A/N:
I... don't really have anything to say~~
Hm. More of you need to review, man! I don't think I have terribly many readers, but even a "good job" or "more chapters!" review would be fine. It'd let me know there were readers, y'know~?
Anyways, as I said, don't really have anything to say. Any comments or complaints, you know who to go to.
Frère Jacques tune belongs to France and it's beautiful language, silly culture, and frightening songs. Have you heard their coocoo song? It's... god. It's messed up.
And Xenosaga's characters belongs to Namco and the like.
Chapter 3
Double Beatings
It felt so right. All the stress and pains of life had just melted away. All that mattered was the light but powerful rhythm in his chest. Both rhythms, for once in much too long, were equally strong and in sync…
Cerulean eyes opened quickly before snapping shut and refusing to look at that blinding light again. Unfortunately, he couldn't just go eternity blind, so he slowly opened half of one eyes, squinting to keep most the light out. He was in the women's cabin on the Elsa, lying dangerously close to the edge of a bed. When he went to get up, he was restrained; a quick glance brought the knowledge that there were hands gripping around his abdomen. They were tan, lithe… chaos? So, he must have heard him yelling and came to help.
"Thanks, chaos..." an idle glance back froze the very blood in his veins. Albedo. Gripping his abdomen—again. Just like he did when he was damn-near murdering him just a few moments ago. …or, really, whenever it was, if he'd fainted, it could have been longer. After all, it seemed Albedo was actually wearing pants—tight, pristine white with black checkers near the legs. No doubt they were actually his, but when or where he got them from, he had no idea.
Now, the real question was how to get him off. He could shoot one arm, but his brother could probably regenerate before he could shoot the other—and that would wake him up. He could try and pry them off, but his brother was physically much strong—and that would wake him up. He could go Red Dragon and burn them off, but his brother would enjoy that too much—and that would wake him up. He was running out of options and…
A groggy voice broke in, cheery despite the tiredness lacing it. "Frère beau bête, frère beau bête…" the grip increased "Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?" and began to pull him closer, "Sonnez les matins, sonnez les matins…" gave a deep inhale of his scent, "Ding dang dong. Ding dang dong," and let him go. Wait, what?
"You… ugh! What the hell?" the redhead scrambled off the bed, arming himself with both pistols, releasing the safety, and cocking them back.
"So quick to unsheathe your claws, my draconic king," a small chuckle, shaking his head.
"Shut u—"
"Rubedo. I'm glad to see you up and moving so quickly," there seemed to be some honesty, some concern and truth to that statement… but the fact that he was one of the causes of the problem rather countered any sentimental value it might have.
"You… you're a fucking psychopath! Agh…" dropped one of his guns and his hand went to his chest, cursing lightly under his breath.
"Now, now. Don't get so worked up; and especially don't yell. Shakes your little body too much," a rather prideful smirk, but it was missing its usual boldness. "…Rubedo, you should lie back down…" gestured to the vacant spot beside him.
"Like hell I'm sleeping beside you! You just about ripped me a new one! Those holes were nearly an inch deep an-and…!" and he was scared to hell he'd do it again, or finish the job in his sleep.
"And you need to rest," the older looking got off the bed, gesturing to the now empty area. "My hopeless other half," a small, mock bow before the redhead pushed past him and laid down, glaring.
"…where are your gloves?" the redhead stared at those bare arms, frowning.
"Mm? Oh…" looked up in thought for a moment before smirking. "After bandaging you up, I went right to sleep. Didn't bother to put them back on. And, besides, I wanted to ask you which color you preferred," Which color? How the hell many did he have? They were gloves!
The albino was investigating his nails, when Jr. glared at them, and turned his head. No claws. They were sharp, sure; the whites of the nails made perfect little equilateral triangles. But, they weren't nearly as bad as the glove's claws, those monstrous things that ripped into his flesh not too long ago.
"Your nails…" he gestured lightly towards them, sighing and keeping his hand over his bicep. It was still hurting like hell with each pulse of his double hearts, but was manageable.
