Post by Matt Knox on Feb 2, 2022 11:49:43 GMT -5
He had considered maybe going to Atlantic City. She tended to go to that apartment when she wanted to be left alone. Seemed like the logical choice, even if it meant getting thrown through another trophy case.
…But it could also mean another…
He shifted in his seat as quickly as he shifted his thought away from that. No, he was almost sure this was the play. Coming back to the scene of the crime, or tragedy as it were. Coming back to where it all went wrong in the eyes of many. Except one. He felt himself scowl as his mind wandered to thoughts of Masque and her cryptic arrogance.
The way she spoke like she was doing Amber a favor while simultaneously claiming to do nothing at all…
He snapped from his righteously indignant reverie as the violent sound of a Street Bike’s exhaust got a little too close for comfort. He slunk in the seat, eyeing the rider. He knew who it was even before the shock of red hair was revealed by the removal of the helmet. He took a moment to watch her in silence, as he had done so many times before. He felt a pang in his heart at how…unwell she was. Her movements ‘off’ for want of a better term.
And he felt powerless to do a damn thing about it..
If only things had been different.
That same thought had repeated on Amber for the past couple of weeks. Long after the sirens screamed faded, long after uniforms and skulking detectives picked through the remains of the Bane's collective 'way out'.
What could she really have changed though?
Most of the roof had collapsed, but there was still enough space to slip by where the wooden beams had crackled and crunched under their own weight, dragging down the roof until the building was left cratered from above.
She'd picked through here enough times to know there wasn't anything left to change her mind, anything that might ease the radiating ache of guilt in her chest.
She'd been the one to buy the property, it had been a surprise for Mac. A step forward together in solidarity that at the end of their professional roller coaster… there was something waiting for them besides addiction and misery.
… and cause she couldn't leave well enough alone, she'd fucked it all up.
"Guessing your phone is somewhere in the rubble?"
His tone was soft, but prodding all the same. He stood with his hands dug deep into the pockets of his coat, posture far too relaxed considering how tense their last conversation had been.
"I mean...has to be, right? Hate to think you were dodging my calls, Amber.."
Even between the faint crunch of footsteps and the thundering pulse in her chest, Amber knew both of them could hear the rush of breath being sucked from the room. Kicking gently through a pile of something that once resembled plastic and papers, Amber held her tongue.
She didn't need to respond, the answer was written on her aura.
Tired.
Defeated.
Ready to just let go…
"Didn't think it pertinent to continue to listen to you rifling through my Fuding psyche, if I'm honest." A heavy pause, one that left both of them seemingly treading water in the same ashen ocean. It was the redhead who broke first, the resignation to the reality of Matt's presence winning out over her desire to just ignore.
"What are you even doing here…"
He remained silent for a moment before walking to her, standing a foot away and to her side. His own toe reaching out to prod at something that was no more than charred and ruined now. He considered his response for a moment before turning to face her.
“Same as you, I suppose..” he flipped something over with the toe of his boot, revealing glass and a ruined frame that no doubt held some sort of certification of their mechanical prowess before within.
“Surveying the damage…”
Eyes shot to her, making it clearer than it no doubt already was that he didn’t mean the garage.
“You shouldn’t go trying to ghost us, Amber. Not after this, and not with that porcelain psychopath doing all she can to sink her claws into you…”
A small scoff echoed over the sound of crunching ash and door below foot, as the redhead leaned gently against one of the fallen structural supports.
"Have you, or anyone else, considered even just for a second…" Amber trailed off with the emphasis on the word. "... That maybe it's what I want?"
Almost frustratedly, Amber gives Matt a look to confirm her seriousness. Perhaps knowing he'd never be inclined to believe otherwise.
"I am so Fuding tired, Matt. Tired of being told the way I should feel, that one day my feelings are valid and the next that I just need to get over it.
I'm tired of the weight on my shoulders and the Fuding thumping in my chest racing the moment anyone starts to give a sideways look."
A long sigh punctuated the thought train as it derailed silently.
"Maybe… I don't know. For a little while I'd like to just not care. Not feel like I'm expected to be a certain way cause that's what is considered acceptable.
I know what happened, Matt. I know how close I came to losing everything… I still am…"
A shrug. Poignant and yet defeated.
