[Another deep breath. Just focusing on that. It's not as bad out of the forest, right on the edges, but there's nothing to distract him here either. Nothing to channel all the usual war. All the life and death pull is just there, humming, buzzing behind his ear. Calling and yet--]
A similar reason to me, but the double spring doesn't bother them.
We are pirates Selphie. We've had to fight just to live. To suddenly live without that is...
[An illusion, a lie. A siren song. A feeling of something incredibly off even while it said in almost Pops' voice that it was the right thing. Peace? What is peace? Thatch and Ace both died in the struggle for life. This was pain and bliss and it was an anathema. A sweet burden.]
Chandra says this place is like the opposite of chaos. Order, community. That part might seem nice.
[Another deep breath.] The life of it is like a pulse. I don't know if anyone else can feel it. The surge. She said it's a wellspring of a type of energy, of mana. But for me, it's like like I can feel everything breathe on this island. The trees, the ducks, the flowers, the tadpoles. The air goes from one to another and back.
That's.... not bad... [Again he takes his own deep breath and opens his eyes to give her a more gentle look.] But until now it wasn't peaceful. It was a war. [He's so serious about it.] Each breath, each thing that needed to breathe had to fight for it, had to try so hard just to have that one breath, to get that one bit of resource just to cling a little longer. And to feel that all now burns and it burns and burns and-- [An even deeper breath and he looks up at the sky, his thoughts racing, and he lets it go again.] And it doesn't burn. And that's confusing. It hurts and it doesn't hurt. It should hurt, and it doesn't. It should be freeing, but it's not, it hurts instead.
All those ducks I gave a bath before, I love them. They're great. It's great. But to clean those ducks I drowned the germs, I removed the mites, and...
[He bites his cheek. He's not going to scare her. To explain the death she can't see, that she can't feel, the undercurrent. Back to Ace.] It's an eat or be eaten world. Our world especially, but this one too. This place is removed from that chaos. It whispers that everyone can be together that no one has to eat each other, that no one has to leave to make room for more, that everything has its time.
But who decides that time? It whispers that somehow everything will just know. But I don't want to know. I don't want that set out. I don't want it the way anyone else decides. I'll take the flowers instead. I'll pick the time. I'll spread the seeds all over so that the others can breathe.
[He puts both hands to his temples and hangs his head.]
[He wants to cry practically in frustration. This place... he hates it. He shouldn't, but he does. It's too much, and he can't accept it, can't accept its existence without everything else to even it. Can't accept it when most of his brothers aren't around to know how Ace and Thatch are still alive, to share in their adventures. He has to make the most of it. And more than everything the constant push and pull for peace and calm is driving him insane.]
This place is maddening. You know how a clock spins around until it comes back to where it started? It is like this one is spinning so fast it is frozen. It's so fast, and I can only watch it, I can't slow it down.
It's like a nightmare I can't wake from.
Please, don't tell Leanne. I am glad she's restoring here, but no, it feels like -- [Like for every birth there's death, and the undercurrent of death is screaming as loudly as the life, screaming to be acknowledged, and yet silenced, so silenced, hidden in silence, but still there, oh yes, there.] a nightmare.
action 2/2
No.
[Good? It was nearly torture.]
[Another deep breath. Just focusing on that. It's not as bad out of the forest, right on the edges, but there's nothing to distract him here either. Nothing to channel all the usual war. All the life and death pull is just there, humming, buzzing behind his ear. Calling and yet--]
A similar reason to me, but the double spring doesn't bother them.
We are pirates Selphie. We've had to fight just to live. To suddenly live without that is...
[An illusion, a lie. A siren song. A feeling of something incredibly off even while it said in almost Pops' voice that it was the right thing. Peace? What is peace? Thatch and Ace both died in the struggle for life. This was pain and bliss and it was an anathema. A sweet burden.]
Chandra says this place is like the opposite of chaos. Order, community. That part might seem nice.
[Another deep breath.] The life of it is like a pulse. I don't know if anyone else can feel it. The surge. She said it's a wellspring of a type of energy, of mana. But for me, it's like like I can feel everything breathe on this island. The trees, the ducks, the flowers, the tadpoles. The air goes from one to another and back.
That's.... not bad... [Again he takes his own deep breath and opens his eyes to give her a more gentle look.] But until now it wasn't peaceful. It was a war. [He's so serious about it.] Each breath, each thing that needed to breathe had to fight for it, had to try so hard just to have that one breath, to get that one bit of resource just to cling a little longer. And to feel that all now burns and it burns and burns and-- [An even deeper breath and he looks up at the sky, his thoughts racing, and he lets it go again.] And it doesn't burn. And that's confusing. It hurts and it doesn't hurt. It should hurt, and it doesn't. It should be freeing, but it's not, it hurts instead.
All those ducks I gave a bath before, I love them. They're great. It's great. But to clean those ducks I drowned the germs, I removed the mites, and...
[He bites his cheek. He's not going to scare her. To explain the death she can't see, that she can't feel, the undercurrent. Back to Ace.] It's an eat or be eaten world. Our world especially, but this one too. This place is removed from that chaos. It whispers that everyone can be together that no one has to eat each other, that no one has to leave to make room for more, that everything has its time.
But who decides that time? It whispers that somehow everything will just know. But I don't want to know. I don't want that set out. I don't want it the way anyone else decides. I'll take the flowers instead. I'll pick the time. I'll spread the seeds all over so that the others can breathe.
[He puts both hands to his temples and hangs his head.]
[He wants to cry practically in frustration. This place... he hates it. He shouldn't, but he does. It's too much, and he can't accept it, can't accept its existence without everything else to even it. Can't accept it when most of his brothers aren't around to know how Ace and Thatch are still alive, to share in their adventures. He has to make the most of it. And more than everything the constant push and pull for peace and calm is driving him insane.]
This place is maddening. You know how a clock spins around until it comes back to where it started? It is like this one is spinning so fast it is frozen. It's so fast, and I can only watch it, I can't slow it down.
It's like a nightmare I can't wake from.
Please, don't tell Leanne. I am glad she's restoring here, but no, it feels like -- [Like for every birth there's death, and the undercurrent of death is screaming as loudly as the life, screaming to be acknowledged, and yet silenced, so silenced, hidden in silence, but still there, oh yes, there.] a nightmare.