"Are human. And perfect, if I do say so myself," all the variants were rather prideful individuals, especially in the areas of their appearance. And why not? They were genetically engineered children; anything unappealing was eliminated before birth.
"…why the hell did you do that?" the boy growled, glaring daggers.
"Honestly, Rubedo, you're so vague. Why did I do what? Why did I hurt you? Mend you? Care what color you like? I'm guessing it's green. The girl's eyes were green, and your best friend's eyes are a bit green as well. And you chose Nigredo over me, so there must be something there. And when we fought the other day you were wearing lime green pants… and you're so envious of other's stature. Yes, green must be it!" a small laugh, nodding to himself as if he figured out some great puzzle.
"Shut up! My favorite color doesn't matter, what I want to know—"
"Aw, do you not have a favorite color? Some people just don't. You are pretty vain, so I guess red might be an option… but, no. You hate the red about you, even if it's part of your every being. That's why red is my favorite color. …mm, and just think, red and white together, we make that adorable little pink you treasure so dearly," that vaguely jealous tone was back, though subtle.
"My favorite color is not pink," the redhead growled back.
"So, you do have a favorite color…" the whitehead deduced.
"Well, yeah, but—hey! Whoa, not again. No. Why the hell did you rip me apart then put me back together?" the oldest finally managed to get out, thoroughly flustered it took so long.
"You reminded me of unpleasant memories: I thought it best to punish you. Don't you feel better, being punished for your sins? Repentance!" spread out both arms, tilting his head up; so reminiscent of when he began to drift off to the sky so shortly ago… quickly looked back down, eyes locking on to their target.
"You almost killed me!" the boy raged at his almost-killer.
"Please. As if the Red Dragon is so weak to die from a few sword wounds,"
"The dragon'll sure as hell die from poison-tipped arrows!" the white-headed variant raised a brow, surprised at his older brother for picking up his metaphors. How wonderful. A sick smile crossed his features, straightening his posture.
"No," was the simple reply, shaking his head. "That isn't right. Everyone knows that dragons have tough scale that arrows cannot pierce. No, poisoned daggers perhaps; or even rabies of a wild beast. Though, the latter would be better if I bit you, rather than—oh! I did bite you some. How is the ear going?" a rather loud, amused laugh, but it was cut short; and replaced with a rather serious glare. "But, not arrows; what a ridiculous notion," the redhead just gaped, no clue how to reply. He felt insulted, but was he really going to argue about something like this? He'd read way more stuff with dragons in it than Albedo! …hadn't he? He read a lot more than Albedo, he figured; but, he was quoting the classics so often, maybe between his mass murders, he was reading and memorizing even more than the redhead. The thought was somewhat a blow to his pride, and he immediately wanted to go to Second Miltia: to Jin's book shop.
"What the hell ever! There's scaleless dragons, too! They're way more lithe and still kick ass,"
"Don't those tend to be gray or other, equally dull colors? I'm speaking of a red dragon—passionate, brilliant red. Their scales are strong as the rubies they devour for protection," damnit. He did read as much as him. What sort of random fact could prove his superiority in this literary battle? "I wonder what your rubies are, Rubedo… the souls of those you killed?"
"Nu-uh. I don't have any rubies, which is why my scale is thin and able to be pierced by arrows. So, hah!" despite still lying down, and much too sore to get up, he still tilted his head in superiority. He won. There was no possible come back, he'd been proven right and—
"So, you're admitting you have terribly low defenses? Tsk, Rubedo. We must work on those…" the redhead glared, unhappy to have lost their verbal duel. The only things he could say in rebuttal were just straight-up mean, and he'd feel guilty for them afterwards; mudslinging wasn't his forte.
"…are you just going to stand there all day?" the link master frowned, staring at the steady figure all-but hovering over him. He wouldn't be able to sleep, knowing a predator was lurking.
