( Clementine steps forward, picking up one of the fragile glasses from the shelving unit. She can tell he's struggling what to do now that he's here, but he came for a reason. It's the hardest part, making the choice, opening the door, reaching out to someone else.
Maybe she can help him get to the next step. )
Could help to start with dropping something if you're not sure what to do.
( It's less purposeful. It's almost like it could be an accident even if it's not at all, and when that follows through, there's throwing. There's using a weapon.
There's getting all that upset and anger out. He deserves to. )
[Angus looks back at the fragile objects when Clementine makes her suggestion, apparently weighing his options.]
...Maybe.
[His brow knits and he looks pointedly away from her, trying to hide how upset he's feeling, remembering why he's here.]
I've broken things before. On purpose. Tore my pillow. Thrown a glass. Kicked over vases. I act out and mess things up even though I pretend to be a good kid.
So I don't know... I don't know why it has to be so hard.
[He doesn't seek out situations where he ends up breaking things, is the thing. When he gets upset, when he feels like he's the worst and his brain is full of cotton, he just acts. And then he regrets it. It just makes things worse.
Feeling pain swell up in his chest again, anger at adults and his parents and the world and Georgia even though he shouldn't be angry at her and he cares so much about what she thinks of him, he picks up a glass.
He lets go of it.
Glass shatters at his feet. It's so dangerous, shards right by his shoes, but his mind is blank and he doesn't think about that right now.
The spell broken, he pushes over a whole table of china, and pieces scatter across the floor. He looks incredibly angry, an expression few people see on Angus. He glares at the broken bits of porcelain.]
( Clementine doesn't say anything at first. She lets him work his way through whatever he needs to work through. It's clear he's upset, but she doesn't point that out. It won't help to point that out, and anyway, it's okay (to be upset and to be angry, to want to wreck the whole world sometimes, because the world fucking sucks sometimes).
She's sorry for whatever has upset him so much, for whatever has made him so angry and so hurt. People don't always take kids seriously, but the world itself doesn't care (it hurts everybody, big or small or anything. it's not kind, and they deal with it and they keep going and going and going until they explode).
If he gets cut on the glass, she knows first aid, and there's a first aid kit here, but for now, he shouldn't have to worry about being safe or behaving right or being careful. For all the dangerous situations she's around herself, she can never afford to be reckless, and it was part of the appeal of this place (no rules, no need to be very quiet or to do anything in a certain way, it's safe to act without order or reason ).
It's not until the whole table's pushed over that she even thinks to speak again, and it's just to move forward with a bat this time, handing it to him without a word. )
Because maybe you feel like you always have to be in control. Because sometimes acting like this screws us when we just act and don't think or plan, when we're not careful.
But it won't screw us here. It's the one place where it's okay to fuck everything up, because nothing bad will happen if you do.
someday it will take me less than 100 years per tag and they'll be less than 100 miles in length
[He takes the bat, somewhat numbly. His knees are shaking. He's suddenly very aware of them.]
I'm... really good at fucking everything up.
[He laughs a little at his own somewhat dark joke, then laughs some more and takes the bat to some expensive-looking porcelain vases, sending shards flying when it crashes into them.
Angus knows all about being careful. He knows all about what happens when he's not. He's still unlearning years of fear of consequences. He's been largely unsupervised since he ran away from his parents' house -- and it was running away, wasn't it, to suddenly disappear to go live on a moon, leaving nothing but a vague note with no promise of a return -- but even at the Bureau Angus was still operating on his memory of hiding from his dad's stern gaze, the strict insistence he only be referred to as "sir"; his mom's promises of punishment for bad behavior, her following through even when he was sure he got it right this time; and his grandpa's no-nonsense instructions, the fiery temper that followed the man to the grave.
Idly, Angus doesn't want to compare his grandpa to his parents, even if he was just as strict most of the time. But his grandpa was far more caring and compassionate a man than they ever were, and Angus loved him, still loves him. He can't say the same for them.
But this isn't about his parents, even if their memory is what's held him back to this day. This is about Georgia, who he admires and cares about and wants to impress, and how he will probably never actually impress her. From the start, she was skeptical of him. He knows that's just how she is, how she treats everyone, but it stings all the more now that he's sure he just looked like an idiot arguing with her over something she knew way more about.
Of course she knew way more about the world. She's an adult. She'll always know better than him. Even if he can out-detective any adult in his world, he doesn't really know shit. She has the experience to tell him the world is cruel and wicked and the good guys aren't really good guys and they probably won't win.
But he wants her to feel like one of the good guys, at least. Because even still, he knows in his heart that she is. The ones that seek the truth are always the good guys. Angus can't let that part of him go.
Because if he does admit he's wrong about that, then he really doesn't know shit and nothing can protect him from losing his world and his loved ones and his own life to things like the Hunger anymore.