"So why should it now matter that I'd like to just… drift away… even just for a little while."
“Then do it right…” he offered gently, the crunch of debris ringing yet again as he turned to her, taking a step forward and bringing a hand to rest on her shoulder “Damn the title, damn the fight, damn it all. Walk away and breathe. Go exist away from the chaos, breathe air that doesn’t taste like copper…”
A squeeze, trying to implant the idea under her skin perhaps. He lets the hand linger before dropping it, only to bring it up to cup his own chin and support the weight of the frown that it bore. He shook his head once, dropping it once more before speaking up.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m not nearly as good at this as I am at provoking violence..I just..” a pause, a shrug “I worry. Even if it’s not my place to.”
Pushing away from the rubble, Amber disappeared further into the debris as though ingratiating within it would allow her a semblance of peace.
"The title… the fights… the violence… they're the only things I haven't seemed to Fudge up. They are the only things I've got to rely on that don't either hate me or want to hate me.
I walk away from that? I may as well have just stayed here…"
Of course the sentence didn't need finishing, the implication ringing loud and true.
"I just want someone to… I dunno, I don't want to feel responsible for everything that I've done wrong for a little while. Maybe I just don't wanna feel anything. I come here cause I keep hoping that I might find something that will make me feel as though I didn't ruin everything cause I couldn't just leave well enough alone… instead, feels like all I keep finding is every reason to just sever ties.
No distractions, no feelings. A blissful ignorance…"
He watched her move, still feeling the uncomfortable tug in his chest as he did. He slid out of his coat, folding it and dropping it in the rubble. He might be here awhile, and what psychiatrist didn’t sit anyway? He dropped down, crossing his legs and observing her for a moment as his mind rifled through the admittedly sparse dialogue that didn’t incite violence.
“You haven’t fucked everything up. You haven’t fucked us up.” he offered, knowing that it probably felt heavy to only one of them, “You’ve…been a constant. Even when everything else has been so fucked off.”
He picked up a charred piece of something that it wasn’t anymore, weighing it and tossing it aside. He cleared his throat, wiping the hand off on his knee before continuing.
“I think…I don’t know what I think. I just know what I know, and it isn’t much….but the one thing…you always seem so convinced that this..” he motioned to the wreckage around them “You think this is the only thing you leave in your wake. But I’m sitting here, proof otherwise I mean…hell, for about five seconds, covered in glass in Atlantic City…I would have done anything you told me to do.”
Amber didn't need to contemplate, half the words didn't make it to her and the other half seemed to glance off. Niceties undeserved and praise unearned.
"You know why I haven't managed to Fudge things up with us?
Cause it's a fight with you… always has been." Almost furious with herself and her exposed vulnerability, she trudged deeper and further out of sight like the words couldn't find her.
"Fact is Matt… the only thing I've ever really been good at is hurting people… that's all I can seem to get right."
Deja vu maybe.
She couldn't stop the crack in her voice, angry and hurt as the raw nerves seemed to prickle.
"For awhile maybe- I just don't want to feel responsible for the pain of everyone I seem to give a Fudge about."
Finding a seat among the ashes of something she couldn't define, Amber allowed her shoulders to slump and pride to fall in pieces around her.
"So why does everyone seem to have such an issue with that…"
He let out a small chuckle despite everything at her assessment, looking down at the rubble. He begins to speak but the words die, a small sound being all that escapes him. No, he shouldn’t say this to the rubble. He looked up to find her, only to wish he had kept his eyes on the rubble at the sight that met him.
“It never had to be…but, we’re not here to drudge that up.” he balled his hands into fists, before releasing them and continuing “We have issue, those of us that do, because we believe your assessment as much as deep down, you do too. Not a damn bit..”
“Why would you ask me to stop you from doing the one thing you think you’re good at, if that’s all you’re really good at? Why marry Mac or anyone? Why get in the ring and doing it for straps and cash and not just do it for dirty cash, causing a lot more damage than you do now?” a pause, he leaned forward toward her, gaze resting on her form despite how badly he wanted to look away, and imagine his friend as strong and fierce as she ever was.
“Because you’re better than that, because you’re a good person…if you weren’t? You’d never have risen above all you have.”
A distant chuckle, one she didn't feel rising in her chest until it was already filling the space around them. One that didn't feel like it belonged to her.