"You would make a most delicious prey, Rubedo…"
"Stay the hell out of my head, Albedo!" the twin shrugged nonchalantly.
"I wanted to know why you were so upset about me watching you sleep," the albino stated.
"It's creepy. And you're—you're looking at me in the conniving way of yours!" a loud laugh resonated, and the boy reached up to cover his ears, and screw his eyes shut. He just laughed and laughed and it was so damn annoying! He felt the weight shift on the bed and tore his eyes open to see his brother climbing back in it. "No! Nu-uh! Sleep on another bed or the floor or something! I already told you I didn't want to sleep with you, we're too old to—" wait. That wasn't the issue. He was a psychopath that would kill him in his sleep, that was the reason. So, why was he trying to shove him out like a kid…
"Won't you quiet down? I'm trying to get my gloves. I just saw them lying behind you," picked up said lavender gloves, shaking them at the other a few times for good measure. "Honestly, Rubedo. You seem almost embarrassed. Are you thinking naughty things?" a wide, conniving smirk, tapping him on the nose with ungloved finger. Those cerulean orbs tried reading the other amidst their own confusion, a blush covering his cheeks at the mere notion.
"Of course not! Ugh! You're always so demented and…" his words were silenced by a velvet tongue sliding along his parted, speaking lips. Froze for a moment, eyes wide; then, shoved the other off, hoping off the bed himself. "I'm—you…!" he couldn't handle him by himself. He was too long gone, for much too long. Sanity? That had to be a bad joke to the psychopath. Eyed the door before deciding to run to it, only to be whisked off the ground a moment later by his brother.
"So impatient, Rubedo! How are you me?" snickered more to himself than the other.
"Let me go! That wasn't what I meant!" the boy raged back.
"Mm… this is getting a bit old…" dropped the redhead a good two feet, luckily landing on his knees before hands then face. "Go on, then. Go running to your petit ange. He won't help us, he'll just help himself, help the world, but not us. He will only complicate things further," the first variant finally got on his feet, backing up a bit.
"Albedo… you need help," he couldn't mask the sorrow in his voice. He didn't want him to need help; he was his brother! He should be able to fix him…
"Only the flame of your rage can help me… my draconic king," got down on one knee, bowing as a hero ready to be knighted.
"You need professional help!" the boy raged, wanting to force his brother up, "Stop bowing to me!"
"Is that an order, link master?" he didn't move from his subservient position. He was still as the statue he sat on in the Song of Nephilim. The so-called link master did not want to order him. He wasn't their leader anymore! Well—he was—but… but there was no Yuriev Institute left to give them their missions.
"I…"
"You?" the albino mocked yet again.
"As your link master, I say stop bowing to me! Get the hell up!" at least he didn't have to say 'order' or 'command,' but he still felt like shit.
"As you wish," and the amethyst-eyed man was standing at his full height, staring down at the other with a strange look. It looked almost like amusement but… warmer?
"And stop it with the creepy stares!" maybe he could get a lot out of him in this moment when he was actually listening.
"Yes, sir," the albino nearly mocked, reaching up and resting a hand on his eye. The redhead was about to roll his eyes, thinking his brother was going to pull the typical 'I won't look at you, then' routine. His irritation quickly turned to horror when that resting hand began releasing blood as the white-headed dug into his eye.
"S-stop it…" he wanted to yell and scream, but the sight was just too terrible. It was but a moment later that his not-currently-regenerating brother offered his lord his left eye, gaping hole gushing blood from its socket. "I—I don't… I don't want that!"
"Tsk… make up your mind, mon roux. I went through all that effort to stop my staring, and you refuse my allegiance? So very cruel…" crushed the eye in his hand, to have it regenerate seconds later; his vision and son visage coated in blood.
