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[ He huffs and haphazardly pulls the man up by the arm. Held high above his head, the act brings the man's face nearly nose to nose with his. ] He has a frame worth killing. Had... Has... [ Implying that he will be useful enough to keep him fed for a few weeks. Rohan's coo is bored and frustrated himself. It's like having to wash the floor or mow the lawn. A chore. ] Humans should know better than to look a naga in the eyes. They've lived here long enough.
[ Stating the fact, Rohan opens up his mouth. Fangs unpeel from the roof of it and he bites the juncture of his victim's neck and shoulder again for one more good measure. The ensuing fizzing noise fills the warm, quiet room all the while as his venom begins eating away at the bite again. Now bits and pieces of the surface skin and the veins he nailed before begin to bubble and pop. Mouth pulling away for him to stick a finger in the wound-- ]
He didn't land anything. All I lost were a few teeth through biting him. He didn't stand a chance.
[ A single blink has him staring across the way at Jotaro. He has taken note of the temperature change. He knows the baser temperature at this point and it has quite obviously risen. The question of 'What is it?' hangs there silently even as he rips his eyes away to gouge at the hole in his kill's neck again with his claws. ]
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[It's ugly to watch, and the truth is he doesn't want to. Something else does, but his own will wins out and he turns his face away, watching the floor instead of the horrorshow.]
...
I'll look at your mouth if you want me to. To make sure it's not fucked up from it, or something.
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You can. [ Jotaro is no dentist and it's a little odd to say the least. He lets his new kill slump down back to the floor in front of him to ferment. ] The teeth are growing back fast enough. They're all fucky.
[ Fucky as in when he beckons Jotaro closer and pulls back one corner with his finger, the top and bottom lines where his molars usually would be have become incomplete rows of backward-facing spine-like teeth with gaps where the fresh ones were ripped out. They are set against the black backdrop of his gums and if Jotaro peers close enough, he will notice that his roommate's lips are starting to turn black under his lipstick turned patchy from his biting.
He's burning away the color in his lips, his hair is starting to get too long. He's a mess. Trying his best to hide the former under makeup and putting up with the latter by less frequent wearing of his stupid signature headband is all he can really do. ]
I don't know what I would have done if there had been more than one. We don't need to look at the what-if's, Jotaro. [ He stops prying open his mouth for that much to say. ]
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[It's just easier to take careful hold of Rohan's head for his look, one hand underneath his chin to help keep it still, the other wavering like he wants to help tug back his lip himself but well aware that he probably will get a finger bitten off in the attempt if he takes the liberty of trying.
He's really not looking so good lately. And the rest of it adds up into an ugly picture — the terse words, the extra crabbiness, the little imperfections he's been trying to hide. He's seen that habit before, the bustling around and carrying on and never letting on. The last time it ended in a collapse and a time limit that resulted in the deaths of three of his friends.
He finds he doesn't know what to do with that. It's a feeling he doesn't like — like how the gargoyle doesn't like seeing meat on the floor and not having it in its claws, maybe — but that doesn't mean he knows what to do with it.]
How long has it been hurting?
[He doesn't bother to question whether or not it has. If he's wrong, Rohan will bite his head off, and if he's right, he'll...still bite his head off, probably, but at least they won't be fucking around with stupid lead-in questions when he can get right to the point with a better one.]
Since before just now, just this guy. I can tell that much.
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They have been like this for a little over a week. At this point, I am hard-pressed to say that I am in any way surprised by it. [ Again, he opens his mouth to allow the gargoyle a better look. His fangs still hang from the roof threateningly though Jotaro has nothing to be worried about. This time.
That last bit... ]
Just this guy? What do you mean?
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[He guides Rohan to tilt his chin a little higher, giving him a better angle on the roof of his mouth as he frowns at the sight before his eyes. A second or two later, he moves his thumb and smudges off part of Rohan's lipstick, intent on having a better look.]
I mean you don't look that great. Moreso than usual. Or maybe just moreso than you're trying to let on.
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I'm fine. [ He insists. ] I got messed up on the first round of fog goofiness, remember? The Fog Lady wasn't going to let me off that easily. She's a bitch.
[ What's happening to his lips is the same thing that happened to the inside of his mouth. He's burned them up enough by now that they are just healing with the color of his venom like a dye. He can pull off a black lip. There's no reason to complain. ]
She is making sure it is going to be as agonizing as possible in little, tiny ways. It's a game of whether I can keep up with it or not. [ A beat... ] There is no point in fussing.
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[He hesitates, then shakes his head a little too hard and looks away, carefully letting go of Rohan's head and mouth. He looks as though he might want to back away a few steps, too, but he refrains from that for the moment, at least.]
...I guess if that's how you want to look at it. A game of keeping up with it. I don't...
