fabrecation | 026 [written]

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026 [written]

[It's so bad now that Luke feels like he can barely get out of bed except for necessary needs. It's... honestly kind of strange. Sure, he's scared, and sure, he hates having to lay here and just wait for it to happen, despite writing and drawing to pass the time. But he isn't quite as terrified as he was just a month ago.

It's like he's accepted that this is happening in a quiet, somber sort of way.

There's pain every day, he's tired every day, he's thin and pale and looks as if he's just wasting away, as if he's all that's left after tiny pieces of himself slowly just... faded away. Even his hair seemed not quite as full as it ought to be.

He hated it, yes. But it's happening. And he's close to fading away completely, he knows that. Maybe that's why he's mostly okay with this. It can finally be over.

He'd only flipped through the journal to keep track of everyone. Now, though, he can't help being morbidly curious, in a way. So, making sure that he himself is out of sight, he writes slowly to the masses.]

If someone told you that you didn't have much longer to live, what would you do about it? What would you do with the last days of your life?

[It's a question that could be asked even by a curious healthy person, something to get people to think. He can think of it that way, and get answers that he might just need because of it.]

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I don't know about you, but I find it much less lonely.

It's alright to look or feel pathetic. You got every right to be, right? It's not like it's something you can control.

[a pause]

Death is scary, but it also feels alright once it finally just happens. Like drifting off somewhere peaceful. I know our circumstances are likely pretty damn different, but... at least we're here in this place. Is that comforting? Shit, I dunno. I'm not that good at these kinds of things.

[Heisuke's not sure how nice it is, per se, since it sucks to be in the sort of position where you have to struggle to do that in the first place. It's just being desperate, if anything. Maybe. He hasn't a clue.]

Yeah, I guess that would be a good thing to do. Kinda fulfilling, too. How would you go about doing that though?

[Yeah he has no idea who Team Rocket is, but

He settles down, a little smile on his face as he hears the story of his friend. The last part gets him to raise his eyebrows a bit.]

Whoa, really? That doesn't sound like the Mewtwo I know at all... But he warmed up to you, right?

I'd sure like to see some of them when we get back... When the world's okay, I mean. It sounds like there's always something happening to it. [And he was mostly the cause behind it.]

No, it's... it's okay.

[There's a small pause before he writes, faster than he did before.]

You're the only one who's told me stuff like this. That it's my choice. That it's... alright. Everyone else just - They tell me I need to trust them more and that I shouldn't keep secrets. I've

I've never really felt happy because of that.

[There's a pause before Luke writes any more.]

Yeah.

[And now, on to other things.]

Sorry for talking about such depressing things... How've you been doing, Ion? ~~Did things~~ [As he realizes that might be a topic Ion does not want to approach. "Did things work out with Anise?"]

[... There's an audible sigh heard.]

Over the journals. I can't see you right now.

[And with that, Luke gets to work on a filter.]

Your job? What did you do?

[Because as much as Luke wants answers, he doesn't like toeing the line between that and telling people what's wrong.]

[...] And what if you don't ever feel ready?

Mm... yeah. That's one of the words I'm looking for, I guess. It's a lot less lonely. [Considering what it was like back at the manor...] I felt like I never had time to make friends on Auldrant.

See? Like I said...

... Who am I kidding?

That's how I'd feel, too. [Some already know. And every time they look at him, they always get this sort of... sadness. Frustration. It's in their eyes, even though they try to hide it. But Luke can see it plain as day.] So... If it happened to me? I'd probably just try to hide it. I know it's not a good thing to do. But if it means all of our last memories together can be happy? I think that's what I'd want.

Everybody gets to keep some secrets. Dying isn't off the table for that.

They're all hurting because they think they could have done something, made you feel more comfortable, something. But sometimes, it makes things easier when people don't know. Makes life feel normal, the life you enjoyed before you got sick. Don't regret it, kid. Don't hold it against em--but never regret it. It's your last days, weeks, months to decide how you want them to go.

[He taps his pen, silent.]

I don't think they realize how much it hurts to be looked at like a ticking clock.

[... Man. It's a strange feeling, seeing exactly how he feels written by someone else, especially someone he doesn't even know. It makes him stop writing for a moment as a result, and he turns his gaze down to the sheets instead.

A ticking clock. That's exactly how it feels sometimes, especially lately. Knowing that at least a few people can see him like this. He lifts up one hand - completely covered by a glove to hide just how bony it looks, and slowly curls it into a weak fist. Even just doing that, he can feel how thin his fingers are.

He bites his lip and runs a hand through his hair... shuts his eyes and tries to ignore that light little sensation of strands of hair falling against his neck and shoulders, keeps them closed as he pulls his hand away, unwilling to see more strands against his hand. One of the things he's so proud of, too...

And people get to see that. It's not hard to see the frustration, the sadness, in their eyes.

Finally, he opens his eyes and reaches to write again.]

Who are you?

It's all right. [A pause.] ~~I'm~~

[It's almost frightening how easy it is to fall right into telling lies. Luke is keeping something from him -- that much is obvious -- but even so Ion couldn't bring himself to hold it against him. After all, Ion was the one who made that promise never to lie to Luke again. Whether or not Luke chose to follow suit was his business and his alone.]

I've been better. Though it's nothing that shouldn't resolve itself after a little time.

[YOU ARE ALARMING THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, BRO.]

"Very well"

[To tell the truth or not? It can't hurt, can it? To some people here, gambling isn't even illegal.]

I manage a casino for my Family.

[Perhaps he's a bit too picky, but they can't afford to have clumsy dealers or management.]

Don't let your traveling companions hear that from you, Luke.

[There's a dot on the page, where the tip of Kouki's pen touches the paper. He's reading Luke's response, thinking on what to write back. Then, his pen moves.]

Yeah. For me, I'd just have my friends acknowledge it and ask them to ignore it. Ignore it long enough for us to be happy for the last time.

That's all I'd ask for.

Sergeant Rick Doyle, at your service. Formerly part of Earth's American army. Whatever you want to refer to it as, anyway. Guess that's a moot point, but at least it offers some insight on why I died.

[Being a soldier is pretty dangerous, after all.]

Yeah, it took him a bit though. He hung out with Blaine for a while, and that helped out a lot.

Maybe not like all that's been happening recently, but there's always been and always will be things going on in the world, you know?

[Kind of like an engine... It works great for a while, it starts showing signs and developing problems, and then you have to run maintenance on it to make sure it'll pull through and function properly.]

Once things are finished up there... [Hmm.] Well, once things are finished up and the ship's repaired, anyway. I'd hate to leave the Albiore III all banged up for too long.

[no one.]

Can you tell me what's wrong?

[he's not going to force Luke if he still doesn't want to.]

Isn't it obvious?

[It's only because he's pressing down with frustration. He hates having to say it to people, he hates... he hates...]

What I asked about is happening to me right now. [It's better than writing "I'm dying". Easier.]

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