The look on that cherubim face was perfect. He looked scared, mad, confused, disgusted. And was that pride, joy under the surface? Just past the false blue, hidden in the swarm of burning red. Yes, yes; it must have been. His precious redhead must have been happy, for such a strong display of his affection. While he was able to regenerate, he liked to think even if he was perfectly mortal, he'd do the same. If he was perfectly mortal, his body would be a testament to Rubedo; he would carve his name in him, over and over. He would make sure that a dragon was scarred into him, in painful, infected red; that its flames would be burnt with real fire. It would be glorious. But, alas; he was terribly, terribly immortal, and all that effort would be for naught. Before he could say 'look!' it would fade into wisps of U-DO's pink, then into absolutely nothing but the blood left behind. Such a shame…
"You're so twisted!" the strained shout broke him from his thoughts. "Don't you ever do that again!" ah, bittersweet memories. Bitter from the salty tears, sweet from the caring embrace.
"Oh? Does it upset you?" the white-headed variant chuckled lightly.
"It's—don't mutilate yourself!" the boy half-shouted, honestly unsure how to deal with this. It was just like when they were little, and—and…
"Such a weak stomach, mon roux… how fitting for—"
"None of your damn analogies! Shut up! This isn't funny! I don't—I don't like seeing you hurt or hurting yourself or whatever! If you want to make me happy, you sadistic bastard, then don't do it!" insanity just stared at him, a wisp of U-DO trailing behind his recently regenerated eye. Right. He needed to approach this gently. "Why did you do that?"
"Why, Rubedo: you told me to stop staring, so I removed my ability to," it was simply stated, as if a fact. Like if you told a child to stop talking and duct-taped their mouths.
"Why didn't you just stop, instead of forcing yourself not to?" always the reasonable one.
"I cannot take my eyes off your sublime form, mon beau bête," the younger cooed, reaching a hand out to pet those crimson locks. Though, naturally, claws quickly swat him away, teeth baring with threats.
"What the hell is your problem? No, sorry, excuse me, what the hell isn't your problem? Ugh. Are you going to let me go talk to chaos, now? I'm damn hungry, and he'll give me some food. Us, I guess—anything you hate?"
"I will take anything you offer me, mon petit roux," the redhead rolled his eyes before leaving, rudely and purposefully turning out the lights as he left.
He needed to tell someone. In case he went missing, or died, or—or something. Gaignun seemed like the perfect choice, but he'd never allow this! He knew how obsessed Albedo was; he knew the albino would do anything to make the redhead his own. Anything. That worried them both, but to Rubedo, it was somewhat reassuring; any and everyone else was on Albedo's "to kill" list. But, he wasn't; he would kill the world to keep him safe. It wasn't a very happy thought, but it did make him feel a bit more… immortal when he was with him. The fear of death lessened. It was a good feeling, and just reminded him how little he understood his younger brother. You could always make new friends, right? Though, Sakura's death still hurt and…
Well, point was, Albedo wouldn't kill him—not on purpose, and he was too skilled to do so on accident. But, maul him? Permanently disable him? Rip his arms off? Those were all strong possibilities. He would live to be his brother's plaything, no more; a doll like those obsolete Realians that followed him around. But, his life would be empty and neverending; his brother wouldn't allow him a merciful death, any death. He'd have to kill him first, before himself… and that's exactly what he would want. Wants.
The more he thought, the more a quick link to Gaignun seemed like a good idea. He could tell him, throw around his position as link master, and ignore his youngest sibling's pleas. …but, for some reason, a link was hard to make. Link something was blocking him. A few more rather forceful pushes and he broke through. It didn't really… feel like Gaignun though. Maybe he was just tired? Maybe Albedo's proximity was messing it up?
"G… gaignun?"
"I'm kind of busy right now. Can we talk later?" this rudeness he… basically never got from him. It didn't matter how busy either were, they took the time out to talk for a few minutes. But, it was Gaignun. The wavelength matched up, even if it was erratic. Was he fighting with someone? He seemed a bit nervous and…
"I'm fine, Jr. …just t-tired. Is it urgent? Is everything okay?" Hell yes it was urgent, hell no everything wasn't 'okay'! He had a psychopath in his room! …but, if he was so stressed, there had to be something wrong, and he didn't want to add any more stress…
"Nah, everything's cool. Just haven't heard from you in a while… we handled the space-time anomaly shit pretty well. Albedo appeared, but escaped. As always." How he hated lying. And expected to get caught, but that was half the point. Then his brother would know, but not be too worried. Right?
