luckless | [RYSLIG] IC Inbox

[Atem has more than his share of rabbit holes, too. His heart is a maze, with nothing but traps behind countless doors, hostile and full of fog. He's been hurt, torn into shreds, smashed into pieces, and the seams don't fit quite right anymore when he goes to put himself together.

But Atem is good, incredibly good, at skimming over the surface of his own fears, skipping like a stone over an unfathomable abyss, full of crushing pressure and dark depth and monsters. He can keep moving, keep fighting, and ignore everything that's not the task at hand...

...and, for the moment, all his monsters remain safely in the depths. It's the shallow warm few feet of sunlit sea he and Komaeda are playing in, letting their mutual regard for each other wash over them like warm rain. It's nice...it's so nice to confirm it, beyond a doubt, that they care for each other like this...

Of course! The thought is bright and brave and focused. Now, let's go...we've only got an hour, and it'll be over before we know it.

Atem glances at the clock, noting the time they have to be back by. Then, he walks the body toward the door, reaching for the handle, taking charge with practiced ease.

I've been looking forward to this...]

[A warm and sunlit sea, one that gently washes over the shores. With their feet buried in the sand of this feeling, it's hard to want to even move from the spot they've found themselves glued in in the kitchen. It's a good thing Atem keeps them guided, otherwise Komaeda likely would've just stood there and carried on their conversation... ignorant to the fact that he has roommates that might wander by and give him a weird look about it.

He doesn't really linger in that thought, not when he's so distracted by these shared feelings. It doesn't feel right for him to feel so giddy about being able to do this, now. Atem is helping him as a friend would, and it shouldn't be taken as anything more, but as they step out into that hallway, Komaeda can't help but take back control of their shared hand and idly tug on one of the chains around their neck.

You've been looking forward to this? He asks, like it's a secret to be holding a conversation in his head than aloud. He isn't quite sure what to make of that information. He tugs a bit more on that chain as they make their way to the elevator. Is it really that interesting to possess me...?

[If I didn't know him better, I'd think he was looking for compliments...but that's the thing, isn't it? He really thinks these things. I don't understand it completely, but I'll tell him the truth...

...that the time I get to spend with Nagito is important, he thinks, clearer than the internal monologue a moment ago, and, sharing our hearts like this...what could be more interesting?

I also like that you asked me to help you...I'm happy to be the one to teach you flying. It feels...

He doesn't really have words for the feeling. Just...an impression of mutual trust, of gratitude that Komaeda trusts Atem to lead him through a hard thing that frightens him, and, on top of that...there's a twinge of something a little like possessiveness.

I'm glad you trusted me when you were scared. It means a lot to me. Besides that, I want to be the one to give you something that important and useful. It --

(possessive, reaching, wanting what he can't have, leaving a mark on it anyway, one that can't be stopped or erased, part of him is part of komaeda and no one can undo that)

--never mind, Atem thinks, backpedaling. Don't worry about that, it's not important, he self-corrects, as they duck into the elevator and start to descend.

Oops, he's still running away, a little -- from the greedy feeling he gets from thinking about teaching a skill as leaving a mark on a heart.]

[The inner monologue, not quite meant for sharing, but felt and heard like the a conversation on the other side of a wall, catches Komaeda off guard. It only really solidifies the realization that the vulnerability he had been so nervous about went both ways.

Is Atem nervous too? He wonders, if he concentrates enough, would he be able to differentiate the fluttering anxiety in his chest between them?

As they climb into the elevator—too small and cramped for Komaeda's new height, so he hunkers down—he catches the sight of that glowing symbol on his forehead again, only partially obscured by his hair, in the metallic surface of the elevator doors.

It feels, vague as it is, like looking directly into Atem's eyes. A feeling of power and strength, along with the boyish uncertainty that comes with navigating a love not-quite-there-yet, too. When those infiltrating thoughts in his mind get cut off, he wonders again just how much his perception of Atem had been a persona meant to be a defense.

