avatar_Kang Taebin

That bad type

Started by Kang Taebin, Aug 15, 2019, 07:25 AM

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"Right. The person we're meeting..." Alva took his last look (for the night) at Rae and left with Susumu, convincing himself that he was merely imagining the scent of magic lingering in the air. He was tired, he told himself. It had been a long, trying day and he and Rae were so emotional at the start of it that they had both expended all of their energy. While Rae got to rest, Alva was alert and watchful, and then of course the ordeal with Josh also spooked him...

"I can't wait to meet him," he said to Susumu in the elevator that took them down to the ground floor, looking up at him with barely concealed hope. It had been so long since Alva felt normal. These days he didn't much feel like himself, despite what he told everyone else. Alva lowered his gaze to his lap and was quiet for a long moment. The elevator doors opened and he was greeted by the sight of the crowded reception area.

Outside, he breathed in deeply and let the cool air sink down into his lungs. "Who is this person, Susu?" It was safer to ask questions out here, where there were fewer people to eavesdrop. Alva began to follow Susumu to his car, as the wheels of his chair crunched on a few damp pebbles. "Do you think he'll be able to take this mark off? Yoojin said it had something to do with the ancients last time, remember? Does he know one of them or...?"

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"He's..." Susumu didn't know quite how to explain who his contact was. Alva knew so little about the ancients that Susumu could fib about it. But... At the same time, his alarms were going off. Yoojin. Of course, Yoojin was a witch and her parents might know something. And if what she said to Alva didn't align with what Susumu said, Alva would end up suspicious. It was best to leave that information as loose but as truthful as possible.

"He's close to the ancients," Susumu finally said. "You could say it's his life's work. And if anybody can do it... or has a way to do it, it would be him, I believe."

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"Ah..." In other words, Susumu probably didn't know him that well. Alva was still grateful that Susumu could get them a meeting with the man, though; even that much seemed difficult to arrange. And it took so long as well. Doubtlessly someone with a connection like that must be busy. It wasn't like Susumu was stalling or anything!

"I guess we'll know when we get there!" he said slightly more brightly, as they got into the car (and loaded Alva's folded wheelchair up into the back). He felt better now and he was beginning to get quite excited about meeting this mysterious man connected to the Ancients. Alva wondered what kind of person he was; how did he even get to his position? Was it by chance, or did he seek them out and gain their favor?

As they drove, Alva began to recognize landmarks and streets. "Hey, isn't this--" he craned his neck to look at the next sign. "This is the way to the old library, isn't it?" The last time they went, it was when people began to switch bodies and there had been a giant there. Alva looked at Susumu with some reservations. "We're not going to see the giant again, are we?"

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"...Ah."

Susumu let out a soft laugh. Clever Alva. Of course he remembered their last trip to the old library, although he didn't realize the full significance of the area. It was a strong magical area and one that held powerful people within. And it was where powerful people convened, although the ignorant townsfolk weren't aware of that. Not a lot of people liked to visit the old library, preferring instead to visit the newer one down by the schools. This one gave off a sense of foreboding, even to those who couldn't sense magic. Or... identify that it was magic they were sensing.

"Not... exactly." He glanced over at Alva. "It's likely that he'll be there but he's not the one we're going to see. You haven't met Yang yet, have you?"

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"Yang? No, I don't think so." Alva tried to recall if he knew anyone named Yang but he couldn't think of anyone that came immediately to mind. Besides, if someone in his life knew that kind of powerful being, he ought to have sensed it at the very least! "I don't go to the old library very much. They... Have too many stairs," he laughed softly, recalling the interior of the place. It was an older building, not made to accommodate those with physical disabilities. The new library across town was infinitely easier to get into.

He looked outside again, through the misty rain, and spotted the old building. "There it is Susu!" Alva gestured excitedly, as though Susumu couldn't see it or something. Now he was really nervous—extra nervous. He was trying not to build up too much hope but... oh... it was impossible not to feel at least a little optimistic about the outcome of the meeting! There had been virtually no leads thus far, and then suddenly Susumu found someone who knew the Ancients and knew about them! It was like a miracle, really.

