[He has to keep thinking that. It's too far in the game to stop believing in his own superiority. If it wasn't okay for him to do everything he did, he'd have to feel guilty, and there's so much to feel guilty for, it's a burden most people couldn't handle. But guilt, truly understanding the gravity of his actions, isn't something Ariel's been capable of -- until Tristan unknowingly changed that. It's still not something he's built up to grasping. But he's feeling unstable enough that he feels desperate to reinforce the correctness of his actions. It was right for him to do what he wants. That's how it's meant to be. It's Ariel getting hurt that was wrong.]
I can do what I want. Who were you to stop me in the first place?
No. You had no right. No one has the right to do the things you did. And I'm your older brother, if that's not enough, I'm also just another person. Anyone has the right to stop the kind of atrocities you were committing, Ariel.
[He doesn't say any of it angrily. He's tired and oddly calm, he doesn't have the energy to be upset at Ariel for being broken, for being delusional about what's acceptable. If he let that bother him he couldn't keep Ariel here. So he replies without any heat, but with perfect conviction. He feels guilty himself, for letting Ariel continue for so long, even though he knows, logically, any attempt to stop him without the help he found in Jupiter would have been futile. He still feels somewhat responsible for Ariel's actions.]
Don't you lecture me! You're garbage. You don't know anything.
[So he protests, getting up from Tristan and the bed feeling dizzy with emotion, half of it uncharted territory he doesn't want to even acknowledge being in. Tristan's calm just makes it worse. Ariel's right because he has to be. Because he always has been. But it stopped being validated two years ago, and it's hard to be anything but lost in response to that.]
[He grabs Ariel's wrist, not letting him up just yet. It's not painful, but it's a firm hold.]
You will not speak to me that way again, understand? I won't put up with it. I won't hurt you for it but I will reduce your privileges. You may not like me, brother, but you will treat me civilly and you will behave appropriately.
[His voice is still raw, his eyes red and his face puffy in a way he never would have allowed, before. But the sharpness in his tone is the same old Ariel, as he tries to yank his wrist out of Tristan's grip. It's tempered by stress, though, a nervousness that's new, because until he was imprisoned he hadn't had to deal with anyone actually being stronger than him very often. When he had, it had been singularly awful, but even then he'd known he was, ultimately, more powerful, so it didn't matter if he was physically overpowered. The safety of his old strength is gone now, and he hates feeling small. He hates knowing Tristan could send him away to people who really don't care for his wellbeing at all. He hates it almost, but not quite, as much as he hates being talked to like Tristan has the right to tell him what to do, to the point of restricting his attitude.
He can't do anything about being slight, but he can be venomous about anyone trying to silence his dissent.]
You can confine me, sedate me, and do whatever the hell else you and those revolutionist bastards have done to me, but I'm not going to be meek about it.
I'm not going to do anything unsavory to you Ariel. But I'm not going to be talked to like that in my own home. If you want to vent, yell at a wall. I'm done being meek too, if you hadn't noticed.
[Right. Right, if Tristan's the kind of person who really won't hurt him, then there's no reason not to push it. The worst he can do is get rid of him, right? So why should he listen? Maybe he should, for luxury's sake, but at the moment he's embarrassed by his own breakdown and not inclined to be nice.]
[He pinches the bridge of his nose like he's getting a headache and slides out of bed, still holding Ariel's wrist and yanking him up as well.]
It's hard to ground someone who's already under house arrest... But you're grounded for a week. You will not leave your room except for meals, which will not include sweets. Come on.
Frankly I should have grounded you when we were children. This will have to do.]
[He gently but firmly tugs Ariel and shoves him into his room.]
And you can consider this for also trying to murder me. Anyone else would have sent you back, Ariel. Anyone else wouldn't have taken you at all. You don't get to be entitled just because I care about you.
[He waves a hand, the doorframe glowing faintly as he locks Ariel from leaving with magic.]
[Who cares about that? He didn't ask for caring. He just demanded loyalty. In his own way he gave it back, but it doesn't mean much in context -- no one in their right mind would want the kind of "staying together" that Ariel would have kept with left to his own devices. Ariel wouldn't want it himself, if he were on the receiving end. But still he's furious at having lost that position, that stability and superiority, because he doesn't care, yet, what anyone else wanted but himself.
It doesn't take Tristan's unintentional meddling to make him collapse again once he's sealed in. That's just a part of the erosion of his mind that got him the government's "mercy" to begin with, a now not too unusual fit of bitter, unhinged laughter, sitting on the floor with his back to the door.
No, he didn't ask for caring at all. It hurts. Everything since that day has hurt, and he's got willpower to put himself back where he wants to be, but the slow creep of self-doubt rots everything from underneath, and the less certain of his delusions he becomes the more desperate he becomes to keep them, and the more he crumbles under that pressure.]
Ahaha-- I don't need you. I don't need anyone. This is all a sham!