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You don't, what?
[ Again: No letting it slide. ]
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[That's a half-lie. He does, sort of, but whether or not he can fit it into words is another question entirely, and the frustration is evident on his face, on the twitch of his folded-back wings.]
You're not fine. I'm not fine. But we keep acting like it's fine. How long are we going to keep it up before one of us cracks?
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Have it your way. [ The tip of his tail is unknowingly slipping around the dead man's ankle while he speaks. ] I'm not fine. You can already see I'm not fine. I haven't been fine.
Look at this, Jotaro. [ His free hand motions around the room. ] We are sitting in an apartment in the middle of the night over a man I killed because he decided it would be a fun idea to jump me. I'm ignoring how I'm literally falling apart from the inside out and you are ignoring something that is happening on your end.
I'm in a perpetual state of being hungry, cold, or tired. I have done my damnedest to transcend the needs I had before I transformed. Successful or not in those ways, there is no stopping the rest of it. [ The ensuing POP noise that strikes the air is from that poor guy's ankle snapping. Is this Snakebutt or Rohan being frustrated? Either way he still holds fast to Jotaro's wrist. ]
I would say we are doing a complicated dance around a large issue but I don't have legs to dance with. Since I can't dance, we're going to talk about it. [ He hisses harshly and with a pent-up burst. ] What is wrong?
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[He looks down at his wrist, like he's realizing that Rohan's holding onto him for the first time, and kind of blinks as suddenly his attention starts to drift from that to Rohan to Snakebutt to the dead man.
His wings twitch and flutter again, an anxious little wriggle.]
You're in a perpetual state of being hungry, cold, or tired. You're literally falling apart from the inside out.
[He looks down at himself, motions to the scales and the wings and the talons vaguely.]
This doesn't bother me. I don't care what happens to me. I wasn't ready for Star Platinum, either, but I didn't get a choice about him. I didn't get a choice about this, and that's fine.
...But I can't fix you. I have to watch this happen to you and I can't fix you. I can't — do anything, I can't make it easier, I can't make it stop hurting, I can't —
I'm useless, that's what's bothering me. You're fucked up and I'm not making it better. That's what's bothering me. If I can't even do that, then what good is it, anyway?!
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I'm not asking you to make it stop. I know for a fact that you can't. You don't need to fix me. [ It's Josuke's job to fix people. His grip loosens a tad. ]
I'm not saying that I give a shit about a lot of people, places, or things but I know that you have helped me and I have helped you. Remember when you said that you would be screwed without me? I-- [ This is all coming off as very candid and personal, treading into territory Rohan isn't used to. It's stilted and he's taking shots in the dark with bluntness. ]
I will survive. You have done everything right. Try to--... I don't know. [ He takes a deep breath, playing with his phrasing. ]
Understand that.
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The reassurance, in and of itself, doesn't do much. Words don't. He can tell himself words as much as he wants, or people can tell them to him, and in the end they'll still only be words.
It's the other component of the exchange, though, that does pierce through. That it's altogether too easy for him to mistake general bitterness for targeted frustration — that lately his impulse seems always to assume that if something is wrong and he hasn't fixed it, then that makes it his fault if for no other reason than from the inaction. It's hard to set those thoughts aside at all, and more and more he's growing to discover that it's not something he's really capable of doing all on his own.
You have done everything right.
It never feels like that.
But believing Rohan is easier than convincing himself, and so after a while he just nods slightly, and wonders if his body language shows how grateful he is for these few and far between moments when he almost feels like he's connected with someone on a level that he usually can't — these small ports of respite in the tempest that is his loneliness.]
Okay.
[He should say more, probably, but he doesn't know what to say. He should feel more than he does about the dead man laid out between them, but if he does then this fleeting feeling of relief might vanish, and he's not willing to surrender it just yet.]
You don't...have to transcend. Around me. If you don't want. If you still want to then do what you want but. ...When you're not fine, if you say something...
I'm saying don't just "survive". I guess. It feels like that's all I do, is just "survive". And it sucks. I don't want you to feel like that all the time, like I do.
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I'm fine-- [ That's what he doesn't want to hear. Rohan corrects himself through shaking his head. ] Don't just "survive" when you are living here. Going outside where you aren't given the choice is different. I am trying to say that you don't have to do that around me, but if you insist on it I can't stop you or tell you what to do one way or another.
[ If Rohan has ever in his entire life sounded sincere, it's right then. Another uncomfortable feeling he isn't totally sold on yet. ]
I think we're going to be okay. I think. That's all I want.
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[He looks at Rohan's hand — or more correctly, looks at Rohan looking at his own hand. It occurs to him belatedly that he might be overheating again, and reaches absently to try to gauge it — but it's hard to tell, when he's the one giving off the heat and the one trying to perceive it at the same time.]