I have to tell him, too, he thinks to himself, though it's shared regardless. And then, with more intent of thinking directly to the soul sharing his body: I only wanted to ask you for this.

With their entire conversation held within a shared mind, the silence of the elevator around them only makes Komaeda that much more aware of how his heart has slowed to a heavy, comfortable thud. As if this moment were something separate from everything else.

It's not that he doesn't trust others with this fear of his, but...

When I thought of who I wanted to fly the most with, it was only you, Atem-kun.

[Atem only isn't nervous because he trusts himself and trusts his heart. He can avoid sinking too far into darkness, as long as nothing's deliberately trying to pull him down -- as long as nothing hits too close to home.

Both he and Komaeda are working to avoid that.

If he stopped to think about this, if he stopped to remember all the things that he could be worried about Komaeda seeing, hearing....he'd be paralyzed, and he'd give them all up.

So, he won't stop.

He stays in the moment.

And, when Komaeda says only you, all the eyes in their face blink, not quite in sync. That admission makes Atem feel like something's caught fire in his chest, small but flickering, and he places a hand against their breastbone, as though pressure could keep this feeling contained.

Why? he asks, and though the question could sound derisive or dismissive in another tone, "why did you do that" isn't the question he's asking. Was there a reason?

If there is, he wants to know. Why him? What drew Komaeda to him for getting past his fears and learning flight, and not anyone else?]

[He can't tell if the warmth felt in their chest is his or Atem's. Maybe it's both, really—because the way that Atem brings their shared hand to touch over that spot is tender and hopeful in a way that feels painful... but in the best of ways. It's like growing pains, where change is coming, and its good change, so you're looking forward to it.

Why did he want Atem, and only Atem?

Before he can even really answer, he remembers all the ways that the guy has been there for him, even when he didn't have to be. How, when recovering from being childhood friends to strangers, Atem still took the things that Komaeda cared about seriously. And, how, when things got difficult, Atem didn't run away from the conversation with him. When he disappeared for months, trying to keep himself as shut in as possible, dodging the sight of others, or just sleeping for more hours than he was awake, Atem searched for him nonstop.

And when he was carved open on a cold metal slab, when he revived incomplete, when he struggled his way to Lila, because he didn't have anyone else he could be vulnerable like that to, she told Atem to come for him. And he came running.

The reason Komaeda only wanted Atem is because...

You're the one person who has always caught me, when I was falling... Even if I didn't want you to. His thoughts are quiet in his mind, but gentle. Like sharing a secret, sacred feeling, kept locked away in his heart until now. I know that you'll continue to catch me, always. You've never given me a reason to doubt that.

[So...his efforts weren't useless, when it comes to Komaeda.

Atem has been fighting for a long time against a world that wants the opposite thing he does: he wants to protect his friends, while Ryslig wants them afraid and in pain. So many times, he's felt like he's failed...

...but Komaeda doesn't see it that way.

That's what I want, Atem thinks, their heart beating, pounding, under his hand. Because I love--

And the elevator doors open with a bright little chime, making Atem's eyes blink open.

Right...let's go.

Taking hold of the distraction, Atem walks them out of the elevator and into the hall,
needing to duck to get out and hunch as they head for the front doors.

I'll be glad when we're outside...really, I don't like getting taller at all!

He seems to intend to move on, from the thought he'd almost finished in the elevator.]

[Atem... what?

It's a good thing the shade possessing him takes the lead and forces their legs to move, because if it had been dependent on Komaeda, they would've stood stunned in the elevator yet.

Does Atem... love him?

He can feel the way their heart thunders so loud, how it commands his attention, despite Atem continuing their conversation in their head—as if what he had almost said hadn't happened at all.

Maybe he's reading too far into it, though. It's possible that, because Atem was cut off, he was going to say something else entirely. Maybe he loves their friendship, and how far it's come. Maybe he loves spending time together, because they're talking again. Komaeda shares those sentiments, truly. Even if his heart yearns for more, he was being one hundred percent honest when he said he's happy just having the other in his life.

