[ dextera is relieved to hear his brother’s voice, at least. he can’t explain what’s wrong with him, as he is—it’s just that the archangel’s death and return has set him so terribly, hopelessly on edge. ]
Ah... very well. Wait for me, just a little bit, and we will talk about him and find out what you must do, then.
[ His agenda is deterrence, but he's weak to his brother. He'll go silent until he finds himself at his brother's residence, trying to open the door instead of knocking. ]
[ dextera has at least left the door open for his brother, knowing that sinistra has no social graces, and he’s waiting nearby anyway when he arrives. immediately throwing his arms around his twin, dextera breathes in deep—the archangel’s church, more than anything, has unsettled him.
yet his wings, small as they are, are hung up on the wall near the door. he’s been wearing them. ]
[ He had almost expected the immediate hug. It surprises him, just a bit, but he's quick to respond and embrace him. They can still sense each other's stress on some level and so Dextera's troubles shake in his chest, as well.
He presses his hand to the back of his brother's head. He always hopes his brother cannot smell that man on him, especially now that the Order is being resurrected here. Things are complicated enough as it is. ]
[ thankfully for the both of them, dextera is not looking for the scent of the archangel. he merely buries his face in sinistra’s shoulder, taking what he can. in many ways, he considers himself an independent person now, but his brother’s presence has regressed him. the archangel, too, bears that burden. ]
[ He's right. He very much doesn't. For the most part. But he can force some sympathy for his brother's plight. It must be hard to have so much space in your heart occupied by a man like that. ]
You have been under his thumb a long time... I cannot expect you to erase that attachment easily. So. It is fine.
[ is it wrong if he doesn’t want to erase the attachment? dextera doesn’t know what he wants. he wants to be normal with the archangel, whatever that looks like. if it’s even possible. ]
…
[ he manages to extract himself from his brother after another minute or so, still breathing like he’s troubled by something. ]
[ dextera doesn’t know how to reckon with the archangel’s death and return. it isn’t compatible with his understanding of the archangel—and he doesn’t know how it happened in the first place, either. ]
Is that this world? Is that him? I don’t know what to think.
[ It better be him. He doesn't want to reconcile working with a fascimile of that man. Their arrangement is already detestable despite how beneficial it is.]
I... I cannot answer for sure. But I would trust what you sense of him. To me... It seems to be the same man.
[ dextera’s grasp on life and death is already so tenuous. he’s never died and felt like himself when he came back—even in that town before, his reformation had been imperfect. there are still parts of himself that he feels like he’s missing.
but he can never ask the archangel about that.
finally, moving slowly as if weighed down by his own thoughts, dextera retreats further into his apartment. he wants to go back to bed, and he wants his brother with him. although for some people, it might seem rude that he walks away wordlessly… they’re twins, after all. there’s an understanding there. ]
[ He can't help but feel sad for his brother. What a person to have weighing down your heart. What a person to be burdened by.
He follows him instinctively. He has no need to be asked or told. He was brought here for comfort, so he wants to stay by his side. His brother's presence comforts him too... Comforts him for things, right now, that he can't admit.
He doesn't know why he threw a fit at the Archangel. Cried at him and yelled in anger. Why he'd missed his presence in that apartment. He's so frustrated, but swallowing that down is easy in the wake of his brother's confusion and despair. Somehow, the responsibility of the older sibling is enough to push it all comfortably out of his mind.]
[ dextera slides easily into his messy, unmade bed. it’s clear he spends a lot of time here, and at some point, even if not now, it was meant for two people. that means there’s plenty of room for the both of them to sprawl out, if they like, but dextera knows how they both tend to sleep.
even if they haven’t spent that much time together here. ]
…brother.
[ he opens the blankets, inviting his brother in. ]
[ Sinistra takes the queue and crawls in beside him. This is what he's wanted, isn't it? To be beside him again? So why does his heart feel heavy as he lays down beside his brother, draping a protective arm over his shoulder.]
