Maya & Arthur | Circles
Feb. 6th, 2024 11:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsMaya and Arthur go for a walk and reconnect, mostly discussing Arthur’s recent challenges.
As luck would happen to have it, it was a perfect day. Excellent for taking a walk. Great for sharing recent history. Pity that there was so much between the two individuals out for a stroll — so much that it would have taken much more time than the lap around the lake planned.
[He openly mocks at what I did, but what about him?] Arthur signed frustratedly, even though his ASL was out of practice. He spoke the words aloud both for emphasis and to make up for what had to be the equivalent of a terrible accent. The last word was a sharp point. The man shook his blond head.
[Oh. Alex says hey too.] That afterthought had more of a smile attached to it. [And that he's sorry about your foot.]
It was slower going than what would normally be their working speed given she was using a mobility scooter but she’d refused to stay indoors for a moment longer, not when she needed out so badly.
[I’m sorry about my foot too.] Maya signed, and then gave Arthur a grin. [Sounds like Haller is getting on your nerves. I didn’t think you had those.]
The man paused at that, and it took him a second to respond. "I always had . . . " He caught himself only being auditory, however, and the self correction was actually a relief. His heart was pounding, for no reason he could identify, like he'd be running. [I suffered a brain injury. Seems like I grew some due to super blood after.]
For some folks, it was easier to deflect.
Somewhere nearby a perfectly healthy tree fell over without any clear sign as to why, unprompted, to unsettle the natural order of the forest. Birds took to agitated flight. No one heard it.
[Haller was not fond of what I said on the journals.] Arthur's statement was true enough, if lacking exactly what the problem was.
[Seems like there were a lot of people ‘not fond’ of what you said on the journals,] she replied.
Maya wasn’t one to let people get away with half-statements, or deflections. If Arthur wanted to discuss Haller with her, she wasn’t about to allow him to merely complain to her.
This actually got a laugh from the other man. It wasn't a belly thing, but the chuckle seemed to offer Arthur some relief. [No? Unless you were told something different. Everyone has been too forgiving, but] . . .
There wasn't a great stall in sign for thinking that Arthur knew, but his hands hung in question. [Maya, what's the difference between an act and a lie?]
[How it feels.] Maya’s sign was immediate, barely having to think of her answer as they continued to walk. She had to wonder why he was asking though.
[Are you a liar, Arthur?]
[No,] his response was equally quick, [I'm a performer.]
That last part had his usual flourish to it, but Arthur sucked on his teeth. He wanted to articulate this carefully. [I've had to take up a new hobby. You see, I've had a lot of time.] His eyes met Maya's, quietly asking her to play along. If just for now.
She did. [What hobby?]
Maya gave him a curious glance, the strolling pace they’d taken up just enough to allow her exercise but not aggravate her recovery. She wasn’t sure exactly what Arthur was trying to say, but she’d known him long enough to give him time.
[You've been doing things differently, it’s a change.]
[I’ve taken up thinking. So, changes all around.] Arthur smiled sadly, but that was the joke. Always, a joke. She'd knocked down all the pins, and that meant something.
[Different, how?] Time for him to ask a more honest question.
[No.] Maya gave him a surprisingly hard look but continued to walk at an even, if slightly limping pace. [You already know. I’m not answering questions just because you want feedback so you can better suit a new role. What are you looking for, Arthur?]
[Everyone, Maya,] and he emphasized his unhappiness with broadening gestures, [Everyone, is shouting that question. I don’t know.]
Maya frowned, and finally stopped walking to give him a thoroughly questioning look. She wasn’t normally a person who comforted others, she wasn’t good at it. But.
She opened her arms slightly, and gestured for him to move closer.
He fell into it, openly. Regardless of Arthur Kenton's current emotional crisis, he was still a man shaped like a golden retriever. What did they really desire more than a belly scratching?
[I'm sorry,] he offered, [Everyone wants me to choose. It was just so easy to be the man they expected. I'm broken.] It was an admission only made easier by their shared history. [Anyway. Blah blah blah and everything, I gave my powers away to fight death and I'm a wreck. What about France?] He used the sign where an okay symbol was turned outward and inverted.
Maya frowned as she watched his sign, and then enfolded him in her arms as she switched to spoken English.
“France was restful once people stopped shooting me. You’re changing the subject.”
Arthur's tone was suddenly indignant as he struggled against the embrace with only a passing level of effort. "Ugh, this is why I kept Alex around, you know? You were always too much for one of us alone." He laughed at his own joke, because someone had to, before sobering. "Okay. Okay. Ask me something more straight forward. That’s what I can answer.”
“Why is defining what you want so difficult for you?”
Maya couldn’t be more direct than that, really. The fact he felt her was broken had been a little bit of a shock. He’d always just been Arthur to her, comforting and a little odd at times but kind, and somewhat of a rock.
To see him floundering, it was sobering.
"Maya, have I ever told you about my past? The truth of it all? I . . . I'm afraid that I’m not a person. I'm a shadow."
“I never asked,” Maya noted gently as she spied one of the benches that had been installed along the walking paths and guided him to it, pushing him down when he might have resisted. “Tell me what you mean.”
They settled on the bench, and it all came out. The early career, the fated contract, the brainwashing. The rescue after. The end of the world. Death, both what should have been on a train and what had happened recently. The Arthur who was left after this confession was hollow, and drained.
"So I've been playing a part this whole time. I just can't find who I am under all . . ." He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Who am I? The act and the lie of it. It took saving one man to break me."
And there it was. It was easier saying it this time out loud, not in accusation or anger.