Angus looks up at Clementine and realizes he's been smashing and re-smashing the already-shattered pieces of the last vase he hit on the ground for a while now. He remembers to breathe.]
You're... You're from a world like Georgia's. But... worse. I'm-- I'm such an idiot.
[He wipes his eyes automatically, and he realizes how tearful he is almost as suddenly as he realized Clementine was still in the room.]
You both know so much better than me. I can't even count the number of serial murders I've solved and I still don't know anything.
sobs about it. it's so beautiful and painful tho .-. i love it
( Clementine stays near. She doesn't study or watch him, but just stays nearby in case he needs anything. For now, he should get to smash and re-smash and smash again until every last piece is shattered and then shattered one more time. There must be so much going on inside of his head. She can't tell what- She doesn't have the context as to what brought him here and what he's been through.
It's clear in his movements.
It's clear in the fact he's only half aware she's right here.
She takes a step forward when he looks at her as if realizing she's here. )
Angus. I've never stopped a single serial murderer. You know plenty, and you use that to do the right thing.
( He's smart. He cares. )
You know Georgia? ( She guesses it has something to do with why he's here. Everyone likely knows who Georgia is if they lived through the Event from her world. She's a big name there. She's important to Clementine. Clementine looks up to her, and she's gotten a lot of help and advice from her before, but they've disagreed before. ) What... happened?
and then i came back to tag this a million years late cause i couldnt let it go
No, I... I don't get what the world is really like. Or how things can be. Georgia said--
[He has to stop freaking out, he's freaking out. He idly steps on some porcelain shards, breaking them down further, taking a deep breath.]
I'm just a coddled little kid. Georgia explained everything about her world and I... I argued with her!
[He rubs at his head, as if trying to wipe the memory out of it.]
I don't... even know how to explain what she said. Like how the... how everything is so corrupt she can't do anything about it even though she keeps trying, even though it killed her, and I just...
[Moreso than what Georgia said, Angus can't find the words for what he said. It all seems like the foolishness of a child compared to Georgia's experience.]
Georgia likes it when you argue with her. She doesn't want people just believing her like that.
( she wanted clementine to think for herself even if it didn't line up with what georgia thought, and it meant a lot to clementine. she's still trying to figure out how to deal with this world, how to think about this world in a different way than her own. )
I've disagreed with her before too. I promise it doesn't mean she thinks less of you. Don't worry about that.
( her jaw locks a bit at the rest, shifting from one foot to the next. she tosses something fragile to the floor to watch it shatter before she looks back at angus. )
Sometimes there's shit we can't stop. Sometimes the world can't be changed at all, Angus. No matter how hard we try. Some people try anyway. That makes them good. I agree with you. She's always been a hero to me. But it's hard for people to take that sometimes especially if they've had to live with the consequences- if they've had to live with the shit their actions did, right or not.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
( Clementine steps forward, picking up one of the fragile glasses from the shelving unit. She can tell he's struggling what to do now that he's here, but he came for a reason. It's the hardest part, making the choice, opening the door, reaching out to someone else.
Maybe she can help him get to the next step. )
Could help to start with dropping something if you're not sure what to do.
( It's less purposeful. It's almost like it could be an accident even if it's not at all, and when that follows through, there's throwing. There's using a weapon.
There's getting all that upset and anger out. He deserves to. )
no subject
...Maybe.
[His brow knits and he looks pointedly away from her, trying to hide how upset he's feeling, remembering why he's here.]
I've broken things before. On purpose. Tore my pillow. Thrown a glass. Kicked over vases. I act out and mess things up even though I pretend to be a good kid.
So I don't know... I don't know why it has to be so hard.
[He doesn't seek out situations where he ends up breaking things, is the thing. When he gets upset, when he feels like he's the worst and his brain is full of cotton, he just acts. And then he regrets it. It just makes things worse.
Feeling pain swell up in his chest again, anger at adults and his parents and the world and Georgia even though he shouldn't be angry at her and he cares so much about what she thinks of him, he picks up a glass.
He lets go of it.
Glass shatters at his feet. It's so dangerous, shards right by his shoes, but his mind is blank and he doesn't think about that right now.
The spell broken, he pushes over a whole table of china, and pieces scatter across the floor. He looks incredibly angry, an expression few people see on Angus. He glares at the broken bits of porcelain.]
no subject
She's sorry for whatever has upset him so much, for whatever has made him so angry and so hurt. People don't always take kids seriously, but the world itself doesn't care (it hurts everybody, big or small or anything. it's not kind, and they deal with it and they keep going and going and going until they explode).
If he gets cut on the glass, she knows first aid, and there's a first aid kit here, but for now, he shouldn't have to worry about being safe or behaving right or being careful. For all the dangerous situations she's around herself, she can never afford to be reckless, and it was part of the appeal of this place (no rules, no need to be very quiet or to do anything in a certain way, it's safe to act without order or reason ).
