hugtopia_logs | 'no' is the saddest experience you'll ever know.

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'no' is the saddest experience you'll ever know.

♥ Who: Cliff Norman and whoever wants to put up with him.
♥ Where: various.
♥ When: Early November.
♥ What: A sad wolf is a bad wolf.
♥ Warnings: Cursing, Hell content in Héctor thread naturally.

[ one - the loneliest number. teen house. ]

[He doesn't know why he hasn't taken Kaito up on his offer before, especially since he's made a point to walk by his house a couple times to check on it or make sure it existed in the first place. The damage done by the worms isn’t enough to take out the place or make it unsafe, thankfully -- and it even leaves the task of quietly getting inside through a window even easier! Not that he couldn't use some difficulty as a good distraction from feelings he's trying very hard to ignore. Before he goes to climb inside, he makes a quick pass to see if the garden is likewise a survivor from October’s big wormy mess.

And then he's in a home that isn't his. It's weirdly soothing for someone that never relished the idea of spending time in his own home growing up, even if it's far from the window he'd really like to be climbing through. Nothing to do about that...and at least here he could feel vaguely welcome. Both Kaito and Shinji had invited him in the past! It's fine. Cliff is several steps across the room and listening for signs of anyone else being around before he calls,]

Hellooo? Anyone home?

[...decidedly not from the front door.]

[ two - just as bad as one. héctor. ]

[hahahahahahaaa fuck everything about this. He honestly hadn't meant to avoid Héctor all month, but with the worm drama on top of his dumb tender feelings, there hasn't been a good time. That's what he's choosing to tell himself so that he doesn't get frustrated all over again thinking about all the thinking he's had to do.

In the end, Héctor is still Héctor, whether he's the one Cliff knew or not. He knew he wasn't the same and had plenty of reason for that. What mattered most right now was that they were both, more or less, doing okay -- something Clifford had been able to be sure of without getting too close, thankfully, because of his nose.

Now he's getting close. So close, in fact, that he's right at the door and scratching at it with his claws, full wolf. He's...fairly confident that Héctor would be the one to answer any call to the door in this household, from what little experience he's had with Nekane, but if not? He's leaning into the anxious hope that one of the things shared in this -- bleh -- marriage is not the fact that Cliff is a big dumb werewolf.]

[ three - dog night. open. ]

[The scariest part of the worm attack, surprisingly, was not the worms. It was that moment he went to become the wolf and felt like there were hooks on the inside holding him together, refusing to let him change without a fight. He'd fallen to the ground in agony that only lightened when he finally stopped trying to shift and let that part of himself go. Cliff didn't flaunt the fact that he was a werewolf -- basically, anyway -- but not being allowed it, even on his own? Terrifying. He'd barely managed to get his head back on straight enough to shuffle citizens and helpers back towards the safety of the town center, and had been grasping at any chance to help defend.

It's still screwing him up a little, but Cliff’s making the most of getting himself back, going around the city as a red, juvenile wolf watching life get back to normal and honing in on interesting sights and smells.

Of course, the boy in the red hoodie with eyes like an animal can be found wandering as well. Usually out running at any odd hour or stuck behind a counter doing his best to act like someone who knew how to be polite.]

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[It is very hard to stop his smile from growing to see that tail thumping. It's adorable, and it's very tempting to say so. But Cliff is still Cliff and he doubts that will be taken well.

On the flipside, Cliff is likewise careful in his tone as he asks that question. He starts into motion alongside the wolf.]

They're alive. They're okay. We go down together or not at all. [Which... it occurs to him belatedly that that's not what Cliff is concerned about.]

Before that... we gave each other space. We cooled-- well, we found each other in the same place with intention to smash things, and then we cooled off. We talked. [He glances away.] They love me and I don't love myself. We have it in common. But we always work things out and we always take care of each other. Even without imminent doom to speed things up. We're okay.

