[ ah. so Vangeance really cares so little about his own fate, in the end. it wasn't even worth his consideration, was that it...? that little smile was unnerving and disturbing for everything it said without words. it made something cold and unpleasant run down his spine in recognition.
he doesn't like this at all.
it wasn't just about the 'fate' he'd resigned himself to. it went beyond that; he would've had to think so little of himself for so long for it to reach this tipping point. he'd stopped seeing himself as someone deserving of a future, to get this far. it was completely at odds with the sympathetic, kind, warm-eyed smiles of earlier... no; that isn't quite right, is it? even then, they had been fringed by sadness. it never truly went away.
his hands mechanically settle in his lap. ]
...I'll believe in what you can't, for now.
[ his future - his sense of self-worth... that he can find a way to avoid that terrible, empty end. ]
I'm with you. So, between the two of us, maybe... maybe, we can...
[ ...can find a way, one day. maybe in this place full of impossibilities, there would be a chance, some... some shot in hell, some one in a million opportunity to open his eyes to something... even just the chance he might realize his life was meaningful, that he... was a good man, beneath it all. that he deserved a chance to live, to protect both halves of his heart held by those he loved. surely, for someone who wanted such a pure, sincere thing... surely, there would be a way. there would... be...
...he wouldn't let him give up, god... damnit. ]
Please-- hold on, until then. Please don't give up.
[ He doesn’t understand at first. What Abel says he’ll believe in, and what he’s hoping they can achieve. Vangeance looks up from the rosary to stare wearily at Abel, brow knit beneath the shadow of his mask and eyes narrowed in scrutiny. ‘Don’t give up,’ Abel says, as if he’d ever even considered giving up on his duties. He will do everything he can for the people here, and return to the Kingdom to play out his role.
— ah. That’s not it, though, is it.
His eyes widen as the realization sets in. Then his shoulders slump just a fraction, buckling under the weight of the emotions that wash through him — a breathtaking wave of gratitude and admiration and guilt. To think that Abel would still be so sympathetic towards a self-professed coward and traitor, so prepared to watch his loved ones kill each other. He really is a terrible bleeding heart, isn’t it. Truly kind and merciful, whatever his past may have been.
The sort of man who shouldn’t have to continue tormenting himself. ]
... I’m very glad you’re here, Abel. [ His smile’s lost that polished quality, and it’s just frank fondness that shines through his exhaustion. ] You said what you possess isn’t strength, but I would know no other word for it.
[ Abel had voiced no further questions, so Vangeance takes it as implicit permission to leave. There’s the quiet thump of his boots against the floor as he stands, but after a moment’s pause, he steps around the table. His movements are gentle and reverent, picking up the rosary with the utmost care, making sure to cup the chain with his other hand to keep it from tangling as he holds it out for Abel to take. ]
I’m sure the person who left this in your care would be very proud of you.
[ Vangeance was faced with an impossible decision. his indecision was natural as much as it was heartbreaking. it was an unfathomably difficult place for anyone to be in, and only a fool would envy him for it.
but...
the priest can’t help but wonder at the inevitability of this confrontation, that little niggle of hope and muted desperation on the other man’s behalf refusing to go unacknowledged. would Vangeance really be able to wash his hands of choice and accept his fate...? let the cards fall where they would? when the time came... would he really be able to watch one of his most precious people kill the other...? this man with a heart capable of love, of being loved by others — by seeing and seeking kindness in others, would he really...
...ah. he’s stolen from his thoughts as he realizes the footsteps he’s heard aren’t those of the Magic Knight readying to take his leave. Vangeance is here, instead — Lilith’s rosary dangling from his fingers. the irony of such a person holding it with reverence, understanding some small measure of its worth... doesn’t escape him.
...
Abel reaches out, unable to stop the smile of weary gratitude from reaching his lips as he takes the precious memento. he hadn’t needed any more reasons to find himself fond of this man, but... here was another. ]
...I look forward to our next cup of tea, William.
[ he wouldn’t blame him for desperately wanting to avoid Abel after this. but he also knew Vangeance was a man of his word, and... eventually, some sense of that duty he held despite it all would bring him back. he’s impossibly kind to everyone except himself, this one. he cares too much for a world he separates himself from by layers of well-placed facade, quick to judge himself and just as quick to forgive others their transgressions. he deserves better than this.
[ He should probably keep his distance. Only do his duty as a Knight and guarantee Abel’s safety, but otherwise keep a gulf between them, refrain from bridging that gap any more than he already has. Because his is a sin that doesn’t deserve forgiveness or mercy, and the fact that Abel is willing to extend that invitation to him means he isn’t an impartial judge. Abel is a good man despite his claims otherwise, someone who’ll be able to do much to help the people of this place, and to waste his time any more than he already has would be counter to his duties as a Knight.
Vangeance knows, knows that he should politely reject that invitation and never come here again. ]
... of course.
[ But he is, in the end, a selfish coward. That acquiescence comes out soft, his voice low, but not reluctant. Vangeance watches the way Abel holds the rosary so carefully in his hands, like the precious memento it is, and he knows he won’t be able to stay away.
