Open Post 001

[2020mod]

• Step one: start a thread in this post!
• Step two: specify who the thread is for (or open) in this post!
• Step three: make people reply to this post!
• AND THAT'S THE WAY YOU DO IT.


And don't forget, there's still the ooc discussion post! And nothing needs to be contained to this post! Create new logs to your heart's content! This AU is yours, so have at it!


musebox • rules • character list

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[viced]

The question stopped him, and he examined Edward a bit more carefully. Took in the lines, the strain. He'd had his own share of troubles, the push and the constant whispers for corruption, but what had Edward gone through, to ask a question like that? He relaxed a fraction, only a fraction, still wary.

The whispers were what kept him grounded, reminding him that he has to function, and machines always had a purpose. He couldn't let emotions, even the little ones get in the way of that. His hand tightened around the gun, but it was still at his side. Not until he knew that he wasn't in trouble.

"What happened?" he didn't respond to the question, Edward knew his particular experience, probably one of the few people who actually did. He didn't need to speak on it further.

[enigmaestro]

"I was captured, Mitchell. I was captured, alive, and I was kept alive long after they finished interrogation." He leveled a look, the intensity of it a bulldozer between them. "What do you think happened?"

The tension surged. His fists clenched at his side, a motion mirroring Mitchell and the gun. The look that shot from Eddie's eyes could only be described as smoldering -- perhaps even hateful. Something that shot out and consumed him.

He swallowed, and closed his eyes. His lips moved soundlessly, to himself, all to himself. Until:

"What do you think happened."

[viced]

"Shit," and it was harsh and broken when he actually spoke a few minutes later, watching his old friend for a long moment. He couldn't even put together how it would have been, how much would it have taken for him to actually break? How long had it taken Edward? How much could one person take before they crashed and burned, and gave everything just for it to stop? He wouldn't be able to ever say that Edward wasn't strong.

"And you're telling me," he broached, finally breaking eye contact to look down at the gun, and then he slid it into the back of his waistband, emotions finally weighing out over the cold logic, long enough for him to make the decision.

"You--" he paused, shaking his head. No, not yet. He wouldn't ask him what he wanted yet.

"But you're telling me this. You're telling me, which means that something's changed," he paused, under the intensity, the moment, it could snap at any time. "Are you alright? Will you be alright?"

[enigmaestro]

Edward cringed at the questioning, the words bolting like bullets.

"Don't. Don't do that, Mitchell." The pointed syllables in his voice were pained. Punctured. "Even right now, do you understand? Even right now every impulse I have wants you dead."

But they didn't belong to him, he knew. These thoughts didn't belong to him.

"Don't pity me." It came out a growl. His mouth was twisted in a sneer and he took a step closer to Mitchell. Another step. That caged look never left him, not even in his spurts of aggression, it haunted him in his shadow. “That isn’t why I’ve come, for pity. I can see it in your face.”

His fists clenched. Again. And relax. He stood his ground, his shoulders slouched.

"I -- I just don't. Know."

[viced]

"But you're not going to, are you? You came here, with no weapon, nothing that I can hear, and while I know you're smarter than that, you came in here," he paused, vocalizing the thoughts out loud, even as he knew Edward had done this on purpose.

"Fuck!" and now was the time for Mitchell to turn his back, holding his palms to his forehead, coiled tight with stress and worry. The amount of what Edward called pity for frustration, and worry.

"Edward, what do you need me to do? I know," he stopped, and then started again. "I know you didn't come here without purpose, whether it's to kill me, or if it's to do something else, but my question is what?"