[He glances back at last, no longer feeling the need to hide now that he plans to go a new topic, one that isn't something Cliff isn't unhappy with him over.]

I'm still disappointed they went after you. Besides the bigger problems, I also hoped you might be friends. At least friendly acquaintances. But I'll sooner wrangle love ballads from them than an apology they aren't ready to give. And I imagine you aren't happy either.

[He tries to temper the stirrings of a bad mood, eyes focused on the path ahead rather than watching Héctor for any hints towards something being left unsaid. ...Or instead of just looking at him in general, because he worries that if he does, his nose will wrinkle and his lips will curl back to reveal sharp, dangerous fangs that would probably be taken as some kind of threat even if he had the intention to never bite a human ever again. It's just...easier to listen and imagine that there was more distance there than he felt, however unearned that closeness was.

It was good news. Focus on that.]

What, you think I'm not capable of playing cards with them anymore?

[The sarcasm isn't over the top, but the lack of a grin to his words suggests that...yeah. It was probably going to be tough even if he did his best to make up for it. Still, the quip isn't insincere. Playing cards with someone that hates him is probably better than laying around bored out of his gourd and feeling more alone than ever.]

...There's really only one thing out of what they said that I want an apology for, anyway. The rest isn't a big deal. Don't worry about it.

[He laughs, not entirely happy, but not bitter either.]

Capable is very different from willing. Or enjoying.

[He doesn't know who will come around first. Or when. He wants to believe they will. Nekane came around for his actually terrible friends. Would Cliff forgive Nekane? He doesn't know.]

Half the time you say not to worry about things, Cliff, it's something to worry about. But if you'll humor at least one thing, will you tell me what they said?

[Maybe it was sneaky of him, but hey, they spied on him first.]

I don't do things I don't want to do.

[Mostly. Point is: he's already considered it not impossible, which is pretty impressive, considering! Just. Yeah. Gonna let it sit for a little while yet. He doesn't feel like dealing with them yet, hence the whole coming around on four legs instead of two.]

I'm no snitch. [It bothers him, obviously, but he's not looking to get Nekane in trouble over it, or anything. Héctor probably wouldn't find the comment he took issue with to be very fair, either. ...He hopes.] But hey, it's not my fault you're a worrywart. Seriously, anytime I say you don't have to worry about it, you don't have to. I can deal with my own shit, dude.

[A fair point. There was that then. So, maybe he didn't hate Nekane after all.

Wouldn't that be nice, to have two people he's fond of actually like each other. Hard to remember the last time that happened outside of shantytown.

And again--]

Fair enough. [He can't begrudge a secret kept.] But not about the worrying. I like you. I'm going to worry about you. Saying that just tells me you don't want or trust me to be involved, which I'll give you is your choice, but it's not going to stop me from worrying. I'll just worry more until I know for certain. You know. Like a worrywart.

[UGH. Don't be such an Oscar!!!]

Well, from now on if I say 'don't worry about it', assume I mean 'I don't want you worrying about it, stay out of my business', thanks.

[...But if he were to talk about how horrifically lonely and homesick he's been, he'd still say not to worry about it, and as much as he hates himself for it, part of him craves for anyone to notice, care, and make the problem go away. That's not even something that's possible, so there's no point in bringing it up.]

And I've fought tons of monsters, so you don't need to freak out about that stuff, either. I'm bummed I didn't get to jump on a worm, though. There was this huge snake thing back home I rescued Oz from, once -- bet I looked cool.

[He sighs heavily.]

You can't ask me not to care, Cliff. I can't just shut that off. But I'll stay out of your business if you really want.

[He's not happy about it, but it seems the best way to repair... whatever this ever was.]

You realize, by now, I've fought monsters too. Maybe even more than you. [Which was all the more reason to worry. He knew what it was like. But moving on.] And I did jump on the worms. It's the best way to kill them. There are weak points all along the top. It was the same in Hell.

I'm not a saying you can't care, jeez.

