dualislogs | [closed] dreams must end

He should be doing something. Something, anything; something with a purpose, something that meant anything. There was a buzzing living inside Tidus’s head ever since he found out—since the dam he’d attempted to plaster with excuses had burst, leaving him with nothing but anger. An anger with no target, no goal. Nothing to do but to fester inside him, chewing at his insides.

And what was he doing now to remedy it? Wandering, the city morphing its architecture from one corner to the next, yet the buildings continuing to crowd all around. It made his mood worse somehow, but so did everything. He couldn’t keep inside the dorm doing nothing, yet swimming in a pool filled with obnoxious sounds bouncing around his ears wasn’t going to help. And what else did he have? There were plans before, considerations; a hope he could be normal, find some understanding in himself and all that happened before the city. There was everything that could have been, and sure, it was hopeful. Maybe idealistic. He knew the city was trouble, but still…

Yuna…

The sounds change, the whirring of automatic doors and a sudden burst of heat, and Tidus doesn't pay the store any attention. His gaze is set only as far in front of him as need be, where the open space ahead starts to close into a narrow alley. There’s feet, and he’s seen plenty on the trek that’s taken him out here, but there’s something about this time and place, just something about them, that burns the fuel in him.

Tidus quickens his pace, head kept hung, his shoulders stiffening as his hands (with their knuckles already sore, but that's a comfort) shove away into his pockets.

And he less than subtly shoves himself into the person where there’s an obvious wide berth of space available to either of them.

Squall avoids Premium Foods when he can. Some of his former coworkers still work there and are generally glad to see him, even give him their employee discounts when he has to shop there, but he'd rather not have anything to do with the place anymore. He'd never felt more beat down than working retail.

Naturally, that means the next time the city streets shift, he finds himself walking along the familiar alley alongside the grocery store. He clicks his tongue, annoyed, and kept walking. He's had enough of this city. It granted him a chance to make amends but everything is right on the edge of being taken away too. He paid no mind to the blond coming his way, except he kept coming his way.

By the time he opens his mouth to say something, Tidus is already in his space and-- that was a shove. There's no way that wasn't a shove. He scowls and steps to the side, annoyance coloring his face and voice.

"Watch it."

Tidus is already turned to face Squall, chin up, finally having reason to acknowledge more than their lower half. Sounds and looks like a promise, and it makes him giddy behind his own hardened stare, gives a target for the bite he wants to take so desperately. His fists come out with his right hand splaying out, waving in a mock gesture. Expression hardened, his brow as tight as the hard pull of his mouth.

“Do something about it,” he goads, voice thick. Tidus steps forward, and he's aware of his own limbs, watching for Squall's—and he won't stop stop moving into his space until he has to practically bump Squall again.

He startin'.

He’s been moving in a daze. It’s different from when he arrived here: where the city was even more surreal, its and his existence those things he questioned, because he was in that bizarre position to do so and not be completely crazy. It had been dream-like: bumping into Yuna, the spiel the Head fed him, the provided essentials for living and the freedom that came with it. All wasn’t as it wanted to appear, and Tidus knew, learnt—yet there was always that hope. Hope was what kept you going. Hope was holding Yuna and knowing she could hold you back this time, that you weren’t going to be quite so alone.

Tear it out, and you find just how much it can encompass you and leave you hollow. Tidus doesn’t think, but his head whirrs with a buzzing.

It’s an unfortunate scene, loud and attracting: a person just trying to hand out leaflets to those passing the streets, and they’re feeling enthusiastic despite the cooling weather. Just take it they say when Tidus tries to step aside, shoving themselves back in his way. They’re pushy but not hostile, just eager, patting the paper to Tidus’s chest.

Tidus offers them a fist back for their trouble, knocking them straight onto their back. He stares wide-eyed and wild but sees nothing, the buzzing between his ears growing louder. Onlookers stop and stare, and there's shouting, pained screaming, and Tidus might just grab at that person again with some kind of further intent, though even he doesn't know what.