"Maybe you're right… maybe I need to let all of those things go. Embrace what's real, what little I can understand of what's going on in my head.
Don't get me wrong, I Fuding hate Masque, I hate her and everything she represents… but you know what? She's the only one who hasn't just tried to stick a Fuding bandaid on the hole in my chest either.
She's been willing to level with me, to actually give me what it is that I wanted the most instead of trying to tell me the things I should want… that I'm supposed to need."
Locking eyes with Matt, the blue green matching the intensity of the glasz across the space.
"I'm drowning Matt, and everyone keeps telling me that I just need some air. Just get yourself some air and everything will be fine- never minding the fact I'm trapped under ice.
However Masque is the only one who has given me the option of finding out whether I might just be able to breathe underwater… maybe I can't but it's better than anything else anyone is offering right now."
“Masque is offering you subjugation and little else..” his tone took an air of desperation. Suddenly, he was crawling toward her. He stopped before her, on his knees and seated upon his heels as he rested his hands on his thighs. His eyes stared pleadingly at her, mouth slightly open even though the words refused to come into the light.
“I’m not trying to offer you anything, Amber. I’m trying to tell you that you don’t need her. Or me. Or anyone but yourself, as much as that’s the same person who’s wounded you so..” hands shot out, taking purchase on slumped shoulders once more “Giving into her is giving up, and that’s…that’s not you are. I can’t believe that. I can’t believe that you believe that…” He went quiet, the words failing him finally as he stayed planted, hands seemingly taking root upon her shoulders as his eyes had become fixated on the red curtain hiding her own.
The apocalypse was supposed to be quiet, wasn’t it?
"It's not giving up at all. My world doesn't exist on your terms. Not everything is nearly as clear cut as you want it to be and I won't pretend it is for your greying morality." Amber shrugged his hands off, the realization that they would remain on two different pages despite Matt's best efforts to consolidate their feelings.
"All you need to believe is that when the time comes…"
Eye to eye. Partner to partner. Raven to hurricane. Raze to ruin.
"I'll go out there and I'll do what it is that I do best…"
Hands fell, swinging back to his side as a smile trying its best not to be sad cracked his features, a small nod of the head and he answered her as honestly as he always had.
“That’s what i’m afraid of.”
…But it could also mean another…
He shifted in his seat as quickly as he shifted his thought away from that. No, he was almost sure this was the play. Coming back to the scene of the crime, or tragedy as it were. Coming back to where it all went wrong in the eyes of many. Except one. He felt himself scowl as his mind wandered to thoughts of Masque and her cryptic arrogance.
The way she spoke like she was doing Amber a favor while simultaneously claiming to do nothing at all…
He snapped from his righteously indignant reverie as the violent sound of a Street Bike’s exhaust got a little too close for comfort. He slunk in the seat, eyeing the rider. He knew who it was even before the shock of red hair was revealed by the removal of the helmet. He took a moment to watch her in silence, as he had done so many times before. He felt a pang in his heart at how…unwell she was. Her movements ‘off’ for want of a better term.
And he felt powerless to do a damn thing about it..
If only things had been different.
That same thought had repeated on Amber for the past couple of weeks. Long after the sirens screamed faded, long after uniforms and skulking detectives picked through the remains of the Bane's collective 'way out'.
What could she really have changed though?
Most of the roof had collapsed, but there was still enough space to slip by where the wooden beams had crackled and crunched under their own weight, dragging down the roof until the building was left cratered from above.
She'd picked through here enough times to know there wasn't anything left to change her mind, anything that might ease the radiating ache of guilt in her chest.
She'd been the one to buy the property, it had been a surprise for Mac. A step forward together in solidarity that at the end of their professional roller coaster… there was something waiting for them besides addiction and misery.
… and cause she couldn't leave well enough alone, she'd fucked it all up.
"Guessing your phone is somewhere in the rubble?"
His tone was soft, but prodding all the same. He stood with his hands dug deep into the pockets of his coat, posture far too relaxed considering how tense their last conversation had been.
"I mean...has to be, right? Hate to think you were dodging my calls, Amber.."
Even between the faint crunch of footsteps and the thundering pulse in her chest, Amber knew both of them could hear the rush of breath being sucked from the room. Kicking gently through a pile of something that once resembled plastic and papers, Amber held her tongue.