[Don't be so dramatic... His ear flicks, a sign of the embarrassment he's so far been doing a pretty good job of holding down. People caring about him... Weird!! Even if it's something he's been aware of, and even if it's mostly to hold onto some connection to Coco, it's still an idea he has to adjust to. It was...part of the problem, too. He'd gotten too comfortable with that idea before he knew the whole story, and it felt like Héctor had somehow betrayed him when none of it was any of his business. It's frankly baffling that the man is still trying so earnestly to connect.]

You fought this same kind of worm in Hell?

[...what were Hell worms doing here... He's not going to Say they followed Nekane and Héctor, but he's sure going to Think it, and worry about what could possibly show up by trailing along behind him. At least his biggest concern isn't something that could hurt anyone else...until he completely lost it.]

I couldn't change right, and human teeth just aren't the same in a fight. I figured I was more useful making sure there weren't people trapped outside the safe zone than I was punching the things.

[He lifts a brow, because it sure sounds like that. But... he'll let it go. He'll figure out what this middle ground is supposed to be. Somehow.]

When I asked my friend, the assassin, to teach me how to fight and defend myself, besides just swinging a knife at dummies, he took me out into the further reaches and had me fight this thing or that. I wasn't very good at fighting. Stabbed the man twice completely on accident. [He still feels bad about that. But Squalo has hurt him a fair share too, so not too bad.] But it helped, eventually. One of the first things he had me do was try and kill a sandworm.

[He smiles at Cliff, a small tired thing, but warm.]

You were noble. You made a good choice. Probably saved a lot of people.

["My friend the assassin", okay. Yeah. That's somehow weirder than Oscar's "my friends the werewolf, witch, and ghost"...but not as weird as being called noble. How has this happened more than once?]

I'm not noble, [he protests in a mumble, same as last time.] How do you accidentally stab someone?

[He makes a face, looking up.]

Ah, well, it's kind of... see, there was this hill. He dragged me out to hunt with him and we're in the woods or whatever it is, and then there was this complete drop, you know? Just, one second he's there, the next, woosh! I go to grab him but I just end up falling too, so he finally lands and then there's me, and I've still got the knife in my hand, and I just, ah... well, I stabbed him in the leg. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world. He kept laughing while I panicked.

[The jerk.]

The second time we were in a madhouse, monsters crawling all over the place every night, and he comes out from out of nowhere and I just, sort of, reacted. It was less funny for him the second time but I'd been helping him out the day before so he let it slide and after a bit of struggle we both managed to survive the night.

[Ah, memories? He shakes his head.]

Anyway, hate to burst the bubble, but you totally acted the hero. I just fought because I didn't want to wait to die, which I assumed we were all going to do. I kind of gave myself away a bit...

[Privately, he weighs whether or not he would find that funny, too. Depends on the severity of the stab, maybe? If Oscar hurt him by accident and was freaking out, he'd want to do a lot to pass it off as no big deal...and Héctor did remind him of Oscar more often than he was comfortable with.

...]

Who was he?

[Just curious.

This time the wolf huffs more dramatically, and finds a moment to bump his shoulder into Héctor that wouldn't send the man toppling. Ensuring safety doesn't a hero make!!! He didn't get to really do anything.]

I was a sheepdog. [Ha. His heart feels warm and pained at the same time.] What do you mean? Like, you flipped out?

Squalo Superbi. I doubt you know even an alternate version of him. He would've killed you, myself, anyone else he felt like in other circumstances. I made some poor choices in friends, which, all things considered, is unsurprising of me.

[The bump makes him sway. It makes him smile. He has better friends now. If they were friends. He doesn't know but nevertheless, it was better.

He barely remembers having spoken Squalo's name in front of Cliff while shouting at Nekane.

He looks curious over the way Cliff says sheepdog, head tilting, but Cliff has his own question. He lets out a breath through his teeth.]

