dualislogs | [closed] dreams must end

He wants answers, and that alone is a comfort, something for him to cling onto. Tidus otherwise moves on automatic until South finally stops, doesn’t give more than a cursory glance to one of her arms extended to meet his shoulders.

“I thought it was her. I was confused. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Everyone said, it had my face, but Tidus didn’t think about that when he saw her. He didn't know what to think, at first. “It was just like her,” and his voice lifts, mouth pulling like into a smile, “except she—stuttered. And I heard it. It wasn’t… it wasn’t her.”

But his mouth turns into a grimace, pointed at his hands he's lifted from his sides, stares at them in the space between them.

"Was it aggressive? What'd it do- what'd it say?" She presses, fighting the urge to shake answers out of him. He doesn't need that- hell, he doesn't need this, her questions, but she needs answers.

It'll just be a sec, just a few more details, then she'll focus on the now part of the issues, the robot bullshit will be filed away to discuss with someone else sometime else.

“It was just her,” Tidus repeats, this time with more energy. His hands lower as his chin raises, eyes meeting South’s face. “It was—Yuna. She knew me. She didn’t know what I meant about her disappearing. I hugged her and she hugged me back, and she laughed—”

And the sound of it was— He breathes in, eyes screwing shut as he gives himself that moment.

“I ran. After I knew…” His gaze on South’s face isn’t as steady this time. Lips parting for words he doesn’t want to say, sticking to his throat. But he has to. He needs to.

“Is she?” He swallows hard, takes a hold of South's shoulders now in his hands, not caring if he knocks her hold on him. His fingers press in without squeezing. "Is Yuna..."

He can't finish it.

She's a little distracted with mental notes and her thoughts whirling with what it could mean, nodding faintly but holding his gaze when he looks at her. None of her thoughts point to anything good with it, if the bots are...that advanced. Could they actually replace people?

South blinks back to focus when his hands catch her shoulders, her touch moving to his forearms lightly, giving a soft squeeze to them as she shakes her head.

"No, she's not." She doesn't say 'dead' but it's implied. Does she really know? Not really, not even a little. Girl probably is dead, bottom of a shallow grave, replaced with a bot. But she's not going to tell him those assumptions. No.

Instead, she pulls up a lopsided smile, squeezes his arms again, and says with a fully confident voice, "She's fine, Titus. She's just back home now, where you'll go sooner or later. She's alive and well, we just gotta stick it out here a bit longer before we get sent to our homes, too."

She can lie well, she can sound entirely convincing, she can pull up a smile and soften her eyes and reassure him it's all okay. It's all fine.

"But that'll be easier if you're not running around half-cocked punching people." She tries to twist the subject a bit, tries to lighten him and distract him while her own thoughts dwell on the situation of murderbot clones, "Didn't anyone ever teach you how to get in a fight and not be the one at fault?"

Is her answer comforting? No. It’s as comforting as it was the first time, with her pointed looks, the double meaning. It’s better than dead, sure, but it doesn’t feel it. Right now, everything is somewhere between numb and too much; a cork on a champagne bottle, not ready to burst, but it will at some point.

For now, he’s in an uncertain place. Might be able to tell what South is doing, but it doesn’t really land like it should. He shakes his head, or something like the motion, his movements sluggish.

“I learned to fight to protect her.” To protect himself too, but in the end, everything came back to Yuna. He rocks on his feet a little, his hands having already fallen off South. “I...don’t know what to do now.”

And he might think it pathetic later, but for now, he wasn’t even sure what to do now. He just wipes at his face, his eyes stinging, but even the tears stopping, that want to cry.

She's just. Going to keep pushing to a less...problematic state, as much as she can. She moves a hand to try helping with pushing the tears away from his cheek, shaking her head.

"Look, you can't just throw the first punch. You gotta bait em into swinging first, that way you're just defending yourself." She explains, like it's the most obvious thing ever. "While a good fight would do you some good right now, you gotta do it the right way."

Tidus ducks his head away from her, a refusal of the gesture, but brings his hand down to show a somewhat dry (if blotchy red) face--or really just to look at South, and to better listen to what she’s talking about. He’s nothing more than sniffles for the time being.

“What? Who am I gonna fight?” He still feels in a daze and not really sure about anything, but manages, “I can’t just pick fights with people off the street.”

Does he want to fight? Sure, he wouldn't mind going and doing some damage at that temple, but...

She lets him move as he wishes, just hovering near and awkwardly trying to think of ways to help. This is North's skill, she has no idea how to do this-!

"Not off the street, Christ! But go to a bar, mean-mug someone, get em pissed enough to throw a punch, then kick their ass." She replies simply, easily, it's obviously the most well known thing to do!

"Tell you what, kiddo. I'll get you a few drinks, we'll go to a seedy place, stir some shit up, and you can go to town "defending" yourself. Everyone wins." Except whoever's ass they kick, but, whatever. They'll 'start' it, they'll get what they deserve and are asking for-!!

South what are these strange suggestions in this alien language. Why would Tidus agree to any of this—

"Okay." —except he does, if hesitantly. Then he agrees again, "Alright," with more conviction, realising that he doesn't really care what he was doing, as long as it was something. As long as it wasn't alone.

"When?"

Hey, drinking, fighting, and fucking are the best way to handle most if not all of life's problems, especially heartache. She's only suggested two out of the three, but the day's still young-!

"I'd say right now, but there's probably not a whole lot of options for assholes to fight with this early." She hums in thought, reaching out in an attempt to push lightly on his shoulder, "Maybe in a couple hours? We can snag a burger or something right now, get some food in you so you don't float away with the shots later."