Because Abel is a good person, and he desperately wants to witness that proof of humanity’s worth. This kind man, so determined to save others despite his own old wounds, willing to accept anything and anyone even as he refuses to accept himself ... the kind of person most able to help others, because of, not in spite of his sordid past. All Vangeance has ever wanted is to ensure people’s safety and happiness, and while he’s utterly failed so many people in that respect ... maybe he’ll be permitted to watch Abel attain that goal. Maybe he can allow himself to behold a tiny sliver of that warmth in the name of keeping Abel safe. Maybe he’ll be forgiven for that selfish desire, if only because it’s for a good cause.
His gaze lingers for a moment longer — tinged with unspoken admiration and guilt and devotion — before he finally gives a small nod. ]
Please take care. I’m sure we’ll meet again before long.
[ Vangeance turns away, and he doesn’t look back as he leaves. He doesn’t permit himself that luxury. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
he doesn't like this at all.
it wasn't just about the 'fate' he'd resigned himself to. it went beyond that; he would've had to think so little of himself for so long for it to reach this tipping point. he'd stopped seeing himself as someone deserving of a future, to get this far. it was completely at odds with the sympathetic, kind, warm-eyed smiles of earlier... no; that isn't quite right, is it? even then, they had been fringed by sadness. it never truly went away.
his hands mechanically settle in his lap. ]
...I'll believe in what you can't, for now.
[ his future - his sense of self-worth... that he can find a way to avoid that terrible, empty end. ]
I'm with you. So, between the two of us, maybe... maybe, we can...
[ ...can find a way, one day. maybe in this place full of impossibilities, there would be a chance, some... some shot in hell, some one in a million opportunity to open his eyes to something... even just the chance he might realize his life was meaningful, that he... was a good man, beneath it all. that he deserved a chance to live, to protect both halves of his heart held by those he loved. surely, for someone who wanted such a pure, sincere thing... surely, there would be a way. there would... be...
...he wouldn't let him give up, god... damnit. ]
Please-- hold on, until then. Please don't give up.
no subject
— ah. That’s not it, though, is it.
His eyes widen as the realization sets in. Then his shoulders slump just a fraction, buckling under the weight of the emotions that wash through him — a breathtaking wave of gratitude and admiration and guilt. To think that Abel would still be so sympathetic towards a self-professed coward and traitor, so prepared to watch his loved ones kill each other. He really is a terrible bleeding heart, isn’t it. Truly kind and merciful, whatever his past may have been.
The sort of man who shouldn’t have to continue tormenting himself. ]
... I’m very glad you’re here, Abel. [ His smile’s lost that polished quality, and it’s just frank fondness that shines through his exhaustion. ] You said what you possess isn’t strength, but I would know no other word for it.
[ Abel had voiced no further questions, so Vangeance takes it as implicit permission to leave. There’s the quiet thump of his boots against the floor as he stands, but after a moment’s pause, he steps around the table. His movements are gentle and reverent, picking up the rosary with the utmost care, making sure to cup the chain with his other hand to keep it from tangling as he holds it out for Abel to take. ]
I’m sure the person who left this in your care would be very proud of you.
no subject
but...
the priest can’t help but wonder at the inevitability of this confrontation, that little niggle of hope and muted desperation on the other man’s behalf refusing to go unacknowledged. would Vangeance really be able to wash his hands of choice and accept his fate...? let the cards fall where they would? when the time came... would he really be able to watch one of his most precious people kill the other...? this man with a heart capable of love, of being loved by others — by seeing and seeking kindness in others, would he really...
...ah. he’s stolen from his thoughts as he realizes the footsteps he’s heard aren’t those of the Magic Knight readying to take his leave. Vangeance is here, instead — Lilith’s rosary dangling from his fingers. the irony of such a person holding it with reverence, understanding some small measure of its worth... doesn’t escape him.
...
Abel reaches out, unable to stop the smile of weary gratitude from reaching his lips as he takes the precious memento. he hadn’t needed any more reasons to find himself fond of this man, but... here was another. ]
...I look forward to our next cup of tea, William.
[ he wouldn’t blame him for desperately wanting to avoid Abel after this. but he also knew Vangeance was a man of his word, and... eventually, some sense of that duty he held despite it all would bring him back. he’s impossibly kind to everyone except himself, this one. he cares too much for a world he separates himself from by layers of well-placed facade, quick to judge himself and just as quick to forgive others their transgressions. he deserves better than this.
yes, this man...
... ]
Please rest well, until then.
no subject
Vangeance knows, knows that he should politely reject that invitation and never come here again. ]
... of course.
[ But he is, in the end, a selfish coward. That acquiescence comes out soft, his voice low, but not reluctant. Vangeance watches the way Abel holds the rosary so carefully in his hands, like the precious memento it is, and he knows he won’t be able to stay away.
Because Abel is a good person, and he desperately wants to witness that proof of humanity’s worth. This kind man, so determined to save others despite his own old wounds, willing to accept anything and anyone even as he refuses to accept himself ... the kind of person most able to help others, because of, not in spite of his sordid past. All Vangeance has ever wanted is to ensure people’s safety and happiness, and while he’s utterly failed so many people in that respect ... maybe he’ll be permitted to watch Abel attain that goal. Maybe he can allow himself to behold a tiny sliver of that warmth in the name of keeping Abel safe. Maybe he’ll be forgiven for that selfish desire, if only because it’s for a good cause.
His gaze lingers for a moment longer — tinged with unspoken admiration and guilt and devotion — before he finally gives a small nod. ]
Please take care. I’m sure we’ll meet again before long.
[ Vangeance turns away, and he doesn’t look back as he leaves. He doesn’t permit himself that luxury. ]