So he doesn't mention it, even if Atem might be privy to the odd mix of emotions running through them. Even if their stomach flutters so hard it feels like they simultaneously might throw up and can't stop the giddy, stupid smile from spreading across their face.

I guess there's advantages to being so short, normally... I bet I'd feel the same way if I suddenly lost height.

His thought is. Suddenly a playful jab. They're playing now, maybe.]

[He feels all that fluttering, the kind of feeling that might well be why they call it being lovesick, and Atem...

...steps away from it, for now. He can't -- shouldn't -- they should be friends. Indulging in romantic feelings he can't deliver on is an unfair tease at best and a betrayal at worst.

(But, that smile...that feels really good. Uncomplicatedly, it makes him happy, to feel it, to share it.)

I never like gaining height! It makes the world feel too small...but I guess it would feel too big for you, if you got shorter.

Yeah, they're playing. He's teasing back.]

[And how easy it is, to fall into their familiar little game. Even Atem's bite back doesn't feel that sharp, what with those sweet could-be sentiments fresh in their mind. What follows it, almost immediately, is a hum that's at once thoughtful and playful.

Right. I don't know how I'd manage living my life being your height, Atem-kun. Maybe along with flying, we could try reaching for the things you usually have a hard time with?

Though his tease is followed by another rush of fluttering, this time it's the thrill of their impromptu little game. What lines draw in the sand are new ones to test, now that there's more trust blooming in their hearts—now that Atem can feel it, in the very core of his being, that Komaeda isn't trying to needle to bring him down. It's like the playful bow of a dog followed by a sneeze, just to make sure the other knows he's just teasing.]

[What things?

There's mental chuckling as they go along -- headed for the hill they'd attempted yesterday. The sun's shining; Atem will have to keep a close eye on the time, so he's not ejected from the body and burnt to a crisp before he can get back inside. But an hour is plenty.

Even if there were things up high that I couldn't reach...your height's no good for that, either. You'd hit your head on top of the door, and forget what you walked in the room for!

(Komaeda might get a tiny little mundane detail, actually, about Atem's life -- six months of daily practice at making only part of himself into mist, while the rest stays solid. It took Atem forever to get it right, and he can't stretch forever, only a few feet...but now, he can turn himself to gray, rolling mist, and materialize his hand around whatever it was he needed on the top shelf of the cabinet, before bringing it down. It's flashy, a little bit like buttering bread with a hunting-knife, but it gets the job done, and is second-nature now.)

Up the hill they hike! At least the air is cool; that does something to offset the heat of the sun on their back and wings as they climb.]

[Komaeda laughs out loud—the sound of it odd, when their conversation has been limited to the inside of their shared skull—but it remains as soft and cheerful as it can be.

Does my memory seem that unreliable, that a little bump could make me forget what I was doing...?

He's been through much worse, though he won't ruin the nice mood before them, by bringing that up. Instead, they both have something to worry about, when it comes to climbing that hill.

For the first time ever, Atem will be able to feel the way Komaeda's body is weaker than the average monster. His stamina seems to run completely out, just halfway through the climb, and his lungs begin to burn in a way that's familiar to the host himself, but maybe not to the borrowing ghost. It isn't helped all that much by the way his head begins to feel dizzy, either.

And yet, if Atem doesn't stop them, by the time they make it to the top, it all seems to even out again. The benefit of being a monster means his recovery time is amazing, even with those moments of weakness. And if Atem doesn't ask about it, Komaeda won't explain either—though he may remember Komaeda mentioning he had been sickly, before.

The breeze feels nice today... He'll say, perhaps changing the subject from what just happened, I think it'll be good flying weather!]

[That's odd...Atem does experience surprise at the way his lungs burn, at the way all his muscles feel weak. That's a feeling he's not had in a very, very long time...

...but Komaeda doesn't seem worried, so though they go a little slower, Atem presses them on.

Yes...it's good that it's not completely still, but the wind isn't too strong, either.