He looks at her when she nudges him, but there's nothing to the look than the half-dazed expression he's been wearing through most of this. This may be his stuck default expression for a while.

"Okay." ...that sounds pathetic after saying it already, and Tidus swallows, tries to pull his mouth into something that isn't a smile, but isn't so lost. "Thanks."

He takes a step back and observes where they are, saying as he looks back: "I met her near a café with cats. I don't know if the streets are still the same." It may sound random, except- "I don't know where she went after I left her."

May have one (1) worry about bumping into now-robo-girlfriend.

It's...well, it's heartbreaking to see him so deflated. It makes her want to rip out someone's throat if it'd help anything, angry he has to go through this and that there's little to nothing she can even fucking do.

She frowns a bit when he explains, glancing around before trying to nudge his arm to get him following again, "Well, if you wanna, you can keep your eyes down until we get to the burger place. If I see her, I'll change directions so you don't gotta deal with any of it."

Okay, she's saying that's what she'll do, but... honestly, if she sees a robo-clone, she might just have to "deprogram" it. With a good hit to the head. Repeatedly. Until it's just wires on the ground.

Please don't beat up robo-clone girlfriend, South. It's a sensible idea though, so Tidus nods, "Yeah—alright," and he'll do exactly that: keep his eyes low to a point where he still knows where he's going and he isn't going to bump into anyone, and maybe— maybe he looks off sometimes, wondering, a strange mix between hope and fear.

(So maybe he's not so good at being sensible.)

There's nothing he'll have to say along the way unprompted, when all he can think to talk about is her. He knows it's damaging to do, but he doesn't know where else to take his thoughts.

No promises, though she'd probably at least try to do it out of sight- but she doesn't get the chance.

As they go along, South has zero problems filling the silence with mindless chatter, rambling on about the food and how good the place is, and hey it was down this road but lets just keep going and also their fries are great, just rattling off until they reach the doors. The smell of food is heavy in the cool air, and the inside is a nice toasty temperature, just what she'd think could help at least a little. Comfort food.

"So I'm for sure getting the big burger and some fries, maybe a shake." She finally finishes as they get inside, looking over at him, "Any idea what you're thinking to get?"

This is far too normal. He might as well be entering the establishment to give an impromptu speech, or be preparing for his first ever blitzball match. Then again, no--not that. Tidus knows what to do with blitzball. This? Being normal? Acting like everything is alright?

“--Fries,” he says after a small delay, not wanting to get anything, but he might as well that. “I can buy,” he adds, looking at South. “You’re buying tonight, right?" A joke without the humour, an attempt made. "Let me get this. What shake?”

Normal is good. Normal is what she wants to give him with all the shit he's dealing with. Distractions, normalcy, something to just...forget and unwind a little.

"Boy, if you even attempt to pay for a godddamn thing tonight, I will dislocate half your fingers." She says it with a grin and teasing tone, but god knows it might actually happen. "This is my treat, the whole day, the whole night, don't worry about shit. You can make it up another time if you really need to, but not this time."

"I guess I like my fingers," he concedes mildly, a small nod of the head. "Okay. I'll get us a table."

Which just leaves him to thoughts by himself, sitting in place and feeling uncomfortable for it. Wishing he'd asked for a drink, but not about to get up or shoot over the request. Everyone chattering around him, life just...going on. When South does join him though, there is a thought ready on his tongue, his arms on the table and his fingers idly messing with one another. Head dipped, with eyes on the surface.

"You don't think there's a chance to...change things, do you? You know, me and Yuna--we're not from the same time. It's been two years for her." It was two years for her? --He doesn't want to think about things like that. "A guy at the dance told me, you know, that happens here. Not everyone's from the same time."

At least there's the noise of the kitchen and the other eaters surrounding them to give some cover to the conversation, the way Tidus speaks without so much energy. Not that it's anything more than a thought.

(But then--what if?)

Don't worry, Titus, she has you covered. Even with a shake, you can properly enjoy greasy food without carbonated sugar, setting a cup in front of him and glancing at the ticket in her hand to double check the order number. Easy peasy.

Until it isn't.

She stares at him a second as she sits, considering his question. She didn't have a clue if they came from the same place it might not be the same time, she just assumed...

Of course, her first thought is they couldn't change shit. If they could, she'd be finding a way to get info back to her parents when she was just a kid, a tot, warn them of- But they can't. Shit happens and that's how it is, right? Suck it up and move on.

But she doesn't say any of that. He doesn't need that right now, he's hurting enough. So she pulls on a genuine looking grin and shrugs, nodding her head slightly.

"Yeah, if they can pop in from different times, they can give us info or we can give them some, like a time traveler warning of the future."

He huffs, a small chuckle on the breath. It sounds stupid, doesn't it? When it's said back to him, even with the intention of going along with him. He makes a fist with one hand, relaxes it, then brings it to rest by the edge of the table in front of him. Slowly clenching, unclenching.

"Wouldn't that be great?" It's said sardonically. "We can fix all our mistakes." There's a tension building between his shoulder-blades, growing uncomfortable. He's just sitting here, doing nothing. Pretending, just pretending...

"I wasn't serious enough. I wanted to go along with this, you know. Part of me... I wanted things to be normal for a while. Just feel...alive. I didn't like she was here, but I thought it would be okay. I'd take care of her. I promised--I'd find a way to keep her safe."

His shoulders hunch, his head hanging more; his one hand not pressed to the side of the table coming up to rest against the side of his head, as if supporting it.

[closed] dreams must end

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