"Is there anything I should... or shouldn't do? Or should I let you do all the talking?" Alva didn't want to offend anyone in his ignorance; he had far less experience with people of this stature. As he waited for Susumu to unfold his chair so that he could slip into it, he looked longingly at the old building and sighed. Oh... what he wouldn't give to be rid of this mark already!

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"Oh, right."

The old library was created long before disabled accessible buildings were a thing. They hadn't succumbed to requests to fix it, either. Older citizens of the town insisted on keeping things as close as they could be to the past. Really, it was quite ridiculous but Susumu supposed a place like Hazleton wasn't bothered about keeping up with modern times.

"He's easily irritated," Susumu told him. "So try not to ask too many questions. He doesn't like having to explain himself."

Susumu smiled encouragingly at Alva and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "It'll be all right, I promise."

He didn't want to get into the deep roots of the truth; that he couldn't make such a promise. But... it was true that he wanted Alva to remain safe and sound, by his side. Part of him was slightly worried about bringing Alva to Yang at all. There were things... Well, it didn't matter. Susumu had to take the plunge this time. If he didn't, Alva would only have more questions and besides which, it did get him away from Reagan.

"Let's go, love," he said, helping Alva out of the vehicle and towards the tall, dark old building. Susumu made sure to keep a hand on Alva at all times as they entered the musty old building. Checking the time on his watch, Susumu cleared his throat as he approached the front desk.

"Yang," he said quietly.

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#96
"Right! Not too many questions!" was what Alva said brightly--overly chipper in his nervousness--but... but he was full of questions! All he had were questions! What could he do to not annoy the man--Yang--but also get all the answers he needed?! Alva supposed that he would have to distill his overabundance of questions down to a few necessary ones...

He followed Susumu into the building, though not after having a little trouble with the darned steps. Then they were inside and Alva was surprised to see that not only was the library open at such a late hour, but that there was a lone librarian manning the desk. The man gave them an inquisitive look as they approached, then nodded very slightly in acknowledgement.

"Staff elevator. Basement room 2C." He paused, looking at Alva--specifically, directly at Alva's arm. Some strange expression crossed his face for a moment but then he schooled his expression back to impassivity.

Alva looked over his shoulder at the librarian as they took their leave. He wanted to ask who that was, if they were here to guard the library but--not too many questions! Alva's inquisitive nature had to be curbed. He said nothing until they were in the elevator and heading down. "I think he knew about the mark." Alva frowned up at Susumu. "He was looking right at it." The mark was even obscured by Alva's jacket and he still stared at it as though he could see it.

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"What?" Susumu hadn't caught the look that Alva had been given but once Alva alerted him to it, Susumu turned narrowed eyes back toward the librarian, unhappy that he was piquing Alva's suspicions. Gently, Susumu stroked the back of Alva's head, down his neck and his shoulder.

Doubtful, he wanted to say, if only to alleviate Alva's discomfort. However, Alva had already proven much smarter than Susumu originally took him for. In some ways, it was a welcome and pleasant surprise. In some ways, it made some things that much more troublesome. Instead, Susumu said quietly, "The magic is quite powerful, Alva. I'm sure he sensed it, that's all."

He didn't want to admit that the man behind the counter knew more about that magic than Alva did. If Susumu was careful, Alva would remain ignorant to the uglier side of his predicament. Susumu didn't want to harm him, after all. He just wanted a partner worthy of himself, a partner that was strong and resilient inside, even if at first glance, he seemed so delicate and broken. For a moment, Susumu felt a twinge of guilt. Was this really the best way to go about getting what he wanted? He regarded Alva as they took the elevator, doing his best not to be too obvious about it.

Alva was one of the most selfless and giving people that Susumu had ever met and it warmed a corner of his dark, cold heart. When he was around him, Susumu almost felt like he was years and years back, when he was still innocent, a child. But that hadn't lasted long. In that, he felt he and Alva were kindred spirits. They both had to grow up so fast.

"Don't worry about it," Susumu said in a soft, velvety tone. "If this goes well, you won't have that to fret about any longer."