(Are we really talking about the weather?)

Are you ready to go, Nagito? I'll stay in control at first, but when you feel ready...I'll give some of it back.]

[Yes, they're talking about the weather. Komaeda is trying to distract Atem from being concerned about this weak and feeble body.

Which is why, with a smile spreading across their face that is most certainly by the nephil's influence, he raises their arms into the sky and responds:

Yes! I'm ready, and I leave my body in your care... Please treat me well.

Said, as if this were some polite ceremony and not two friends about to endeavor in very precarious flying.]

[Of course! is the feeling Komaeda gets in return: Atem won't let them come to harm through this.

He stands at the top of the hill, truly feeling impossibly tall -- as though it weren't possible to really stretch out, to hit their full height, until they were out here. There's a sense of power and of freedom to it: it's just a hill, but it feels a little like the top of the world, doesn't it?

Atem spreads their broad, strong wings out into the air and gives them an experimental flap, feeling how they move and catch the air, feeling where the resistance is.

Let's go!

And, with only a few bounding steps to pick up speed, Atem sends them down the hill, wings wide --

-- and there's the lift they need, the air becoming something firm under the feathers, something that can be ridden and climbed, something that can be trusted just as much as water can. Another flap lends them height; the ground pulls away from them, the grass becoming smooth, the trees and plants shrinking.

Atem doesn't leave them high, though. With a shift in wing-angle, they swoop downwards until their feet are only two or three meters above the ground, and Atem lets them follow the slope of the hill downward at a glide. It's not as easy to stay up when they're this low and there aren't any big updrafts, but they're a neph, they're magic, they're not entirely bound by the laws of physics already. It's far from impossible.

He pulls off from the glide and looks up towards one of the nearby buildings -- he wants to go land on that roof up there. Will that be all right?

Are you all right? comes the inquiry. Is Komaeda doing okay so far, with this?]

[Komaeda has never been afraid of heights, per se. When they stand at the top of that hill, the feeling of being at the top of the world is mutually exciting. It feels as though, from this one spot, they can see everything—and though he doesn't have the sharpest sight as a nephil, it feels like even small details have crispened into focus.

It's exhilarating and distracting enough that when Atem spreads their wings, when he gives them a good test-flap, Komaeda doesn't feel a rush of anxiety immediately. No, it isn't until Atem gives his signal that they're going that he returns to the moment again, and his attention turns to the path ahead of them.

It takes a considerable amount of strength to simply let go. Atem will feel that moment of resistance when the wind catches beneath their wings, of Komaeda's panic and how it manifests in the immediate want to get down, oh god.

But then, for the first time, he notices how solid the air feels beneath him. In that moment, he forgets they're flying, and imagines himself swimming along the ocean's current once more, allowing it to glide him through the water as they now glide through the air. It feels... comfortable, familiar, despite being so starkly different. Atem will be happy to notice though, that this revelation seems to calm Komaeda from that momentary panic.

By the time they touch back down, Komaeda is drawing desperate breaths into their lungs. Not because he's scared, but because he's so surprised. He never imagined flying could feel like... like that. He swallows, tries to distract himself from his racing pulse as Atem asks if he's okay. He thinks he is, but...

I... I don't know. I don't know how I feel about this, it's still... There's a part of it that's still scary, but you also made it feel... familiar.

He pauses, lifts his arms to wrap around himself in a self-soothing hug, that also serves as a way to touch Atem like this, too.

...Should we try it again?]

[It's soft...when they hold themself, each other, it's soft. Atem feels the air going in and out of their lungs, not out of fear but in wonder, feels their heart race. He wraps a set of wings around their shoulders, too.

It feels so soft to be this close.

But that isn't the only thing he feels. Atem is glad...he's glad this is going well, and not badly. He's glad that the fear didn't build, and build, until they had no choice but to end the lesson early.

I think so. Yes -- let's keep going, Nagito.

Atem fluffs their wings out again, and takes a look down the street.