I will stay here with you, ok? Right here. Like before.
[ dextera closes his eyes, quietly miserable under the weight of his brother’s arm. it’s not enough. he feels like the only way to be satisfied is to be crushed. ]
Should I have been different? Was there something I could have done?
and what has he learned, he wonders? all he’s done since the archangel arrived is fallen back into old patterns, old habits. he’s forgotten every lesson he should have held onto and replaced them all with desperation. ]
…he said that he loved me.
[ whether he meant to or not, he impressed some responsibility onto dextera. ]
[ There's a soft growl of a sigh in his throat hearing that. It's not like he doesn't know. The Archangel tells him all the time that he loves him. Because he's a willing stand in for his brother. He hoped he would absorb those declarations for this brother to protect his heart. Their heart. But it seems the Archangel had chosen to be bold regardless. ]
If he could get you under his thumb, I am sure he would tell you anything. Even if it is true... I feel like it is how one loves a possession, not a person.
[ Not that he knows anything about love... But he knows how the Archangel looks at him, how he speaks when he's laying his brother's visage onto Sinistra's body. He can't see it as the kind of love he would want to bear from another in any other circumstance.
Sinistra, despite his self loathing, only wants to be cherished after all. ]
[ logically, dextera is aware of this. the archangel says what he needs to say in order to get what he wants. that’s how he ran the order of malkuth, and that’s how he manipulated dextera when he had no memories. the only thing protecting dextera now is that the archangel still thinks he’s suffering from amnesia.
it’s not a lie he can keep up for long. ]
Yes… Yes, I think so too, and yet…
[ dextera can’t stop himself.
he curls against his brother, breathing out a wet sigh for the tears that he’s sure won’t actually come. ]
[ his poor brother. He's so burdened by that man. Unfortunately, this has proven killing him would be impermanent. Even if he does end up snuffing him out in a fit, he'd still come back obnoxious as ever.
He pulls his brother close to his chest and presses a kiss against the crown of his head, trying to comfort him gently. Trying to be a real big brother like he knows he should be.]
In your heart.... He has taken up much space. His strings are still wrapped around it... Tightly. It is hard to untangle it, I suppose.
[ the archangel is a puppetmaster. that’s a role he’s always filled well. ]
There was a time when I thought I could escape him.
[ dextera had become so sure of himself, but he realizes now that maybe it had all been a farce. he simply tricked himself into individuality, and that had been a fool’s errand. denying the archangel completely simply isn’t in his blood, and even the absolute god seems to know this about him—even alice, even eliza. he’s intertwined with the archangel in a way they could never be. ]
He needs me. That should be a power I have over him, but I just feel…
[ it's hard not to insinuate that that man should just jump off a cliff, but it's what he wants to do. He gives Dextera a gentle squeeze.]
He has always needed you and always had power over you... Even from my limited view in that place... I knew. Your dynamic is unchanging. Only your awareness has grown.
[ the way sinistra puts it is so accurate that dextera flinches. it’s true. their dynamic hasn’t changed at all, because dextera knows no other way to be. ]
No, it is not... if he is the one in power, should he not be the one to change to fix it? I would think so. I only wish you would not be so close to his spines. If he were to prick you... I am not sure I can heal you.
[ his brother is so reasonable. maybe this is what sitting in a tower for a decade will do for you—for as much as he knows his brother is imperfect and stunted, he’s wise. his backbone has been forged out of necessity. dextera is barely holding himself together. ]
I understand… what Doctor Angelicus must have felt.
[ love and fear. some hate. and so many other things he can’t begin to describe. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i meant july but we’ll accept that as something i’ve done
It’s him. I just don’t know what to do.
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Ah... very well. Wait for me, just a little bit, and we will talk about him and find out what you must do, then.