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"Oh... oh right. That makes sense." Alva leaned into Susumu's caresses, reassured by his effortless reply. Susumu seemed to have just the right answer for everything! It didn't trigger any alarms that he knew it all; for some reason Alva expected him to. Maybe he wasn't looking too far past the easy air of confidence, when he looked up to Susumu so much for what he did in protecting the supernatural community. There was a quality of hero-worship in the way that Alva viewed him and that made it easy to gloss over such small details.

"Thanks Susu. You always know just what to say to make me feel better." He smiled as he sat back, at more ease in light of Susumu's reassurance, only to straighten as the elevator doors clanked open. They were confronted again by the same long, dimly lit hallway that they saw last time. Only now Alva wasn't prancing around in Ryland's body, he was in his own wheelchair-bound one. Susumu was still Susumu, though. That offered him a modicum of reassurance.

Alva held his breath as they approached the door the librarian indicated, and he could feel his palms growing sweatier and sweatier the closer they got. He scrubbed them on his pant legs as they finally stopped before it but—

"That is NOT how this works, Kor'ulach, and you know it! I told you not to interfere!" A man's irate voice could clearly be heard through the door. There was a pause, as if someone was responding, and then the same man gave vent to a loud noise of exasperation. "I can't. It's already been done—he is seeded and no one can remove the—"

Suddenly he stopped speaking and before Alva knew what was happening, the door flew open and a tall man stood glaring at them. "What do you—oh. Susumu." Behind him, Alva saw the long banded tail of what looked like a cat whisking out of sight. The man moved slightly over to obscure his vision. He, too, began to stare at the mark on Alva's arm, quite intensely. "...is this... He's the One? With you?" The man's head snapped up to look at Susumu as though only then noticing him. "Come inside. Come in."

Meekly Alva entered. He felt it now, a magic so ancient that it stifled him. It was everywhere, all around him, pressing against him like a giant hand. He was so overwhelmed that he failed to comprehend what the man said next. It took him a moment just to be able to feel like he could breathe again.

"Why are you here? It's not time yet."

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"Of course," he said with a smile. He always knew what to say to soothe Alva's frayed nerves. And Alva, poor thing, had such bad luck that his nerves always seemed to be frayed. It wasn't even all due to anything Susumu did; the world just seemed to have it out for Alva. How he remained so strong despite that was a puzzle in itself but... Susumu continued to smile, gently caressing Alva's hair, the side of his face.

He stopped, however, at the doorway, listening. Interesting. He didn't know the context, but it sounded... interesting. Cocking his head to the side, Susumu intended to keep listening but it appeared they had been noticed. A moment later, the slew of words were cut off and the door suddenly opened to reveal and not very pleased looking guardian. Susumu's smile became a mask, his expression completely without emotion. There could be no shushing or telling the dimwit to keep his mouth shut. The words had already come out. If anything more was revealed, Susumu might just have to revert back to washing away certain memories, which was becoming such a tiresome business.

"I'm here," Susumu said, "to allay my lover's fears."

He gave the other man a knowing Look.

"We were hoping you could help us remove this curse mark."

Another Look.

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What the hell was with the Looks? Yang frowned at Susumu, not in the mood to play games. Things were bad enough with... outside interference, without Susumu showing up far too early with his-- "Lover?"

That was. Unexpected. Yang didn't know what to make of that, and for a moment the naked surprise showed on his face. Then he schooled his expression, though the frown persisted. This was probably not a good thing, taking the bearer of the seed as his lover. Didn't Susumu know the risks? He had to at least know how things would end up once the Master came to reclaim the pieces of his soul...

The man in the wheelchair was looking up at him now, with hopeful eyes. Yang could maybe see how Susumu might have made the mistake of falling for him. There was something about him, about the shine in his eyes and the wistful twist of his lips... Sighing, Yang shook his head. "The mark cannot be removed." Which Susumu must have already known, so why the hell did he have to drag his lover all the way down here? Just to get a second opinion? How bothersome!

He turned away to avoid the stark disappointment that replaced the hope. "You two need to get out of here. I'm sorry... there's nothing I can do."

