1_800_hotline | a cruel romance [night 8]

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a cruel romance [night 8]

[Death never has a meaning, but if we so choose to seek out patterns in a desperate attempt to imbue meaning into the twisted charades and senseless loss of life, we might come to the natural conclusion that love has no place here. That no matter how close a relationship may become, we can never know anyone else as intimately as we know ourselves.

Ultimately, we are all entirely alone, unable to truly understand anything beyond our deeply limited perspectives.

It's pointless even pretending any of us, alive or dead, are people deserving or capable of love.

Well, to hell with that.

We can always put in the effort.

Even when the circumstances get worse, we can always be better.

So let's give it a try.]

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No.

[ She looks to him sharply. ]

It's not- I'm not obligated, not- not to him. [ She doesn't make any sense. She's not making any sense, get it together- ] Damn it, I'm... I can't get my thoughts straight.

[Well, he's getting somewhere. Whether it's helping or hurting... Venkman's hoping for the former.

His voice is soft when he replies.]

You're not obligated to do anything for anyone. You never should have to feel that way. And he never should've made you feel that way.

[It's a bit of a bluff, an assumption, but that's his element. In the carny to a crowd or to a god holding his friends hostage, when holding poker cards or tarot cards or zener cards; bluffing, running with what little information he has, it's what Venkman does best.

It's the same level of conviction of a fortune teller "reading" a client's recent woes with vague statements- you've had a recent pain in your life, haven't you, which could apply to anything from a twinge in a shoulder to a death in the family.

Only this is far more concrete. More like a therapist making a connection between incidents brought up in past sessions, and now he waits to be proven right.]

[ God, she hates this. Being vulnerable, scared. She can't be that. She's so many things to do, so much of life to appreciate and so many to save.

I lost my chance to save you a long time ago.

Her jaw clenches and her mouth twists into a pained expression. ]

I'm obligated...to the people I hurt...to use that damn thing to protect them, instead of...what I did.

[ Part of her wants to just yell. To tell him to get lost. But it's true. She hasn't spoken of that part. ...She never wanted to. ]

...I haven't always been on the side of good. Back where I came from. Where I had to fight. That... Someone made me do otherwise, for...far too long. And I've regretted every action, every moment, since then.

[He wouldn't mind being yelled at, honestly. If that's what Kim needs- the catharsis of screaming at him to fuck off- then he's here to take it.

For now, Venkman listens, and thinks. Really thinks. This whole conversation is difficult territory to tread- not just because of the danced-around subject, but because of how much he's having to assume and guess from context-, but he's trying his best here.]

You're not obligated to them. I doubt most- or any- of the people you wanna protect have a contract written down tellin' you you have to be their bodyguard for life. You feel obligated to them because you've done wrong before. But is it really you feeling like you have no choice but to keep them safe, like it's a duty- or is it because you care about them, and want them to be safe, wanna do what you can to make that happen? 'Cause there's a world of difference.

... Whatever you did before- it's ok to still hurt from that. To not be over it. To never be fully over it. But you just said it yourself- he made you do shit you morally object to- fight on the wrong side. Whatever you did then is not how you really are. And you don't have to force yourself to prove it. To- [He gestures at the bow.] -to hurt yourself unnecessarily by keeping reminders of what happened.

[ Really, she's throwing him such incredible curve-balls with such little batting practice, it's astounding he's even hitting the ball at all. ]

Of course I care. But...it's more complicated than that. That man...he was- he could've been a great, wonderful friend. ...I've seen it. In another time. But for some reason...he wasn't. I... We weren't enough to stop him from giving into the darkness in him...and so the whole world had to pay.

[ She realizes she's talking in half-truths and vague inferences. It's just too long of a story to tell, right now. ]

I'm doing it because... I failed, and my friends fell. Because in my grief, I pushed everyone I cared about away, until it was too late. Because I was his weapon for far too long. I was...whatever he wanted me to be. [ Her lip twitches. At the thought of all she did for him. At the thought of everything he made her do. ] If I don't, if I stop trying to make it better for a second, then...

...then what the fuck's left of me?

[ It's punctuated harshly, but all that's in her is exhaustion. Keeping strong for the other lost Rangers--for Grace, for Ari, and now for all of these people--it's taken a toll on her. Especially with seeing that bow again. ]

[ ~~kim says fuck~~

Just because he's not a practicing psychologist doesn't mean he doesn't get practice in at acting like a psychologist. He's rusty in places, but by God, this is something he knows how to do. Mostly.

Bear in mind, this is the same man who caught a rat with his bare hands on the first day of this kidnapping.]

You're blaming yourself for stuff he caused. For stuff he did. Your grief was his fault. Your friends being hurt was his fault.

And him turning out to be an asshole in your dimension? His fault. I- look, I don't wanna make this about me, but I know- there's at least one dimension out there where I am a horrible piece of shit. And I don't care what it was that made that version of me turn out like that- and I don't want anyone to waste their time trying to fix him. And I... I feel like the version of that guy from the other timeline wouldn't want that either, for the version of him that hurt you- and others.

