tushanshu_logs

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Characters: Tarrlok and Noatak
Date: June 15
Location: Noatak's Suite
Situation: Tarrlok went to see his future and found out that he and Noatak are dead. Now he's going to either break the news to his brother or find out if he knew all along.
Warnings/Rating: Discussion of dead/suicide.

[As much as he wasn't looking forward to this discussion, he had to talk about it with someone and, well, his brother was the only one in the same situation. He had remained surprisingly calm after finding out, perhaps because he was in shock, perhaps because he felt he deserved it. He wouldn't have ended his own life if he didn't, right?

Either way, he had to tell Noatak. He didn't want to keep something like that from him if he didn't know and Tarrlok figured it more likely that he did know and had been hiding it, anyways. The amount of trust he had in his brother was...not exceptional.

He took a deep breath and knocked at the door. If Noatak didn't want to answer, he would break it down at this point, but it wasn't often that one of them actually sought the other out unless there was some urgent matter.]

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[ Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your perspective, Noatak was on the first most floor of his apartment and close enough to the main entrance to hear the knock. Call it intuition, or because he recognized that demanding yet formal way his brother came to call, but he had an idea who it was on the other side. ]

It's open.

[ His voice was had a subtle but definite slur to it; his intonation slowed and heavy with drink. Since discovering his fate some two or so months prior, Noatak had picked up something of a drinking problem. Though he had no problem drinking, in fact he was quite good at it; he discovered his limits early on and had unintentionally amassed enough alcohol rations to supply his new vice. The problem was that any time spent alone was taken as an opportunity to drink himself into a stupor lest he dwell on his own demise.

Only four fingers of whiskey in, he still had enough of himself left to sit up straight in his chair and greet his brother with some dignity. ]

[He would've lectured his brother on the drinking, but now wasn't the time for that, and he was having a hard time caring about anything Noatak chose to do in his own time, given that right now he didn't give a single damn about this place. He'd rather just go home, face his death, and be done with it so he could finally get some rest. But that wasn't an option here.]

...I spoke with the Emperor today. Or, the Commander, in her place. I know what you did to me. I know what I did to you.

[That's about as gentle as he can manage to be about it, mostly because he's still suspicious.] ...Did you know?

[ Noatak numbly motioned to the chair catty-corned to his own then made for the bottle on the side table beside him. There wasn't nay indication he was even listening to his brother's poor attempts at masking his indignation and despondence as he spoke while amber coloured drink poured into his glass over the socially acceptable amount. ]

Why don't you just stop speaking so obliquely for both our sakes.

[ He took a pull before adding, ]

What do you think?

Edited 2013-06-16 21:29 (UTC)

Must you do that while I'm speaking with you? [He didn't much appreciate the drinking, not during this particular conversation, at least.]

Why didn't you tell me?

[ Noatak pulled back and polished off what was left in his glass in response to the first question. The glass was momentarily the only sound in the room when he slammed it down on the side table.

Already starting to sway in his chair, Noatak leaned heavily against the padded arm rest. ]

Assuming you were coming here under the impression I was ignorant to our fate let me ask you the same question. How were you planning on breaking it to me we explosively ended our own lives in a fit of pique as a...product of my machinations?

I would have been honest, because despite our differences I at least think you're an adult who can handle truth and not some weak child that needs to be shielded.

I ended both our lives because you were too dangerous and I had nothing left to live for. Plain and simple. If I had the choice, I'd go back right now, because literally the only thing I've got left is my bending. But it doesn't make up for having no power, no wealth, no influence to speak of, and a brother that despises me. But I understand that you didn't want death as I did, so I just came here to tell you that I'll leave you alone if that's what you want.

Because saying something would have broached a conversation I myself didn't want to have for it would have forced a measure of self-awareness I was, am not, prepared for. To believe I didn't want to die that day, or at the very least not so as much as you apparently did was too much. [ His voice felt weighted down and his sight was beginning to blur by something other than whiskey. Noatak propped one arm arm and buried his chin into the palm of his hand. ]

However, forced to watch from a different perspective told me that such an assumption was only that- a false hope.

[ He knew he was crying, and maybe any other time would have wryly commented that his brother should be chastising him for indulging such weakness. ]

I never said anything because I knew it would be admitting I wanted- I want to die.

...Why?

[And that was something he didn't expect to hear. Because he didn't actually have Noatak with him for most of his life, his perception of his brother was based entirely on what he remembered as a child. Noatak was someone strong, someone who would never back down, someone who had no tolerance for the weak, someone who never let his feelings overwhelm him.

Noatak was too strong to get to this point on his own. The only think Tarrlok could think of that would put his own brother in such a state was his own failure. Tarrlok was not happy with what Noatak had become, and was angry at him more often than not, but he couldn't help but think that his decision to stay home with his mother was what led to it. That one incident he spent his whole life trying to redeem himself for.]

...I was never a good brother to you. Despite all my efforts, I never got any better, either. At my best I still wasn't good enough, and I'm sorry. But you have a second chance here, so - just take it. Make me the villain in this story if that's what you need to convince everyone else. It's the last good thing I can try and do for you.