[Tristan himself just feels tired. Exhausted emotionally because he does still care, but it's hard to care for someone who doesn't feel it back, who is insane and broken and evil. He rests his palm on the door frame a moment, tempted to try to comfort Ariel but knowing that's a bad idea, a pointless task when he doesn't want Ariel to gain any illusions of controlling Tristan, even through his tantrums, so he simply turns to go back to his room where he'll hardly sleep through nightmares of things being the way they used to.]
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[He has to keep thinking that. It's too far in the game to stop believing in his own superiority. If it wasn't okay for him to do everything he did, he'd have to feel guilty, and there's so much to feel guilty for, it's a burden most people couldn't handle. But guilt, truly understanding the gravity of his actions, isn't something Ariel's been capable of -- until Tristan unknowingly changed that. It's still not something he's built up to grasping. But he's feeling unstable enough that he feels desperate to reinforce the correctness of his actions. It was right for him to do what he wants. That's how it's meant to be. It's Ariel getting hurt that was wrong.]
I can do what I want. Who were you to stop me in the first place?
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[He doesn't say any of it angrily. He's tired and oddly calm, he doesn't have the energy to be upset at Ariel for being broken, for being delusional about what's acceptable. If he let that bother him he couldn't keep Ariel here. So he replies without any heat, but with perfect conviction. He feels guilty himself, for letting Ariel continue for so long, even though he knows, logically, any attempt to stop him without the help he found in Jupiter would have been futile. He still feels somewhat responsible for Ariel's actions.]
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[So he protests, getting up from Tristan and the bed feeling dizzy with emotion, half of it uncharted territory he doesn't want to even acknowledge being in. Tristan's calm just makes it worse. Ariel's right because he has to be. Because he always has been. But it stopped being validated two years ago, and it's hard to be anything but lost in response to that.]
I'm going to bed.
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You will not speak to me that way again, understand? I won't put up with it. I won't hurt you for it but I will reduce your privileges. You may not like me, brother, but you will treat me civilly and you will behave appropriately.
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[His voice is still raw, his eyes red and his face puffy in a way he never would have allowed, before. But the sharpness in his tone is the same old Ariel, as he tries to yank his wrist out of Tristan's grip. It's tempered by stress, though, a nervousness that's new, because until he was imprisoned he hadn't had to deal with anyone actually being stronger than him very often. When he had, it had been singularly awful, but even then he'd known he was, ultimately, more powerful, so it didn't matter if he was physically overpowered. The safety of his old strength is gone now, and he hates feeling small. He hates knowing Tristan could send him away to people who really don't care for his wellbeing at all. He hates it almost, but not quite, as much as he hates being talked to like Tristan has the right to tell him what to do, to the point of restricting his attitude.
He can't do anything about being slight, but he can be venomous about anyone trying to silence his dissent.]
You can confine me, sedate me, and do whatever the hell else you and those revolutionist bastards have done to me, but I'm not going to be meek about it.
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Let go of me, you worthless backstabbing dog.
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It's hard to ground someone who's already under house arrest... But you're grounded for a week. You will not leave your room except for meals, which will not include sweets. Come on.
[He pulls Ariel to the hall with him.]
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I'm not eleven years old, Tristan! If you want me around you can have me as I am!
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[He gently but firmly tugs Ariel and shoves him into his room.]
And you can consider this for also trying to murder me. Anyone else would have sent you back, Ariel. Anyone else wouldn't have taken you at all. You don't get to be entitled just because I care about you.
[He waves a hand, the doorframe glowing faintly as he locks Ariel from leaving with magic.]
Getting along is going to depend on you, not me.
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[Who cares about that? He didn't ask for caring. He just demanded loyalty. In his own way he gave it back, but it doesn't mean much in context -- no one in their right mind would want the kind of "staying together" that Ariel would have kept with left to his own devices. Ariel wouldn't want it himself, if he were on the receiving end. But still he's furious at having lost that position, that stability and superiority, because he doesn't care, yet, what anyone else wanted but himself.
It doesn't take Tristan's unintentional meddling to make him collapse again once he's sealed in. That's just a part of the erosion of his mind that got him the government's "mercy" to begin with, a now not too unusual fit of bitter, unhinged laughter, sitting on the floor with his back to the door.
No, he didn't ask for caring at all. It hurts. Everything since that day has hurt, and he's got willpower to put himself back where he wants to be, but the slow creep of self-doubt rots everything from underneath, and the less certain of his delusions he becomes the more desperate he becomes to keep them, and the more he crumbles under that pressure.]
Ahaha-- I don't need you. I don't need anyone. This is all a sham!
no subject
[Tristan himself just feels tired. Exhausted emotionally because he does still care, but it's hard to care for someone who doesn't feel it back, who is insane and broken and evil. He rests his palm on the door frame a moment, tempted to try to comfort Ariel but knowing that's a bad idea, a pointless task when he doesn't want Ariel to gain any illusions of controlling Tristan, even through his tantrums, so he simply turns to go back to his room where he'll hardly sleep through nightmares of things being the way they used to.]