What's up with this kid? Squall narrows his eyes and takes a step back to adjust and shift into a more stable stance, fists clenched at his sides. Tidus is obviously looking for a fight. Fine by Squall. He needs a release of his own.

He throws a punch first the moment Tidus is within arm's reach, aiming for his face. No hold's barred. He doesn't have a reason to hold back when the blond started it first.

The incoming fist meets his left arm waiting for such a move, the knock it receives still uncomfortable, but it’s a minor inconvenience, a pain he wants. Tidus returns his right hand into a ball to jab at the guy’s upper gut, his other going to grab at the shoulder of his coat, shirt, whatever he’s wearing, and to start pushing him backward—if just to throw him off balance mentally or to actually throw him off his feet for real.

South is minding her own business, not getting in any trouble or causing problems or doing something stupid for once. She's just planning a chill day, maybe more food than she could possibly need, possibly a nap. It's a sort of "Lazy Saturday" feel, she just wants to enjoy it.

Apparently, not everyone got the memo it's supposed to be a lazy, do nothing day.

The sounds of screaming has her curiosity perked and she can't help wandering over to catch a peek at who's doing what. She doesn't expect to see Tidus involved, and especially not looking like he's the one who has this guy squalling on the ground. She narrows her eyes a long second before she heads on over, still curious as hell but also a bit concerned. What happened to the little dopey puppy who she's pretty sure would hurt himself tripping over floppy puppy ears?

"This guy giving you problems?" She asks Tidus- fuck this guy, she doesn't know him! Plus, if the rando's squealing that loud, he's not dying or shit, so, double fuck him, he's fine. "You get attacked or something, fucked with? I swear to god I'll crush every single goddamn bone- You alright?"

Tidus ~~(who may also secretly be a basset hound in human form, from South’s perspective)~~ drops the guy onto his back again with his scattered leaflets, advertising nothing more than a promotion for a music night. He’s heard South, but it still takes him a moment to acknowledge her: stumbling back on his own feet, his hands tense and frozen in front of his chest. Eyes still enlarged, even when he does look at South. If he wasn’t so tanned, he might just look pale.

“They— Yuna.” Now he stumbles against the tongue in his mouth. “It’s Yuna. She— they— they took Yuna!”

Anger follows her name, and he kicks the ground where the guy had been, having fortunately had the sense to scramble and already be collecting himself on his feet (but not with one last squeak at what could’ve just happened). Tidus’s hands go back into his hair, and he turns away, not knowing where to look, where to go, panic rising in him.

“They did something to her, didn’t they? They did something— and I wasn’t there! I wasn’t there!”

Squall grunts when the punch lands, barely lessened by his failed attempt to pull out of the way. The movement halted by Tidus's grip on his sleeveless shirt. He loosens his fist to grab Tidus's shirt in turn, quick steps back at the push until he pivots to swap their positions so he could be the one doing the shoving. A much faster and harsher shove towards the wall.

Oh. Yea, that's bad. She's at a loss, staring at him oh so helpfully as he has his meltdown. Finally, her brain kicks into gear, and she moves to him, a faint hushing coming from her. South's hands lift then fall a few times until they finally reach out in an attempt to catch his shoulders, aiming to try and embrace him- awkwardly, if successful, very awkwardly because, well, she's not great at this...comforting and calming down thing. She's usually the one being soothed, not doing the soothing.

"Hey, hey, c'mon bud, c'mere..." She rumbles out in a low, soft hum of a tone. She's not going to say it's okay, because it's not okay, far from it.

"Titus, hey alright, listen. People pop in and out all the time- doesn't mean anyone took her or did something." She tries to explain, because she's heard of people being here one second and gone the next, innocent enough explanation like that, because other only other option is- "Look, even if you were glued to her, it wouldn't matter. It's bullshit, but it's outta your control here, Ti."