Gliding went well, so...let me see if I can find an updraft.

He takes off down the street at a run -- careful to spread their wings and flap them into the air before Komaeda runs out of stamina, aware now of how their lungs can burn if they work too hard. Atem builds height as they go down the street, doing his best to conserve energy -- until he finds a gust of wind moving upwards. Moving into it, he lets it carry them up, and up...]

[Let's keep going—it's a thought just as much as it's a feeling, as Atem fluffs their wings and readies them to fly again. There's giddy excitement for something new and unknown, rather than the fear that had gripped him the day before.

The day before, he had Atem with him, but it was different. When he was in the air, soaring, it was by himself. He didn't have anyone to hold him, to carry him through these turbulent feelings. But now, as Atem sprints and catches a current of wind again, as that draft carries them upwards and over the skyline—Komaeda doesn't feel alone.

Right next to his heart, he feels a warmth that could only be from Atem. He can feel that comfort of knowing he'll be caught if he falls, and it gives him the freedom to commit every little sensation, every little adjustment as they soar through the air to memory. Atem is doing the heavy lifting, just so that Komaeda can learn to trust the skies, just as he's learned to trust the water.

Their gaze crosses the cityscape, takes in the sight of buildings, cars and people living their lives. When they look down, there isn't the panic of feeling like they might drop out of the sky. Slowly... all of the tension is easing out of their body and being replaced with an appreciation for how weightless and separate from the world this feels.

Atem-kun! Komaeda's feelings burst through their thoughts without intent, just pure and unadulterated joy— it's so beautiful up here!]

[Beautiful...

It is beautiful.

Not just what they're looking at, but...it is a beautiful feeling, to feel Komaeda feeling like this.

Atem doesn't remember feeling this wonder. He learned to fly alone, at night, in a crisis, so that he could find his friends who were taken by the trees...he was thinking about utility, and danger, and not much else.

This is seeing flight, a first flight, in an entirely different light. Atem feels buoyed up, like his heart is doing the same thing as his body.

It's beautiful through your eyes, he thinks, not adding in conscious words that he thinks this feeling from Komaeda is beautiful, too.

He wants to show Komaeda how to use the wind, but...in a minute. Be in the moment, first. See this through Komaeda's eyes...take joy where he can find it. A feeling like this is a rare treasure. He won't waste it.]

[It's beautiful because I'm sharing it with you! Whether it's his own feelings of wonder, or Atem's tender feelings about experiencing this wonder secondhand, is impossible for Komaeda to differentiate. He doesn't really care to, either.

The city, from their vantage point, looks vast and so small, all at once. The wind feels solid beneath their wings, carrying them effortlessly above and between buildings. The air is cold and exhilarating against their cheeks, already raw and ruddied by the speed they keep gaining. Every little thing just mounts up, bubbles laughter in their lungs and spreads their smile further. It isn't scary, not at all.

And as they continue to soar above Bavan, Komaeda shoulders half of the burden with all off of the muscle memory Atem is instilling in him. He spreads his arms out, catches the wind in their hand and feels it slide through their fingers.

Every sensation, every joyous feeling overwhelming them bleeds together to create a memory that will be burned into Komaeda's heart forever. Even though they share a body, the memory of Atem holding his hand throughout his very first flight, will be something he'll treasure into eternity. And though he knows they'll have to land eventually, just for a little bit longer... He wants to be up here, in a world just for them.]

[They're laughing -- laughing out of the sheer fun of it, without any regard for how wide or silly their grin is.

This might be one of the happiest feelings Atem can remember. There's only been so much room for joy, and most of the happinesses he's been able to snatch have been little, stolen, fleeting, tempered by the suffering happening before or after or during -- or gentle, soft, without the element of exhilaration that comes with flight. This is big, uncomplicated, a feedback loop of joy --

--and, Komaeda is really cute when he's this happy. Atem doesn't have to see his face to know, he doesn't mean Komaeda's face -- he means Komaeda's mind and heart. Komaeda's heart is cute when he's happy.

