And perhaps that's why she pitied him. Because he was blind, and he didn't see the bigger picture (heehee, see-- that was a good one, she'd have to remember it later). He didn't understand that he didn't have to understand, and that was his problem. His inability to not only see, but to see made him blind, and it was up to one Terezi Pyrope to shake some sense into him.
She, after all, knew better than anyone else what it was like to have one of your senses taken away from you. And it had been hell to lose it at first, to feel so helpless floating in the dark abyss of void, as if impending doom was inevitable. Then came the peace, the sensation of just not giving a fuck anymore because oh shit, you were blind. And not just blind, but blind-- to everything to the end of the world to sanity. Terezi had a lusus to teach her to see again, making her once more a functional member of society. And she was just about to lusus the fuck out of Sollux Captor and make him see (not see, she could never make him see again), even if it was only in his own mind. Perhaps only in his mind.
"Sup, TZ," he addressed her. He looked at peace, but he didn't look at peace. He rubbed at the blood congealing at the corner of his goggles-- Feferi's, Terezi realized.
"Nice to see you, Captor," she smiled, her fangs seeming to stick out against her charcoal lips.
He snorted at the implications, "You would, TZ, you would."
She plopped down next to him, sitting at the foot of the stairs, "I would what? I CAN see you, even if I can't see you."
"TZ, I don't get you on the best of days, but that made no fucking sense whatsoever," his voice seemed to ring like bells, but not the melodically jingling kind. The huge, empty kind that made low, hollow bongs like enormous, noose-shaped "o"s hanging in the sky, like the ones announcing a hanging.
"Then let me explain," she smiled toothily again. "Let me help you see my point."
"Okay," he shrugged, the blurry outlines of his clothed shoulders making his bloodied shirt shift up every so slightly. She was half-tempted to lick the honey marking just a bit more bitter than the rest straight off his chest; the third line didn't belong there.
"You can see again, can't you?" she inquired. "Your psionics."
"It's close enough, for my purposes," he nodded, leaning back on the step. "I guess."
"But it's not in full clarity," she frowned, the corners of her mouth dropping. "I could help you see more clearly. Maybe I could help you see, too."
"What? Wait, what for?" Sollux snorted. "It's not like I'm ever going to need to see more clearly."
"No, you don't get it," Terezi argued. "You have to, you're so close to seeing. You've seen so much already, and you just have to--"
"No, I don't," he interrupted her. "I've had enough of seeing to last me a lifetime. Two of them, in fact. I don't really care for your way of seeing, either."
"But what about the game?" she questioned, concern more blatantly evident than it had ever been.
"It isn't a game anymore, TZ," he answered after a beat of deliberation. Wiping the blood from his eyes, he added, "It never was."
Terezi stared down at her hands, tasting the blueberry that was mirrored on her cane. She was silent for a long, long time.
"It never was," she echoed at last, reaching to clutch his bloodied hand with hers.
"It doesn't matter anyways," he replied, his voice hollowing. The empty, soulless "o"s resounded as he said, "We were always doomed."
FILL: TEAM DIRK<3JAKE
They said that pity was blind.
And perhaps that's why she pitied him. Because he was blind, and he didn't see the bigger picture (heehee, see-- that was a good one, she'd have to remember it later). He didn't understand that he didn't have to understand, and that was his problem. His inability to not only see, but to see made him blind, and it was up to one Terezi Pyrope to shake some sense into him.
She, after all, knew better than anyone else what it was like to have one of your senses taken away from you. And it had been hell to lose it at first, to feel so helpless floating in the dark abyss of void, as if impending doom was inevitable. Then came the peace, the sensation of just not giving a fuck anymore because oh shit, you were blind. And not just blind, but blind-- to everything to the end of the world to sanity. Terezi had a lusus to teach her to see again, making her once more a functional member of society. And she was just about to lusus the fuck out of Sollux Captor and make him see (not see, she could never make him see again), even if it was only in his own mind. Perhaps only in his mind.
"Sup, TZ," he addressed her. He looked at peace, but he didn't look at peace. He rubbed at the blood congealing at the corner of his goggles-- Feferi's, Terezi realized.
"Nice to see you, Captor," she smiled, her fangs seeming to stick out against her charcoal lips.
He snorted at the implications, "You would, TZ, you would."
She plopped down next to him, sitting at the foot of the stairs, "I would what? I CAN see you, even if I can't see you."
"TZ, I don't get you on the best of days, but that made no fucking sense whatsoever," his voice seemed to ring like bells, but not the melodically jingling kind. The huge, empty kind that made low, hollow bongs like enormous, noose-shaped "o"s hanging in the sky, like the ones announcing a hanging.
"Then let me explain," she smiled toothily again. "Let me help you see my point."
"Okay," he shrugged, the blurry outlines of his clothed shoulders making his bloodied shirt shift up every so slightly. She was half-tempted to lick the honey marking just a bit more bitter than the rest straight off his chest; the third line didn't belong there.
"You can see again, can't you?" she inquired. "Your psionics."
"It's close enough, for my purposes," he nodded, leaning back on the step. "I guess."
"But it's not in full clarity," she frowned, the corners of her mouth dropping. "I could help you see more clearly. Maybe I could help you see, too."
"What? Wait, what for?" Sollux snorted. "It's not like I'm ever going to need to see more clearly."
"No, you don't get it," Terezi argued. "You have to, you're so close to seeing. You've seen so much already, and you just have to--"
"No, I don't," he interrupted her. "I've had enough of seeing to last me a lifetime. Two of them, in fact. I don't really care for your way of seeing, either."
"But what about the game?" she questioned, concern more blatantly evident than it had ever been.
"It isn't a game anymore, TZ," he answered after a beat of deliberation. Wiping the blood from his eyes, he added, "It never was."
Terezi stared down at her hands, tasting the blueberry that was mirrored on her cane. She was silent for a long, long time.
"It never was," she echoed at last, reaching to clutch his bloodied hand with hers.
"It doesn't matter anyways," he replied, his voice hollowing. The empty, soulless "o"s resounded as he said, "We were always doomed."
She didn't know what to say to that.