Tidus doesn’t refuse South, but he doesn’t reciprocate, arms left hanging at his sides and his entire body a trembling mess of nerves. Was she right? Was she lying? Whether to be kind, or because always, they’re always listening. His hands clench and unfurl, and he hates that he doesn’t know what to believe. About Yuna. About anything.

“They told me they took her home. They showed me a video of her, back in Spira. From her perspective.” His voice shakes, but it’s low, head tilted to speak with some privacy near to her ear. “They said it was a mistake she was here. But they said it would take a year to send any of us home. People say, don’t believe them. They can't be trusted.”

His voice becomes rougher, harder to control. A heat growing in his words with the lump beginning to scratch at his throat.

“I found a—machine. It looked like her…” Sounded like her, just like her. Tidus grits his teeth, chokes on the sob he fails to keep back, that shudders through him.

“You told me what happened,” he finally says. With the machines. Tidus steps out of the embrace, head staying hung until he can find the strength to look at South in the eyes, unwavering. His cheeks red, eyes wet but refusing to break the dam. Watching her, waiting to see the truth in some form.

"Tell me what you really believe. I don't want lies."

It's definitely the most awkward of awkward embraces, she doesn't know what to do with her own hands, but she's trying. She pats his shoulders, his back, rubs her palm in a small circle against him, pulling on what North's done for her in the past to provide comfort. He makes it look easy, this is funky as hell. She just. Keeps trying to give something to anchor him, letting him speak, not bothering to spare much of a glance to anyone peeping over at them save for the occasional glare if someone looks for too long. Maybe because that's easier to focus on than the distraught boy.

But then he's talking about some...robo-lookalike, and she's fighting the urge to stiffen and tense in return. She reluctantly meets his eyes when he steps back, a frown pulling at her lips. What she believes. No lies. That makes her give another hard look around, not trusting speaking openly. Her hand moves to try and catch his shoulder to bring him close again and to "reassure" him as she nods.

"We can trust the head, if they say she had to go, it's true. As for the...machine you seen, we're still figuring all of that out, if they're not worried then it's okay." She says automatically, loudly, but her eyes are pleading that there's more. "C'mon, lets go somewhere quiet to calm down. You kicked up a lot of dust around here."

She tries to convey in her expression that they can't talk here, that he needs to follow her somewhere quiet to "calm down", somewhere with less people so she can actually talk.

His breathing rattles in his throat, all that heat that had been in him feeling snuffed out, leaving him despondent. Tidus doesn’t miss the look in her eyes, the monotone level in her voice despite how it stresses.

But still it takes him a moment to say anything, or to give any indication; his gaze dropping to the ground, before he nods, blinking, his face becoming wet by a few tears. The rest though, he keeps back.

He’ll follow, however, wherever South wants to lead.

South guides them away from onlookers and prying ears, mumbling a few soft words that she hopes are both actually comforting and adds believability to her excuse of just getting him away from the situation to calm down. Last thing she needs is someone seeing or hearing her going against any status quo with the Head or Mayor.

As soon as she deems it a safe enough spot, she rounds on him to face him, hands moving to try resting on his shoulders.

"What do you mean you seen a...machine? What happened? Was it like a robot clone of her?" She rattles off the questions, gaze searching his face. She knows he's hurting, she'll address that soon enough, but she's more worried about any repeat of possible murderbots.

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...

Tidus’s back meets the wall easy with how close it is, the fabric of his jacket stopping an elbow scraping against concrete, leaving only a slight sting.

It’s inconsequential; what matters is the second where he questions if to let his defences go (let the guy at him, he deserves it) or to meet him just as hard (treat him as a replacement for what he didn’t get to stop). Yet his body answers for him, a fist coming to hit somewhere around Squall’s cheek or upper chest, wherever it manages to land.

Might as well keep giving the guy a reason to make him want to hurt.

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."

[closed] dreams must end

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