No. Not flipped out. The opposite maybe. I stopped caring. We were going to die, so, I didn't need to pretend that I'm not a hollow shell of a man. I told the truth. I didn't try to act like all was well. It was liberating. But, now I have to live with the consequences of... living. [He laughs ruefully, but entirely unhappy.]

[Squalo. An asshole, then, but not the asshole. Cliff nods to himself absently.]

You were in Hell, [he points out as half an excuse, but the fact of the matter is that Héctor had a habit of leaning on some bad people by trying to see better in them, and they both knew it. He tries not to think about what that means for him, or how it makes any praise or approval from the man kind of...less impactful.]

Oh no, poor you, gotta continue existing. Worms didn't eat you and you didn't get crushed under rubble. Boo hoo. [Sir, he will bully you.] You were going to be you anyway. You might as well be you. Fuck that whole "being a good boy" shit, do what you want.

[He smiles, twisted more than any nice sort of crooked.]

I met good people in Hell. Kind people. But even the devil himself was a better friend than some of the ones I called closest to me.

[His laugh is a little bit lighter. Just a little. He bumps into the wolf's side, quick vengeance as much as he can manage. Though he suspects it throws him off balance more than Cliff.]

I'm not bemoaning getting to live. Except for the living body, that's still got to go.

... I worry. I scared you. I don't want to scare anyone else. Or disgust them, for that matter. Everyone's been kind. But I can't help feeling it's because... they don't know. They imagine my Hell, picturing it both better and worse, but none of them know. Not even you, really. I don't need to be good and I don't care to be. God can rot. But... if I'm living, I need to be able to live with myself.

[Well, yeah. Not...going to push much more on that right now. He's curious, but not so curious as to subject himself to even more guilt and worry at this time. Besides, he doesn't want to risk Héctor figuring out what it was that Nekane said to him, and probing at specific names wouldn't be at all subtle.

But his intentions don't matter all that much, because he manages to feel bad anyway, with the reminder that he'd told Héctor about how uneasy the manic cackling and smashing had made him. It isn't at all said to blame him, but try telling that to Cliff's experience being the one to get accused or take the fall. His voice is a grumble that fits both the teen boy and the wolf.]

It's not like no one else has ever taken things too far. [He shouldn't have even said anything.] You know, it's real fucked up, but I think most of the people here really are just nice. ...A couple other people saw my eyes and it's like it wasn't a big deal. They didn't even ask what was wrong with me. Hell isn't the same as being an Animal Person at all, but they might just have their own weird shit you don't know about, either. They might think it's weird you're going around thinking they're nice.

I mean, it's not like you're going to be going around making hand puppets out of people or something psycho like that if you let it out more. You'll still be going to that dumb fountain and getting groceries.

[It's real fucked up, but people might actually be nice. What an unfortunate thing to feel. How nice it is that it's not just him that feels it.

For a second, he laughs, because it would be just like people to insist that they're not any good, despite all evidence to the contrary. Nekane was the worst for it, but so many people he's met couldn't stand to hear such a thing either.

And then the humor dies, his face twisting as he looks distinctly ill.]

No. Definitely no human puppet shows. [He shudders, remembering Dodger's puppetted jaw, Squalo hoisting the decapitated head up on his hand.

But he thinks about that. Being taken apart, having everything taken from him... he would still make coffee in the morning for Nekane. He would wander the city for no other reason than to wander it. He would ponder how best to bring home books or bad films and he would greet the people he passed. Whether or not he wore his scars, his losses, he would still go about these same simple things. He's quiet for a long moment, considering it all.]

I do like that fountain. Maybe a little more considering the gods didn't just sit idly. But I like my places in the plazas. [He smiles faintly, weakly. He turns his face up.]

Really messed up to think that everything might be okay... I think you might be right.

[You know, Cliff's starting to think he shouldn't say the wildest, extreme bullshit he can think of in jest, because somehow it seems that whatever he cam come up with, that's old news in Hell. He'll take that into consideration going forward.