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"What?"

Alva's brain seemed to have stalled. He stared at the man who turned away from them, trying to process the cold words. The mark couldn't be removed? The mark... couldn't be removed. But Susumu said that he might know something about it and Alva had been building on that small glimmer of hope for so long. He didn't want to admit it, but a large part of him thought that Yang might be able to remove it, or know how to do it.

And now... he was saying that it was impossible.

There were no words to describe Alva's feelings in the moment. He felt a band around his chest, crushing him, squeezing around his heart. It was hard to breathe, to think, to feel anything other than the absolute and total disappointment of his high hopes falling and crashing and burning. Alva's head dropped. He swallowed hard past the lump gathering his his throat and blinked hard.

"Isn't there... anything? Anything you can tell me about the mark?" He asked desperately, not knowing how he managed to get the words out past the obstruction in his throat. Yang was trying to drive them away but Alva couldn't leave without some answers! It took so long to just get here, only to be met with a blank wall? He leaned forward and pleadingly touched the side of Yang's arm, causing him to glance back. And Alva swore he saw something in Yang's eyes—sympathy, an apology, maybe. He stared up with the stark desperation plain as day on his face. "Please?"

"...I'm sorry." Yang pulled his arm away. "The mark, it's... nothing that you can remove on your own."

"But—are you saying that I'm stuck with it?!" Alva's hand flew to his arm, where the mark was throbbing, hidden under his sleeve. "Forever? Forever?"

"No. Not forever. But I don't know when he will remove it—" Yang cut himself off abruptly as though realizing that he had said too much.

"He? You mean... the ancients?"

"You need to leave." Yang turned back to them and his expression was hard again, nearly an unreadable mask. The sympathy that shone so briefly in his eyes was gone and there was a tone of finality in his voice. "Do not come back. The answers you seek can't be found here."

Slowly, Alva shook his head. He took in a breath but it sounded ragged in his own ears. "I..." He wanted to insist on answers. He wanted to shout—scream—that this was his life! This was his life on the line, and he mattered! Even if to an ancient or to this man Yang he might not, he... he mattered to himself, to the people who loved him like Ryland and Susumu and Yoojin and... even to Rae. There were people whose lives were irreparably altered by this, the least of which was Alva's own! How could Yang turn him away now, without making any attempts to help? Alva wanted to be angry, indignant, offended, but all that there was was disappointment.

He didn't even look at Susumu as he turned his chair silently towards the door, easing the unwieldy contraption out of the room. He didn't know what to say, what to think, and he didn't think that he could hold in the myriad emotions flashing through him if he looked up at Susumu. Alva didn't want to see the disappointment on his face or the pity in his eyes.

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Fuck. He should have communicated better. He should have known better than to try and spring something like this on an idiot that took things far too literally. That was the problem with these non-human entities. They didn't understand a damned thing when it came to a nuanced expression. All he had to do was lie but no, he was sitting there, spouting out the truth to somebody that couldn't handle hearing it right now. Susumu's expression soured altogether as he stared at Yang in hatred and irritation.

Of course, he knew that Yang nor his compatriots could do anything. But the point to this visit was to stir the false hope within Alva. Not to utterly crush his spirit.

Quickly, he schooled his expression into something more sympathetic when he turned back to Alva. But Alva wasn't looking at him. He was leaving the room, completely dejected. Once he was out of the room, Susumu turned to Yang with a venomous look in his eyes, his mouth a straight, bitter line.

"All you had to do was lie, you simpleton."

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Yang's expression was as sour as Susumu's at being called a simpleton, which he was adamantly NOT. As the door closed behind the unfortunate, disappointed man in the wheelchair, Susumu seemed to adopt an entirely different personality altogether. One would hardly believe that this was the same man who came in at the side of his so-called lover. Crossing his arms and completely unrepentant, Yang scoffed.

"It is not my job to lie for you," he said loftily, raising his head slightly. "You're not even supposed to be here! I refuse to mop up after your messes. Any of you." The guardians who were placed at the sides of the creatures carrying the master's soul shards were... difficult. Pests, really. Yang wished that there weren't so many of them to have to deal with, each with their own set of issues. Pah. Humans. They were more trouble than they were worth, really.