[Granted, the movie version of Venkman isn't quite as awful as the man who hurt Kim, but some aspects... Well. There's a bit more in common there than Venkman wants to admit, and he hopes Kim never watches that damn movie.]

... You need to let yourself rest. You don't have to be strong all the time, Kim.

[Venkman knows he's not hitting every curveball, here- and he knows he's not gonna fix this- somehow get her to completely accept everything he's putting down, cure herself of all this baggage overnight. If anything, he might plant the seed for her to slowly but surely figure out how to move past some of this. That's enough for now.]

...He looked like such a damn sweet kid.

[ For this to be the part she focuses on. ]

I wanted to save him. Even after he killed Jason, and Billy, and Matt...and so many others. But, at least...in another reality, he made sure to keep the other me safe.

[ It's so disjointed. There's so much she'll have to explain, later. There's so much she owes. But, for now. Kim sighs and lets her shoulders relax...at least a little bit. ]

It really wasn't Oksana- Villanelle, whoever she was. It was everything happening at once. She probably had no idea what she was even doing, besides being lonely and desperate.

One version of him turning out alright doesn't negate the fact that one version hurt you, Kim, and so many others. The fact that you wanted to save the one you knew is admirable, but that was hurting you too- it is hurting you.

[Still, he notices the way she relaxes ever so slightly. At least he's done something right.]

Just 'cause it's not her fault for not knowing- or mine for bringing up some of those same memories- [Because he knows, now, that he almost certainly did-] - that doesn't mean it doesn't suck.

No, I know. They didn't really talk about this before, because who has therapy for bad future counterparts, right?

[ She sighs. ]

...Thank you. [ There's not much else she can say. ]

Well, good news is, I've played therapist for everything from vengeful spirits to half-human children born from demon cults.

[So if anyone can help unpack all that... Somehow, Venkman's at least in the running.]

Hey, no problem.

[He considers the bow for a moment. Thoughtful. Critical- not of her, but of the weapon itself.]

... Are you still gonna keep it around?

[ She gives a humorless snort and goes quiet. Then, she walks over and picks up the bow. ]

...Yeah. It... It used to be mine, before...everything else. He turned it into this, but... I still want it to be mine. I want to do some good with it.

[He hums a little.]

You wanna reclaim it, then. Make it your own again.

[There's a pause, before Venkman claps his hands together.]

How about this- we give it a makeover. Make it look nothing like it does right now- either so it looks like it did before, or we just completely revamp it. Make it its own, new bow. Your bow.

...You wanna completely redo the Bow of Darkness?

[ Yes, it's called the Bow of Darkness, you have to understand, he was a fucking edgelord- ]

I think I'd kind of like that. ...Sort of impossible to make it look like it did, that was a handmade wooden one. But...a different coat of paint.

[His voice takes on a far more chipper quality. It doesn't sound forced, but it's clearly an attempt to lighten the mood- maybe even get her to laugh.]

Now, see, there's part of your problem- Bow of Darkness. That just doesn't sound right. This baby needs a new name, a new paint job, maybe we can take a sander or something to some of the little design details, add our own-

I dunno, I mean, I've never tried to design a bow. As long as it doesn't screw up the weight and make you shoot at a wrong angle it should be fine if we bedazzle the shit out of it, right?

It should be fine. As long as it doesn't get too wild. I never went fancy, when I made my own. We kind of had to take what we could get. Rebels in a war, all that.

[ It's a smile--a small one, but it's something. ]

...I never named it that, you know. That guy... He's a total asshole.

Yeah- I kinda guessed. Both that he named it and the fact that he's an asshole.

But now it's your bow, not his. And we're gonna make it beautiful, damnit.

[If Kim doesn't stop him this bow is gonna look like a hot mess- he was only partially kidding about bedazzling it. But maybe that's what it needs to be.

But probably not. Here's hoping she has some eye for design.]

It is, isn't it?

[ Now, this may be strange. But, Kim walks forward and...actually hugs Venkman. ]

Thank you.

[There's a moment where Venkman almost tenses up, purely from shock. Not just because he's not expecting Kim to be a hugger, either. He's... Ok, obviously he's been hugged before, plenty of times, but the list of living beings who willingly hug him on a regular basis is an incredibly shallow pool- three of them are romantic partners, one is a ghost made of slime...

The point is, he's definitely not expecting it, but he's not at all going to reject it. Venkman tentatively puts his arms around her, relaxing after a moment or two.]

[ It doesn't last very long. Kimberly's...well, she hasn't been a hugger, not for a long time. However, Tanya and Ari...and the rest of the Rangers under her care, they've been chipping away at those walls she's put up.

And honestly, sometimes it's very, very tiring to keep them like that.

So, she'll pull away, after a few long moments. ]

...This means a lot to me.

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a cruel romance [night 8]

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