She didn't need to respond, the answer was written on her aura.
Tired.
Defeated.
Ready to just let go…
"Didn't think it pertinent to continue to listen to you rifling through my Fuding psyche, if I'm honest." A heavy pause, one that left both of them seemingly treading water in the same ashen ocean. It was the redhead who broke first, the resignation to the reality of Matt's presence winning out over her desire to just ignore.
"What are you even doing here…"
He remained silent for a moment before walking to her, standing a foot away and to her side. His own toe reaching out to prod at something that was no more than charred and ruined now. He considered his response for a moment before turning to face her.
“Same as you, I suppose..” he flipped something over with the toe of his boot, revealing glass and a ruined frame that no doubt held some sort of certification of their mechanical prowess before within.
“Surveying the damage…”
Eyes shot to her, making it clearer than it no doubt already was that he didn’t mean the garage.
“You shouldn’t go trying to ghost us, Amber. Not after this, and not with that porcelain psychopath doing all she can to sink her claws into you…”
A small scoff echoed over the sound of crunching ash and door below foot, as the redhead leaned gently against one of the fallen structural supports.
"Have you, or anyone else, considered even just for a second…" Amber trailed off with the emphasis on the word. "... That maybe it's what I want?"
Almost frustratedly, Amber gives Matt a look to confirm her seriousness. Perhaps knowing he'd never be inclined to believe otherwise.
"I am so Fuding tired, Matt. Tired of being told the way I should feel, that one day my feelings are valid and the next that I just need to get over it.
I'm tired of the weight on my shoulders and the Fuding thumping in my chest racing the moment anyone starts to give a sideways look."
A long sigh punctuated the thought train as it derailed silently.
"Maybe… I don't know. For a little while I'd like to just not care. Not feel like I'm expected to be a certain way cause that's what is considered acceptable.
I know what happened, Matt. I know how close I came to losing everything… I still am…"
A shrug. Poignant and yet defeated.
"So why should it now matter that I'd like to just… drift away… even just for a little while."
“Then do it right…” he offered gently, the crunch of debris ringing yet again as he turned to her, taking a step forward and bringing a hand to rest on her shoulder “Damn the title, damn the fight, damn it all. Walk away and breathe. Go exist away from the chaos, breathe air that doesn’t taste like copper…”
A squeeze, trying to implant the idea under her skin perhaps. He lets the hand linger before dropping it, only to bring it up to cup his own chin and support the weight of the frown that it bore. He shook his head once, dropping it once more before speaking up.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m not nearly as good at this as I am at provoking violence..I just..” a pause, a shrug “I worry. Even if it’s not my place to.”
Pushing away from the rubble, Amber disappeared further into the debris as though ingratiating within it would allow her a semblance of peace.
"The title… the fights… the violence… they're the only things I haven't seemed to Fudge up. They are the only things I've got to rely on that don't either hate me or want to hate me.
I walk away from that? I may as well have just stayed here…"
Of course the sentence didn't need finishing, the implication ringing loud and true.
"I just want someone to… I dunno, I don't want to feel responsible for everything that I've done wrong for a little while. Maybe I just don't wanna feel anything. I come here cause I keep hoping that I might find something that will make me feel as though I didn't ruin everything cause I couldn't just leave well enough alone… instead, feels like all I keep finding is every reason to just sever ties.
No distractions, no feelings. A blissful ignorance…"
He watched her move, still feeling the uncomfortable tug in his chest as he did. He slid out of his coat, folding it and dropping it in the rubble. He might be here awhile, and what psychiatrist didn’t sit anyway? He dropped down, crossing his legs and observing her for a moment as his mind rifled through the admittedly sparse dialogue that didn’t incite violence.
“You haven’t fucked everything up. You haven’t fucked us up.” he offered, knowing that it probably felt heavy to only one of them, “You’ve…been a constant. Even when everything else has been so fucked off.”
He picked up a charred piece of something that it wasn’t anymore, weighing it and tossing it aside. He cleared his throat, wiping the hand off on his knee before continuing.
“I think…I don’t know what I think. I just know what I know, and it isn’t much….but the one thing…you always seem so convinced that this..” he motioned to the wreckage around them “You think this is the only thing you leave in your wake. But I’m sitting here, proof otherwise I mean…hell, for about five seconds, covered in glass in Atlantic City…I would have done anything you told me to do.”