Because some of us know our limits; because some of us know that's it better to be than to beat yourself bloody against an impossible standard set by a couple of boys.

[ Then he nodded to the leash around his wrist; he knew Tarrlok still took it as an insult or as some signifier that his brother had been chained down like a rabid dog and made an example of. Tarrlok could not have jumped to a conclusion farther from the the truth if he tried. ]

In all honesty I just wanted all temptation before letting myself fall deeper into something worse knowing I have nothing to go back to.

[ Noatak leaned over with elbows propped on his knees and buried his face in his hands. Here he could smell the whiskey wafting from his own breath in a cloying vapour that stuck to him. ]

You selfish...selfish prick. [ That last pull of drink was finally starting to sink in and stick to his cognizance and loosen his tongue. ] I'm sooner to cast you as any villain here than you are to actually doing something with yourself than wallowing in your own guilt in addition to mine. You know how the story ends and even if I got there first doesn't inspire me to change it to a happier ending. Not even if I tried dragging you kicking and screaming to some kind of understanding.

Dying did your self-aggrandizing no favours; I want to move on, and you want to be a ghost suspended here like dust choking us with my sins. But at the end of the day you pulled that veritable trigger and there isn't any kind of closure I can give you for that unless sitting here watching me drink myself into stupor and cry like a child boosts your mood.

How am I supposed to move on, Noatak? I've never even been able to forgive myself for being born, for being his son - let alone anything else I've done. Especially not for abandoning you.

[He didn't want to talk about the binding, because he was still angry about it. Mostly because Noatak was less capable of defending himself now, and because he still didn't trust that girl to have power over him and not abuse it.]

Actually doing something with myself would have to mean that I believe myself capable of being a better person than I have been, and after everything that's happened - I don't. I just don't. I don't care about your sins anymore, Noatak. I would tell you I forgive you but if we're being honest I never really blamed you in the first place and believe me, I tried to. The sins I'm choking myself on are mine and mine alone.

I will let you do what you want and I'll stop getting in the way. I don't know what else you want from me. If there's anything at all I can do for you, just tell me what it is already, because I'm too tired to keep guessing.

I can't absolve you of either of those imagined sins, and you know it and it burns you that neither of can't just wipe away the circumstances of how we came to be.

[ Noatak looked up at his brother with red-rimmed eyes. ]

What I want? I've been telling you since the moment we got here: What I want if for us to stop going at each others throats the second the other tries to step out of the roles we made for ourselves. The world might as well have been destroyed for all the good it would do in terms of moving on, but unlike you I am trying.

All I want is my brother to stop looking back before he trips over himself in his own self-flagellation. How many different ways do you want me to tell you that I don't blame you for what happened?

When I said I'll leave you alone, that meant I'll stop going at your throat, too.

If you think I don't want to try, you're wrong, but...just because I want something doesn't mean it's right. Ever since father started training us I've spent a lot of time thinking on what's right and what's wrong. And I've tried to do the right thing, but it's always ended up being the wrong thing in the end. At what point does it stop being worthwhile to try again? How many chances can I take before I become a selfish bastard who can't see his own limits?

It just seems like the best thing to do is accept that I might be too broken to ever be better, even if it's not my fault. I don't want to keep hurting everyone.

When you admit you need others. What separated us from him- where exactly is the line drawn between our father and us? Don't tell me it's trying to overcome or subvert what he wanted of us because we both know how that panned out. We both tried to be play the saviour in place of the Avatar we felt betrayed by albeit in different ways but that's how it went. That's how it might still go down if we don't look around and take in that this border this...this whatever interoperating us from the finality of death has to offer.

[ Noatak felt his fingers ghost over a half-empty bottle but at the last minute thought better of it. ]

Namorita, Sabriel, Marius, and Temeraire.. [ He listed off their names as if they were practised prayer- a litany of names that made him feel something. Anything. ] Those are people; people who I don't know are alive in their worlds or not but regardless I've admitted to myself in one way or another I need them. [ He pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a sharp intake of breath. ] That makes it sound simple like some trite fancy that I'm not doing justice.

The fact is Tarrlok, now, I've found what separates me from that monster that haunted us in the tundra is that I need them; I need people. I don't know if I need help or looking for some way to right myself through otherwise in a selfish quest of penance but, unlike him, I need people. I want that connection you've always told yourself- thanks to me- was weakness. I want- I need that weakness. Now more than ever.

I can't...

[He clenches his fist. That was the absolute last thing he wanted to hear. His entire life has been spent trying desperately to kill off any trace that remained of the boy he used to be. At this point, he wasn't even sure that he was as terrible as he thought he was, all he knew was that he didn't want to return to a time when he felt so worthless and miserable.]

What's the point in being a good person if I'm too pathetic to do anything worthwhile? Is there no other way? And...how do you know that they won't hurt you?

That they won't hurt me Brother, I am wanted terrorist who makes up for a lack of blood spilt in long-held prejudices and being part of the brain trust behind a slew of technological advances crafted solely for war. What makes you think I do not have the capacity to take chances?