[ His agenda is deterrence, but he's weak to his brother. He'll go silent until he finds himself at his brother's residence, trying to open the door instead of knocking. ]
( action )
yet his wings, small as they are, are hung up on the wall near the door. he’s been wearing them. ]
Brother.
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He presses his hand to the back of his brother's head. He always hopes his brother cannot smell that man on him, especially now that the Order is being resurrected here. Things are complicated enough as it is. ]
I made it... I am here now, little brother.
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I’m sorry. I know you don’t care for him…
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You have been under his thumb a long time... I cannot expect you to erase that attachment easily. So. It is fine.
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…
[ he manages to extract himself from his brother after another minute or so, still breathing like he’s troubled by something. ]
He really died.
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So he did. But, somehow, he came back, too.
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Is that this world? Is that him? I don’t know what to think.
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I... I cannot answer for sure. But I would trust what you sense of him. To me... It seems to be the same man.
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but he can never ask the archangel about that.
finally, moving slowly as if weighed down by his own thoughts, dextera retreats further into his apartment. he wants to go back to bed, and he wants his brother with him. although for some people, it might seem rude that he walks away wordlessly… they’re twins, after all. there’s an understanding there. ]
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He follows him instinctively. He has no need to be asked or told. He was brought here for comfort, so he wants to stay by his side. His brother's presence comforts him too... Comforts him for things, right now, that he can't admit.
He doesn't know why he threw a fit at the Archangel. Cried at him and yelled in anger. Why he'd missed his presence in that apartment. He's so frustrated, but swallowing that down is easy in the wake of his brother's confusion and despair. Somehow, the responsibility of the older sibling is enough to push it all comfortably out of his mind.]
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even if they haven’t spent that much time together here. ]
…brother.
[ he opens the blankets, inviting his brother in. ]
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I will stay here with you, ok? Right here. Like before.
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Should I have been different? Was there something I could have done?
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No... That man is responsible for himself. He has to know how to survive on his own here. Just like you have learned.
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and what has he learned, he wonders? all he’s done since the archangel arrived is fallen back into old patterns, old habits. he’s forgotten every lesson he should have held onto and replaced them all with desperation. ]
…he said that he loved me.
[ whether he meant to or not, he impressed some responsibility onto dextera. ]
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If he could get you under his thumb, I am sure he would tell you anything. Even if it is true... I feel like it is how one loves a possession, not a person.
[ Not that he knows anything about love... But he knows how the Archangel looks at him, how he speaks when he's laying his brother's visage onto Sinistra's body. He can't see it as the kind of love he would want to bear from another in any other circumstance.
Sinistra, despite his self loathing, only wants to be cherished after all. ]
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it’s not a lie he can keep up for long. ]
Yes… Yes, I think so too, and yet…
[ dextera can’t stop himself.
he curls against his brother, breathing out a wet sigh for the tears that he’s sure won’t actually come. ]
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He pulls his brother close to his chest and presses a kiss against the crown of his head, trying to comfort him gently. Trying to be a real big brother like he knows he should be.]
In your heart.... He has taken up much space. His strings are still wrapped around it... Tightly. It is hard to untangle it, I suppose.
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There was a time when I thought I could escape him.
[ dextera had become so sure of himself, but he realizes now that maybe it had all been a farce. he simply tricked himself into individuality, and that had been a fool’s errand. denying the archangel completely simply isn’t in his blood, and even the absolute god seems to know this about him—even alice, even eliza. he’s intertwined with the archangel in a way they could never be. ]
He needs me. That should be a power I have over him, but I just feel…
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[ it's hard not to insinuate that that man should just jump off a cliff, but it's what he wants to do. He gives Dextera a gentle squeeze.]
He has always needed you and always had power over you... Even from my limited view in that place... I knew. Your dynamic is unchanging. Only your awareness has grown.
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…is it my fault?
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I understand… what Doctor Angelicus must have felt.
[ love and fear. some hate. and so many other things he can’t begin to describe. ]
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