"Ah, I'm glad you're alright… as I said, I'm really… busy…"
"Yeah, sure thing! You kick that paper's ass!" there was no wave of amusement, no laugh, no vague irritation. The link was just cut, cleanly, and the redhead was left staring at a wall in confusion. There was hardly any emotion over the link, in fact; as if the baby variant was trying to hide what he was feeling. Maybe he already knew about Albedo, and it was bothering him? Well, whatever, if he already knew, then it was for the best. Besides, next time he saw Gaignun, he could check on him personally.
Sometimes he questioned whether the Elsa's meals should even be called "food." He might accept "gruel," but "food" was definitely pushing it. One would think, after all these years, someone on the Elsa would be a good cook—or, even, maybe they'd hire one! They were already in pretty deep debt already, though. …they only had chaos on board to save their asses upon being attacked. Otherwise, they would just have a captain, navigator, and pilot; anymore wasn't needed. Of course, even if all Gnosis disappeared, the Elsa crew couldn't part with any of its members, especially not the conflict-resolvent glue that chaos had become.
The boy decided to pass on any of the meals, and get some prepackaged snacks instead. Having very limited food choices at the Institute, he had no idea what Albedo liked; everything they had was high-nutrition, dense, healthy shit, topped with protein shakes or water. Ick. The snacks were in the back room, where only official crew members were supposed to go… but, the variant gathered they were in enough debt that every scrap was off his company's dime. No guilt. He grabbed some fruit—two apples, a bunch of grapes, but refused to grab the peach or cherries; he knew enough about language and Albedo to know that his delightful little brother would make plenty of jokes about it. Passed on the bananas and kiwis as well, no wanting any sexual jokes after his lips had so recently been molested. So, apple and grapes. Safe, right? He looked through his mind and the only issue he could find was their color. But, between his friends and siblings, they covered just about every color of the rainbow, so that wasn't avoidable. Grabbing some crackers and digging to find the cheese, he returned with his small array for lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever.
On his way back, he was happy to have found chaos, and probably would have hugged him for being a non-Albedo human… if not for his hands being full.
"You look rather weighed down there…" that melancholic smile was quickly set on his lips, and the boy glared a bit. If Albedo was sane, would he be like this? Quiet, introverted… less muscular? There was only about a head difference in height, and he couldn't help but think that if he didn't break the link, maybe Albedo would be more like chaos. Maybe they could hang out, just be brothers, friends. And if he hadn't broke the link, they wouldn't have been separated, and Westermarck Effect would have properly occurred, and that damn albino wouldn't have…
"Jr.?" the seraph was getting a bit worried by the silence.
"Huh? Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about how I brought a ton of stuff for me and Albedo to eat. I don't even know if he does eat anymore…" the redhead frowned, shifting his weight.
"He may be immortal, but he would still need calories in order to function…" Oh, logic. Why'd he have to make so much damn sense?
"You should come and eat with us, just in case," the angel would really rather not get involved in a brotherly feud. Even if Albedo was right about something, if he took his side instead of Jr.'s in anything, Jr. would hold a grudge. But, Albedo holding a grudge may involve quite a bit of blood; he'd rather avoid the latter. But, there wasn't really a polite way to refuse.
"I'm not all that hungry, Jr…"
"Then come watch us eat! That'll make you hungry! Have you even ate yet?" it was only one in the afternoon, so he hadn't had lunch yet...