It's not until the whole table's pushed over that she even thinks to speak again, and it's just to move forward with a bat this time, handing it to him without a word. )
Because maybe you feel like you always have to be in control. Because sometimes acting like this screws us when we just act and don't think or plan, when we're not careful.
But it won't screw us here. It's the one place where it's okay to fuck everything up, because nothing bad will happen if you do.
someday it will take me less than 100 years per tag and they'll be less than 100 miles in length
I'm... really good at fucking everything up.
[He laughs a little at his own somewhat dark joke, then laughs some more and takes the bat to some expensive-looking porcelain vases, sending shards flying when it crashes into them.
Angus knows all about being careful. He knows all about what happens when he's not. He's still unlearning years of fear of consequences. He's been largely unsupervised since he ran away from his parents' house -- and it was running away, wasn't it, to suddenly disappear to go live on a moon, leaving nothing but a vague note with no promise of a return -- but even at the Bureau Angus was still operating on his memory of hiding from his dad's stern gaze, the strict insistence he only be referred to as "sir"; his mom's promises of punishment for bad behavior, her following through even when he was sure he got it right this time; and his grandpa's no-nonsense instructions, the fiery temper that followed the man to the grave.
Idly, Angus doesn't want to compare his grandpa to his parents, even if he was just as strict most of the time. But his grandpa was far more caring and compassionate a man than they ever were, and Angus loved him, still loves him. He can't say the same for them.
But this isn't about his parents, even if their memory is what's held him back to this day. This is about Georgia, who he admires and cares about and wants to impress, and how he will probably never actually impress her. From the start, she was skeptical of him. He knows that's just how she is, how she treats everyone, but it stings all the more now that he's sure he just looked like an idiot arguing with her over something she knew way more about.
Of course she knew way more about the world. She's an adult. She'll always know better than him. Even if he can out-detective any adult in his world, he doesn't really know shit. She has the experience to tell him the world is cruel and wicked and the good guys aren't really good guys and they probably won't win.
But he wants her to feel like one of the good guys, at least. Because even still, he knows in his heart that she is. The ones that seek the truth are always the good guys. Angus can't let that part of him go.
Because if he does admit he's wrong about that, then he really doesn't know shit and nothing can protect him from losing his world and his loved ones and his own life to things like the Hunger anymore.
Angus looks up at Clementine and realizes he's been smashing and re-smashing the already-shattered pieces of the last vase he hit on the ground for a while now. He remembers to breathe.]
You're... You're from a world like Georgia's. But... worse. I'm-- I'm such an idiot.
[He wipes his eyes automatically, and he realizes how tearful he is almost as suddenly as he realized Clementine was still in the room.]
You both know so much better than me. I can't even count the number of serial murders I've solved and I still don't know anything.
sobs about it. it's so beautiful and painful tho .-. i love it
It's clear in his movements.
It's clear in the fact he's only half aware she's right here.
She takes a step forward when he looks at her as if realizing she's here. )
Angus. I've never stopped a single serial murderer. You know plenty, and you use that to do the right thing.
( He's smart. He cares. )
You know Georgia? ( She guesses it has something to do with why he's here. Everyone likely knows who Georgia is if they lived through the Event from her world. She's a big name there. She's important to Clementine. Clementine looks up to her, and she's gotten a lot of help and advice from her before, but they've disagreed before. ) What... happened?
and then i came back to tag this a million years late cause i couldnt let it go
[He has to stop freaking out, he's freaking out. He idly steps on some porcelain shards, breaking them down further, taking a deep breath.]
I'm just a coddled little kid. Georgia explained everything about her world and I... I argued with her!
[He rubs at his head, as if trying to wipe the memory out of it.]
I don't... even know how to explain what she said. Like how the... how everything is so corrupt she can't do anything about it even though she keeps trying, even though it killed her, and I just...
[Moreso than what Georgia said, Angus can't find the words for what he said. It all seems like the foolishness of a child compared to Georgia's experience.]
She wouldn't accept me calling her a good person.
feel free to always come back to it .-.
( she wanted clementine to think for herself even if it didn't line up with what georgia thought, and it meant a lot to clementine. she's still trying to figure out how to deal with this world, how to think about this world in a different way than her own. )
I've disagreed with her before too. I promise it doesn't mean she thinks less of you. Don't worry about that.
( her jaw locks a bit at the rest, shifting from one foot to the next. she tosses something fragile to the floor to watch it shatter before she looks back at angus. )
Sometimes there's shit we can't stop. Sometimes the world can't be changed at all, Angus. No matter how hard we try. Some people try anyway. That makes them good. I agree with you. She's always been a hero to me. But it's hard for people to take that sometimes especially if they've had to live with the consequences- if they've had to live with the shit their actions did, right or not.
There's always a fallout.