"At any rate, you'd better leave before--" He trailed off. The air grew cold around them and Yang's head snapped up at the sound of a clatter outside. He heard, faintly, the man in the wheelchair calling for Susumu.

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Click

The door latched behind him as he eased his chair out of the doorway and out into the hall outside. Susumu didn't follow him, but Alva was too despondent to really notice. Vaguely he heard voices from inside, muffled by the closed door, and assumed that the two men left in the room were discussing something private--something that Alva wasn't privy to.

It didn't matter anyway, what they discussed. Alva supposed that Susumu was trying to get more information on his behalf, since Yang wasn't forthcoming with what he knew. All he could say, repeatedly, was that the mark wasn't coming off. No one could help him; only the Ancient who cursed him could un-curse him.

Alva's head dipped low. He brushed the heel of his palm across his eyes, where a wet, warm heat was gathering. Slowly, he bent forward with his face in his hands and gave vent to silent tears. Alva had never felt so much despair, so much grief. He gulped, then let out a ragged gasp of air as a sob tore itself from his throat. Muffling the noise into his hands, his fingers curled inward until the nails scraped against his forehead and temples.

It was so... hopeless. No matter what he did and where he turned, there was always a dead end. There was always something beyond his ability to fix, an obstacle too difficult to scale or a wall too high to climb. Normally Alva, who was cheerful and bright and optimistic, tried to find the silver lining in the storm clouds but this time there was no silver lining. There was no hope.

These were powers beyond even his comprehension and he didn't know how any of them--even Susumu, powerful though he was--could overcome this. Could they fight the Ancients? Persuade them to change their minds? They couldn't even find one! There were so many more questions than answers that riddled his thoughts that he didn't even know where to begin looking for a solution.

After a moment, he lifted his head. Brushed the tears away, because crying when things looked helpless wasn't in Alva. Even with hopelessness settling like a boulder on his chest, he didn't want to whimper. He didn't want anyone to see him being this weak because while his life seemed apparently over... others still had to live. Those around him, the ones he loved, had to carry on and he didn't want to be a burden on them any longer. Ryland, Yoojin, Susumu, all of them had spent weeks trying to help him, putting their own lives on hold.

He brought out his phone and with a heavy heart contacted his cousin Ryland. The only thing that Alva could do now was to keep him safe--keep them all safe. That meant pushing people out of his life that he loved more dearly than himself, cutting them off and keeping them at arms' length so that what happened to him wouldn't happen to them. Alva didn't know why he had been chosen for this curse but he knew that he could never let anyone else go through what he was going through.

The air grew cold around him suddenly. Alva's phone fell from his nerveless fingers as the elevator doors swung open, all the way at the end of the hallway, and a singular figure stepped out. The breath froze in his lungs as their eyes met across the distance separating them and Alva's heart clenched in his chest. The figure raised a hand and completely against his will, Alva stood. The legs that refused to work for him gained strength; the severed nerves in his spine fired as he stepped forward on his own.

"S-Susu!"

Without being told, he knew who the man was at the end of the hall. He knew what the man wanted him to do. Shock evolved into a full-blown panic as Alva's body moved of its own accord, stepping slowly forward. The only part of his body that he had control over was his head, which he turned frantically to the left and right, dumbly trying to express his dread. No... no he didn't want to do this. He couldn't.

Suddenly the door behind him opened. Alva turned his terrified eyes onto Yang, pale-faced as he stood in the doorway. Yang bowed deeply to the man at the end of the hall. "Susu!" Alva cried out again, hearing the panic inside infusing his rising voice. Distraught with fear, Alva could do nothing but continue to move forward, even as his shrill voice filled the once-silent hallway.

"Susu help! Help me! Don't let him take me Susu! Please! Hel--"

With a flick of the wrist, the man silenced him. Alva's eyes dulled; his mouth grew slack. The world turned black. He walked the length of the hallway and came to a stop behind the man. The master. Together they walked into the elevator, whose doors closed on their own without a single button press.

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