matter who he's with. He could be in danger now." AUGH
There is no such thing as being protected entirely, and there never was.
It's the sum of what she and Bruno spoke of, and how the only sort of safety that exists is the safety of relief. A safe person is thus a relief from the world. But then, Trish has a support network, one that rushed to her side the moment she woke up here. So it's easy for her to say these things, and assume they'll stick. It's easy for her to assume Atem's support network is even more vast than her own.
Why wouldn't it be?]
It feels awful to say, doesn't it? But it's what I believe, so I'm glad...I'm truly grateful you understand where I'm coming from. We know they weren't weak, but what we have to deal with...
[Trish shakes her head.
She'd shake it more at that assertion too, but curiously, it's one Bruno shared too. Another person that feels that way about her, and she can only wonder if she comes off that weak too. But she's too stubborn not to see this through with them. With him.
The ocean continues to rise up to meet them, and Trish reaches down to let it submerge her finger tips. Farewell, ducks.]
...Thank you.
[Whether that's directed toward his prior comment, or his observation of the beach is unclear.
And she continues, gesturing to the rolling ocean waves, where a large, rocky outcropping breaks the otherwise smooth horizon:]
This is the Bay of San Montano, one of Ischia's most beautiful beaches. There's almost always clear skies here. The sky in your palace reminded me of it, and also made me think...even if you're from a thousand, thousand years ago, you've meshed with us so well. In fact, so many of us would never have met without this tiny, broken world, so if there's anything I'm grateful for in being aware of every inch of our pain here...
It's that if I have to endure something so awful, I'm happy it's with people like you.
[Because...Atem is safe.]