psychoshenanigans | Drift Fleet // Canon

[he doesn't bring a blanket with him, this time. just dressed in his usual, abused clothes. he's really beginning to look homeless in these things--small and raggedy--though it does compliment the shadows he's been collecting under his eyes.

and like before, he comes slinking out of the ship once the cargo bay door lowers.

it's unfortunately the same look he'd that had that first night, but without the palor of bloodloss. quiet, and expecting nothing good, but having no idea the caliber of what's heading right for him.]

Hey, Nel...

[he's got a smile for him still, but he doesn't rush to meet him with the same enthusiasm he had before. his steps aren't excited. just... normal. the smile is just normal, just the usual. and even that, he doesn't bother with for very long.]

You doing okay? No one's been giving you any trouble, right?

[he hugs his arms around himself and nods, glancing back at the ship behind him.]

Yeah. I think I worried them or something.

They've been really nice.

Ah, I wondered...

[he glances back at the ship too... but claps Nel lightly on the shoulder.]

That's good, though, isn't it? I'm glad you've got a nice crew.

Yeah. It could have been a lot worse.

[but he's... just talking. it's something to cover the waiting. head hung forward a little, but looking up at Robin, and waiting.]

Well...

[yeah... they both know. his weak smile fades away with a sigh, and he looks away.]

It's about to get worse. I'm sorry, Nel, but... You're not going to like this.

[there's that hesitation that comes before he would normally say something, but words don't actually happen this time. he wants to ask what's going on, but he's afraid to.

and there's that unsettled vertigo feeling somewhere in his stomach. it feels like the ground is going to shift under his feet and he's bracing for it. but it's hard to know how much, when you don't know how bad it's going to be.]

[...all right, Robin. this starts now. and they were right about one thing... if there's ever going to be a good place for this to start, it'll be here.]

What happened with Fenris, that guy with the tattoos, that wasn't your fault. I don't think that anyone doubts he did the wrong thing. But... They're also still upset that I'm keeping you as a collar. It's not any better here than it was on Nor.

[he pales, if that's possible. Robin might even be able to feel his little bird's-heart picking up speed in his chest.

all he manages is a stiff little nod. bracing for the rest.]

Nel...

[the elf looks a little taller, with Robin standing lower on the ramp. he can almost pretend he feels like he's talking to a rational adult, and not ruining a kid's life.]

Your ship is going to take good care of you, and I'm not going anywhere, but... I can't be your master anymore.

[Robin can feel pain, right?

that's what was missing, that first night. this is what Robin had dodged, before. on the outside, he barely flinches. that part is the same. just a flicker across his face, but Robin can feel the punch.

shot right in the chest--dead center. he wavers on his feet like a corpse that hasn't realized that it's all over yet.]

...What?

[voice very small.]

[there it is again, that thought. it was easier when he killed him. what kind of a person thinks that? he doesn't even have it in him to revel in Nel's threads; he's found enough knots and tangles and loose strings in the last two days to make him nauseous.

he finds a way, somehow, to repeat himself firmly:] I can't be your master anymore. This isn't Nor and this isn't the Court. Things have to change.

But--

[when his voice hitches, is it on the word why? it's stuck on some question, rising up in his throat.

he goes desperately searching, glancing away-- not down, but up and to the side. around, searching his mind for words, searching for a reason, trying to think of an alternative.

because if he keeps his head up, eyes up and not down, everything beginning to well there might not actually fall.

maybe he's just not understanding things right. maybe it's still okay. but he can't work out any of the words to ask.]

[he knows that none of the usual rationales will work. he can't make this about "them" to soften the blow, he can't "promise" he's going to ease him out of it, he can't remind him about all the other "good" things he might have... because none of those things are real, to Nel.]

But nothing. That's it. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can say to change it.

[he doesn't get mad. he wishes he could get mad. yelling at him might give him an excuse to leave faster. maybe it would be easier if Nel hated him.]

I love you. I want to help you. But I can't be your master anymore.

[the last phrases jumble together into a mass of sharp edges that gut him. that's what it feels like--shearing right through his ribs without a sound. choking up his voice.]

But why...

[because that's what he doesn't get. why can't Robin do anything about it? Nel's seen it before; Robin can do anything.

if they'd been home, Nel would be the one punished, not the one with more power. why can't Robin fight it? why can't he fight to keep him?

and he takes a step forward, like maybe... maybe he can convince him out of it if he can just get close enough.]

[his response is to grab Nel's thin little arm, pressing his palm into the crook of his elbow, right where the mark is.]

Because you deserve better.

[he pulls. thousands of tiny hooks all latching in and pulling up, drawing ink out through the skin. it's going to hurt. it's going to sting. it's going to scare Nel because Robin hasn't ever done something like this to him.

but he's going to hold fast to his arm because he knows Nel can't overpower him. he's going to hold onto him until it's finished.]

[it does hurt, every bit of him.

he cries out, lurches to curl around the pain, lowering his head and frantically leaning away because that's all he can do.

and out spill the tears, out from where he'd tried to keep them controlled and choked back, down his face in a crumbling sob.

at first he's confused, and that's a terrifying sensation to be around Robin. he'd grown so used to him. he was the good one.

...but then he realizes what's happening to his arm, and that feeling is so much worse.]

--No! [he pleads, voice high, trying to dig fingers around Robin's.] ...Stop!

[his fingers don't budge. he doesn't even flinch. he speaks around his pleas.]

Nelkeila, I release you from my service and absolve you of all ties to me.

[it's then that he takes back his hand, peeling away a layer of inky tar and revealing the skin underneath--fresh and healed and unmarked, the greatest wound he could have inflicted.]

Da il paisa, da graa.

[another sob wracks out of him when he sees clean, bare skin. his arm hasn't looked like that in over a decade. in another life. so many years were spent carrying those marks--occasionally hiding them when the need arose, but otherwise flaunting them. flying the colors that told of where he belonged.]

Please...

[all he can do is beg, and lean away to try and keep his other arm--his last mark--away from Robin.]

[he is merciless, stepping around him to grab at the arm he's trying to hide. he pulls on the skin there just the same, peeling up memory and history and meaning and erasing all of it in less than a minute.

his hands are both stained with ink as he pulls away the last time. he wants so badly to slip up--tell him he's sorry, give him an order, anything would be better than this... but he doesn't have that power anymore. that's against the rules now.]

I hope, one day, you'll understand...

[...he turns to leave. he has to get out. leaving Nel a wreck there is wrong, but he can't stand the thought of him pleading, him sobbing. he has to leave, before the last of his will fails him.]

I'm sorry--

[it's his last, desperate plea. it's the last thing he knows to try--begging Robin to forgive him and take it all back. but his voice breaks up so bad that he can barely get the words out.

he's watching it all walking away from him. the little bit he'd had. he'd been trying for so long, but it's ending now, and he can't do anything to stop it. Rin and now Robin.

breaking the small things he'd built, stripping him down, and leaving him with strangers.

he remembers now, how this felt.]

Drift Fleet // Canon

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