[ He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the hour, but he was growing tired. He leaned heavy on one arm and yawned loud and deep from the chest. ]

You have more to offer than you realise and gambits are all I have to play. The best I can tell you is people can surprise you. Take it from someone who watched people below the poverty line become an organised unit of professionals.

Sometimes you just need a push in the right direction.

...Do you think I have something to offer as I am now, or is it because you're holding out hope that the boy you once knew is still here?

[He looks away. He couldn't cry right now, even if he wanted to. He doesn't even remember the last time he cried. He'd spent so many years training himself not to.]

I do need people. I always have. The city was a poor substitute. I needed mother. I needed you. And I've always hated myself for that. Maybe I was wrong. I don't know. But I'm not that boy anymore.

Listen to me now because we both know this the last and only time I will put aside my own beliefs to say this: You are among the most powerful benders in living memory with a keen mind to boot. To say you have nothing to offer is to imply a support beam is only there for decoration.

You are my brother, and we are still our mother's sons. What good is left in such an association is in us both. But I will not live to validate you like I allowed my death to validate your decisions.

[ Noatak leaned forward with all the slur of drink suddenly gone from his voice. He looked his brother in the eye until their gaze was locked. ]

Use what time we have here, but wisely. I know you can.

...I will try. I don't like admitting it, but while I am strong on the outside, what father did to me gave me a spiritual wound I never managed to heal. On the inside, I am frail. I couldn't handle one more person hurting me like father did.

It would be...a huge step, a step that seems almost insurmountable at this point, for me to put my trust in anyone else, because I know how easily they could break me. That's a lot of power I'm giving someone else, when I spent so much time trying to make sure no one could ever have power over me again. But I'll try.

[And that's about the best he can say, is that he'll try. The truth was, the only reason he could cope with his loneliness was because he was much more afraid of being hurt by someone else than by being alone. The only reason he even agreed to try was because he didn't have much else to lose.]

...I suppose I should be going.

What that animal did to us, Tarrlok. [ Stubbornly, Noatak refused to refer to Yakone as 'father' or anything like it if it were avoidable. ] Frailty of the mind is circumvent by how we chose to fortify ourselves.

You can build walls, but stronger ones are built with more than one set of hands. [ A loss of inhibition and some wild hope he wouldn't be rebuked drove Noatak to take his brother's hand in his own. ]

Please. No one else would have gotten this chance.

I know. Other people can help you more than anything else...but they can hurt you more than anything else, too.

[He flinches, but he doesn't draw his hand away.]

Is it really worth the risk? [He's not asking to be cynical, or to persuade Noatak otherwise. More because he had decided he needed to figure everything out all on his own after Noatak left, and had never really bothered to consider alternatives to his own views unless he was planning on debating them.]

I know that there is no change without intervention.

[ He squeezes. ]

Without risk.

If that's the way it has to be, I suppose I have no choice.

[He wants to argue that he was perfectly happy when he had wealth and power even though he was alone, and it's not a total lie, but he does have to admit that he may have been happy alone because he forgot what it was like not to be.]

There are so many things I still disagree with you about, but in spite of all that - for this, thank you.

I'm- [ He lets his hands slip back into his lap as he almost appears to curl into himself as if every negative space was occupied by the oppressive guilt Tarrlok carried with him.

There was no one else but Tarrlok who knew how well-heeled and otherwise happy he had been before the revolution and Noatak was avoiding bringing up the tally of their collected loses. For his own part, as Amon he had been loved and surrounded by those who had been built up as a surrogate family that he ultimately abandoned. History had a way of repeating itself and now he wanted to dodge all the sentimentality before it stung too much. ]

Also very drunk.

Moderation, Noatak. I know you understand the concept.

[He stops. For a moment, it was almost as if he was part of a normal family, lecturing his brother on responsible drinking.

He's not really up for that sentimentality, either.]

You should get some sleep. I'm going home now.

I was never one to turn to drink before.

[ 'Before' encompassing everything that transpired between running away in an ice storm and leaning he had been deceased for months, but there was truth to it. Noatak knew his limits through practice, but it was limited and he had no prior history to be found in a bottle. ]

That is a good idea; I will...I will leave you to yourself for the time being,

Alright. Be careful with that. [Don't fall down or something.

He turns and heads towards the door.]

Goodbye.

This was probably never your romanticised image of that boy of all those years ago. [ Defiantly not someone who shut down at the revelation of defeat. Of course that wouldn't relate to Tarrlok's hero worship of his formative years. ]

The same to you. This world is unkind- though I wish you'd at least engage with it.

[ Noatak falters before he completely relaxes. ]

Take care, brother.

I'll engage with it, but I hope you can understand why I have to be careful.

[He doesn't answer the question about his romanticized image of Noatak. He needed a strong role model back then, even if it was only a version of someone he remembered. He was still a bit afraid to let go of the version of his brother he'd created for himself, but it was so far from the real thing that he had no choice.]

You, too. [And he exits.]

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