All he could do was continue to try.
As luck would happen to have it, it was a perfect day. Excellent for taking a walk. Great for sharing recent history. Pity that there was so much between the two individuals out for a stroll — so much that it would have taken much more time than the lap around the lake planned.
[He openly mocks at what I did, but what about him?] Arthur signed frustratedly, even though his ASL was out of practice. He spoke the words aloud both for emphasis and to make up for what had to be the equivalent of a terrible accent. The last word was a sharp point. The man shook his blond head.
[Oh. Alex says hey too.] That afterthought had more of a smile attached to it. [And that he's sorry about your foot.]
It was slower going than what would normally be their working speed given she was using a mobility scooter but she’d refused to stay indoors for a moment longer, not when she needed out so badly.
[I’m sorry about my foot too.] Maya signed, and then gave Arthur a grin. [Sounds like Haller is getting on your nerves. I didn’t think you had those.]
The man paused at that, and it took him a second to respond. "I always had . . . " He caught himself only being auditory, however, and the self correction was actually a relief. His heart was pounding, for no reason he could identify, like he'd be running. [I suffered a brain injury. Seems like I grew some due to super blood after.]
For some folks, it was easier to deflect.
Somewhere nearby a perfectly healthy tree fell over without any clear sign as to why, unprompted, to unsettle the natural order of the forest. Birds took to agitated flight. No one heard it.
[Haller was not fond of what I said on the journals.] Arthur's statement was true enough, if lacking exactly what the problem was.
[Seems like there were a lot of people ‘not fond’ of what you said on the journals,] she replied.
Maya wasn’t one to let people get away with half-statements, or deflections. If Arthur wanted to discuss Haller with her, she wasn’t about to allow him to merely complain to her.
This actually got a laugh from the other man. It wasn't a belly thing, but the chuckle seemed to offer Arthur some relief. [No? Unless you were told something different. Everyone has been too forgiving, but] . . .
There wasn't a great stall in sign for thinking that Arthur knew, but his hands hung in question. [Maya, what's the difference between an act and a lie?]
[How it feels.] Maya’s sign was immediate, barely having to think of her answer as they continued to walk. She had to wonder why he was asking though.
[Are you a liar, Arthur?]
[No,] his response was equally quick, [I'm a performer.]
That last part had his usual flourish to it, but Arthur sucked on his teeth. He wanted to articulate this carefully. [I've had to take up a new hobby. You see, I've had a lot of time.] His eyes met Maya's, quietly asking her to play along. If just for now.
She did. [What hobby?]
Maya gave him a curious glance, the strolling pace they’d taken up just enough to allow her exercise but not aggravate her recovery. She wasn’t sure exactly what Arthur was trying to say, but she’d known him long enough to give him time.
[You've been doing things differently, it’s a change.]
[I’ve taken up thinking. So, changes all around.] Arthur smiled sadly, but that was the joke. Always, a joke. She'd knocked down all the pins, and that meant something.
[Different, how?] Time for him to ask a more honest question.
[No.] Maya gave him a surprisingly hard look but continued to walk at an even, if slightly limping pace. [You already know. I’m not answering questions just because you want feedback so you can better suit a new role. What are you looking for, Arthur?]
[Everyone, Maya,] and he emphasized his unhappiness with broadening gestures, [Everyone, is shouting that question. I don’t know.]
Maya frowned, and finally stopped walking to give him a thoroughly questioning look. She wasn’t normally a person who comforted others, she wasn’t good at it. But.
She opened her arms slightly, and gestured for him to move closer.
He fell into it, openly. Regardless of Arthur Kenton's current emotional crisis, he was still a man shaped like a golden retriever. What did they really desire more than a belly scratching?
[I'm sorry,] he offered, [Everyone wants me to choose. It was just so easy to be the man they expected. I'm broken.] It was an admission only made easier by their shared history. [Anyway. Blah blah blah and everything, I gave my powers away to fight death and I'm a wreck. What about France?] He used the sign where an okay symbol was turned outward and inverted.
Maya frowned as she watched his sign, and then enfolded him in her arms as she switched to spoken English.
“France was restful once people stopped shooting me. You’re changing the subject.”
Arthur's tone was suddenly indignant as he struggled against the embrace with only a passing level of effort. "Ugh, this is why I kept Alex around, you know? You were always too much for one of us alone." He laughed at his own joke, because someone had to, before sobering. "Okay. Okay. Ask me something more straight forward. That’s what I can answer.”
“Why is defining what you want so difficult for you?”
Maya couldn’t be more direct than that, really. The fact he felt her was broken had been a little bit of a shock. He’d always just been Arthur to her, comforting and a little odd at times but kind, and somewhat of a rock.
To see him floundering, it was sobering.
"Maya, have I ever told you about my past? The truth of it all? I . . . I'm afraid that I’m not a person. I'm a shadow."
“I never asked,” Maya noted gently as she spied one of the benches that had been installed along the walking paths and guided him to it, pushing him down when he might have resisted. “Tell me what you mean.”
They settled on the bench, and it all came out. The early career, the fated contract, the brainwashing. The rescue after. The end of the world. Death, both what should have been on a train and what had happened recently. The Arthur who was left after this confession was hollow, and drained.
"So I've been playing a part this whole time. I just can't find who I am under all . . ." He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Who am I? The act and the lie of it. It took saving one man to break me."
And there it was. It was easier saying it this time out loud, not in accusation or anger.
All he could do was continue to try.
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Date: 2024-02-06 10:38 pm (UTC)