Amber didn't need to contemplate, half the words didn't make it to her and the other half seemed to glance off. Niceties undeserved and praise unearned.
"You know why I haven't managed to Fudge things up with us?
Cause it's a fight with you… always has been." Almost furious with herself and her exposed vulnerability, she trudged deeper and further out of sight like the words couldn't find her.
"Fact is Matt… the only thing I've ever really been good at is hurting people… that's all I can seem to get right."
Deja vu maybe.
She couldn't stop the crack in her voice, angry and hurt as the raw nerves seemed to prickle.
"For awhile maybe- I just don't want to feel responsible for the pain of everyone I seem to give a Fudge about."
Finding a seat among the ashes of something she couldn't define, Amber allowed her shoulders to slump and pride to fall in pieces around her.
"So why does everyone seem to have such an issue with that…"
He let out a small chuckle despite everything at her assessment, looking down at the rubble. He begins to speak but the words die, a small sound being all that escapes him. No, he shouldn’t say this to the rubble. He looked up to find her, only to wish he had kept his eyes on the rubble at the sight that met him.
“It never had to be…but, we’re not here to drudge that up.” he balled his hands into fists, before releasing them and continuing “We have issue, those of us that do, because we believe your assessment as much as deep down, you do too. Not a damn bit..”
“Why would you ask me to stop you from doing the one thing you think you’re good at, if that’s all you’re really good at? Why marry Mac or anyone? Why get in the ring and doing it for straps and cash and not just do it for dirty cash, causing a lot more damage than you do now?” a pause, he leaned forward toward her, gaze resting on her form despite how badly he wanted to look away, and imagine his friend as strong and fierce as she ever was.
“Because you’re better than that, because you’re a good person…if you weren’t? You’d never have risen above all you have.”
A distant chuckle, one she didn't feel rising in her chest until it was already filling the space around them. One that didn't feel like it belonged to her.
"Maybe you're right… maybe I need to let all of those things go. Embrace what's real, what little I can understand of what's going on in my head.
Don't get me wrong, I Fuding hate Masque, I hate her and everything she represents… but you know what? She's the only one who hasn't just tried to stick a Fuding bandaid on the hole in my chest either.
She's been willing to level with me, to actually give me what it is that I wanted the most instead of trying to tell me the things I should want… that I'm supposed to need."
Locking eyes with Matt, the blue green matching the intensity of the glasz across the space.
"I'm drowning Matt, and everyone keeps telling me that I just need some air. Just get yourself some air and everything will be fine- never minding the fact I'm trapped under ice.
However Masque is the only one who has given me the option of finding out whether I might just be able to breathe underwater… maybe I can't but it's better than anything else anyone is offering right now."
“Masque is offering you subjugation and little else..” his tone took an air of desperation. Suddenly, he was crawling toward her. He stopped before her, on his knees and seated upon his heels as he rested his hands on his thighs. His eyes stared pleadingly at her, mouth slightly open even though the words refused to come into the light.
“I’m not trying to offer you anything, Amber. I’m trying to tell you that you don’t need her. Or me. Or anyone but yourself, as much as that’s the same person who’s wounded you so..” hands shot out, taking purchase on slumped shoulders once more “Giving into her is giving up, and that’s…that’s not you are. I can’t believe that. I can’t believe that you believe that…” He went quiet, the words failing him finally as he stayed planted, hands seemingly taking root upon her shoulders as his eyes had become fixated on the red curtain hiding her own.
The apocalypse was supposed to be quiet, wasn’t it?
"It's not giving up at all. My world doesn't exist on your terms. Not everything is nearly as clear cut as you want it to be and I won't pretend it is for your greying morality." Amber shrugged his hands off, the realization that they would remain on two different pages despite Matt's best efforts to consolidate their feelings.
"All you need to believe is that when the time comes…"
Eye to eye. Partner to partner. Raven to hurricane. Raze to ruin.
"I'll go out there and I'll do what it is that I do best…"
Hands fell, swinging back to his side as a smile trying its best not to be sad cracked his features, a small nod of the head and he answered her as honestly as he always had.
“That’s what i’m afraid of.”