Better to focus on that more optimistic stuff.]

I noticed, [he says about the plazas, a little sarcastically. Three versions of him and it's always a thing. They gravitated to what was familiar. It's...nice that he has something like that in the places he does end up. The alternative is worse.

He's quiet a moment, then glances over, ears going back but staying relatively relaxed. Here he goes, always wrecking whatever good mood he manages to let Héctor scrounge up.]

...Look, it's not -- [The wolf huffs out his nose. He started talking to get talking, but he still hadn't figured out how he was supposed to say it.] I didn't explain it right, I think. We'd throw rocks at signs and whatever. I'd scream my head off, or I'd lose control. I've snapped and hurt people. I don't want you to feel like shit about stuff like that, it's not fair or a big deal. The thing with the gem, tracker, whatever... I was getting it twisted up with -- okay. Let's just say it, we both know that you absolutely would have killed me if you didn't realize it was me. Those guys were monsters. But you'd be doing it to protect them. You wouldn't have...liked doing it, right?

[He snorts but says nothing. He just grins a little, wry and imagining the things Cliff must know about him in his strange alternate-worldly way. A him that's younger and him that's less... that's more what he wants to be.

He doesn't want to think about that for long. It hurts. So in truth, he's grateful for the distraction. At least for a moment.

The next moment his heart squeezes in a way that isn't good at all. And then he just feels sorry.]

No. [He answers softly, quiet.] I would've made sure. I'd want to know you weren't a cultist, that you weren't an Aegle. I might've hurt or threatened you, ruined things between us, but I'd make sure. Then, when I was sure, I would've killed you. But, no, I wouldn't have liked it.

[They were monsters. He's not sorry for them. But still... His eyes close.]

I've fought demons. I suppose you can count killing monsters. But as far as another person, I've only killed one. I don't regret it. He deserved it. And it needed to be done.

But it felt awful. It doesn't leave my head. You lose something of yourself, doing that. I lost something...

Edited 2021-11-12 05:38 (UTC)

I thought they were a monster.

[He'd been quietly listening, the heart that had started steady but quickened over the course of his question starting to settle again. It's back down to a familiar rhythm, but it feels like there's something sharp in there, now. Words that went from his ears to his memory, where it became an arrow of feelings and shot down. The softness in his voice could be mistaken as horrified, accusing disbelief, as if he'd misinterpreted anything Héctor had told him before or was on the verge of revealing his guess about this person's identity, until he continues.]

They were, kind of. But they were a person before that. Not like how Raven was. Someone turned them into these...things, and Oscar was out there, too. He couldn't open his eyes or he'd become one, too, but one of them found us. It would have killed him if --

[Same as Héctor, it needed to be done.]

Anyway, I saved him. I could tell he was scared, though. Scared of me. He didn't even know it was someone, I don't think, he just realized his fun werewolf pal was actually dangerous. He locked the window I'd used to get in.

[Cliff comes to a stop and looks up from his shoes, because he's a boy again with his arms curled around himself. His eyes, more animal than anything, rest on the man instead of dodging him out of discomfort.]

I'm sorry. I didn't want to do that to you.

[Yes, he thinks, Dodger was a monster. No, he thinks, Dodger was just a stupid, stupid man. Before he needs to do anymore to untangle the thoughts, Cliff has gone on and he realizes that the comment wasn't to do with Dodger at all.

He listens to the tale. It's not hard to grasp what would have happened if Cliff had, in that moment, chosen to be merciful. There'd be no mercy at all. And yet, still, Cliff bore punishment for it. He stops too.]

Oh, kid. [He says it quiet. Cliff is a kid again and he reaches, for once wanting to touch, to comfort, but he doesn't. His fingers find the loose edge of Cliff's sweater, hanging there like that's the same as hanging onto him.] I'm so sorry.