"Well, no…" and the next thing he knew, he had a box of crackers and a block of cheese in his hands, Jr. grabbing him with his free hand and half-dragging him back to the women's quarters. This wasn't going to be fun in the least…
The link master quickly regretted turning off the lights the moment the automatic door opened. He figured, surely, Albedo would turn them back on… but he didn't. He let go of chaos and tried to flip on the light switch to no avail—it wouldn't come on, and after quite a few flips back and forth, the fizzle of a light dying was heard. They were supposed to last for multiple lifetimes—he'd overseen the Elsa construction—but, that seemed to be a lie. A certain company was in for a Jr.-sized rage. Light chuckling answered the question of who had most likely caused the premature power outage.
"You brought a friend, eh, Rubedo?" his tone was disgusted—and for good reason. He didn't want that angel here. That messed up most his plans for the next hour. He was going to start by taking all the food from Rubedo, then eating it slowly until the beautiful little variant went to object for being sexual or something along those lines. Then, he was going to shove the smallest piece of food down his throat until he choked and coughed, begged for relief, then he'd save him, and begin to choke him himself. It was a perfect plan. But, now, this relic was going to save him if he tried to do that. How troublesome.
"He helped me drag you outta the space-time anomaly!" oh, right, he'd almost forgotten about his dragon's frail upper bottom strength.
"Hmph. So, he's partly to blame for me being alive and well?" The redhead almost told him he better be thankful before catching that bitter, bitter tone. Why was he so bent on death? He was alive, now! Rubedo was here, now! Isn't that all he wanted? To be with him? He finally found the other, a living nightlight, with bits of U-DO wisps trailing this way and that.
"Shut up and eat your damn food," the redhead threw an apple as hard as he could, hitting the younger variant square in the stomach. There was a loud grunt that indicated he managed to hit him, but it was followed by a laugh… which also meant he managed to hit him.
"Mmm, so violent. Your red, bleeding heart is as hard as an apple… but it's been bruised by loss and infected by the worms of peace, making it soft and vulnerable…" there was a loud crunch of the perfectly grown apple, juices sliding down his forearm and off his elbow.
"Goddamnit, Albedo! If you didn't like apples, then just tell me! I bet chaos would have loved one. Now he won't get any!" the seraph couldn't help but notice the second apple that the variant had for himself, a small chuckle at his childish selfishness.
"Oh? Sorry to have deceived you, I adore apples," licked from his elbow to wrist before slurping up some of the crushed fruit. Continued devouring it with slurps and laps, as his brother stood in frozen awe, a blush set on his face. "Hm? Something the matter?"
"N-no…! I just think you're being gross, eating like that. I mean, really! I figured you would have better manners, being all suave and shit," a small shrug, reaching his sticky but visibly bare hand out to the other. The boy flinched at the movement, taking a step closer to chaos, closer to protection.
"Hmph! I'm leaving," the white-headed variant rather suddenly announced, standing up to his full height, towering over both of the others.
"Wait! Albedo…" the boy was shocked at the tinge of desperation in his own voice, quickly covering it up with a scowl. "Like hell you're leaving! I told you, I'm taking you to a mental institution, to get you some damn help!"
"And, 'like hell' I'm doing that. I don't have any curable problem, Rubedo. My problem ends with one of our deaths," one of…? Was the boy not as safe as he thought?
"What do you mean one of our deaths?"
"My main two problems is that I'm living and that you eventually won't be, Rubedo" no sweet talking, no smooth voice, just cold, hard facts. "See you around, mon beau bête. It's been fun playing house with you, even if for a short while," a small laugh as he stood, an anomaly appearing beside him.
The redhead suddenly realized the other was leaving, to set up another elaborate plan; the next time he saw him, it was going to be to fight. The next time he saw him, he might actually kill him. The next time he saw him… might never come. "Albedo…!" the rage in the yell far covered up any traces of desperation, but his target was gone. The red flames of his power began to bubble under the surface, snarling at the remnants of U-DO, growling at the lack of target; sighing when a gloved hand was placed on his shoulder gently, jerking away when his name was called, and lying down when his occasional savior frowned.
-End of Chapter 3-