Atem feels pleased pride when Komaeda takes over halfway, and cedes the space more than willingly. That's it, you've got it, he thinks in an encouraging murmur, feeling a little like he's above Komaeda, hands at his waist, holding him up but mostly there as a precaution, as Komaeda flaps and tilts and spreads his wings in unison with him. They have the same wings, Atem is there to guide and correct if something goes wrong, but if Komaeda likes, he can steer.

Go on. It's Komaeda's body. Atem wants to be shown where Komaeda would like to go.

Atem thinks he can do it. There's nothing coming from him that's even close to doubt: just affection, and faith, and assurance that he'll be here, his soul in Komaeda's wings, to catch any falls as soon as they start.]

[The encouragement is all Komaeda needs, all he ever really wanted from Atem, by asking him to do this. It's the strength he needs to keep their wings flapping, to bend them through the wind as if it were some intricate ballet dance—the clouds their partner, the cityscape their stage.

They pass by a building, and Komaeda can't help but watch their reflection across a dozen mirrored windows—sees Atem in the closed-eye marking on his forehead, and feels his heart flutter with glee. He twists them between buildings, and can't begin to tell where this floating sensation starts and where it ends.

By the time he finds a place for them to land, it's at the top of the tallest building in sight. Komaeda pulls desperate, exhilarated breaths into their lungs, before exhaling another joyful laugh. It feels like magic. Being with Atem like this is pure magic.

How are you feeling, Atem-kun? Komaeda asks, within the space of their own mind. He walks them along the sheer edge of the building's roof, and pulls his wristwatch into view—(wearing it especially to account for their time limit)—to find they still have twenty minutes before time's up.

Do you want to go anywhere together before it's time to stop?]

[How is he feeling?

How does he describe it?

He can't. Atem just lets Komaeda feel how he's feeling, all the joy and pride and pleasure of a gift-giver who's given someone something they love and a teacher watching someone they taught succeed: that, and the exhilaration, the adrenaline and thrill that comes with being high up and above the world, and the cozy comfort of holding someone else's heart next to your own, in a shared body. He gives a little mental shrug -- like that!

And, quieter: I didn't know flying could feel like this, either.

They have twenty minutes...where should they go?

What's beautiful, from the air? What's fun, and won't take more than twenty minutes? Amusement Mile floats across Atem's mind: it's precisely where Adam Usir's family's house was in the other Ryslig, perched on a pretty bit of lake-shore, and....it's sort of where they met.

Do you think we can make it?]

[Amusement Mile is a little far... The thought floats between them, without intent. It's simply Komaeda feeling a momentary flicker of doubt and fear that if they don't make it, will the shade just... Eject out of him? Would that be dangerous, for either of them? The last thing he wants is to endanger Atem.

Komaeda is quiet, contemplative for a moment. A flurry of thoughts pass through their mind, plans half formed and discarded until he resolves himself to just fly as fast as he can. If they work together, then nothing should be impossible, right? That doubt fades, too, as he settles on the most obvious course of action to make Atem happy.

Let's go. We'll have to work together to get there before your possession ends... Komaeda muses to the other, his heart leaning softly against Atem's, and when we do... Let's ride the roller coaster, and share some snacks!

Right—that's the motivation he needs. Komaeda unfurls their wings again, feathers fluffed and ready for the challenge. They can do this. Nothing is impossible, when they're together.]

[Yes! Actually, there's a nephilim power...some of them can move as fast as a blink, as long as no one is looking directly at you.

Want to see if you have it?

There's impish intrerest, excitement. Maybe if they take a route out of the city, or go up high enough no one's looking up...they can get to Amusement Mile with plenty of time.]

[RYSLIG] IC Inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, NAGITO KOMAEDA. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 004.28.777.00 * MrBrightside has joined 004.28.777.00 <MrBrightside> Hello there! This is Komaeda. <MrBrightside>** I'm grateful that you want to talk to me.