...So. You're gonna eat this guy...?
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[ Rohan would briefly find some semblance of a smile that won't last too long. He's not thrilled with the unpleasant feeling but he will get over it. It drops to rest on the top coil of his 'lap'. ]
Yes. I think he's done cooking. [ The other hand reeeeaches down to try pulling the corpse up by the arm again. It promptly gives way with a wet sound and the flesh begins to slough right off his forearm. It pulls Rohan's smudged upper lip and crinkles his nose. ]
Eugh... I'm never going to get used to this. [ S I G H. For someone who is down with licking spiders and other gross shit for the sake of research, he sure does have a problem with eating. It's the principle. ] Do you want some of this? It's easy on the teeth.
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[But that's another question, indeed — one whose decision sort of gets made for him when he watches the flesh come sliding off the armbones like a particularly tender piece of chicken. He'd been working up the courage before, taking a backseat to the gargoyle instincts that simply want to feed and see this as nothing more than dinner, but the sight visibly rattles him, despite his best efforts to stay calm and still.
All of a sudden, stop surviving and start being okay seems to take on a different but immediately significant meaning.
He casts Rohan a half-alarmed, half-stricken look that still comes out more muted on his expression than it would on most people's — delivered mostly through the eyes.]
Can you —
[God, this is mortifying.]
...Maybe if it...looked a little less like a person.
[God, he should just figure it out and cope with it, but suddenly he just doesn't want to this time.]
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They all look like people. [ He doesn't look like he enjoys delivering this news. This is going to take all goddamn night at this rate. ] It's a shitty thing, Jotaro. You stop having a choice. You stop getting to go-- [ He holds up one strip of pulled away muscle to look at it with a long squint. ] Is this really what I feel like doing tonight?
[ Into the jar it goes. ]
I'm not going to lecture you but I think you need to look at it from the angle of someone who literally cannot eat normal food anymore. Josuke brought me a milkshake last week and it was the greatest thing to happen to me for a whole ten seconds before it made me sick.
[ Rohan Has A Bad Day keeps getting better and better the more he talks about it. The more tired and borderline forlorn he sounds is reflected in all of what he is explaining. It's harder on him than he has been making it look for the past... How ever months they have been here. ]
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[He ducks his head, reaching up to scrub at his face.]
I know you're being the voice of reason. I need that. It's not denial, I'm not in denial, it's just...I need to feel like I tried. Just that I tried to not...just accept this. I need to feel like I fought it somehow, or I'll spend the rest of my life wondering if I really am like —
[And then he stops short, hard and abrupt, like he didn't mean that last bit to leave his mouth but it got out anyway.]
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Whatever is up with that is well beyond him. ]
You are your own worst enemy, Jotaro. You have your reasons for doing and not doing the things we are hardwired to learn. It's admirable. When you look at it from that way... Spending the rest of your life wondering something... [ This is said with a hypnotic, sing-song eloquence. His fingers stop stripping the arm and his eyes roll over to Jotaro's face with a yellow flickering of his sclera catching on any shadow. ]
You're the only enemy you ever seem to lose to.
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He himself has been principled, as much as he can. He's had the luxury of being principled, with his changes coming in as awful and slow as they have. Rohan just got dumped into the middle of a tempest and told to swim or die.
(He can sympathize with that. Oh, can he ever.)
Absently, he looks at his palm and remembers how Rohan had burned himself previously — evidently from the heat his body is giving off — and makes a concerted effort to moderate that down to a dull even warmth before reaching to rest his hand against the scales of Rohan's tail. It's hard to explain what he thinks he's achieving with that. It's an attempt at kindness, certainly — he's cold all the time, so surely an offering of warmth is something of an comfort he can extend.]
Your Stand. The one you had before you came here. Did it say something about you?
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That depends on who you ask.
[ Really, it does. ]
Heaven's Door allowed me to read people from start to finish. To know everything about them at my will. It allowed me to give them new memories or take away old ones.
Do you think that says something about me?
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[He hums a little in the back of his throat, hand skimming absently over a small patch of Rohan's scales.]
You're someone intensely interested in experiences. Stories. People. Your Stand lets you read them like a book. But there's a separation, too. It lets you find out about someone without having to ask them. You get to skip the social part and just...read.
I don't know. I think it sounds like you. Or something that's helpful to you, anyway.
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[ He hits the nail on the head, of course. Rohan left out some other... Details about his Stand but Jotaro has the idea well enough. ]
It's very helpful. It keeps me from having to get too close to people to get the information that I need.
If you haven't noticed: I'm not a social butterfly. I can get my work done without the bullshit that comes from interpersonal connections. It keeps a nice wall between myself and the people around me. There are days I miss having that.
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