[Sorry he knows the feeling. Sorry about the fear.]

...Fear involves choices. You chose to stick around me. Oscar chose, I hope, to stick around you despite that. You and I both know the way people will trick and hurt you, the way monsters don't wait for you to make a choice. It doesn't feel great on the other end of that fear, but... but it might be good to remember it'll keep them safe. Monsters don't wait. The others sorts... only make you compromise, not them. But someone you can trust will... they'll take the steps with you. As long as the fear isn't so great we can't do that, then it's okay.

[He smiles faintly, something bittersweet.]

It's a lot more tedious than the days of trusting everyone and being sure of one's own limits, thinking the world is normal. But I think it's still worth while to work through.

[He doesn't jerk away or even lean out of Héctor's reach. It doesn't take as much effort as he thought it would, especially when he's remembering his muzzle wet with blood and look Oscar had given him. His lame not-even-an-excuse that was a blatant way of avoiding being alone with Cliff. He'd told the man then the same thing he'd told Héctor out of more hurt than he'd ever want to admit.

He doesn't have to admit the feeling to Héctor because he already knows, nor would he have had to explain away or apologize for moving away. Maybe it's because of that that he lets Héctor hold onto his clothes and slowly brings his hand over to tough the side of his finger against the other's.]

Yeah.

[Thrilling commentary.]

So we're cool, okay? I'd rather you not have to fake it around me because you're worried I'll be afraid of you. ...I trust you.

[The little touch is so small, so tentative. It matches Cliff's words, both fragile and yet easy to hold. Both mean everything, a balm on his heart.

He smiles the smallest of smiles.]

I think I'll still be... a little careful. I want you to feel safe.

[How rare that feeling could be. He knows it will take work. But this is, in a sense, what they're doing.]

But I'm... very glad to hear that. You're a good kid in your own right, you know? Not just because of a shared tie to Coco. Naturally, I trust you too.

[It had always been easy, in a way. The relationship itself perhaps was rocky, but he didn't doubt Cliff once-- only when he wasn't sure if Cliff truly was himself. Cliff knew him in ways most people didn't. He'd never worried about that.]

...Nekane learned those hard lessons earlier than I did, relatively. They're not so quick to trust, much quicker to act. That extends to me. But, while they'd rather chew glass than admit it, they're still that angel at heart. They see good in people. And they'll see you're good too.

I can't make them apologize and the choice is still yours to forgive, if ever. But as far as I'm concerned, you're still, and always, welcome. In the family, in my home, or just around.

Edited 2021-11-13 00:05 (UTC)

[Cliff gives a little nod -- feeling safe was good, and so was the feeling of making someone else feel safe. If he thinks about it more like that, it's easier to stomp down the anger at himself for not having any pride left to keep hold of. It helps that it's true.

The rest makes him sigh and want to pull away, but he doesn't do more than curl his finger to take hold of his hoodie right alongside Héctor. He slides over a knuckle in the process and it strikes him how different Héctor's hands were from his, his mom's, Kevin's, and especially Carl's. They're different from Coco's, too, but the deprivation of touch that was normally welcome makes him think of that same warmth, like being wrapped safely up in a blanket. He hopes...he never manages to hurt Coco the same way he'd hurt everyone else that made him feel that way.]

I told you, don't worry about it. Don't know what to do without someone around to call me out on my bullshit after the last few years, anyway. [...] Might pay to see some glass-chewing, though.

[Don't worry about it. He'll let it go. Not every time, but this time.

He snorts. Then full-on laughs. It shakes his shoulders.]

I don't doubt they would. And then I'd have to listen to them complain for weeks. I'll scold and they'll make the usual huffy face and say it was worth it. Sometimes they make me feel civilized.

[He shakes his head and, at last, lets go of Cliff's jacket. He turns a bit so they can continue their walk.]

You let me know if you ever do find out what it's like not to have people call you out. That is one thing I've never gone without. It's just taken different forms.

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